Good Eats (1999–2012): Season 13, Episode 5 - Undercover Veggies I - full transcript

So, M. J., how's your steak?

Definitive, Uncle.

You certainly have a way
with Bos taurus.

Oh, well.

Yeah, I guess I do.

But hey, listen, you've got
to eat your vegetables though.

I promised my sister,
your mother, that you would.

I don't like vegetables,
except for potatoes.

I love potatoes.

Well, what about say, maybe ‐‐

‐Is it a vegetable?
‐Well, yeah.



But you could really
just try them ‐‐

Is it a potato?

Well, no.
But what I had in mind ‐‐

Then I won't eat it.

M.J., that's just crazy talk.

De gustibus non est disputandum.

Varitatio delectat.

Vulpes pilum mutat, non mores.

Well, okay, that's true.

But still,

what if I told you
that I could make you vegetables

you would ask for
three times a day?

‐How much?
‐Vegetables?

Cash.
I've got a C‐note



that says it's not
going to happen.

Marsha, Junior,
where did you get $100?

From Chess Club winnings.

Care to match it?

You're on.

Monstra mihi pecuniam!

Sh‐‐ Sh‐‐
Show you the money?

I don't need to ‐‐

I don't have it on me right now,
okay?

But I'll have it by tomorrow
morning.

You can be sure of that.

Fine. I'm going to my room
to check on my portfolio.

Goodnight, Uncle.

‐Goodnight, sweetheart.
‐Goodnight.

You sleep tight now.

Don't let those bed bugs bite.

[ Laughs ]

Little wretch doesn't realize
that vegetables,

especially those containing
considerable sugar reserves,

can be secretly stashed
inside unassuming applications

like stealthy
little health bombs.

All it takes is a little
cunning, the proper produce,

and some strategic techniques.

Oh, yes, M. J., before the sun
sets on another day,

you'll be calling
your veggies...

♪ "Good Eats" ♪

By and large, children ‐‐

and, well, many adults
for that matter ‐‐

do not appreciate vegetables.

That's because
they contain bitter compounds.

And regardless of the culture

into which children are born,
well,

babies just don't do
bitter, okay?

Japanese babies,
African babies,

Native American babies,
Indian babies,

Chinese babies, Mexican babies,

it doesn't matter
what kind of baby,

they all loathe bitter
and love sweets.

Why?
Because sweet means sugar.

Sugar means calories
and calories means energy.

Bitter foods on the other hand
often contain alkalines, okay.

And those are often found in...

poison.

Prescription drugs,
industrial cleaners,

petroleum products,
and whatever that is.

All bitter, all deadly
if used incorrectly.

But here's the thing.

Some bitter flavors are,
by adults at least,

seen as highly desirable indeed.

Consider your morning Joe.

Did you know caffeine
is actually considered

the gold standard
for bitterness, hmm?

Dark chocolate,
bitter, is an ugly truth.

[ Sniffs ] But lovely.

I'll keep this for later.

And then, of course,
there's bitters,

which despite being
the poster drink

for bitterness, well,
it's bloody well irresistible.

And let's not forget good
old‐fashioned green vegetables,

which are bitter,
but good and good for you.

You see, as we mature,

most of us find that bitterness
brings added dimension

to sweet or salty flavors.

Kind of like a final note
that turns a simple chord...

[ Plays major chord ]

...into something
a little more interesting.

[ Plays major seventh chord ]

This appreciation,
however, is acquired.

So we adults
should probably cut the kids

some slack like Mary Poppins,

who knew full well
that a spoonful of sugar

helps the bitterness go down.

This doesn't mean
that we have to add sugar.

It just means
we need to reach for veggies

that already contain
plenty of it.

Now, carrots contain some sugar.

But, you know, kids
already eat these things.

So getting them
to eat more is no great victory.

Beets contain a considerable
amount of sweetness.

But all that bright red,
it's like a warning light.

Veggies ahead!
Beware!

Nah, we need something
that's sweet,

but healthy and stealthy
at the same time.

And that's why I think we need
to reach for the parsnip.

Now, Flemish weavers escaping
religious persecution in Spain

probably introduced these
strange cousins of parsley

to England and Ireland
in the 1580s

where they served
as a major source of starch

until the faster growing
and more, well,

flavor‐neutral potato
made its Old World debut.

Now, unlike a potato,

parsnips are very, very
distinctive in flavor.

They're nutty but savory,
sweet, a little meaty.

It's, well,
they're just interesting.

