Nigel Slater, TV cook, bestselling cookery author and food columnist for The Observer, has joined the RHS grow your own campaign.
In this series, Nigel focuses on the best produce for growing and cooking
Nigel's Jerusalem artichoke recipes
Discover Nigel's Jerusalem artichoke recipes:
Jerusalem artichokes
Nigel Slater brings these earthy vegetables from his garden – where plentiful crops are produced in restricted space – to his kitchen, with some tasty tips along the way.
Of all the crops I have ever grown in my garden the patch of Jerusalem artichokes has been the most consistently rewarding. When other vegetables and fruits are being capricious and needing every bit of attention we can offer, it is useful to have a crop that never lets you down.
Jerusalem artichokes (Helianthus tuberosus) are of value for their reliability, but also for their ability to put up with anything the garden can throw at them – harsh wind, drought and poor soil conditions. The fact that you only need to leave a handful of tubers in the ground each year to
receive a generous crop the following season only adds to their value. What appeals to the cook in me is the thought of having the ingredients for a hearty supper sitting patiently under the soil until I need them.
I first planted a row or two of artichokes as an experiment. I chose ‘Fuseau’ for its smooth appearance, making it easier to peel than the knobbly cultivars, and the rumour that it produced less of the artichoke’s infamous side effects. Sadly only the first quality turned out to be true.
Daisy-like flowers
They thrive in rich, open soil but are less fussy than they could be, growing on a wide range of soils, including heavy ones, in either sunny or shady positions. Mine are tucked next to a 1.5m (5ft) yew hedge. The stems are lanky, growing up to 3m (10ft) tall and prone to needing a stout
cane as summer wears on – earthing up the stems will also add stability. Simple yellow flowers, like those of a large daisy, appear in autumn, their demise signalling that the tubers are ready to harvest. When the leaves begin to yellow in autumn the stems can be cut and laid over the plants to keep the soil warm, easing lifting in frosty conditions. As with potatoes, they need a wide-tined garden fork rather than a spade so as not to damage them, but unlike potatoes they are happy to be left in the ground until you are ready to cook them. Planted a good 20cm (8in) deep, mine seem to survive snow and heavy frost.
The first crop of artichokes, harvested around mid- October, I tend to roast. Just 45 minutes in the oven with butter and some thyme or a bay leaf sends the artichokes fudgy and sweet, a sound addition to a Sunday roast.
Once the first picking has been enjoyed in all its simplicity, I will introduce other ingredients to make an artichoke salad or a soup. Even without the addition of any sort of dairy produce, this soup feels as if it has double cream stirred into it. I tend not to peel, feeling a young artichoke has thin enough skin not to need it. As the season wears on and their skins thicken, then a good scrub with a stiff brush will be more than enough preparation. Any cut surface can be prevented from browning with a dab of lemon juice, whose bright notes will lift the extreme earthy qualities of this vegetable.
Quick cooking
Roasting or frying with butter or groundnut oil is the most appropriate way to bring these members of the sunfl ower family to tenderness. They are prone to collapse in boiling water. If I want to eat them plainly, then I pile them uncut into a steamer and cook for 12–15 minutes or until you can pierce their fl esh with a skewer.
Parsley and Jerusalem artichokes work exceptionally well together, the herb bringing colour to a soup and freshness to a salad. Despite its name – it is a native of North America – there are few Middle Eastern recipes for this particular artichoke (the other being globe artichoke, which shares
only a faintly similar fl avour). This vegetable’s virtues of quick cooking, earthy fl avour and mildness have sadly been overshadowed by its reputation for being diffi cult to digest. I wonder if it isn’t time to forgive the artichoke and instead be grateful for a crop that is both good natured in the garden and delicious in the kitchen.