They were small, round and white, like radishes, only cuter. I’d never seen them before.
They’re delicious, said a friend who generously shared her holiday market purchase with me.
They were not. The tiny turnips, sauteed in olive oil and seasoned with salt and cracked pepper, weren’t odious, but they weren’t delectable, either.
In the brave new world of root vegetables, I’m a simpleton, only recently discovering the earthy sweet wonderfulness of beets. But really, give me a potato any day.
Calling a potato a root vegetable, however, can get you into trouble. Technically it’s a tuber, which is different.
But even experts find it confusing.
“I think potatoes count,” said Mike Nolan, one of this area’s foremost growers of root vegetables at his Mancos farm, Mountain Roots. “Leeks and onions are kind of something else. I don’t really consider them traditional roots.”
For the record, the real deal roots are: beets, carrots, celeriac, parsnips, radishes, rutabaga, sweet potatoes and turnips. There are others, but if I can’t recognize turnips, I doubt I could identify salsify.
Then there are root vegetable pretenders, in which some part of the plant grows underground but isn’t officially a root. Potatoes, that all-American favorite, head the list, as well as onions, garlic, shallots, leeks and the Italian staple, fennel.
Cookbook writers, local chefs and farmers claim all root vegetables are tasty, even if they’re uglier than a mud stump, covered with hairy strings and odd protuberances. If you’ve ever seen celeriac, the Rip Van Wrinkle of the vegetable world, you’ll know what I mean.
OK, so here’s the upside of these most lowdown of vegetables. Because they grow underground, they absorb nutrients from the soil and are chock full of antioxidants, iron and vitamins A, B and C. They’re low-calorie and offer fiber and slow-burning carbohydrates, which help regulate blood sugar and boost your immune system.
But for some, a simpler equation applies – tradition. It wouldn’t be the holidays without them.
“No Christmas dinner should be without root vegetables,” said Cortez farmer Nancy Nard of Nancy’s Garden.
She prefers parsnips. To prepare, she simply peels the long white root, boils it until tender and mashes it with butter, just as you would winter squash.
“I like them better than turnips; they’re sweeter.”
She also throws them into stews and roasts them with their kind, adding in turnips, beets and carrots for a colorful side dish. And should you be looking for a winter version of cucumber, Nard contends that beets make a beautiful pickle.
Nard, Nolan and other local farmers say it was a good year for root vegetables in the Four Corners, just as it was for more familiar summer vegetables. They plant them in late May and early June, begin harvesting around August and finish after the hard frost, this year in early October. The difference between roots and other vegetables is that their high sugar content and hard surface make them ideal for storing, which is why they’re available through much of the winter.
Carrots and beets are the big sellers, of course, for their sweetness and ability to be used raw. Most root vegetables need to be cooked to bring out their flavor and can be substituted in almost any dish you’d use a potato. You can put them in stews, add them to soups, combine them for a simple multi-vegetable bake, layer them into gratins and cook them on the grill.
But let’s not go too far. No matter how nutritious turnips and parsnips, rutabagas and celeriac are, they cannot compete with the flavor bonanza that is a potato. Call me a culinary infidel, but do this test – set a bowl of mashed potatoes and a bowl of mashed rutabagas on the table and see which is devoured and which is ignored.
“Are you kidding?” said local cook and root vegetable lover Myram Palmer, maker of the teeny sauteed turnips, of sweet oven-roasted carrots and parsnips, of refreshing radish, fennel and carrot salad. “I’m half-Belgian. You don’t ever have enough potatoes.”
She bakes them and eats them plain, without even the tiniest bit of butter or scant dollop of sour cream, just for their virgin deliciousness. Nor is she alone in her high regard for the tuber.
“I get so excited about potatoes, I make an idiot out of myself,” said Judy Rohwer, matriarch of the farming clan known for the finest spuds in these parts. “You can’t just grab a potato and take it home. You have to know what you want it for.”
Her favorite of the moment is the Kerr’s pink, an Irish heirloom that bakes up fluffy but is really meant for mashing, if you don’t mind pink potatoes adorning your holiday table. Then there’s the Nicola, a yellow-fleshed find with a nut-like flavor that just calls for beef. Health-conscious locals favor the purple majesty for its low-glycemic value – they have less starch, thus fewer carbohydrates, and perform perfectly in the fryer.
So, of the nine types of potatoes she grows, which will she serve with Christmas dinner?
The Kennebec, she said, the whitest, creamiest, smoothest textured tuber in her field bursting with luscious potato flavor. It’s great for any preparation, but mashed it will be for the holiday.
Potatoes are also the star of Hanukkah, where they appear as latkes, a golden brown cake fried in hot oil and topped with applesauce (German style), sour cream (Russian style) or sugar (Spanish style). They’re irresistible in every from, so make more than you think anyone could possibly consume. You won’t have leftovers.
If you’re feeling guilty (as I am) about adoring the plebian potato over more authentic root vegetables during this, their moment of glory, you might try slipping some parsnips into the potato mash, or tossing turnips in with roasted carrots and sweet potatoes.
I will, if only so I can feast on Kennebecs without remorse.
