IF fatigue is setting in for the same old wintry merry-go-round of leeks, cabbage, parsnips and turnips, you are not alone.

But there is one exciting exception of which I never grow tired. Oddly (to me, anyway) a lot of people I encounter seem slightly wary of it. This strikes me as a very unjust way to treat the gorgeous Jerusalem artichoke.

My friend Rob, who has an impressive vegetable patch at the top of his garden, is a big fan, rightly proud of his Jerusalem artichoke output and generous in offering me handfuls of them in times of plenty. This is not rare: his family can be reluctant enthusiasts.

Perhaps it is not the vegetable itself which is unwanted, but the alleged after-effects. The bottom line here is all about flatulence. The Jerusalem artichoke is perceived as (how can I introduce this delicately?) hanging around long after it has been eaten up. This can get right up some people's noses.

There is a solution: par-boiling the peeled tubers before proceeding. After that, they are as versatile as potato but with a unique sweet smokiness. In the restaurant we use them for creamy dauphinoise gratin, brittle deep-fried crisps, satin-like puree and dense savoury panna cotta. We also stew them fricassee style, finished with crème fraiche and crispy pancetta to reinforce the vegetable's own smoky depths. A simple soup is a perfect way to appreciate the Jerusalem artichoke. My gratin recipe will certainly remove any whiff of lingering doubt.