Beetroot

Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall

LATIN NAME

Beta vulgaris

SEASONALITY

May–October; stored roots are available until February

MORE RECIPES

Beetroot, strawberry and rocket salad; Spiced horse mushroom and beetroot ‘burger’; Quinoa with cumin-roasted roots and parsley; Foil-baked trout with baby beetroot and spring onions; Hot mackerel, beetroot and horseradish sandwich

Beetroot sits uneasily in our culinary canon. It’s never quite gained the everyday status of its rooty brethren, the potato and the carrot (not that it’s related to either, being a member of the spinach family). We seem to approach its shocking purple hues with instinctive caution. Many wrinkle their nose at it; it’s almost an assumption that children will not like it. I have encouraged mine to get over their infant antipathy by declaring a ‘purple tongue competition’ every time beetroot comes to the table. It’s worked in 3 out of 4 cases (4-year-old Louisa has yet to be convinced).

The national suspicion of beetroot has been a wasted opportunity of epic proportions. So I’m pleased to note that we seem to be getting over it. We must. For beetroot – sweet, juicy, richly flavoured, superbly versatile and of course stunningly coloured – is one of the finest vegetables we have.

It’s true that this venerable root does have a distinct pungency and responds far better to some treatments than others. One of the main reasons it’s fallen out of favour in some circles is that cursed, vinegared stuff in jars that used to blight salads in the 1970s. No vegetable could be expected to come out of such an experience well.

But it’s not hard to hit the right note with beetroot. Firstly, consider size. Young roots – golf ball to snooker ball size – are the sweetest and mildest. Though traditionally an autumn/winter root, modern plant-breeding and seed-sourcing have expanded the growing season, and beetroot is now a summer ingredient too. Small, succulent roots are easy to find as early as late May in good grocers and farmers’ markets. Beetroot continues to be harvested up until October, by which time it develops a certain, not unwelcome, earthy bitterness. The roots on sale through the winter come from store.

Those first sweet little roots are delicate enough to eat raw. And raw beetroot is a revelation: sweet, nutty and aromatic. The crucial thing is to cut it fine. Big chunks of it are hard to negotiate, but grated or slivered into round purple wafers, its texture becomes deliciously crisp and crunchable. I love it simply dressed with good oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper. Combine it with a little garlic-laced yoghurt, perhaps some dill, a scattering of crunchy walnuts, a posy of watercress and you’ve got a sumptuous salady starter. Raw beetroot is great for juicing too.

Cooked beetroot, of any size, has a much deeper, more rounded flavour and is again wonderful in salads or blitzed into a soup with stock and soured cream. It’s also excellent as a side dish in its own right, especially with pigeon or other game.

You can boil it, but roasting it in a foil parcel is my preferred method. It concentrates the flavour and sweetness. Add a little roughly bashed garlic, perhaps a couple of bay leaves or a sprig of thyme to the parcel, along with a splash of oil or butter and some salt and pepper. Put it in a fairly hot oven – around 190°C/Fan 170°C/Gas 5 – and give it at least an hour, maybe 1½ hours, to become yielding and tender. Leave to cool a little, then peel the skins from the cooked roots (a gloriously messy job), dress them with the purple, buttery juices and use warm or cold.

If you see bunched young beetroot with the leaves still attached – and those leaves look lush and healthy – grab them. These beet tops are a fantastic vegetable in their own right, a lot like Swiss chard (which is a different form of the same Beta vulgaris species). Separate the stems from the leaves because they cook at different rates. Sauté the chopped stalks with garlic for about 10 minutes, then add the shredded leaves and wilt them down for a further 5 minutes or so. This delicious combination can be dished up just as it is, lubricated with a little cream as a pasta sauce, topped with breadcrumbs and cheese and gratinated, or used in a tart filling.

Beetroot has a high sugar content for a vegetable, and the practice of using it in sweet dishes – an avenue we’ve explored with great success at River Cottage – is a fruitful one. Cooked then grated or puréed, it adds an uncloying sweetness, a delicate moistness and a whisper of distinctive aromatic flavour to puds and cakes. It pairs particularly well with chocolate: beetroot brownies and beetroot chocolate ice cream are two of my favourite sweet beet treats.

These days, it is the dark purple-crimson, globe-shaped beetroot that is most familiar to us (though this type was only introduced in the seventeenth century). Its extraordinary colour makes it my personal favourite and its visual appeal should not be underestimated: that deep, dramatic red will turn a risotto into a talking point and a soup into a spectacle before you’ve even tasted it.

But other forms of beetroot are available. Rather hard to resist is the spectacular ‘Chioggia’ variety, which reveals pink-and-white layers like psychedelic tree rings when sliced open. There are white and egg-yolk yellow beets to be had too. All taste similar to the classic deep red beet and look very beautiful, particularly when combined, raw, in a glorious multi-coloured salad. They regularly crop up (so to speak) at farmers’ markets and are also widely available as seeds if you fancy growing your own.

ROASTED BEETROOT ORZOTTO WITH LAVENDER

Orzotto is like risotto, only made with pearl barley rather than rice (pearled spelt works well too). Fragrant lavender has a great affinity with earthy, sweet beetroot but rosemary or one of the savories will be equally complementary. Serves 4

About 500g small or medium beetroot, scrubbed

3 tbsp olive or rapeseed oil

50g butter

1 onion, finely chopped

2 garlic cloves, finely chopped

A few strips of finely pared lemon zest

300g pearl barley, or pearled spelt, rinsed and drained

A glass of dry white wine

1 litre hot chicken or vegetable stock

1 tsp finely chopped lavender leaves (or rosemary)

200g soft goat’s or ewe’s cheese, crumbled

A little extra virgin olive or rapeseed oil, to finish

Sea salt and black pepper

Preheat the oven to 190°C/Fan 170°C/Gas 5.

Place the beetroot in a small roasting tin, season well with salt and pepper and trickle with 1 tbsp oil. Cover with foil and roast for 1–1½ hours, longer if necessary, until tender. When cool enough to handle, remove the skin from the beetroot. Cut the flesh into cubes or slim wedges.

Heat the remaining 2 tbsp oil and half the butter in a large saucepan over a medium heat. Add the onion, garlic and lemon zest and cook gently for 10 minutes until the onion is soft but not coloured. Add the beetroot and stir well. Now add the barley or spelt and cook, stirring occasionally, for a further 2 minutes.

Pour in the wine and let it reduce, stirring until it has bubbled away to almost nothing. Now start adding the hot stock, a couple of ladlefuls at a time, stirring as you go, adding each new addition after the previous one has been absorbed.

It should take about 40 minutes for all the stock to be incorporated and the barley to become tender (spelt will cook more quickly). If your barley is stubborn, just add a little more stock or hot water and keep cooking until it is done. Take the orzotto off the heat. Sprinkle the lavender and half the cheese over it and dot with the remaining butter.

Cover and leave the orzotto to stand for a few minutes before stirring in the lavender, cheese and butter. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Serve with the rest of the cheese crumbled over the top and a final trickle of extra virgin oil.