San Francisco Magazine
February 2008
When I began working in restaurants, carrots were not held in high esteem. Denizens of stocks and salad bars, they were considered common and unexciting, something to overcook and then drown in butter as a “vegetable of the day.” Baby carrots fared even worse: Three tiny ones on an oversize plate became the standard joke about the pretensions of nouvelle cuisine.
My perspective shifted considerably when I moved to the Bay Area in the late ’80s. Tasting a carrot that had just been pulled from the earth was exciting—and surprising. It was sweet, intensely flavored, almost alive, with a complexity that suggested the received wisdom was not so wise.
In recent years, there has been a carrot renaissance of sorts, bringing a multitude of shapes, sizes, and colors to local markets. They serve as a reminder that a well-grown carrot is just about a perfect vegetable, cheerfully adaptable to almost any preparation without losing the qualities that make it special.
At the market
Carrots planted in the fall are at their best through February—as with other root vege-tables, cold weather makes them sweeter. As temperatures rise, any carrots still in the ground will start to grow again, which is why spring carrots sometimes develop a woody core. In spite of their reputation as a storage crop, carrots don’t benefit from time in the refrigerator, especially when bought fresh with the tops. The immediacy of flavor of a just-dug carrot dissipates over a few days, so use them as soon as you can. If you plan on keeping carrots for a while, store them in a plastic bag to keep them crisp.
The diversity of carrot strains offered at farmers’ markets can be bewildering, so I find that snapping a small piece off the end and tasting it is the best way to decide which to buy, as well as better understand their differences. For example, Nantes have a more traditional flavor profile and shape, while Chantenay are thicker and more intensely flavored, with a rich, lingering sweetness.
One of the most distinctive varieties is the Oxheart carrot, a 19th-century heirloom grown by Jesse Kuhn at Marin Roots (marinroots.com). Oxhearts are as meaty as their name suggests, with a deep, complex flavor that stands up well to braises and stews. They’re not, however, the most lissome vegetable. Stubby in their youth, they grow steadily and irregularly, until in adulthood they resemble mutant candy corn. Cooked long and slow in a moist environment, they make a dramatic tableside presentation, where they can be sliced like a roast.
No matter where you buy your carrots, be sure they’re organic. They won’t cost much more than conventionally raised ones, but the flavor difference can be dramatic: The watery, insipid flavor of industrially grown carrots may be one of the reasons the vegetable has lost some of its luster.
On the menu
Greg Dunmore, executive chef at Ame (689 Mission Stt., S.F., 415-284-4040), inspired by the ethereal sweetness of Nantes carrots from Full Belly Farm (fulL bellyfarm.com) recently made a carrot foam to accompany local swordfish and mizuna risotto. It’s a sauce that’s easy to make at home. A few pinches of powdered lecithin (a soybean derivative sold in natural-food stores) adds the necessary protein to stabilize the bubbles (protein also keeps the milk foam in coffee drinks from dissipating). Fresh carrot juice, seasoned with citrus and red wine vinegar, then frothed with a handheld blender, makes a simple and tasty sause for poached or steamed fish.
Bruce Hill, chef at Bix (56 Gold St., S.F., 415-433-6300) and Picco (320 magnolia ave., larkspur, 415-924-0300), cuts carrots into wedges and roasts them, combines them with reduced carrot juice and a little butter, and serves them as a side dish. “Don’t push the salt with carrots,” he advises. “They don’t respond well to aggressive seasoning.”
In the kitchen
Carrots remain indispensable in almost any stock, although whether or not stock itself is indispensable depends on your perspective. “I don’t use carrots for stock,” says Mourad Lahlou of Aziza (5800 Geary Blvd., S.F., 415-752-2222), “because we don’t use stocks in Morocco. If I use carrots in a stew, they become the main flavoring ingredient.”
Lahlou likes to make an orange-and-carrot salad with Thumbelinas from Heirloom Organic Garden (heirloom-organic.com), with vibrant flavors that belie carrots’ humble image. In a nonreactive pot, reduce 1 cup orange juice by half, allow to cool, and stir in 1 tablespoon
orange-blossom honey and 2 tablespoons lemon juice. Toast 1 ½ teaspoons cumin seeds over medium heat until they’re fragrant, then cool and pound with a mortar and pestle. Peel and quarter 1 pound Thumbelina carrots (or cut larger carrots into 2-inch pieces), then sauté them in 1/4 cup olive oil until lightly browned and crisp-tender. Drain off the excess oil, season the carrots with salt, and add them to a mixing bowl. Add the reduced orange-juice mixture, cumin, segments from 2 blood oranges, and 1/3 cup halved Moroccan cured black olives. Toss, adjust seasoning with salt and black pepper, transfer to salad plates, and garnish with 1/3 cup of toasted almonds, a few cilantro leaves, and 8–10 torn mint leaves.
