Thursday, 29 December 2016

Parsnips and me

Farewell  good root vegetable



When I was young I despised the flavour of  parsnips which our Mum included in her famous Saturday lunch-time winter stews, together with turnips, carrots, onions, spuds, and  a bit of stew-beef  or lamb meat.

As I grew older I "adored" the flavour of the parsnips which Mum would par-boil, and then roast (with spuds) alongside Sunday's Roast Beef,

(Do understand young friends that in the olden days the beef we used for roasting included super veins of fat;  fat with which the aforementioned potatoes and parsnips could be basted. 

Lament with me that modern day beef  [as sold in those dens of iniquity known as supermarkets]  has been denuded of the slightest traces of fat).  

Forgive my digression.  I was writing about the joy of roasted parsnips, and or parsnips in general,

A  few years ago when I became concerned at the condition of the skin on my hands, I took myself to a local  Urgent Care Clinic.

The Physician-on-Duty, with the help of Dr. Google, came to an informed guess that, sad as it is, parsnips were the  trigger for that outbreak of dermatitis.

Which I had forgotten until yesterday.  

I peeled four parsnips.

My hands instantly became red, inflamed, and tingly.

Of course I washed, and washed, and washed them. 

That relieved some of the symptoms, but sixteen hours later the tingling remains.

"Gosh darn it Michael" (as my friend Barbara H would say), "do remember to wear kitchen gloves the next time you peel parsnips"















P.S.   I cooked and ate the peeled parsnips.  No signs of inner inflammation except for in my brain and heart as I read the news.

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