As far as names go, the Jerusalem artichoke is about as misleading as it gets. They’re not from Jerusalem (they originated in America) and they’re not related to globe artichokes (they just taste vaguely similar).
Following their discovery in North America, these little tubers were imported to Europe in the early 1600s, where they were grown extensively for both human and animal fodder. They were particularly popular in France and Italy where they were discovered to be a relative of the sunflower. Thus, the name is most likely a corruption of ‘girasole’, the Italian name for the flower and other members of the daisy family. The fashionable food duly made its way to Britain where it has thrived ever since.
Knobbly and gnarly in shape, Jerusalem artichokes range from yellow to pink in colour and are hugely versatile. As with most small tubers, a quick scrub and (if you wish) peel should be sufficient preparation; and in terms of cooking, you can more or less treat them like new potatoes. From a flavour perspective, however, they pack considerably more punch than your average spud, making them a superb feature ingredient in a warm winter salad or the mainstay of a velvety-smooth soup.
In more ways than one, Jerusalem artichokes have an affinity with pheasant. The game birds are so fond of them that some of the large shooting estates still grow artichokes as a fodder crop. In the circumstances (since the pheasants don’t have much choice in the matter) it’s a bit of a stretch to suggest this is an example of the cook’s saying that ‘what grows together goes together’ but, by happy coincidence, the nutty tang of artichokes complements the gamey notes of pheasant (and other game birds) so you’ll frequently find them paired on the plate.
In season from November through to early March, Jerusalem artichokes should feature regularly on your winter and early-spring menu.
Try: Jerusalem artichoke soup (p. 26)