It doesn't take a Sherlock to deduce the merits of burdock
The other day I saw burdock roots in the produce section of our local food co-op, and a less seductive food you will not find. A tangle of long, skinny, hairy things, dull brown in color, they did not exactly speak to me. But a remark by my Japanese American neighbor Mia did: "When the temperatures are cold, I crave gobo," she said.
Gobo, pronounced "goBO," is the word for burdock in Japan, where it is prized as a winter tonic. Its devotees claim many health benefits for it as well: that it's unusually high in antioxidants and minerals, that it's a diuretic (in case you need that), that it cleanses the blood of toxins, and that it cures skin ailments - unless, of course, you're one of those people who get a rash from touching it.
I once lived on a property in Vermont that was infested with burdock, and in fact it can grow anywhere in the United States, given a high-nitrogen soil. As a plant it is quite magnificent, growing up to four feet tall, with huge, wavy-edged leaves and clusters of bright purple, thistle-like flowers. These are followed by burrs that hitch a ride on the fur of your pets, and on you - especially if you wear a lot of wool sweaters, wool mittens and wool hats, and in cold places like Vermont you do.
At the time, my 3-year-old son and I collected the round burr clusters and formed a huge prickly ball out of them - a little scary but impressive. Meanwhile, local macrobiotic cooks were searching for burdock in every compost or manure pile, where the long roots could be pulled up easily, the better to make soups, stir-fries and burdock tea. I'm told that Italians are also big fans, and the English favor a soda pop called Dandelion and Burdock.
I decided to give burdock a serious try in the kitchen. After all, plants with deep taproots are good at mining the soil for minerals, and now's the time to fortify oneself, as winter tightens its grip. And who can scoff at any vegetable rich in fiber?
So I peeled the roots and cut them into thin matchsticks to make kinpira gobo, a dish that starts with sauteing burdock along with carrots in oil (I used sesame oil), then braising them in a little soy sauce and mirin (a slightly sweet Japanese wine). I substituted honey for the sugar that the recipe also called for. The result was a dark, richly flavored, chewy concoction that one taster called "divine." My husband's review was less positive: "Rating your Christmas cookies as 100, this is a 2." I decided to eliminate any sweetness if I made it again. The honey had been overpowering.
Meanwhile I tried shredding the roots with a vegetable peeler, simmering them in water for 15 minutes to make them very tender, and then sauteing them in butter until they were a bit crisp. With just a little salt and pepper for seasoning, they were so delicious that I guiltily shared them with no one. Had my blood been purified? Was I any less likely to come down with the flu, or cancer? Who knows? But maybe I'm just a little better armed against January, February and March.
• Damrosch is the author of "The Four Season Farm Gardener's Cookbook"; her websites is www.fourseasonfarm.com.
Burdock before and after: Burdock roots and kinpira gobo (burdock, Japanese style), in the author's kitchen.
Photo by: Barbara Damrosch
Copyright: Handout
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