It’s also possible I grew and ate something else, in which case it has been great knowing all of you.
You may ask how I could do such a thing? How could I grow something and not know what it is AND how could I eat something without knowing what it was?
The answer to that, besides, talent, lies in the highly scientific and organized way I garden; I toss pinches of this and sprinkle bits of that. I stomp and water and hope and forget and wonder. I let plants go to seed and relocate themselves via pappus or epizoochory (the will of the wind or the wool).
So it was without much surprise that when I dug up a plant I thought was valerian, it turned out much different than valerian root, which is sort of stringy and octopus-like. This was one big, honking root. Also, unlike valerian which smells like stinky socks, it smelled nice and spicy.
I’m not from parsnip country. We don’t do parsnips down here, and although I’ve eaten a few here and there over the years, I’m not very familiar with them.
I don’t have a photo of the foliage because I tossed it, but I did an image search and to the best of my recollection, what I grew looked like the photos of parsnip leaves.
So did I grow and eat a parsnip? Please say I et a parsnip.