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Author: Kenji Lopez-Alt (41 Articles)

J. Kenji Lopez-Alt is a contributing editor for Cooks Illustrated Magazine, runs a private chef business, KA Cuisine, and writes a weekly column on burgers and food science for SeriousEats.com. He is also an occasional co-host of America's Test Kitchen . Kenji holds a BS from MIT and lives with his wife in Harlem.

From the Archives
Posted by J. Kenji Lopez-Alt
Stories about Jerusalem Artichokes invariably begin with the same hackneyed introduction: some form of “it’s neither an artichoke, nor is it from Jerusalem, but boy is it tasty!” That being said, I’m afraid that now this story does too. But I do find it invigorating that Jerusalem Artichokes have come far enough from the tables of fancy restaurants and into the common cooks’ vernacular to merit having their own cliché. Congratulations, little guys!

Originally cultivated by the native americans, the Jerusalem artichoke (which I will refer to from now on with it’s more modern name, the sunchoke) is a tuber from a variety of sunflower. It gets its geographically-challenged epithet from the bastardization of the italian word for sunflower, girasol. It’s got a mildly nutty flavor and a crisp texture somewhat like jicama that’s excellent simply steamed or sauteed in butter. While it’s completely edible raw, many people find it difficult to digest, prompting English planter John Goodyer to quip in 1621, “which way soever they be dressed and eaten, they stir and cause a filthy loathsome stinking wind within the body.” Hardly glowing praise.

However eloquent Mr. Goodyer was, I would venture to guess that he never tried a brown butter sunchoke soup, or he wouldn’t have been so quick to speak. It’s as simple as can be. Start with a pound or two of sunchokes. There’s no need to peel the thin skins, but definitely give them a good scrub. Slice them all pretty thin, then melt about half a stick of butter in a heavy-bottomed soup pot over high heat. It’ll start by melting, then move on to fizzling, then shift into wildly bubbling (start stirring and shaking the pot a lot at this stage, or the butter will start spitting at you. It can sense fear, so get right in there), and finally settle into lightly smoking and gradually getting darker.

You want to add your sunchokes to the pot right when the butter turns brown, but before it starts turning black. This is the brown butter stage, and in case you’re blind, it also conveniently provides a wonderful olfactory cue by starting to smell really good. It’s a small window of time between perfect and burnt, so be ready with the sunchokes. Cook them in the pot, stirring every once in a while, until they are nice and brown all over. Add a thin sliced onion, and cook a little more until it’s soft, then top the whole thing off with water or stock, bring it to a simmer, and let it cook until you can poke a fork or a skewer in there and find no resistance in the ‘chokes.

Homestretch here. Take your soup and puree it in the blender in batches, adding salt, pepper, and lemon juice to taste, and more stock or water if it needs thinning out. You can now eat it as-is, or if you want to bulk it up like I did, throw in a handful of chopped kale and let it simmer for 15 minutes or so until the kale is tender.

Want to go that extra mile and weed out the vegetarians in your dinner party? Add a couple spoonfuls of crisped up bacon, pancetta, or in this case, homemade lardo, and drizzle with the rendered fat, of course.

Jerusayum!