IDENTITY

Helianthus tuberosus, sunroot, sunchoke, topinambour, earth apple. I've never cooked a vegetable with so many names. 

Last Sunday afternoon, Bella wrote up a list of all the dinners she wanted for the week. Then she handed me a detailed grocery list as I mumbled, "Where do you come from? Are you sure we're related?" I never plan more than a day ahead for meals.

The most common name is Jerusalem artichoke. But they have nothing to do with Jerusalem and they aren't even in the artichoke family.

Having taken care of the meals for the week, Bella looked down at my scrappy boots and took on my fashion sense.

Above ground, the yellow flowers are similar to those of the sunflower (they are, in fact, both members of the Asteraceae family), leading to yet another name: girasole (Italian for sunflower).

"Mama. Really. You would look so great in high-heeled super shiny tall black boots."

The girl I cooked up almost nine years ago is now encouraging me to bring out my trashy side.

If you say girasole ten times fast it really does start to sound like Jerusalem. Just a theory. Try it?

"Mama, can I get streaks in my hair?"

"Like blond streaks?"

"No, like turquoise or pink."

I've always wanted pink streaks in my hair. She will not get them first.

Below ground, the edible tubers are often confused with the ginger root.

Bella sat down to help me prep dinner and teach Dash how to peel Jerusalem artichokes (with a few pauses in there for daydreaming).

"Turn the peeler around. That's right, Dashi. Well done."

"But Bella, this is so HARD."

"Dashi, you're doing it. You're amazing."

The texture is somewhere between potatoes and jicama.

They managed to peel about 20 of them before Dash grabbed Bella's peeler. So she smacked him upside the head. He punched her in the ribs. She told him she would hate him forever. And he took out his cardboard sword and threatened to kill her. 

When you peel them, reddish steaks might appear directly below the skin, almost like burst blood vessels.

In a disturbingly calm voice I said, "I'm done with both of you. Done." 

Dash looked stunned. His mama can still break his heart. But Bella, unfazed, grabbed her glasses and started to read.

Don't eat too many in one sitting because they're hard to digest and can make you gassy.

I put on my headphones, pretended I didn't have children, and researched Jerusalem artichokes.

For an easy purée, boil 20 or so peeled Jerusalem artichokes in heavily salted water for about 10 minutes (they cook very fast). Drain off water and return them to the pot. Over low heat, mash with a fork but keep it a bit chunky. Add 1/2 stick of butter, 1/2 cup of heavy cream, salt, and pepper. Taste. Adjust. Serve immediately topped with chopped chives and/or parsley. You could certainly skip the butter and cream and use milk instead. But that would be sad.

The next morning, Bella made her own breakfast, helped Dash get dressed, and then reminded me to marinate the lamb chops. I hugged her her so tight she gave me the double eye roll. I ran my fingers through her hair, and considered her request.

"So, Bella. Streaks, eh? I'm open to that. Should I get some too?

"What? Really? No, mama. I don't think they would look good with your clothes. You wear too much grey."

So I went online and researched boots.