When I was a nipper, I’d put a handful of crisps in my pyjama pocket whenever the possibility presented itself, in the hope of a sneaky under-duvet midnight feast. I was rather overfond of Frazzles and Bacon Wheat Crunchies. And of course salt and vinegar crisps. It is a peculiarity of that flavour that most love it up to the age of 13, go right off it until around 35 and then remember how great it is.
Were I the sort to wear pyjamas to bed (and let’s be fair, unless you’re Geoffrey Palmer or either of Morecambe and Wise, that’s only one step away from tucking your shirt into your pants) I would be smuggling two new flavours of crisp to bed.
One at a time: chervil root. I kid you not, this is the most delicious new thing I’ve eaten in literally years. I say ‘new thing’ it’s been around forever, but more over the channel than in the UK. I’m no fan of new things for the sake of it and certainly not of novelties that set your mouth alight but not with flavour. This is the real deal.
Sweet, (but not in the way that squash can sometimes overdo), chestnutty and very very fine.
Secondly, parsley root. Also known as Hamburg parsley and as old as the hills. The flavour is a better version of the child you’d expect from a carrot and celery.
I made crisps with both. They were equally, differently delicious. It couldn’t be simpler. Put a couple of inches of sunflower oil in a widish pan over a medium heat. While it’s getting up to temperature, wash the roots and shave strips lengthways using a peeler. Pop a small cube of bread in to the oil – you want it to fizz and brown but not too quickly – the crisps turn very dark and bitter if the oil’s too hot, so be patient: turn down the heat and let it cool a little.
In with the uncooked crisps (the softs?) – not too many at once, they’re happier with some room. Turn them once in a while with a slotted spoon and when they’re lightly brown all over lift them out on to kitchen paper to drain.
Keep the chervil root and parsley root crisps separate: when most of the oil has drained but a little remains, dust the chervil root crisps with salt and black pepper…
…and the parsley root with caster sugar and cinnamon or mixed spice.
They may be the nicest things I’ve ever cooked. Or at least they were the nicest things I cooked last weekend. My 7 year old daughter thinks so too, and unlike me, she’s not prone to exaggerating for effect.
I also roasted some of each, with squash*. Again, they were both extraordinary. Especially the chervil root. They may be the nicest things I’ve ever cooked. Or at least they were the nicest things I cooked last weekend. My 7 year old daughter thinks so too, and unlike me, she’s not prone to exaggerating for effect.
They are both easy to grow: sow the seed from March as you would most roots – shallow, just covered with fine soil/compost, and either closely in lines to thin, or spaced 8-10cm apart.
Lift them from September to January when they are the size you fancy – these parsley troots were like small parsnips/medium carrots; the chervil roots like small Jerusalem artichokes/baby new potatoes.
If you fancy trying either chervil root or parsley root, you can have a packet of either free.
All you have to do is spend over £10 in the shop and add them to your basket – enter the code Roots in the discount code field as you go through the checkout process and we’ll deduct £2 from your bill. I’m too nice by halves.
* Everyone** lies about squash: roast squash is pretty ordinary. Oversweet, a bit so-so on the texture. It’s great babyfood. I’m not roasting it again, unless I’m using it in something like ravioli.
** Literally everyone.
I wish to disagree re squash, or at least some squash. The French Marron types do (as the name suggests) taste like chestnuts and are in my book pretty wonderful just roasted with olive oil & eaten skin & all.
Will be certain to try your roots though.
Lawd, I love crisps so much it’s practically indecent. I’d send them a Valentine’s Day card if I thought they might appreciate it and it didn’t cut into my crisp-buying budget so much. I also love chervil and grow masses of it so I’m looking forward to lifting a few roots to fry up like this. Obviously I agree about squash. Quite a good carrier for flavours (mountains fo chilli and garlic) but far too sweet on its own. I think we love it as much for its intensely cheering colour in the midst of all that autumnal brownness as anything else.
I knew it’d get at least you two going about squash….I do like it, I just think it’s not all *that*. Crown Prince and Uchi Kuri are by far my favourites…but I shall grow a marron or two as instructed. thank you
Sounds delicious. I’m intrigued as to what ‘mixed space’ is – do they sell it in Sainsbury’s?
It’s how we toffs pronounce ‘spice’…I forgot this readership was so common and have altered it to the common spelling…
Can I send the bill for new laptop? I appear to have salivated all over mine, and now it makes a funny beeping noise every time I press the spacebar.
I hang out in Heritage Horticulture Land and a roasted Pompion is what passes for excitement round here – there’s a whole lotta turnips going on! We also get in a little bit of a Tudor flutter about Sweet Cicely root – but maybe that’s because our corsets are too tight….
Okay.
This seems as good a place as any for a full confession.
I have never liked crisps.
Ever.
I could be occasionally persuaded to pop a Pringle (which I realise is a poncy mutation of the crisp) or a cheesy wotsit.
A Skip gave brief entertainment by sticking to the roof of the mouth.
But crisps….?
Bit pointless and sharp.
There you go…
the honest truth.
You can throw things at me now – maybe those big crisps that occasionally appeared in packets and amused the That’s Life team when it was not the season for vulgar vegetables. They might make effective Ninja shuriken if weighted properly.
Im with you JAS on the crisp front, and these look roof-of-the-mouth-slicing of cola cube dimensions. I also never liked fizzy pop and popping candy due to their mouth-assaulting properties. Delicate flower that I am.
Skips or Quavers stuck to dog’s noses. That what passes as fun round these parts.
R.W.Oakley a.k.a A traumatised victim
I regard Pringles as very refined. Now I’m not promising never again to touch a Scampi Fry – I think it’s okay to include the Scampi Fry in the crisp bracket, isn’t it – but I will certainly try your nouvelle crisps.
So, so true on the salt and vinegar crisps. I remember loving them as a kid and then went off them in favour of cheese and onion. I’m still partial to a bag of Tayto cheese and onion when I go home but have been made very happy by the fact that the Germans have figured out in the last year or so how to make not-too-shabby salt and vinegar crisps.
Salt and Vinegar…you’re speaking my language. Those look fantastic, will definitely have to give em a go, hopefully this weekend!