Roots

They may never do a TV series on it, but all God's children have roots . . . the edible kind. Our infatuation with roots goes back hundreds of thousands of years. They were among the first food sources for the evolving primate ever since. We, know they're nutritious, crammed with such neat stuff as minerals, fiber and, often, vitamins.

Nevertheless, root vegetables have dreary image in the United States that's largely deserved, considering the way they're prepared. (continued on page 252) Roots (continued from page 129) Carrots are inevitably mated with soggy peas, beets are consigned to boiled dinners or a sweet-and-sour sauce, parsnips are something for the stockpot and turnips are fit only for Li'l Abner and the denizens of Dogpatch.

By slighting these subterranean esculents, we are, in a sense, denying part of our culinary heritage. European chefs value roots and prepare them imaginatively. The French exalt navels, the maligned turnips, in such classic dishes as caneton aux navets and in creamy potages. They also have a nice way with crisp, early red globe radishes--just a dab of sweet butter and a sprinkling of salt.

John Fletcher, 17th Century English playwright, promised, "I shall rise again, if there be truth in eggs and butter'd parsnips." Parsnips are still a tradition in Britain, roasted to tenderness with a joint of beef or baked in pies. The Russians make a lusty borsch from beetroot--magnificent hot or cold. And the Turks go the Russians one better with a surprisingly soft vodka, Izmira, distilled from massive white beets, each weighing four or five pounds. As for mundane carrots, you can soufflé", pure flambé, sauté", make them into candy, cake and pudding--their variety is virtually infinite.

Not everything that grows underground is a root. Potatoes are tubers, onions are bulbs and taro roots are rhizomes. A root, properly, is the lower portion of the plant that collects water and mineral nutriments. It has no function in regeneration (bulb) or storing food for the new plant (tuber). Paradoxically, neither gingerroot nor arrowroot is a root vegetable, but the sweet potato is. And it's a native American--mentioned appreciatively in the records of Columbus' fourth voyage of discovery as tasting "not unlike" chestnuts. It happens to be one of the most nutritionally complete foods and was a major factor in bringing the colonials through the Revolutionary War. A physician of the period considered sweet potatoes "the vegetable indispensable." Another native root, in the sweet-potato family, is known as man-of-the-earth, being similar in size and shape to a man's body. The Cheyenne, Arapaho and Kiowas will eat it roasted, when hungry, but they don't consider it palatable.

Not quite so exotic and definitely more inviting are burdock, celeriac, or celery root, jicama, salsify--known colloquially as oyster plant--icicle radish, lotus root, yuca and horseradish, names calculated to produce a Pavlovian reaction in any card-carrying epicure. While not available in all seasons and every greengrocery, they're by no means rarities and are worth seeking out.

We commend the recipes below to everyone bemused by the subject of roots.

[recipe_title]Hot Borsch, Russian Tea Room[/recipe_title]

Rudolph Bing wants only the clear liquid; Woody Allen prefers his borsch on the dense side. The Russian Tea Room serves it to your taste, even cold.

[recipe]4 cups beef stock[/recipe]

[recipe]3 large beets[/recipe]

[recipe]1 carrot[/recipe]

[recipe]2 stalks celery[/recipe]

[recipe]2 onions[/recipe]

[recipe]1 parsnip[/recipe]

[recipe]1 cup coarsely shredded cabbage[/recipe]

[recipe]1 cup tomato pulp, fresh or canned, strained[/recipe]

[recipe]1 teaspoon sugar[/recipe]

[recipe]1 clove garlic, split[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt, pepper, to taste[/recipe]

[recipe]Thick sour cream, at room temperature[/recipe]

[recipe]Fresh dill, finely chopped[/recipe]

Most home kitchens don't have beef stock on hand. You can make some from canned bouillon or bouillon cubes. Peel beets and shred coarsely. Scrub carrot and celery; peel onions and parsnip; chop fine. Bring stock to boil and add vegetables; simmer, covered, 20 minutes. Add cabbage, tomato, sugar and garlic on a toothpick, so it can be retrieved before serving. Simmer 15 minutes or until cabbage is just tender. Taste before adding salt and pepper, as the stock ingredients can be quite salty. Top each serving with heaping spoonful sour cream and sprinkling dill.

Note: For more vivid color, grate 1/2 raw beet and soak in 2 tablespoons water. Drain, pressing out all liquid with back of spoon; add to pot just before serving.

[recipe_title]Salsify Cote Basque[/recipe_title]

A favorite of La Côte Basque's manager, Albert Spalter, and of the restaurant's savvy clientele, as well.

