The rains and mist of March have not given way to a great burst of spring. Not yet. There is a tension in the air. Crocuses are sharing space with daffodils. The air is heavier. Still at the markets root vegetables persist.
This week to celebrate the flavors of Ireland their presence is welcome. Really there is no meal without potatoes.
Tonight with chicken and greens potatoes and parsnips were prepped for the oven. They were cut into batons roughly the same size. This results in the potatoes, russets tonight, coming out golden and crisp. The parsnips emerge mahogany with a caramelized crunch.
There was nothing advanced done to before hand. The veg were cut, tossed with olive oil, and seasoned. Perhaps a bit too aggressively with pepper; one diner complained of spiciness. But then dug back into the bowl picking out parsnips. I’m not convinced the comment holds much weight.
To fancify this side it could be tossed in a dash of honey and fresh thyme leaves out of the oven. And then tossed with another sprinkle of a coarser salt like fleur de sea. Tonight dinner was about quiet preparation for the week ahead not mind blowing gastronomic experiences.