Now this particular model,
it's a Javelin,

one of the most common
found in U. S. markets,

though many other versions
can be found in farmers markets

in northern climates.

Now, first, I am going to
make M. J. a breakfast

she cannot refuse,

chock full of calcium
and potassium,

compliments of the parsnip.

[ Chuckles ]

♪

When dealing
with the hardened vege‐phobe,

one must occasionally
resort to subterfuge.

Consider this muffin.

Who would suspect that this
innocent‐looking breakfast bread

could conceal
healthful vegetation?

No one.

That's what makes it
such a potent tool.

Now you could fill this thing up
with carrots or rutabagas,

or celery root for that matter.

But since they're more
on the starchy sweet side,

parsnips are perfect
for baked goods.

Now you're going to need
four medium to large specimens.

And if they are less than
one and a half inches

across the top, odds are good

you'll be able to grate them,
peel and all.

Now in doing so,
I prefer to use a box grater

rather than,
say, a food processor,

because I want the option
of ditching the very inner core

which can be woody
in older models.

Now ultimately,
we're after 10 ounces by weight,

about three cups.

[ Groans ]

[ Exhales sharply ]

Somewhere I've got
some "L" brackets

from the hardware store.

Ah, here they are.

I'll just scoot those
under the board

and place
the grater handle thusly.

There.

♪

Next, 1 ounce, that's 1/4 cup,
of sliced almonds

go into a pie pan
in the middle of the oven,

which you will then set
for 375 degrees.

In about 20 minutes

or by the time
the oven's good and hot,

they will be beautiful, brown,
and delicious.

♪

Ladies and gentlemen, let's meet
the muffin dry team ‐‐

8 1/2 ounces by weight
of all‐purpose flour,

1/2 teaspoon of kosher salt,

1 teaspoon of baking powder,

3/4 teaspoon of baking soda,

and 1/2 teaspoon of nutmeg ‐‐
freshly grated, please.

Now we're going
to take these for a spin

around our friendly neighborhood
food processor.

Sure we could use a sifter.

But this is a lot faster,

and it'll do a better job
of aerating the dry goods,

which will make introducing
the wet team that much easier.

Now you'll probably notice

we're using
both baking powder and soda.

That's because
we're making a quick bread,

and all quick breads
need to contain a balance

of acidic and base ingredients

in order to achieve proper lift.

We can therefore assume

that the wet team will contain
an acidic ingredient.

Speaking of the wet team,

we've got 3/4 cup
of whole milk yogurt.

There's the acidic.

3 ounces, that's a 1/4 cup,
of vegetable oil.

8 ounces of sugar.

Yes, sugar always counts in
baking as a wet ingredient.

And three large eggs.

And just whisk this together
thoroughly.

There.

Now we can work in the secret
ingredient, parsnips.

And just mix until
they are thoroughly moistened.

There.
Now the dry ingredients.

And the goal here is to get
this mixed together

as quickly as possible
with as few strokes as possible.

Why?

Well, overbeating can result
in something called tunneling.

You see, as you mix
longer and longer and longer,

water and wheat protein
come together to form gluten,

that famously elastic
and plastic protein matrix

that makes
yeast‐leavened breads possible.

The problem is,
in a muffin,

pockets of gluten
hold bubbles in,

rather than
allowing them to lift.

Eventually,
these bubbles come together

in strange, snake‐like tunnels,

a sure sign
of an overworked batter.

Do not let this happen to you.

When the batter
just starts to come together,

just walk away.

Walk away,
don't worry about a little bit

of powder left in there,
it'll be okay.

Now go get yourself a disher.

That is a spring‐loaded scoop
in the 2 1/2‐ounce ‐‐

that's about 1/3 cup ‐‐ range.

This should do nicely.

First, we're going
to need a little lubrication.

Even a non‐stick muffin pan
will stick.

So a bit of a spray lube,
and then fill 'er up.

Perfect.

And the almonds go on top,
very nice.

All right,
into the middle of the oven.

Now we are looking for
a finished internal temperature

of 210 degrees.

That should take
about 20 minutes.

Oh, and always remember,
you want to rotate the pan

halfway through the cooking.

♪

When your muffins are finished,

it is important
to get them out of the pan

as soon as possible.

Otherwise, the bottom
crusts can get nastily mushy.

Of course,
they're probably going to stick

at least a little
around the edges.

So I like to run
just a small offset spatula ‐‐

you could use a butter knife ‐‐
around the edges

to make sure
that they are completely free.

