I jumped on the Jerusalem artichokes the moment I spotted them at the greengrocers, without a thought about what I was going to do with them. (Or indeed mindful of the fact I had celeriac and swedes at home, too.) Like damsons, gooseberries and bunches of new white turnips, these are ingredients I buy at first sight, then think about how they will be cooked later.
An artichoke roasts sweetly. I halve them lengthways, toss them in butter, chopped rosemary, lemon and bay, but they are even better cooked around the Sunday roast, where they get the opportunity to soak up the meat juices. A favourite winter way is to use up the goose fat on them, roasting with a paste of juniper berries, salt, rosemary and thyme crushed in a mortar. Tossed in a roasting tin with the fat, some finely sliced shallots and cooked for 40 minutes or so they are wonderful with sausages on a cold winter’s night.
Of all the season’s vegetable mash – potato, carrot, swede and parsnip – that of Jerusalem artichoke is the most silky and light. A mash that is really more of a purée, with a curious flavour poised between globe artichoke and potato. (The tubers are called artichoke for their faint similarity of flavour, not because they are botanically connected.) Steaming will keep them from collapsing into the cooking water, and using only butter, not warm milk or cream, will keep your mash from turning into soup.
You can fry them, too. They crisp as well as any potato, but possess an earthy sweetness that works elegantly with shellfish or, as I found by accident, the dense savour of black pudding. Mushrooms are good in this context, too. Quarter them, then add once the artichokes have started to crisp. A spritz of lemon into the roasting tin as it comes from the oven is a thoroughly good thing.
Jerusalem artichokes, leeks, black pudding
A simple pan-fry that explores the sweet, surprising marriage of artichokes and black pudding. Slicing the pudding thickly ensures the middle stays soft. Crumbling it gives plenty of rough, crisp edges. If blood pudding is not your thing, you could use pancetta, cut from the piece in finger-thick batons. They will take a little longer to cook than the pudding, so add them early on. I have also tried this with chorizo, which is worth doing, but I rather lost the subtle flavour of the artichokes.
Serves 2, generously
Jerusalem artichokes 500g
olive oil 3 tbsp
butter 30g
thyme 6 sprigs
leeks 1 large
black pudding 300g
flat-leaf parsley a small handful
Scrub the artichokes well with a vegetable brush, making sure to get the soil from every ridge and crevice. Cut them into rounds no more than a centimetre thick.
Warm the olive oil and butter in a shallow pan over a moderate heat, tip in the artichokes and let them cook for 8-10 minutes. Pull the thyme leaves from their stems and add to the artichokes. As each artichoke slice becomes pale gold on the underside, turn it over with kitchen tongs or a palette knife and let the other side colour appetisingly.
Wash and slice the leek into rounds, about the thickness of a pound coin.
Lift the artichokes out on to a plate. Tip the leeks into the pan and let them cook, with the occasional stir, so they become translucent, but do not brown. When the leeks are cooked, return the artichokes to the pan.
Cut the black pudding into 2cm-thick slices then add to the artichokes and leeks, crumbling into large pieces as you go. Pull the parsley leaves from their stems then add them to the pan. Serve when all is sizzling hot.
Creamed artichoke, chard and crisp garlic
The garlic, deep gold and crisp, is an essential part of this dish. I like to keep the heat fairly high, but move the slices of garlic around the pan almost constantly, to ensure even browning. If they blacken even lightly, start again.
Serves 2-3
Jerusalem artichokes 800g
lemon ½
butter 75g
parmesan 20g, grated
garlic 2 large cloves
chard 100g, young leaves
butter 40g
parmesan 10g, in a piece
Peel the artichokes, then either boil them in salted water, acidulated with the lemon juice, or cook them in a vegetable steamer. Either way they will take about 15 minutes to come to tenderness. While the artichokes are cooking, peel the garlic and slice it thinly. Trim the chard, cutting off and discarding any browning edges on the stems.
Melt 40g of butter in a shallow pan, then add the sliced garlic and leave to cook until golden and crisp. You will need to move it around the pan and take care that it becomes crisp, but doesn’t burn. Remove from the pan and place on a piece of kitchen paper.
Drain the artichokes and mash to a smooth purée either by hand or using a machine, adding the 75g piece of butter as you go. Season with salt, black pepper and some of the grated parmesan.
Return the shallow pan to the heat and add the chard leaves, tossing them in the garlicky butter that remains in the pan for a couple of minutes until they start to wilt. Divide the creamed artichoke between two hot plates then place the chard and garlic on top. Add a few shavings of parmesan, cut from the block with a vegetable peeler, and the reserved fried garlic at the last moment.
Email Nigel at nigel.slater@observer.co.uk or follow him on Twitter @NigelSlater