[recipe]1 can (15 ozs.) salsify[/recipe]

[recipe]2 ozs. sweet butter[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt, pepper, to taste[/recipe]

[recipe]3 tablespoons fresh chives or fines herbes, minced[/recipe]

[recipe]Veal stock or Saucier Glace de Viande[/recipe]

Empty contents of can into strainer and rinse under cold water. Drain well; pat dry with paper towels. Heat butter in 10-in. skillet over fairly high heat. When lightly brown, add salsify and sauté until golden--about 5 minutes. Shake pan constantly. Add salt, pepper, chives or fines herbes; mix quickly and serve.

For special occasions, chef Laverne sauces the dish with reduced veal stock, rarely available in home kitchens. You can get similar results with the new frozen Saucier Glace de Viande. Add 2-oz. cup to pan just before seasoning. When heated through, add salt, pepper, chives. Stir well. Generally served with chicken or veal at La Côte Basque.

[recipe_title]Jicama Tequiliana[/recipe_title]

Jicama (he-ka-ma) is a Mexican import that's becoming better known in the United States. It's a juicy, mild, crisp vegetable that retains its texture when cooked--like the Chinese water chestnut. What's more, jicama is low in calories and relatively inexpensive--a combination of virtues that's hard to resist.

[recipe]1 lb. jicama[/recipe]

[recipe]1 tablespoon salt[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 teaspoon chili powder[/recipe]

[recipe]Light sprinkle cumin[/recipe]

[recipe]Dash cayenne[/recipe]

[recipe]Lime wedges[/recipe]

Wash and peel jicama. Cut into bite-size pieces, roughly l in. x 1/4 in. Combine salt, chili, cumin and cayenne in dish. Feel free to use more or less of any ingredient, depending on your taste. The procedure is to rub jicama with cut side of lime, dip into seasoning mixture and munch--with a shot of cold tequila to send it home.

[recipe_title]Seven Happiness Salad[/recipe_title]

[recipe]2 thin slices fresh gingerroot[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons cider vinegar[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons soy sauce[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons sugar[/recipe]

[recipe]1 1/2 tablespoons sesame oil[/recipe]

[recipe]1 lb. fresh lotus root[/recipe]

[recipe]1 small bunch water cress[/recipe]

Combine first 5 ingredients in salad bowl. Stir well to dissolve sugar; set aside. Bring water up to boil. Prepare separate pan of salted, cold water. Trim and peel lotus root; cut horizontally into thin slices, dropping them into salted water. Pour out water, then cover lotus-root slices with boiling water; let stand 4 to 5 minutes. Meanwhile, wash cress thoroughly and trim stems; drain well. Rinse lotus slices under cold water; drain well. Combine vegetables with prepared dressing; toss well. Chill about 1/2 hour.

[recipe_title]Maxwell's Plum's Horseradish Sauce[/recipe_title]

The hip singles at Manhattan's Maxwell's Plum like this sauce with prime ribs, boiled beef and poultry. If you've never tasted it, go easy; it's quite sharp!

[recipe]1 Spanish onion, chopped fine[/recipe]

[recipe]1 cup white-wine vinegar[/recipe]

[recipe]3 cups rich beef stock or bouillon[/recipe]

[recipe]1 teaspoon salt, or to taste[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon white pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]3 tablespoons butter[/recipe]

[recipe]3 tablespoons flour[/recipe]

[recipe]3 tablespoons sour cream, at room temperature[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 cup grated fresh horseradish[/recipe]

[recipe]1 teaspoon lemon juice[/recipe]

In saucepan, heat onion with vinegar until almost all vinegar has evaporated. Add stock, salt, pepper and simmer on low heat until cooked down to half original volume. Melt butter over low heat in large skillet. Stir in flour and blend thoroughly. (This paste is known as a roux in French kitchens) Remove from heat and slowly stir in seasoned beef stock. Return to heat and simmer 20--30 minutes more. Stir in sour cream. Taste for seasoning; strain. Stir in horseradish; add lemon juice. Serve warm.

[recipe_title]Thanksgiving Sweets[/recipe_title]

Put chestnuts in sweet potatoes, instead of turkey, for agreeable change of taste. You can roast your own, of course, but it's hardly worth the bother.

[recipe]4 medium sweet potatoes, cooked, peeled, sliced[/recipe]

[recipe]3 cooking apples, peeled, thinly sliced[/recipe]

[recipe]1 cup Minerve marrons or other dryroasted chestnuts, coarsely crumbled[/recipe]

[recipe]1/3 cup brown sugar[/recipe]

[recipe]1 teaspoon grated orange rind[/recipe]

[recipe]1/3 cup butter[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons dark rum[/recipe]

Set oven at 350°. Lightly butter shallow baking pan. Combine sugar and orange rind. Arrange layer of sweet potato on bottom of pan; cover with layer of apples. Sprinkle with chestnuts and brown-sugar mixture; dot with butter. Repeat until all ingredients are used, finishing with topping of sugar and butter. Sprinkle with rum. Bake, covered, about 40 minutes, then another 10 minutes uncovered. Worthy of any Thanksgiving bird.

