Ode to a Carrot

Carrot. With your frothy greens and your vivid root you should be a queen but are, instead, the perfect handmaiden. A plate of crudités would be naked without your grated presence, stew would be a sham without your chunks, an autumn table sad without the golden hue you lend to a steaming vegetable potage.

Since coming to France two decades ago I’ve gained a reverence for the carrot that I didn’t have before. Until then, the carrot was a vivid filler, a prop for a child’s peanut butter sandwich, an achingly sweet accompaniment candied in brown sugar and butter to make it palatable. A rare fresh carrot pulled from the ground and hastily wiped on a pair of jeans was an eye-opener, with its juicy crack and earthy flavor—that was one moment a carrot really shone. But mostly, a carrot was the vegetable your mom made you eat. Now, though, I look at carrots with a whole new eye. It is my Frenchness inexorably inching up on me. I always have a bunch nearby, ready to grate, slice, curl, puree.

Nonetheless, the carrot remains a helper, not a star, even in France. It is well loved, of course, but not revered. Reverence, instead, is shown for its pale cousin the parsnip, or the knobby, gnarled Jerusalem artichoke, or the turnip and the root of parsley. These old fashioned vegetables, now called heirlooms, are vaunted here, particularly by chefs who fry, braise and set them in the center of the plate instead of on the side. The carrot doesn’t get to the center, remaining a secondary constant.

There are fancy carrots of course, multihued in various shades of purple, yellow and white. I’ve seen these steamed and presented in broth but, mostly, even those remain in the wings.

What is it about a carrot that makes it indispensable here in France? Vitamins, I believe. The true French spirit is always seeking a natural remedy for anything that ails—depression, fatigue, moodiness, aches, and indigestion. It’s one of the things I love best about being here—at the first whisper of a health complaint there is always a plant-based solution on offer.

What do carrots give? Carotene, absorbed as vitamin A, gives skin a golden hue. I remember when I first moved to France and visited a French family. There were three toddlers, and they all looked as if they’d just returned from a month on the beach in the Seychelles. The reason for their tans, though, was carrots. Three times a day their energetic mother pressed carrots into juice, and the children drank it. It was their orange juice, and it didn’t preclude carrots in soups, salads and stews. No, those children were made of carrots and today they are none the worse for their early golden diet.

Carrots also offer dietary fiber, antioxidants, folic acid, magnesium and more.They’re a veritable vitamin cocktail.

Economy is another strong point for the carrot. The French, no matter how much is said about their luxurious gastronomy, are frugal at heart. A carrot, costing next to nothing, in the hands of a good French cook or a vaunted French chef can be the basis of a meal. They hug herbs; they hold cumin, juniper, coriander, and peppercorns in their sweet embrace; they sidle up to curry and to coconut milk; they prop up other vegetables in purees and soups.

Carrots keep well, too. In my market, there are two kinds of carrots, the washed and the unwashed. I always watch to see what the older clients buy and, without hesitation, they go for the carrots covered in soil. Why? They keep longer, wrapped in newspaper and stored in a wooden crate in the cave or basement. Carefully stored, a carrot will keep for two or three months. So I buy the soil-covered carrots too. Like radishes, turnips and beets, carrots are taproots—large main roots that grow straight down underground; above ground the branched stems feather out into lacy green leaves. Here in France, carrots are almost always sold with the greenery attached. At the local market, the farmer summarily rips the greens away and drops them in a big crate for someone’s rabbits.I ask to keep them, because I love the way they look. But, as I was told by one of my favorite market gardeners, the greens will suck the moisture from the root and that’s why it isn’t good to keep them. For my cooking classes I display carrots with all their finery, so to keep the roots juicy and the greens fresh, I wrap the lot in wet towels and keep them cool. They’re just fine that way for several days.

Obtaining a Carrot

The best: picking it yourself straight from the ground. Next best: buying from an organic gardener or farmer, with soil still clinging. Don’t wash the carrot until right before you use it.The soil that clings is moist and cool; it helps the carrot stay plump and happy. If the carrots you buy still have their greens, get rid of them if you plan to keep the carrots longer than a day or two.

After that: buy locally raised carrots, organic if possible—they’ll give you sweet juiciness. Otherwise, look for carrots that are very firm and unblemished. So-called “baby” carrots in plastic bags at the supermarket are extraterrestrials—they may be carrots, but they aren’t babies. They’re shaped, washed, bleached and otherwise devoid of flavor and texture. Real baby carrots can be gorgeously sweet and tender, or slightly bitter and not that delicious. My advice is to stick to more mature carrots. The rainbow varieties of carrots are a delight, mostly for the way they add visual spice. Plain Jane orange carrots, if they’re fresh, are a sure bet.

Keeping a Carrot

If you’ve got a cool, dark closet, root cellar or basement, and a couple of wooden crates, you’ve got it made. Line the crates with newspaper (soy-based ink, please!) and stack the carrots in it. Cover them loosely with newspaper. They’ll keep up to three months this way. Even if they start sprouting little threadlike white secondary roots, they can still taste fine. Otherwise, keep them refrigerated, in a vegetable drawer lined with a cotton tea towel to absorb excess moisture. They’ll keep for a week or so.

 

CARROT AND ZUCCHINI SALAD

SALADE DE CAROTTES ET COURGETTES

Based on a salad I had in Tuscany, this very simple recipe turns two humble vegetables into an elegant, flavorful dish.

4 medium carrots, trimmed and peeled

2 medium zucchini, washed and trimmed

1 small clove garlic, minced

½ cup basil leaves, with 4 leaves reserved

3 tablespoons high quality, extra-virgin olive oil

Sea salt

1. Using a vegetable peeler, shave the carrots into thin strips lengthwise, into a shallow bowl. Do the same with the zucchini. You’ll find yourself with the cores of the carrots and zucchini that are impossible to shave down any farther—reserve them for another use, or just munch.

2. Drizzle the olive oil over the vegetables and toss gently but thoroughly. Sprinkle with the minced garlic and a generous amount of salt and toss some more, so that all the ingredients are well mixed.

3. Coarsely chop all but the four reserved basil leaves, and add to the salad. Toss several times. Taste for seasoning, and adjust if necessary.

4. Garnish the salad with the remaining four basil leaves, and serve.

Serves 4 to 6

Susan Herrmann Loomis teaches cooking classes in Normandy and Paris. www.onruetatin.com. The latest of her ten books, Nuts in the Kitchen, is published by HarperCollins.

Find it in the France TodayBookstore: www.francetoday.com/store

Originally published in the October 2011 issue of France Today