Then I place a wire
cooling rack on top

and flip the whole thing over.

With any luck,
they will all come out.

Ah, would you look at that.

♪

So how is my favorite niece
this morning?

Considering my uncle
sent me to bed half‐fed,

I'm lucky to still be alive.

Well, let's get you fed, then.

Look, I've got muffins,
fresh from the oven.

Whoa, they smell great.

I thought for sure they'd be,
you know, turnip pancakes,

or spinach yogurt parfait
or something like that.

[ Chuckles ]
Those are all fine ideas but no.

Just warm, beautiful,
sweet muffins.

May I have one?

Dig in.
Go ahead, kid.

Thanks.

Sure.

Mmm, sweet.

Mom makes muffins like this,

but they're tough and have
these funny holes in them

that look like worms
have been crawling in and out.

What do you call these?

I call them...
Money Muffins.

May I have another one, please?

Sure, take all you want,

but remember, you do have
your chess match this morning.

Oh, that's right.

Could you pack me a little lunch
like a sandwich and some chips?

I'll take care of everything.

You just go get dressed.
Go on, go on.

I'll take care of everything.

Uncle Alt is here.
Go ahead, take this with you.

[ Chuckles ]

You heard it.
She asked for chips by name.

[ Chuckles ]

[ Laughs ]

Whenever I fry chips
of any type,

I use my five‐quart Dutch oven,

and, of course,
a fry thermometer

to keep me honest.

2 quarts of pure peanut oil
go in over high heat

until I bring it to 375 degrees.

Although I usually prepare
this little edible trick

using sweet potatoes,
their potent pigment

would almost certainly
expose my plot.

So I'm going to stick
with the starchy,

yet stealthy parsnip.

Which, because of its relatively
low moisture content,

makes an excellent chip.

Now, since the interior core

of some older parsnips
can be woody,

I'm just going to remove strips
with a vegetable peeler.

Once you've got one parsnip's
worth, move them to the fry oil.

The last thing
you want to do

is crowd this pan.
There.

And I just let these cook for
one to one and a half minutes.

♪

Now when they turn just golden,

you want to evacuate them
from the fat

before they actually
turn brown, okay?

And a spider,

definitely the best tool
for the job.

So just scoop,

and let them drain
for a few seconds,

get the excess oil off,

and then move them
over to a draining rig.

I like a sheet pan/newspaper
cooling rack combo.

Once you have finished
the entire batch,

go ahead and give them
some kosher salt,

and a couple of grinds
of black pepper

if you're so inclined.

♪

Thanks for the ride,
Mrs. Johnson. Bye!

Hi, Uncle Alton.

Hi, M. J.
How was the chess match?

I got first place.

Hey, that's my girl.

That's the way to go.

‐Mmm, how did you like lunch?
‐Great.

Those chip things tasted
a little different, though.

Different, how?

I don't know,
kind of sweet and nutty.

Can you tell Mom
where you got them

so she can buy them for me?

‐Absolutely.
‐Great.

[ Chuckles ]

Oh, and don't think for a moment

that I've forgotten
our little wager.

Just because it appears
you've given up doesn't mean

you don't have to pony up.

I would never
even think of weaseling

out of a sporting obligation.

Why, that would be like breaking
a contract, wouldn't it?

Indeed.

[ Chuckles ]

Hey, congratulations!

Let's step outside for a moment.

Now, you notice
she said sweet, not once,

but twice now, okay?

Parsnips can deliver
an amazing amount of sweetness,

but only if they spend
the winter in the ground.

Why is that?
Well, to find out,

we would need
to find a horticulturist.

And luckily,
I have one right here.

Dr. George Boyhan, tell me,

why will my parsnips be sweeter
after they winter in the ground?

Well, there's a phenomenon,
Alton, called cold sweetening.

There's a lot of vegetables
that have storage organs

like potatoes, carrots,
and parsnips,

that store energy as starch.

And above 50 degrees,

as this starch is converted
into simpler sugars,

it's used in respiration.

Below 50 degrees,

you have an accumulation
of these sugars

as respiration slows down.

And this, from the plant's
perspective, is a good thing,

because the accumulation
of sugar prevents the formation

of ice crystals
and freeze injury.

It acts a lot
like an antifreeze.

Antifreeze.
I like that.

From our perspective,
when you've harvested them

after they've gone
through this period of cold,

they taste sweeter.

Great,
so plant's in the ground,

it stores its energy as starch,

but it converts it
to simple sugars

to do its business.