[recipe_title]Savory Celery-root Salad[/recipe_title]

Though usually boiled, celeriac is delicious raw, in a salad. The hard, young roots are best; the older ones tend to lose their snap. Serve with rémoulade sauce, mustard cream, vinaigrette or tangy dressing given below.

[recipe]1 lb. celeriac (celery root)[/recipe]

[recipe]1/3 cup mayonnaise[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup yoghurt[/recipe]

[recipe]1 teaspoon Dijon mustard[/recipe]

[recipe]1/8 teaspoon Coleman's (dry) mustard[/recipe]

[recipe]1 teaspoon chopped fresh dill weed or cilantro[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 teaspoon salt[/recipe]

[recipe]Chopped parsley[/recipe]

[recipe]Paprika[/recipe]

Peel celeriac, removing all fibrous material. Cut into quarters; remove core if woody. Drop pieces into acidulated water (1 pint cold water, 2 tablespoons lemon juice). Combine mayonnaise, yoghurt, mustards, dill weed and salt; set aside. Coarsely shred celeriac on mandoline or cut into matchstick widths. Taste dressing and correct seasoning; there should be noticeable tang of mustard. Add squirt lemon juice or dash white wine if it seems too dense. Toss celeriac in dressing, making sure all pieces are coated. Chill in refrigerator about an hour. Serve in lettuce cups; sprinkle each portion with parsley and paprika.

[recipe_title]Stuffed Turnips Gratinee[/recipe_title]

[recipe]4 large white turnips[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup butter[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup chopped onion[/recipe]

[recipe]1 tomato, peeled, chopped[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup shredded Swiss cheese[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 cup chopped nuts[/recipe]

[recipe]1 teaspoon sugar[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon caraway seeds[/recipe]

[recipe]1/8 teaspoon pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]Shredded Swiss cheese, for topping[/recipe]

[recipe]Parsley[/recipe]

Peel turnips, remove centers to leave shells about 1/2 in, thick. Chop turnip removed from centers. Cook shells in boiling salted water 30 minutes or until just tender. Drain and cool. Set oven at 350°. In large skillet, melt butter. Add onion and reserved chopped turnip; cook until tender. Remove from heat. Add 1/2 teaspoon salt, tomato, cheese, nuts, sugar, caraway seeds and pepper. Lightly sprinkle insides of turnip shells with salt and fill with vegetable-cheese mixture. Sprinkle tops with additional shredded cheese. Place in baking dish and cover. Bake 15 minutes. Garnish with parsley sprigs.

Note: Turnips may also be cooked whole, hollowed out, then heaped with minted buttered carrots or petits pois.

[recipe_title]Whole Baby Carrots A La Creme[/recipe_title]

[recipe]1 lb. whole baby carrots (or frozen baby carrots)[/recipe]

[recipe]4 tablespoons butter[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon salt[/recipe]

[recipe]1/2 teaspoon brown sugar[/recipe]

[recipe]1/8 teaspoon dried tarragon[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons heavy cream[/recipe]

[recipe]Parsley[/recipe]

Scrape carrots. Melt butter in deep heavy skillet. Add carrots and salt. Cover pan; cook over low heat, shaking pan occasionally, until carrots are just tender. Do not let them brown. Uncover, add sugar, tarragon and cream. Cook until cream heats through and reduces slightly. Garnish with parsley sprigs.

[recipe_title]Southern Yam Souffle[/recipe_title]

[recipe]6 medium yams[/recipe]

[recipe]5 tablespoons butter[/recipe]

[recipe]1/3 cup orange juice[/recipe]

[recipe]1/3 cup chopped onion[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt, pepper, to taste[/recipe]

[recipe]1/8 teaspoon nutmeg[/recipe]

[recipe]4 eggs, separated[/recipe]

[recipe]1 egg white[/recipe]

Cook yams in boiling water to cover for 20 minutes or until soft. Cool, peel and mash smooth in large bowl. Add 4 tablespoons butter and orange juice; mix well. Melt 1 tablespoon butter in small skillet, add onion and cook until tender; add to yams with salt, pepper and nutmeg. Beat in egg yolks, one at a time. In large mixing bowl, beat egg whites with pinch salt until stiff but not dry. Stir about 1/4 of the egg whites into yam mixture, gently fold in rest. Turn into greased 1-1/2-quart soufflé dish. Bake in 375° over 50 minutes or until mixture puffs and is lightly browned.

The subject of roots is so intriguing one could write a book about it. But then, what would you call it?

"By slighting these subterranean esculents, we are denying our heritage. European chefs value roots."