behold the parsnip

I do love a good parsnip, such a herald of fall, such a carroty crispness. Even the name parsnip is just so peppy. I find that a little extra pep is a good thing as summer sizzles to an end. So, welcome parsnips. I've been waiting. I got my greatest exposure to this humble root veggie while teaching in the Czech Republic, a country so renown for craft beer that I rarely hear it referenced in regard to cooking. Which is a shame really. I had more than my fair share of rich, lovingly prepared meals all over the country. And if there were ever a people who embraced the parsnip whole heartedly it would be the Czechs. There were just piles of them at every market I shopped. I ate them fried and funneled into paper cones like french fries, roasted alongside pork and mushrooms and creamed with potatoes and celery root. I bought a bottle of homemade wine at a little family run deli on the side of the highway one evening on the way to a dinner party expecting a rough sherry-ish concoction. When the host pulled the cork before dinner he inhaled deeply at the neck of the open bottle and his face softened into a dreamy wistfulness. It was a bottle of parsnip wine, something he had made with his grandmother and grandfather every fall of his childhood.  The wine was unlike anything I'd had. A bit sweet from the natural sugars in parsnips but deeply earthy and mineral. I wished I had bought more.
I'm no wine maker and It is unlikely that I will have another chance to sip a glass of parsnip wine but that is okay so long as the parsnips keep coming I will be ready with a recipe for savory parsnip strudle.
Just peel and slice about a pound of parsnips into rounds. In a heavy bottomed skillet slowly caramelize the parsnips and two large sliced onions in a bit of butter until soft and golden, adding salt and black pepper to taste. Transfer the vegetables to a baking dish and dot everything with about four ounces of fresh goat cheese. In a separate bowl combine a generous pinch of salt  half a stick of ice cold butter, a teaspoon of dried or fresh thyme and a cupful of whole grain flour. Use your hands to squeeze and blend the mixture until you have a bowlful of buttery herb-scented crumb topping. Sprinkle over the parsnips and onions and bake in a 350 degree oven four about thirty minutes until everything is golden and bubbly. This and a simple green salad is lovely to find on an early autumn supper table.