A-Z of Vegetables: Carrot

As a toddler, in a time of micro-chopped Birds Eye vegetables, one rose above the others. From amid the pedestrian yellows and greens of snot were sunshine-orange shards of vegetable, to become known as… CARROTS.

Sometimes I have existential crises, wondering if my favourite colour is orange because I love carrots or my favourite vegetables are carrots because I love orange. Where will the vicious circle end? Either way, carrots are singularly uplifting vegetables: the torch of the vegetable kingdom, batons of brightness which once did not exist because they were (allegedly) cultivated to be orange in the sixteenth century – Probably because white carrots, gnarled and dirty like a dead witch’s finger, were getting depressing. I guess it’s not just photographs that were black-and-white in the olden days.

No matter the length of time you cook them, say in a three-hour-long hotpot, they stay bright as nuclear rods being lifted from decontamination liquid. (Yes, I really think of hotpots as decontamination.) Carrots are so bright they could light your way down a dark alleyway, and hard enough to be used as a bludgeoning instrument against muggers too. Does that not make them the perfect vegetable? It might interest you to know that I come from a long line of carrot-haters on my dad’s side, which is probably the greatest evidence that I’m adopted.

Still not convinced by the superiority of carrots? How about this: Carrot cake, maple-roasted carrots, carrot mash, carrot and ginger soup, carroty coleslaw, carrot ribbons, pickled carrots, carrot and orange smoothies, carrot and poppyseed salad, steamed rounds of carrot à la Birds Eye, Jack Monroe’s carrot bircher muesli – and after all, what are you seriously planning on shoving in your hummus? I think it’s fair to say that carrots are simply the best vegetable, and that has absolutely nothing to do with any obsession on my part. 

Carroty couscous with pomegranate and mint, serves 1-2 packed lunches

• Cook 80g wholegrain couscous according to your packet instructions. This usually involves soaking in twice the volume of boiling water for 5-10 minutes.
• In the meantime, grate 160g-worth of carrots, drain and rinse the contents of one 400g tin chickpeas, de-seed 1 pomegranate and wash at least 65g fresh mint and no I’m not joking. Pomegranates are rarely in season at the same time as mint so the mint you get is unlikely to be very minty, so you must use lots. Especially if you like mint, in which case you could easily boost the mint to 100g.
• When the couscous is ready, stir through 1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil and 1 tbsp balsamic vinegar, before adding the carrots, chickpeas and half the pomegranate seeds. Shred the mint into the couscous (I finely chop the stalks with kitchen scissors and use those too) and mix all together. Taste. You might need to add more pomegranate and more mint, and toasted sunflower seeds.

Notes: It’s rare that I condemn substitutions in any recipes, but variations on these ingredients are just not as delicious, and I think it’s a crying shame to do so. However, this does mean identifying the overlap between pomegranate season (November-January) and mint season (April to July). Nevertheless, you can substitute the pomegranate with dried cranberries, the fresh mint with dried mint or the contents of peppermint teabags (except use 1-2tbsp only) and the balsamic vinegar with lemon juice. It won’t be as good, but at least you’ll be eating carrots. Never substitute wholegrain couscous for ordinary.