If you cooked and ate solely based on the
first impressions of others, you might never let a parsnip pass your
lips. An online search yields the kind of reviews guaranteed to make
aspiring parsnip eaters run in the opposite direction. Here’s a just a
small sample of the bad press:
“About as exciting
as it is colorful.”
“Looks like an
anemic carrot.”
“Evoke[s] memories of school cafeterias and
Dickensian images of orphanages.”
Even among the cheerleading minority, the parsnip tends to be praised conditionally and with restraint.
Says Brit food writer Nigel Slater in his book
Tender:
“I haven’t always loved the parsnip,” further explaining it took until
later in life for him to warm up to the homely root vegetable.
The late great food doyenne Jane Grigson, an unapologetic parsnip fan, writes in her
Vegetables
book: “Never serve them straight from the water, any more than you
would appear at the dinner table dripping from the bath. Only asparagus
and Aphrodite can get away with it.”
Despite her disappointment that the parsnip is a “valuable vegetable
that is perennially ignored,” produce scholar Elizabeth Schneider
acknowledges its “fairly frumpy and pallid” appearance in her tome,
Vegetables from Amaranth to Zucchini.
And yet, in these final weeks leading up to the vernal equinox,
seasonal produce pickings are, frankly, slim, which means the parsnip
(and its underground brethren) are what’s on the menu. Best we stop
listening to the parsnip punditry, live in the produce moment and find
out what the ‘snip is all about.
A Brief History
The story is that the wild parsnip probably hails from the southern
part of Europe, around the Mediterranean, and most likely cultivated
since Roman times.
Roman scholar Pliny the Elder refers to pastinaca in his Naturalis
Historia in first century AD, but many historians claim that he was
referring to both the parsnip and its more pigmented cousin, the carrot.
Around the same time, Roman gastronome Apicius included recipes for
parsnips in his cookbook
De Re Coquinaria.
From there the root migrated north and found its way into the medieval gardens of France, Britain and Germany. In his book
Cabbages and Kings,
culinary scholar Jonathan Roberts notes that Charlemagne insisted that
parsnips be grown on his 9th century estate. U ntil the potato arrived
from the New World, the parsnip was the apparent root of choice in
medieval Europe, providing both humans and their livestock starchy
sustenance (parsnips still have a reputation as animal feed) and it was a
sweet alternative to honey, which was scarce. Easily fermented, the
parsnip was made into both beer and wine, a practice that continued on
the other side of the Atlantic well into the
19th century.
Factual Nibbles
Before the parsnip made its way to colonial America, it stopped off
in the West Indies, which was too hot for the cold-loving root. First
colonial stop was Virginia, then it migrated further north to
Massachusetts and was revered by native American tribes.
In his cookbook
50 Chowders, Boston-area
chef Jasper White writes that “Westfield, Massachusetts is to parsnips
what Castroville California is to artichokes (i.e. America’s capital).”
Unfortunately, we can’t find any supporting evidence to this claim, but
western Massachusetts is potato country, so we’ll take the chef’s word
for it.
Cultivation
Botanically known as
Pastinaca sativa,
the parsnip is part of the larger Umbelliferae family, which includes
carrots, chervil, parsley, fennel, celeriac and celery. If you think
about it, all of these plants have a similar, herbaceous yet slightly
sweet aroma.
Etymologically, the word
pastinaca comes from the Latin word
pastinare, which means ‘that which is dug up’ (the French word is
pasnaie; in Russian, it’s
pasternak) and the “nip” suffix is derived from naep, an Old English word for turnip which comes from the Latin
napus.
Environmental Impact/Seasonality
Because it’s not grown on a massive scale, the parsnip is excluded from the
Environmental Working Group Shopper’s Guide to Pesticides in Produce.
Depending on where you live, you may find it in your supermarket
produce aisle, but more likely at the farmers’ market. The parsnip is a
great example of seasonal, local produce that is truly at its peak
during the coldest months of the year. Buying parsnips (or anything
else) from local farmers presents a great opportunity to ask growers
about production methods as well as recipes and favorite ways to
prepare. For two-thirds of the country, you’ll see parsnips until the
early weeks of spring. (See our veggie rule of thumb*.)
Characteristics
The stories are true – the parsnip does look an albino carrot,
usually a shade of pale yellow, ivory or off-white. Contrary to popular
belief, the parsnip is not a genetic mutation of the carrot, but the two
are botanically related. The parsnip tends to have a thinner tip and
typically is sold without its green tops, which can irritate the skin.
In the course of my research, both the words “spindle” and “dibble” made
frequent appearances to describe its physical characteristics.
As sweet as the carrot is, the parsnip is even sweeter. In fact, a
frost will intensify its sugar content and residual sweetness. Vegetable
gardeners claim that the parsnip is one of the few root vegetables that
happily stays underground to “winter over,” a nifty tip for those
gardeners with limited indoor storage space.
Nutrition
The parsnip can do your body good. One cup of raw parsnips contains six grams of fiber, at
100 calories.
