Pearl Barley Salad with Roasted Roots and Goat's Cheese

October. The clocks have gone back and the kitchen window is dark by five. The carrots at the market on Saturday were the size of my thumb, deep orange, the soil still on them. The parsnips were pale and solid, the first good ones of the season. I bought too many of both, which is always the right amount.

Pearl barley doesn't get the attention it deserves. It's a quietly splendid grain, nutty and substantial, with a chew that holds its own against roasted vegetables and sharp cheese. It cooks in the time it takes to roast the roots, and it soaks up a dressing without turning to paste the way couscous does. This is not a delicate salad. It's a bowl of food for a cold evening, the kind you eat with a fork and a glass of something red, leaning against the kitchen counter because the table hasn't been cleared yet.

The goat's cheese does the work you might expect cream to do, softening and melting slightly against the warm barley, catching on the sticky edges of the roasted parsnips. The mustard dressing is sharp enough to keep everything honest. Walnuts for crunch. Watercress for bite. We're only making dinner.

I wrote it down in the notebook last week. Barley, roots, cheese. Tuesday. Dark by five. That was enough to remember it by.