| Sunchokes: Love at First Bite, if not at First Sight | ![]() |
by Judy Sobeloff, from the February 2004 newsletter
First, a confession about what’s buried in my backyard. When my friend Lahde, former Co-op produce manager, gave me sunchokes to plant two summers ago, I left them in a dusty corner of our kitchen until, finally, I put them in our garden and never dug them up. I wonder about them from time to time. I know about the giant underground fungus on the loose in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, so I keep my eyes open when I go outside.
Last month Stacey, assistant produce manager, stood right next to me and sliced open a sunchoke. It looked like a thumb-size piece of ginger or celery root. Did I want to try it? No. “It’s really good,” she promised. “Raw?” I asked, looking for a way out. But there she was, smiling, wielding her knife, so I bit in. The raw sunchoke was delicious: crisp, crunchy, even slightly creamy with a surprising hint of sweetness, similar to a water chestnut.
The sunchoke, also known as Jerusalem artichoke, is the root of a perennial sunflower plant. Sunchokes are native to North America, and, says Lahde, a “good local storage crop” that will keep in the refrigerator for several weeks or in a root cellar all winter.
First cultivated by Native Americans, sunchokes reached Europe in the early 1600s, where, according to food writer Peggy Trowbridge, the French, “who call it topinambour (incidentally also a term used for an uncouth, uneducated person,)” improved and cultivated them more widely. Trowbridge adds, “For many years, the Jerusalem artichoke was shunned due to an old wives’ tale linking it to leprosy simply because of the similarity of the tubers to the shape of deformed fingers caused by the disease.” During World War II, she says, sunchokes and rutabagas were the most widely available vegetables.
Trowbridge suggests using sunchokes as a substitute for potatoes, or mashed as a thickener for soups and stews. Lahde’s favorite use of sunchokes is in spaghetti sauce — they taste like artichoke hearts. Lahde prefers peeling sunchokes if eating them raw, but not peeling them for cooking; others suggest scrubbing rather than peeling. Don't overcook because they quickly become mushy, and sunchokes can be difficult to digest, causing flatulence, so “first tastings should be in small amounts,” says Trowbridge.
Surely the latter concern is what Jonna, age two, had in mind when she removed her first and only morsel of Deborah Madison’s “Sautéed Jerusalem Artichokes with Sunflower Seeds” from her mouth after only a brief visit there. I thought I had erred on the side of undercooking, but Sarah, an avid eater of sunchokes, assured me she enjoyed the “crisp crunch” of my sautéed chokes. I then made “Quinoa Sunchoke Pilaf” next. This one’s a keeper. Kate raved, “I love the crunch. It has a nice full flavor to it and it’s healthy.”
SAUTÉED JERUSALEM ARTICHOKES WITH SUNFLOWER SEEDS
1 pound Jerusalem artichokes, sliced into 1/4-inch rounds
2 tablespoons sunflower seed oil
Salt and freshly milled pepper
3 tablespoons toasted sunflower seeds
2 tablespoons chopped parsley
1 teaspoon chopped thyme
Sauté the Jerusalem artichokes in the oil in a large skillet over high heat until lightly browned and tender but still a bit crisp. Taste them as they cook; they can be done in 5 minutes or as long as 10. Season with salt and pepper, add the sunflower seeds, parsley, and thyme, and toss well.
QUINOA SUNCHOKE PILAF by Peggy Trowbridge
1/2 cup quinoa
2 tablespoons oil
1/2 cup chopped onion
1-1/4 cup vegetable or chicken broth
3/4 cup chickpeas, cooked or canned (drained and rinsed)
1 cup peeled, chopped sunchokes
1/2 cup peas, fresh or frozen
1/4 teaspoon pepper
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