An Ode to Asparagus
We are at the peak of spring time here in the UK, which means, she says giddily, ASPARAGUS! Please excuse this short interruption from your regularly scheduled programming while I wax poetic about this weird lanky piece of dirt candy.
Asparagus is the young shoot of Asparagus Officinalis, from the lily family. I think they look like little alien rocket ships, poking one at a time through the dirt come late April. They are hard to grow, harvest and transport without a huge compromise to their flavor. For the first two years after sowing, a bed of asparagus is unproductive. It will then produce for the next couple of seasons before falling inactive again, requiring a re-sowing and inactive period, leaving the farmer with a great deal of inactive land at any given time. They also require hand-harvesting. When they are harvested early (at this time in the season) they are significantly sweeter than more mature shoots. Not just that, but once cut from the ground they consume their sugars faster than most other vegetables, losing their sweetness within days, sometimes hours. All this (plus more) means that these little veggies deserve a little respect, as do the farmers that grow them. So eat them right now, while they are in season, and eat them from a local source to really understand them.
Love of the asparagus is rooted so far back we can’t trace it. We know that they were prized by the ancient greeks and romans. And while they were largely ignored in England until the 1500’s, they caught on quickly and are now cultishly loved. Sparrow Grass, as it was known in the 17th century, grows well in the marshy areas of GB. In the oldest surviving cookbook De Re Coquinaria, there is already mention of cooking with Asparagus. One of the recipes, a custard of Asparagus, reminds me that asparagus and eggs are the two best friends that anyone can have (think hollandaise, sauce gribiche, etc..)
Silvia steams asparagus by standing them straight up in a pot of boiling water with about 3 inches of salted water, covering for a few quick minutes until just done but still firm. She lays them on a plate and splashes on a little good olive oil, a squeeze of lemon, sea salt and tops with a couple of poached eggs. I still make this all the time, especially for spring-time weekend lunches or dinner, paired with toasted bread slathered in with olive oil or, in the case of the photo below, melted slices of Lardo di Colonnata I found at the farmers market this weekend.
Happy asparagus season everyone.
