Unearthing Joy

For clarification: a real root vegetable is one that fattens its single root underground, drawing in the nutrients from well-tilled soil. Potatoes and Jerusalem artichokes are tubers technically, not roots. More recently, plant breeders have enthusiastically either revived old varieties or created new ones. We can eat a fuchsia and white-striped chioggia beetroot without it ‘bossing’ the other food on the dish. There are white, purple, and yellow carrots sold under the now overused moniker ‘heritage’, and the radish palette is endless. Yet, it is a development to love. Root vegetables are interesting again, loved even. Vegetables that lurk below ground lost out to above-the-soil greens for too long. We were rocket obsessed, mangetout mad, cavalo nero crazed — even samphire entered ‘two veg’ status.

Root vegetables do suffer a reputation problem, though. It is a matter of right and wrong hands. In the right hands, they can equal the glorious status of an Evesham asparagus tip. In the wrong hands, their reputation may never be saved. A friend has not touched swedes since school, having witnessed a dollop of orange pulp dumped on his plate, like St Michael’s Mount in a low tide of murky water. But a hearty mashed swede, beaten with butter and plenty of pepper is an elegant ‘side’, much loved by the Scots, who know it as ‘bashed neeps’, essential to a proper haggis dinner. The right hands have produced some great root recipes, beginning with the now classic roasted mix of root vegetables, all plonked in a shallow enamel dish with garlic, thyme, and olive oil. Delia Smith deserves the credit for improving Sunday lunch in this case. Jeremy Lee’s baked salsify with Parmesan is very doable at home — although salsify is rather hard to find. The peeled salsify, poached then wrapped in brik pastry (substitute filo); buttered and baked then dusted with grated Parmesan, is his own classic.

Nigel Slater is a rich source of rooting for roots: I love his baked root veg with feta, and his korma — roots suit the creamy spice very well. And Fergus Henderson’s duck legs with carrots is a wonderful mess of slow-cooked subliminal simplicity.Richard Corrigan makes a carrot and cardamom butter — an easy braise of those three ingredients that are then passed through a sieve — to eat with grilled turbot. For a fish you cannot insult with invasive flavour, this is subtlety itself. I have my own root-vegetable honour roll — dishes and recipes I return to again and again in my kitchen. Celeriac remoulade, that salad of blanched celeriac strips, dressed with a mixture of mayonnaise, Dijon mustard, and tarragon then loosened with vinaigrette — eaten with hot gammon, I think it unbeatable. Then there are beetroots baked with balsamic vinegar, served with fresh sheep’s-milk curd, red chilli, and toasted hazelnuts. Try fried parsnips — these are a discovery: cut the parsnips into even dice (the size of actual dice), fry in olive oil with thyme, turning now and again, and within fifteen minutes you will have soft crispy squares, so good with meats. Modernistas will like my recipe for turnips roasted with white miso, maple syrup and butter. And there are baked radishes: again simplicity, and the way they turn a deep pink is so appetising. And may we bow to a really decent carrot cake? One that is barely baked, with ground almonds and overly chunky walnuts — it may be a little cranky, but I secretly love it, as do my children. Sadly, I do not have a vegetable garden for my offspring to pull up wonky carrots, as I did, but they have inherited a love for the treasures of the velvet underground.