A Brief Ode to Parsnips
Hi good morning!
First off! I wanted to remind that you can now send in questions to whatshelpingtoday@gmail.com for potential anonymous use by yours truly in a future advice-type column, here on this very newsletter. Figure I mean “advice” in the loosest sense. Feel free to ask about whatever, mental health-related or not. As ever, grateful to those who write me! I’m excited for this new endeavor.
Been a busy time lately in my life; out in the garden too, things are starting back up. I’ve been wanting to send some thoughts about parsnips, one of the weirdest vegetables I grow — and one of my most beloved.
If you’re unfamiliar, parsnips look like big white carrots sorta. They are spicier than carrots but less so than radishes or turnips. Baked or otherwise caramelized, they have a lovely sweet flavor. As root crops go, in my opinion, parsnips are only bested perhaps by fall fav rutabaga.
What makes parsnips unique is their timing. Rather than be harvested in the fall with most everything else, parsnips can remain underground all winter. I pull mine in spring, which, here in the Western Catskills, started about one second ago.
I appreciate that no other occupant of my garden is working on this odd schedule, really (save except garlic and shallots, which I planted last fall and will be ready in summer).
It really astonishes me, that I could harvest so much food during such an otherwise sparse and muddy season.
The other reason I adore parsnips is they are delicious. (Apologies to those of you already in the know, to whom I am parsnipsplaining.) I love cooking with them and I love eating them.
I therefore grow a lot of them. I also know that having a giant rotting pile of parsnips in my fridge is a bad look. So this year, I worked hard on processing and freezing as much parsnip as I could, for future soups and mashes and latkes.
I roasted parsnips. Rob made us parsnip fries. I made parsnip soup, topped with the first chives that emerge around our old stone front steps. With whole wheat popovers because why not.
Happy spring everybody.
Shoutout to the parsnips among us, if you will… those working at our own perhaps unusual paces or doing things entirely our own ways.
Take care,
Sandy
p.s. Lotsa wisdom from Dr. Orna Guralnik (of Couples Therapy) on Michael Cruz Kayne’s A Good Cry (a podcast on which [mostly] comedians discuss grief).
p.p.s. Also brief praise for rhubarb! I’ve been dividing mine and giving extras to neighborfriends. (Here is a video about rhubarb splitting I have become low-key obsessed with. It’s like if Joe Pera were not a joke.)
p.p.p.s. As you have perhaps noticed, this newsletter has a rad new logo, courtesy of the amazing artist Katie Benn! We did theater stuff in high school together long ago. So honored to have her work adorning this project. Featuring Mr. Bunbury!