It’s rich in potassium and a respectable source of calcium, iron,
Vitamin C and folate. It is being studied for its cancer-fighting
properties, which come from a phytochemical called falcarinol.
What to Look for
The perfect ‘snip sounds like a bit like something out of
Goldlilocks: Firm but not woody, and definitely not too soft. One should
not be able to bend a ‘snip.
What to Do with It
Nigel Slater insists that “to get the best out of this vegetable, you
need to caramelize the sugars present in the flesh and introduce an
element of richness with butter, cream or spices. There is little
excitement in a plainly boiled root.”
Storage
Remember, this is a hardy vegetable suitable for storage, so long as
you keep it dry. Wrap in a towel or perforated bag, and your ‘snips
should keep for a few weeks. Wash and peel just before cooking.
Cooking Tips
Roasting coaxes the nuttiness out of parsnips, but I agree with other
cooks that a quick parboil is a good idea, to help soften the starch.
Before coating in fat for roasting (or sautéing), be sure to towel dry
the parboiled parsnips or you’ll end up with steamed parsnips instead.
The next time you’re making mashed potatoes, add one or two quartered
parsnips to the mix, along with a whole clove of garlic. You’ll end up
with a mash that’s a little bit earthier, with a hint of sweetness and a
whole bunch more nutrients.
The ‘snip likes warm spices – ginger, nutmeg, cinnamon, curry,
cardamom (as you’ll see in the recipe below), and likes sugar in all
forms, from maple syrup to the granulated stuff.
I love the idea of poaching parsnips in coconut milk from
The Organic Cook’s Bible
by Jeff Cox: “Poach quartered roots in barely simmering coconut milk
until almost tender, then finish by sautéing them in a little butter
with a pinch of salt, and at the end add a splash of coconut milk from
the poaching liquid and reduce it until it glazes the roots.”
On my to-do list is a recipe from
Diane Morgan’s new cookbook,
Roots,
in which she suggests adding sautéed diced parsnips to spaghetti
carbonara for a twist on an old classic. Instead of peas, I might add a
bunch of chopped fresh parsley to the mix.
Morgan also has a recipe for a triple layer parsnip cake, an idea
that might seem peculiar on first blush. But as mentioned earlier,
parsnips are even sweeter than carrots, which make it into baked goods
all the time. Why not parsnips in the bakery case?
Inspired by this notion, I came up with my own version, a
single-layer coffee cake made in a Bundt-style pan. Spiced up with
cardamom, cinnamon and candied ginger, and further sweetened with
apples, this homey cake is a revelation that just might change your tune
about ‘snips, vegetables in dessert and who knows what else.
Recipe
Parsnip-Apple-Cardamom Coffee Cake
Ingredients
2 to 3 medium-size parsnips, cleaned, peeled and root removed
2 medium-size crisp apples of choice, peeled, cored and quartered
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
2 teaspoons ground cardamom
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
¼ ; teaspoon salt
¼ ; cup candied ginger, chopped finely
¾ ; cup neutral oil (grapeseed, safflower, rice bran)
1 cup granulated sugar
3 large eggs
½ ; cup milk (or unsweetened non-dairy alternative; I used fortified coconut milk with success)
Thoroughly grease a 9 or 10-inch Bundt-style cake pan. (This is also known as a tube pan.) Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.
Using a box grater or a food processor with a shredding blade, shred
or finely grate the parsnips and apples. You’re looking for 2 cups of
grated parsnips and 1 cup of grated apples. Combine and set aside.
In a medium-size bowl, place the flour, baking powder, cardamom, cinnamon, salt and candied ginger.
In a large bowl, place the oil and the sugar and “cream” with a
handheld electric beater until well integrated and somewhat creamy,
about 3 minutes. Add eggs, one at a time, until mixture is light yellow
and color and somewhat fluffy, about 2 minutes.
Fold one-third of dry ingredients into the egg-sugar-oil mixture,
alternating with half of the milk, beating with each addition. Using a
wooden spoon or rubber spatula, stir in the parsnips and apples, until
well integrated.
Transfer the batter into the prepared cake pan, and place the pan on a
baking tray. Bake the cake for about 50 minutes, or until a skewer
inserted in the cake comes out clean.
Transfer the cake to a baking rack and allow to cool for about 20
minutes before inverting onto a plate. Allow to completely cool before
serving.
Makes 12-14 servings.
(*Fruit and vegetable rule of thumb: We think that first and
foremost, in terms of nutrition, people should eat lots of fruits and
vegetables whether they are organic or not. The EWG’s guide is a handy
list, but we will point out here that the impacts of pesticides are not
limited to your ingestion of them – agricultural chemicals also affect
farmworkers and local waterways, both good reasons to buy organic, even
those vegetables that carry a light pesticide load. Also, it has been
demonstrated that produce grown by small-scale farmers, even those who
are not certified organic, tends to have a lighter pesticide load than
its industrially-produced counterpart, owing to industry’s tendency
toward large monocrops.)