That business slows down
when it gets cold,

so the sugar builds up.

That sugar, of course,

will move into the cells
and create kind of a syrup

that acts like an antifreeze.

And then we cut into it
and it tastes good.

That's correct.

You eat your vegetables, George?

‐Yes.
‐Good man.

♪

And now for the coup de grâce,

a device of such
delicious cunning

that I almost
feel guilty springing it

on the unsuspecting lass.

Almost.

Now, root vegetables
are known for their ability

to work and play well
with fruits,

especially fruits
in the rose family

such as quinces, apples,
and pears.

Pears are especially potent
when paired with parsnips.

And speaking of,

I always have
an emergency supply.

Ha!

My plan is to make a sauce
like an apple sauce,

nice, sweet, and chunky,
only with no apples.

We're going to use parsnips
and pears instead.

So one pound of parsnips,
that's three to four roots,

which will be peeled.

And we're going to take
a couple of pears.

You could use Bartletts, Bosc,
anything that you really like.

Cut off the ends,
and then peel those as well.

There,
and just split those in half.

And then
I like to get out the seeds

with a little melon baller
or a teaspoon like this.

You waste less meat that way.

There.

Just scoop around
and it comes out pretty easily.

Now these we will cut down
into one‐inch chunks.

Just split it and slice through.
There.

Now all of these hunks
and chunks are going to go

into a large
microwave‐safe container.

And cut the parsnips like that.

Good.

Perfect.

Now for the wet team.

We're going to introduce
1 1/2 cups

of freshly‐squeezed
orange juice.

You know,
squeezing's half the fun.

1/4 teaspoon of ground cardamom.

This will really
confuse the little booger.

3 tablespoons of maple syrup.

And don't try passing off

that fake pancake syrup
business, okay?

I want the real thing.

Grade B amber
would be especially nice.

I'm going to need a pinch
of ground clove,

and I usually just throw
one or two in this little mortar

and pestle and grind it up.

It takes like 10 seconds.

1 teaspoon of the zest
of the aforementioned oranges,

and just a pinch of kosher salt
to help marry the flavors.

Now, place the lid
on your vessel

being careful to leave
one corner open

so steam can get out,

and microwave on high
for 10 minutes.

♪

All right,
our pear and parsnip pairing

has been in the microwave
on high for 10 minutes.

Time to test for doneness.

Now, the chunks
should be tender enough to mash,

but not so gooshy
that they, well, goosh.

And be careful
taking off the lid, too.

There still could be some steam
in there.

Let's give it a squeeze.

Good.

There, now, the microwave
has kind of an uncanny ability

to flatten out the high notes
in the flavors of fruit.

You want to bring that back.

So we're going
to add some acidity.

Now, if this were
just apple sauce,

I'd probably use
apple cider vinegar,

but it's parsnips and pears.

So 1 tablespoon
of lemon juice,

and yes, it really
does need to be fresh squeezed.

Now as far as getting this
to the final consistency,

you can use any technology
you want, to mangle,

mash, or puree.

An old‐school potato mangler

will give you a nice
rustic chunky kind of action.

A hand mixer will smooth things
out a little bit

and then, of course,
an immersion or stick blender

will give you
a relatively smooth puree.

There, now either serve this
warm or cold,

alone, or with...

pork chops.

And?

And, oh, and pear
and [Coughs] parsnip sauce.

Okay, I like fruit.

Mmm!

Those are the best pears
I've ever had.

So...

‐Nutty?
‐Yeah, kind of...

Peppery?
Yeah, sort of like...

Parsley?

Is‐‐ Isn't parsley a vegetable?

No! No, no, no, no.

Parsley is a‐a‐an herb.

Okay, can I have some more?

Absolutely, you can have more.

Here, dig in, and have
all you want, young lady.

Well, it's been a day
and I haven't asked

for one single vegetable.

Ready to pay up?

Well, I'll tell you what, M. J.,
you eat your dinner,

and then we'll deal
with all those finances, okay?

[ Chuckles ]

The moral of the story,
never bet against a parsnip.

Well, I hope we've inspired you

to give this Old World
culinary chameleon

the chance
it so richly deserves.

Not only is its flavor
and nutritional profile

unlike any other tap
root on earth,

its versatility places it high
in the pantheon of...

Well, you know.

Now if you'll excuse me,
I have a little debt to collect.

So, M. J., about this money...

Good evening, officers.

Sir, there's been a report
of underage gambling

going on at this residence.

[ Sighs ] Oh, bother!