Food and Fiction: Central Kitchen Parsnip Cakes

Yes a Food and Fiction/Fandom post!

You know, I don’t think I’ve ever read a book that made vegetables seem so delicious until I read The List by Patricia Forde. Don’t get me wrong, I do have a love for my fair share of vegetables, like brussel sprouts and artichokes and green beans and asparagus and eggplants, but surprisingly, I’m actually more picky with veggies than I am with fruits (I effing love fruits in general). So when I read The List, I couldn’t help but want to know what parsnip cakes looked like. Hell, at this point, I don’t even know if I like parsnip. I sure as heck am not a fan of radish (Daikon radish being an exception), and they’re essentially both root vegetables.

She would walk as far as the first potato fields, she told herself, and then turn back. She would still have time to pick up their evening meal from Central Kitchen. A Monday meal. Vegetable soup, parsnip cakes, and green beans. She hated parsnips.

Letta isn’t a big fan of parsnips either, though in her case, she can’t exactly complain. The world of The List is harsh enough that turning down a meal tips the scale of survival to “not bloody likely.” Food is scarce in Ark, and what they have is grown with what limited water they manage to purify. From what I read, it makes sense that most of the food is limited to plants. There’s barely any mention of meat, and even in the forest, most Desecrators and Tintown inhabitants make do with what they can scavenge in the forest (nuts, berries, plants, mushrooms, etc.).

Anyway, parsnip cakes.

I honestly had no idea what these things looked like, for one. So when I looked them up, I realized they were added to potatoes and then fried. I figured anything fried would be great, right? And fried potatoes? Yum yum.

The recipe I found called for mashed potatoes, leeks, and parsnips. Now, I don’t know about you, but I never cooked with leeks and parsnips before. I mean, I knew what leeks looked like (ginormous scallions) and parsnips are often mentioned to be sweeter forms of radish, but again, never used these ingredients before.

I did, however, decide that I like parsnips. They have a sweeter flavor than regular radishes and I could totally eat these pickled or in a raw, stringy form. Leeks on the other hand? Not so much. They’re supposed to be a milder, sweeter, more bake-able version of their smaller relatives, but honestly, I just found the plant boring. And the farmer’s market nearby sells so much of it in a bunch! No idea what to do with the rest of this nonsense. I’ll stick to scallions and spring onions, thank you very much.

Add a bit of salt (okay, a lot of, considering potatoes need quite a bit of seasoning) and pepper, and mix into the mashed potatoes and you’ve pretty much got your concoction ready for frying!

Note: Not a big fan of the mashed potato consistency for these things. I should have just grated the potatoes much like I grated the radish. That would have given a better crunch and texture to the whole thing.

Extra note: Hah, as if the only thing I’d put is salt and pepper. I also added a bit o’ chili powder in there to add some kick to it. Yum yum.

Extra extra note: Oh, and I made a cheese dip with the rest of the leeks I’d cut out. Wasn’t bad, though probably needed a citrus flavor to top it off (lemon or lime preferably). Yum yum.

Verdict: Not too bad. With a couple of changes, it would probably be a delicious snack or mealtime side. I don’t think I was won over, though, but it was a fun experiment. Also, at least now I know I like parsnips!

This counts as #6 of my Food and Fiction Reading Challenge.

One thought on “Food and Fiction: Central Kitchen Parsnip Cakes

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.