Roots

04 February 2013.

Roasted Roots and Fried Polenta.

If I praised the crispy, almost (dare I say it?) spring-like flavor of Sunday evening's head of romanesco, then I might call Monday's meal the opposite extreme. Last night I paid homage to the sweet, earthy flavors that can only come from something out of the dark depths of the fields -- it's winter's greatest gift that on cold, rainy nights we can bring the warmth of the soil into our homes and, indeed, onto our plates, via -- you guessed it -- root vegetables.

Root vegetables (of which there are many varieties -- the so-called "true roots," modified plant stems, bulbs...) have a tendency to taste like where they come from, and thus, for some, can come on a little strong. For those who aren't quite ready to "eat dirt," there are many ways to bring out their natural sugars -- the best of which, I maintain, is roasting.

I began by preheating my oven to 350 degrees. At this point, I was already excited about leaving the oven door open after I was finished with the roasting process to warm my kitchen. But that would require another thirty minutes of patience.
I removed my tupperware of leftover polenta (two wedges) from Sunday night and set it on the counter, just to let it warm up a little bit.

And then I took a look in my root bowl-- I keep root vegetables in my dark pantry closet in a metal bowl on the floor. Roots/tubers/bulbs like to be in cool, dark places. Under those conditions, you'll be surprised how long you can keep a sack of potatoes. A note to those unfamiliar with roots: "growth" is not a sign of spoilage -- potatoes, etc. will grow little root-like offshoots over time, which can easily be removed during the scrubbing process (don't cut them away -- just "push" them off with your fingers). Signs that you've waited too long to cook your roots include dark spots and a general "soft" or "mushy" feeling.
I selected three small beets, two cloves of garlic, and a large parsnip. Parsnips are shaped like carrots and are ivory-beige in color; not to be confused with parsley roots, which look similar (but are generally thinner). A parsnip can be boiled and mashed as an alternative to mashed potatoes -- I like to add a parsnip to a pot of potato soup. When roasted, they become extremely soft and super-sweet.

In my refrigerator, I had the end of an eggplant (about 1 cup), which I cut into large cubes (a little bigger than bite-sized) -- not a root vegetable, but it was leftover and needed to be used. If you don't happen to have the end of an eggplant, you can leave that out, but I did enjoy their chewy mouth-feel and smoky flavor. I peeled and sliced the parsnip into rounds about 1/4" thick, likewise two small carrots (peeled and chopped, as you'd chop carrot sticks for dipping). I thinly sliced the cloves of garlic, but if you feel so inclined, you can also use whole cloves.
While an onion would have done the trick, I wanted to really liven up the winter flavors by adding something with a little bit of pizzaz -- I chose a bulb of fennel. The entire bulb is edible (including the dill-like leaves) and, when cooked, boasts the texture of an onion with a slight licorice flavor. I gave it a rough chop -- a fennel bulb, unlike an onion, won't come apart into thin slices, but rather, will tend to remain in chunks, which makes it perfect for a roasting recipe.

I know, you think I've forgotten about those beets -- but I haven't.

I got out some aluminum foil and tore off a large sheet, big enough to hold ALL of the vegetables and fold over into a pocket. I'm betting that unless you have some industrial-sized restaurant epic foil, it'll probably take a couple of sheets. Wash the beets, but don't bother peeling them -- just throw them in there, whole. Trust me. Lightly salt and pepper everything, and add a squeeze of lemon juice (about a tablespoon), and toss. Fold everything up into a tightly-closed pocket, place the foil pocket on a baking sheet, and put it in the oven for 30 minutes. Roasting for thirty minutes will give you super-soft parsnips and medium-soft slices of carrot, but beets that, albeit sugary-sweet, will maintain much of their sturdiness. I thought that was a nice contrast to the parsnips (and offered up all three levels on the soft-to-hard scale), but if you'd like yours to be softer, roast them on their own in aluminum foil pocket for up to twenty minutes before adding them to be roasted with the rest of the vegetables.

I didn't add any special herbs, as I was really excited about enjoying the pure, simple flavors of the soil. But should you feel so inclined, I would recommend using a few tablespoons of chopped fresh parsley, or a teaspoon of fresh dill or thyme. This would also be an appropriate occasion for dried carrot greens if you have them at your disposal -- add the leaves, but not the tough stems, as you would any other herb.

After 30 minutes, you can turn off the oven and remove the foil pocket -- let it cool down for a moment, then carefully remove the beets. With a paring knife, you should now be able to remove the skins as you would the skin of a tomato (it should peel away easily). Slice the peeled beets into 1/4" rounds and return them to the warmth of the foil pocket.
You'll notice that by leaving the beets unpeeled during the roasting process, they've withheld most of their juices, which has two advantages: first, juicy, succulent beets; second, the other vegetables in the packet aren't pink. If you choose not to trust me on the unpeeled roasting thing, go ahead and peel them, but your beets will dry out a little, and their juices will be coating the rest of your vegetables. You'll have a pink mess, which, I guess if you're hosting a Barbie-themed party could have its aesthetic advantages.

I then melted a teaspoon of margarine in a skillet and sliced my polenta wedges into, you guessed it, 1/4" slices. I fried them in the margarine for a minute on each side so that the slices were crispy on the outside and soft on the inside.

We enjoyed our fried polenta slices with a heaping serving of the roasted vegetables. The best part? Well, that was the meal itself. But the second-best part was definitely the super-easy clean-up.