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The Flat and the Curly

Unlike the enduring struggle of women's hairstyles, where the curly wish to be straight and the straight yearn for curls, the game of parsley has a clear winner: everyone praises the flat-leaf.  The reason for this victory has puzzled me for quite some time an I am beginning to think that I have been overlooking the obvious, which is that, on North American tables, parsley has suffered under such severe neglect — surviving primarily as an unwanted, usually uneaten and frequently unwashed plate garnish — for so long that many cooks are quite reluctant to consider it an actual ingredient suitable for cooking.

In order for cooks to feel good about integrating parsley into the body of their cuisine, it became important to find a reason to do so that could elbow its way past the notion of "sprig of parsley as garnish" that had come to infest the expectations of cooks and diners alike.  Surely, the line of reasoning goes, those cuisines that have shamelessly continued to use parsley as an ingredient must have a reason for doing so; we look to the Italians, and lo and behold, a different type of parsley is being used.  That, therefore, must be the difference.  Italian parsley, which is flat-leafed and much-used within the Italian culinary tradition, must therefore be superior to its curly cousin (and never mind the fact that Italian cooks are simply working with what grows locally, in true regional fashion).  No, it must be that this fancy, imported, flat-leafed variety has superior taste and texture, and the Italians have been keeping this little secret to themselves.

While everyone is much agreed that French tarragon (which is only propagated by root) is superior in every culinary way to the less fragrant, more grassy Russian tarragon (which produces seeds), those who argue flat-leafed parsley's supremacy are often arguing in diametric opposition to their fellow would-be experts.  Flat-leafed parsley, the gourmets and gourmands hold forth, has a more delicate flavour (and, presumably is to be preferred by the more educated palate).  That is, except for those other gourmets and gourmands, who declaim it as stronger, edgier, and more pungent (and, perhaps, more worthy as an actual ingredient, or perhaps simply appealing to those who require adjectives like "extreme" in their food's advertising).  Like those who extol the flavour of kosher salt over standard iodized table salt, the experts are not only divided in their opinions, but they are arguing for their preferred product in direct contradiction of their fellows.

The herb that keeps on giving, parsley is useful culinarily for its leaves (whatever their shape), its seeds, and, for certain varieties ("turnip-rooted" parsley), its root.  Medicinally, Greek lore suggests that it soothes the stomach and some texts even claim that it can draw out poison, although I would not want to test that theory personally.  It is said to cleanse the breath, to mitigate body odor caused by excessive use of garlic and other pungent foods and spices, and to have an overall calming effect.  Variety Petroselinum neapolitanum (flat-leafed) and variety Petroselinum crispum (curly) are both grown for their leaves, and variety tuberosum is grown for its root.

Parsley generally still suffers from "vanilla syndrome."  It has somehow managed to become ubiquitous, while being used (or at least consumed) in such tiny quantities that people often don't have a clear association with its flavour.  It has become shunned as the nadir of culinary laziness — the use of the common, ordinary, or prevalent to become a metaphor for uninteresting, unadventurous, uninspired.  The very charms that make it so accessible, acting as a complement or background to other, fancier flavours , have served to make it the beige of the herb garden:  it goes with anything, but no one gets impassioned or enthusiastic about it.

It is odd that flat-leafed parsley should become the more treasured, since it bears a greater resemblance to a noxious weed, Anthriscus cynapium, or Fool's parsley — although hardly similar enough to spawn accidental ingestion, since the latter smells foul when bruised or cut.  It is also to be noted that in Britain, the curly-leafed variety is held in  much higher esteem than its flat-leafed cousin, considered to be both more elegant and superior, despite being a less hardy garden plant.  Perhaps curly parsley's popularity in Britain, whose culinary reputation has suffered greatly in the last century, contributes to its snubbing on this side of the Atlantic, which is hardly fair to either the great traditions of British country cookery and parsley alike.

It is not only that we seem to need a fancy imported version of parsley in order for people to feel that it is a legitimate ingredient, but that users must then wax poetic about the superiority of their chosen variety.  This is a peculiar self-deception, fostered in the silliest forms of snobbery and ironic in its elevation of what was once the most common varietal over a type that was once honoured specifically for its novel shape and general appearance.

Perhaps it was the attractiveness of the curled leaf of var. crispum that led to its downfall.  In sprig form, it became something that was added to a plate to create a pretty colour balance, instead of as an edible component of the dish.  As a chopped garnish, it was used so sparingly that people ceased to be able to distinguishes the actual flavour or determine any advantage to it other than visual appeal.  As is eventually the case with all pretty, useless things, it became something we were accustomed to, indifferent to, and unappreciative.

So, which parsley should you use?  It depends entirely on your intended usage.  If you are distilling medicines, or rendering the parsley for its chemical properties, you should undoubtedly select based on whether you are seeking for myristicin (curly is best) or apiole (flat-leafed).  Most of us, however, use parsley for primarily culinary — and perhaps a little breath-freshening applications.

I should make it clear that I am in no way scorning flat-leafed parsley, and from time to time I do buy it.  There are certain dishes where I like the look of it, and that is as good a reason as any to choose one over the other.  However, like most of my vegetable and herb purchases, I tend to make my decision based on whatever seems freshest and most reasonably-priced at the market.  There are plenty of other criteria for selection - relative cost, organic or not, point of origin (buying local), assuming there are options available, and these come into play if all available parsley looks similarly good.  If you really need some parsley, though, you may just need to take whatever you can find, although you could always reconsider what you were planning to make.  Better still, grow a garden and plant both, and you will always have what you need close at hand.  Next year, I'm growing parsley.

October 2006

Family: Umbelliferae.  Genus: Petroselinum.  Other herbs in the same family:  dill, chervil, celery, cumin, caraway, coriander, fennel, anise, ajwain.