"Kind words butter no parsnips," they say. And in these austere times, when kind words are pretty much allwe have left, the parsnips are missing out more than usual. So I'm doing my bit to redress the balance by buttering as many as possible. I am also deploying olive oil, cream, dollops of goose fat andother culinary embrocations to elevate these humble winter roots to the winter-warming heights.
I'm also lavishing a lot of attention on their stable mates, swedes (anapt metaphor, since in many cultures both roots have been in danger of being relegated to animal fodder). Actually, the swede isn't aroot at all;it's the swollen base ofa stem, but I'm trying to give swedes a push, and "swollen base ofa stem" isn't the world's most appetising description. So, let's gloss over that, preferably with some form of tasty animal fat.
We Brits have loved these veg for centuries, and our passion for their welcome winter sweetness has remained steadfast, unlike some other fickle European nations, who jilted them once the satisfyingly starchy spud came on the scene. In France, for example, the parsnip is consistently overlooked in favour of the turnip. More fool them, I say.
Here in Britain, we have the Romans to thank for the parsnip (Irefer you to Life Of Brian for a list of their other significant contributions to our culture). They first planted the cultivated roots here, along with carrots, and they became a favourite. In those centuries before sugar made an appearance, we transformed parsnips into sweet drinks and jams, puddings and tarts. The swede, though, is a relatively new arrival. It was first imported into Britain in any quantity via Sweden (of course!) in the late 18th century, and it suited our climate. In Scotland, of course, the neep, or swede, plays a starring role on Burns Night alongside the spicy, peppery haggis. And that perfect pairing gives us a clue for good partners for swedes and parsnips alike. Their sweet and nutty flavours marry perfectly with something salty – bacon, say, or rich, festive meats such as duck or goose. As for seasonings, parsnips in particular welcome quite strong ones – curry powder and its component parts, either singly or in combination, work very well, notably cumin and ginger.
And before I go, let's talk mash, shall we? Equal quantities of those Johnny-come-lately potatoes, parsnips and swedes, mashed into creamy deliciousness with hot whole milk, plenty of butter and sweet and warming nutmeg, is about as good anaccompaniment to many winter meals as you could wish for.
Pot-roasted brisket with parsnips and turnips
A wonderful dish for a cold day, great for feeding a crowd or, perhaps even better, feeding just a few of you with plenty of leftovers for the next day. Serves eight to 10.
2 tsp chopped fresh thyme
2 tsp sweet paprika
2 tsp flaky sea salt
2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1 tsp dry English mustard
1 tsp dark muscovado sugar
2kg brisket
2 tbsp groundnut or sunflower oil
200g slab bacon, cut into 1cm cubes
500ml dry red wine or dark beer
200ml beef stock
2 large onions, peeled, halved and thinly sliced
12 small shallots, peeled
10 garlic cloves, peeled
3 bay leaves
4 large carrots, peeled and cut into 3cm pieces
4 medium parsnips, peeled and cut into 3cm pieces
1 small celeriac, peeled and cut into 3cm cubes
4-5 whole, small turnips, about the size of golf balls (optional)
Heat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4. Mix the first six ingredients in a small bowl, then rub the spice blend all over the beef.
In a large, heavy-bottomed casserole, warm the oil over medium-high heat and cook the bacon until just crisp. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the bacon to kitchen towel to drain. Pour off all but three tablespoons of fat from the pot. Add the seasoned beef and brown on all sides. Transfer the beef to a plate. Add the red wine or beer to the pot and bring to a boil, scraping up all the tasty browned bits from the bottom as it does so. Boil until reduced to around 150ml – about five minutes. Add the stock and return the bacon to the pan. Put half the onions, shallots, garlic and a bay leaf in thepan, place the beef on top and scatter the remaining onions, shallots, garlic and bay leaves around it.
Pop a lid on the pot and roast for an hour. Remove, turn over the beef and cook, covered, for another hour, adding water by the 100ml if it begins to look dry. Transfer the beef to aplate. Add the root veg to the pot, stir to coat and place the brisket on top. Cover the pot and roast until beef and veg are tender – about 45 minutes more. Transfer the beef to awarmed platter. Spoon off some of the fat from the surface of the sauce. Season the sauce to taste, pour over the beef and serve with the veg.
Parsnip and thyme bread
Dan Stevens, who teaches our bread-making course at River Cottage, came up with this easy, tasty loaf inspired by Delia Smith's oatmeal and potato bread. It's great if you want to whip up a quick loaf to go with soup. Makes one small loaf.
1 tbsp rapeseed or sunflower oil, plus extra for oiling the baking sheet
1 large onion, peeled, halved and sliced thin
180g self-raising flour
½ tsp salt
1 tsp fresh thyme leaves
50g hard mature goat's cheese, strong cheddar or parmesan, finely grated
180g grated parsnip
Freshly ground black pepper
1 egg, lightly beaten
2-3 tbsp whole milk
Heat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4. Heat the oil in a frying pan over a medium-low heat, add the onion and sweat until soft and lightly coloured, stirring from time to time – about 15 minutes. Remove from the heat and leave to cool.
In a large bowl, mix together the flour, salt, thyme, cheese, parsnip and some pepper. Add the onion, then the egg and two tablespoons of milk. Mix to form a soft dough, adding the extra milk only if needed.Be careful no to overwork the dough, though – just bring it together with a little light kneading. Shape into a round and place on an oiled baking sheet.
Bake for 40-45 minutes, until the loaf is golden and makes a hollow sound when tapped on the bottom. Leave to cool for a few minutes on a wire rack, then slice and serve, still warm, spread thickly with butter.
Swede, potato and celeriac gratin
This easy, tasty gratin is great with roast meats. Serves six.
1 clove garlic, halved
80g softened butter, plus extra forgreasing
700g even-sized medium potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced
¼ tsp ground nutmeg
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
300g celeriac, peeled, cut into quarters and thinly sliced
300g swede, peeled, cut into quarters and thinly sliced
1 small onion, peeled, halved and finely sliced
450ml hot chicken or vegetable stock
4 tbsp single cream
Heat the oven to 200C/400F/gas mark 6. Rub the cut sides of the garlic over a medium-sized gratin dish. Grease the dish with butter.
Arrange one-third of the potatoes in the dish, overlapping the slices alittle. Season and sprinkle with alittle nutmeg, salt and pepper. Arrange a third of the celeriac over the potatoes, again overlapping the slices a little, and season. Arrange athird of the swede over the celeriac, overlapping the slices, too,and season. Sprinkle with a third of the onion, then dot with athird of the butter and pour over some of the stock.
Repeat the layers with the remaining potatoes, celeriac, swedeand onion, seasoning well after each layer. Dot with half the remaining butter and pour on the rest of the stock. Bake for an hour orso, or until the vegetables are cooked through and tender.
Raise the heat to 220C/425F/gas mark 7. Drizzle the gratin with the cream, dot with the remaining butter and season. Return to the oven for a further 12-15 minutes, oruntil bubbling and golden.
Celebrate Christmas the River Cottage way with a festive hamper – go to rivercottage.net for details.
