Sophie Grigson - Vegetables

I like carrots. You like carrots. Everyone likes carrots. No point analysing their success – we know that they do a brilliant job bobbing up time and again on plates the world over. Naturally, there are carrots and then there are carrots. And by that I mean that some carrots have the most exquisite sweet carroty flavour, so good you should really just gobble them up raw, and then sadly, other carrots are dull and lacklustre, providing, one hopes, vitamins and other good-health requirements, if not a great deal in realms of pleasure.

There is no telling before the first bite, which makes buying carrots the tamest form of Russian roulette going. There are people who swear blind that organic carrots taste better than non-organic, and often they do. But no one has yet managed to convince me that it is their organicness that makes the difference. No, I reckon that it’s a lot more to do with variety, conditions in the field, freshness and luck, as well as good husbandry.

You may also not be aware that the orange carrot is a comparatively modern phenomenon, and not one that occurs in the wild. The true colour of the carrot is off-whitein the case of the Mediterranean native, or purpleor redwhen growing in more exotic places like Afghanistan, though one imagines that there aren’t many left growing in the wild there. You can, however, find purplecarrots closer to home in more hospitable surroundings. They are still eaten on the island of Mallorca – a trip to the excellent covered market in the heart of Palma is all it takes to track them down. The difference in taste is minimal but the colour is sheer drama.

A happy carrot is firm from tip to stem, no bruising or discoloration, with a pleasing light carroty smell. The slightest hint of flabbiness spells disaster, and slimy ends or rotting soft spots are to be avoided like the plague.

Buying carrots in bunches, with a duster of fluffy green leaves, is the only way you can be sure that they are newly tugged from the earth, but since they store rather well (especially with a dusting of soil still protecting them) freshness is not the critical issue it is with so many other vegetables. Take advantage of it when bunched carrots are on offer, and for the rest of the year pick out carrots of similar size to each other so that they cook evenly. Really small mini carrots, cute though they are, often taste of very little. Costwise it makes sense to go for larger carrots, which should have developed more depth of flavour. The swelling of ginormous carrots, on the other hand, may be partially due to too much water, so they have a tendency to dullness. These are crude generalisations, so there will always be exceptions, but they are the best I can offer as guidelines.

Store carrots either in an airy, dry, cool spot, or in the vegetable drawer of the fridge.

Peeling or scraping or just a quick scrub? All three have their supporters, but personally I go for the peeling unless my carrots are pristine organic roots of impeccable freshness. Scraping is a messy business, I find, and slower than peeling. I know that peeling is wasteful, but you could save the peelings for the stockpot, or the compost, or even get yourself a backyard pig to feed them to. There is no doubt that commercially grown carrots must be either peeled or scraped in order to eliminate pesticide residues. When it comes to organic carrots, by definition free from pesticides, you might well consider that a good wash is sufficient.

Rawcarrots are under-used. I love them in salads, coarsely grated and dressed perhaps with a mustardy vinaigrette, studded with raisins or currants and toasted pine nuts or walnuts. Or to give a more exotic air, try tossing them with lemon juice, rosewater, a little sugar, salt and a touch of sunflower oil, Moroccan-style. Grated carrots make a handsome addition to a sandwich, too, especially with cheese or hummus.

There are times when ‘over’-cookedcarrots are wonderful – in a stew, say, where they’ve donated some of their sweet flavour to the other ingredients in exchange for some of theirs. However, carrots that have been left to boil in plain water for too long have received nothing in compensation but water, ergo they taste of very little. Simmeredor boiledor steamedcarrots do not take long to cook – the thickness of the pieces dictates exactly how long, but think in terms of 4–6 minutes. That should be long enough for the heat to have developed the flavour, but not so long that it all leaches out. If you know that the carrots you are about to cook are not very sweet, try adding a teaspoonful or two of sugar to the cooking water.

Boiled perfectly, a good carrot retaining just the right degree of firmness is a pleasure to eat plain, but even nicer with a gloss of melted butter, or fragrant lemon olive oil. In the summer I add a speckling of chopped lemon balm or mint; in the winter thyme or savory enhances the flavour.

Although boiling or steaming will always remain the principal way we cook carrots, once in a while have a go at frying(see the salad recipe overleaf) or stir-frying them, cut into slender batons. Roastedcarrots should become part of your regular repertoire, if they aren’t already. They taste divine, and are sooo very easy. Just peel the carrots and halve or quarter lengthways if they are huge, then toss them into a roasting tin with a little extra virgin olive oil, a handful of garlic cloves (no need to peel), a few chunky sprigs of thyme or rosemary and a scattering of coarse salt. Roast in a hot oven (200–220°C/400–425°F/Gas 6–7) for around 40–45 minutes, stirring once or twice, until patched with brown and extremely tender.

Since carrots are so amiable, there are few tastes that don’t marry well with them. I don’t much like the idea of canned anchovies or chocolate with carrots, but I’m hard pressed to think of much else to avoid. Carrots love to be cooked with spices, with herbs, with garlic and chilli, in sweet dishes (such as carrot cake), in pickles, with meat or fish, with cheeses, and of course with other vegetables. This, I imagine, is one of the reasons that you bump up against carrots wherever you eat in the world. And this is also why we should value them more than we do.

I’ve been making this salad for years and years and it still seems just as fabulous as it did way back in the mists of time. It comes down to taking a bit of time over the frying, so that the carrots soften as their inner sugars caramelise and every mite of flavour in them concentrates itself. Add plenty of fresh lemon and lots of breathy mint and you have a small miracle of a salad on your hands. If you don’t believe me, have a go.

Incidentally, if you prefer, you can roast the carrots in a hot oven (around 220°C/425°F/Gas 7) with a generous dousing of good olive oil for some 30–40 minutes, until browned and tender.

Serves 4

450g (1 lb) carrots (smaller rather than larger)

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

juice of 1/2 lemon

2 tablespoons chopped mint

salt and pepper

If using small carrots, top and tail them, then halve lengthways and cut each piece in half. Treat medium-sized carrots in much the same way, but quarter them lengthways.

Heat the oil in a wide, heavy frying pan and add the carrots. Fry slowly, shaking and turning every now and then, until the carrots are patched with brown and tender. This should take about 15 minutes. Tip into a bowl and mix with the lemon juice, mint, salt and pepper. Leave to cool and serve at room temperature.