O, Jerusalem!

For someone who used to work in a fruit and vegetable business, there are an awful lot of vegies I’ve never tried before, and even more I’ve never cooked. And I’m not just talking about the exotic ones from the local Vietnamese grocer. Kale, celeriac, choko, yam, kohlrabi (thanks, Amanda) – I ought to be ashamed! It’s like the bloody chocolate ice-cream all over again - sticking with what I know and unwilling to experiment.

I greet the Jerusalem artichokes with cynicism. They look like a cross between ginger and a potato. I’m not exactly filled with optimism about their flavour.

Naturally I turn to Stephanie for some thoughts. She tells me something I already know – they’re not artichokes and have nothing to do with Jerusalem. They are, in fact, a relative of the sunflower. I decide to make Stephanie’s Jerusalem artichoke soup. First I have to peel and cut the tubers. It’s like trying to peel a potato with a dozen huge pimples on it and each one takes forever. Then I have to throw the cut pieces into some lemony water so they don’t go brown. Luckily the soup is an easy job – sautéing onion, garlic and the artichokes in loads of butter, then adding stock and simmering until tender. I blend the whole lot up, pass it through a sieve, and then serve it up with a drizzle of cream and a sprinkling of nutmeg.

It looks dull, tastes odd and I’m still lacking enthusiasm. But when I sit down to a small bowl of it a bit later, it starts to grow on me. And grow and grow. It’s yummy. Delicious, in fact. The texture of the soup is silky and smooth. The flavour is hard to describe - a bit nutty, a bit luxurious, like something with more ingredients in it that was much harder to make. Not a bad effort, all in all.