
Chef Thomas
Baked Onions with Cream and Thyme
Whole onions surrendered to a low oven with cream and thyme until they collapse into something golden, sweet and yielding, the kind of side dish that quietly upstages everything else on the table.
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Parsnips roasted in honey and butter until their edges go sticky and dark, the kind of side dish that quietly steals the whole plate at a Sunday roast.
The first parsnips of the season arrive at the market sometime in November, pale and heavy and smelling of cold earth. They look like nothing much. That's the trick of them. A parsnip is the most unassuming vegetable in the box, and then you put it in a hot oven with some honey and butter and it turns into something you can't stop eating. The edges go dark and sticky. The centres soften to a sweetness that doesn't need explaining. The kitchen fills with the smell of caramel and roasted earth, and if that's not the smell of a Sunday in winter, I don't know what is.
I make these almost every week from the first frost until March, and I've never once measured the honey. A good drizzle. Enough that the parsnips catch and lacquer but don't drown. The butter goes in with it, melting into the honey on the hot tin and turning everything glossy. A few sprigs of thyme, because thyme and parsnips understand each other in the way old friends do.
This is the sort of side dish that people eat straight from the roasting tin while pretending to help with the washing up. I wrote it down in the notebook years ago, and the note still says the same thing: parsnips, honey, butter, Sunday. It's enough.
A recipe is a conversation, not a contract. If your parsnips are small, leave them in halves. If they're large, cut them smaller. If you've no thyme, rosemary will do nicely. The point is a hot oven, good parsnips, and the patience to let the honey do its work.
Quantity
6-8 medium
peeled and quartered lengthways
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
30g
Quantity
a few sprigs
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to taste
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| parsnipspeeled and quartered lengthways | 6-8 medium |
| olive oil | 2 tablespoons |
| runny honey | 2 tablespoons |
| unsalted butter | 30g |
| fresh thyme | a few sprigs |
| fine sea salt | to taste |
| black pepper | to taste |
Get the oven properly hot. 200C/180C fan. Nothing less. Peel the parsnips and quarter them lengthways, cutting out the woody core from the thicker ones if it looks fibrous and pale. The younger, slimmer parsnips won't need this. You want pieces that are roughly the same size so they cook at the same pace. If some are fatter than others, halve those again. Don't be too neat about it.
Spread the parsnips on a large roasting tin in a single layer. They need space. Crowded parsnips steam rather than roast, and steamed parsnips are nobody's idea of a good time. Drizzle with the olive oil, season generously with salt and pepper, and toss with your hands until every piece is slicked and glistening. Scatter the thyme sprigs amongst them. Put the tin in the oven.
Leave them alone for twenty minutes. Resist the urge to open the oven and fiddle. When you do check, they should be starting to colour at the edges, going from pale cream to gold, the tips beginning to crisp. Turn them over. Some will stick to the tin. That's fine. The sticky bits are the best bits.
Melt the butter and stir the honey into it. It doesn't need to be precise, just loosely combined. Drizzle this over the parsnips and toss them through so they're coated. The honey will start to catch almost immediately, so keep the heat where it is and put the tin back. Another fifteen to twenty minutes. You're looking for deep amber edges, sticky and slightly charred in places, with the honey lacquered across the surface. The kitchen will smell sweet, earthy, and faintly of caramel. Trust your nose. It knows before the timer does.
Bring the tin to the table. No need to transfer them to a serving dish. They look best in the tin they were cooked in, glossy and golden and slightly chaotic. Season with a final pinch of salt. The thyme leaves will have gone crisp and fragrant. Serve alongside whatever else the oven has been doing this afternoon.
1 serving (about 200g)
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