It's a curious thing, how national tastes evolve. An ingredient may be vilified in one land but celebrated by its neighbour for no very obvious reason, and the passing of the years tends to set such trends in stone. Take parsnips, for instance – one of winter's finest veg, in my book. These roots are versatile, a doddle to prepare and cook, and pretty easy on the wallet, too. In this country, we have long valued their sweet flavour; we've been dishing them up as soups, salads and side veg for centuries. Skip over the Channel to France, however, and the question, "Vous aimez les panais?" may well be met by quizzical looks. Most French folk couldn't even tell you what a parsnip is. Why such a gastronomically accomplished nation should have perpetually passed over this delicious root is a mystery to me. Especially since, whenever I serve French friends a parsnip recipe or two, they invariably love them. (The Gallic tradition, on the other hand, fully embraces the turnip, a vegetable we've never quite got to grips with. Chacun à songoût, of course, but for me there is no competition.)
So, if you're reading this and you are either a) French or b) labouring under the misapprehension that parsnips are somehow not worth bothering with, allow me to introduce you to this regal root's charms.
A parsnip, I will grant you, has limited appeal in its unadorned state. We don't pass round raw parsnip sticks as nibbles in the way we do carrots, or bake them and serve them whole, like potatoes. But this is not because they lack flavour. Quite the contrary. If not handled correctly, the parsnip's intense sweetness and pungency can make it quite an overpowering mouthful – Ilike to add a little bit of parsnip to my stocks, for instance, but never too much, or it will dominate. But if you do the right thing to a parsnip, itabsolutely sings with flavour.
Roasting will always be one of myfavourite ways of doing right by these roots. The heat of the oven intensifies the sugars in a parsnip, giving it a wonderful, caramelised note. The shape of the root can be apositive boon here, too. Thick at one end and tapering away to almost nothing at the other, roast parsnips give you the chance to enjoy three different textures in one go. To achieve multi-layered, roast parsnip perfection, cut the peeled and trimmed 'snips into long, root-to-tip wedges, toss with oil, salt and pepper, and roast at about 190C/375F/gas mark 5 for 40-50 minutes, turning once. They're done when the thin, pointed ends are crisp, browned and caramelised almost to the point of burnt-ness, the centres are golden and delightfully chewy and the thicker end is still fluffy and soft. It doesn't get much better than that.
Countless recipes add honey before roasting – I've done it myself – but these days I tend to hold back on the sticky stuff. It burns so easily and can be unappetisingly black by the time your parsnips reach their state of perfection. And, frankly, parsnips are sweet enough without any help from the bees. By all means add herbs, though, or, even better, spices. If you've never tried parsnips roasted with a teaspoon or two or crushed coriander or cumin seeds (or both), or puréed them into a soup with garlic and a dash of curry powder, then you're missing a trick.
Roast parsnips aren't good just for the Sunday roast. Once you have them done to a turn, you have opened the door to all sorts of hearty warm salads (try with watercress, puy lentils and a mustardy dressing) and gorgeous soups (try puréeing with roast garlic and blue cheese). They're also very good in a gratin, ring the changes nicely for grated carrots in acake and can even be eaten, cut into fine matchsticks, in raw slaws.
It's no myth that parsnips taste better as the weather gets colder. Low soil temperatures encourage the starches in the root to turn to sugar, and their integral sweetness therefore to intensify. So whether you're a die-hard parsnip fan or anew convert, this cold snap, and hereafter, is just the time to be eating them. Bon appétit.
Curry-spiced parsnips and potatoes (V)
Gorgeous with simply cooked fish, but stands as a dish on its own with a salad and a spoonful of thick yoghurt. Serves two to three.
About 500g potatoes
About 500g parsnips
3 tbsp sunflower oil
1 garlic clove, peeled and very finelychopped
For the curry spice mix
1 tbsp coriander seeds
Half a dozen black peppercorns
½ tsp dried chilli flakes
1 tsp ground fenugreek
1 tsp ground turmeric
¼ tsp fine sea salt
First make the spice mix. Heat the oven to 200C/390F/gas mark 6. Put the coriander seeds and black peppercorns in a dry frying pan and toast over a gentle heat for a few minutes, until fragrant. Tip into a pestle and mortar and leave to cool. Add the chilli flakes, then crush the lot to a coarse powder and mix with the fenugreek, turmeric and salt.
Peel the spuds and cut into 3-4cm chunks. Put them in a saucepan, cover with cold water and bring to a rolling boil. Boil for one minute only, then take off the heat and drain well.
Peel the parsnips, cut into similar sized chunks to the potatoes (remove the core if it seems tough orwoody) and add to the potatoes.
Pour the oil into a large, shallow roasting dish and heat in the oven for five minutes. Tip the potatoes and parsnips into the hot oil, add the spice mix and toss so the veg geta good coating of spice. Roast for 40 minutes, giving them a stir halfway through, or until golden and crisp. Stir in the garlic and return to the oven for two to three minutes. Serve straight away, with thick, plain yoghurt and perhaps mango chutney.
Parsnip and potato rösti (V)
These are delicious with a fried egg on top. The onion isn't essential, but it makes them extra good. Makes eight small or four largerösti.
About 250g floury potatoes such asmaris piper
About 250g parsnips
1 tsp roughly chopped thyme leaves
1 small onion, peeled and finely sliced (optional)
Sea salt and freshly ground blackpepper
Rapeseed or olive oil, for frying
Peel the potatoes. Leave small ones whole, cut medium ones in half and large ones in quarters – they should be an even, large-roast potato size. Put in a pan, cover with water, add some salt and bring to a boil.
Peel the parsnips and cut into large chunks, removing any tough, woody core. When the potatoes are boiling, add the parsnips and simmer for five minutes (they should be underdone), then drain and leave to cool.
If you're using the onion, fry it for about 10 minutes in a little oil, until soft and golden. Set aside until cool.
Coarsely grate the drained potato and parsnips into a bowl, add the thyme, onion, if using, and season generously, then toss thoroughly.
Pour enough oil into a nonstick pan to cover the base by about 1mm and put over a medium heat. Form handfuls of the mixture into shallow cakes no more than 1cm thick – at this stage, they'll seem prone to falling apart, but don't worry, the cooking will sort that out – and fry without moving them for five minutes, so they form a golden-brown crust underneath. Carefully flip over and cook until golden brown and crisp on both sides, turning once or twice more, if need be – about 12 minutes in all. Slip out of the pan on to kitchen paper, then on to warmed plates. Sprinkle over a little flaky salt, and serve hot.
Parsnip puree (V)
A smooth, buttery, peppery purée is avery simple but very lovely way of serving parsnips with almost any meat or fish. I sometimes add peeled, cored wedges of dessert apple to the mix. Serves three to four.
About 500g parsnips
Sea salt and freshly ground blackpepper
30g butter
3 tbsp double cream
1 tsp chopped thyme (optional)
Peel the parsnips, quarter them lengthways and remove any tough, woody core. Cut the parsnips into large chunks and put them in a pan with enough cold water just to cover them, plus some salt. Bring to a boil, lower the heat and simmer for 10-20 minutes, until completely tender. Drain, reserving the cooking water.
Transfer the parsnips to a blender (or use a stick blender) with the butter, cream, thyme (if using) and agenerous few twists of pepper. Process to a thick puree – add a splash of cooking water to loosen it, if you like, but it's best when thick enough to hold its shape. Check the seasoning and serve straight away.
