Whole Artichokes

I’m smitten with artichokes. I think they’re so beautiful, piled high in a bowl in the center of the kitchen table. Our modern artichokes, the large flower bud of a species of thistle, appear to have originated from the wild cardoon which is native to the mediterranean. Based on what I've read, the timeframe of the cultivation and dispersal of the artichoke, often attributed to Arab influences, appears to be a source of conflict. In classical Greece they ate at least 3 types of thistles, according to one source pickled in honey and vinegar and sprinkled with cumin, which sounds to me like an extraordinarily good idea. The artichoke consists of 2 edible parts, the base and the fleshy parts of the bracts, the protective leaves. The choke, the beardy part in the middle, is made up of flowerets and is not edible. I found this wonderful article in Saveur on different types of artichokes, which just shows you the range from country to country.

The first time I tried to make artichokes by myself was in college. I saw them at the Burlington Co-Op as I was stocking up on my college staples of rice pilaf and tortilla chips. I bought a few and googled “how to make artichokes” as soon as I got home. I was so confused because all the recipes I found involved removing almost all the leaves. We didn’t make artichokes very often growing up, no one in the family really enjoyed them except me, but I do have a few distinct memories of sitting around a bowl of them, dipping each leaf in a garlicky oily bath, and scrapping it in between my front teeth before discarding the tough bits, slowly getting to the buttery base. My point here is that, if you threw out all the leaves, where did the wonderful snack-tivity part come in? I called my mom, she gave me the recipe and dinner was saved, but this frustration for me has continued into my 30s. I understand completely cleaning an artichoke if you’re serving it with something else. You can’t exactly dig into a bowl of risotto with your hands to pull out the artichoke leaves. Even for me that’s probably pushing it. But there IS a place for eating an artichoke whole, especially on a spring evening with your family as you finish up dinner. In fact, the fiddly practice of eating an artichoke leaf by leaf has given rise to the Italian phrase “la politica del carciofo”, meaning a policy of dealing with opponents one by one.

Here is the simple and easy way my mom cooks a whole artichoke, for those of you who, like me, love eating with your hands. 

SERVING DETAILS

4 Servings

INGREDIENTS

  • 4-6 artichokes or 12 baby artichokes (if you can find them)
  • 1 garlic clove, finely sliced
  • 2 lemons cut in half
  • ½ cup of chopped parsley
  • Olive oil, salt & pepper

METHOD

  1. Pull off the very outer layer of leaves of the artichoke and rub all over with lemon.
  2. Using a sharp knife cut about ½ an inch off the top of each artichoke (about a quarter if you are using baby artichokes) and rub with lemon.
  3. For larger artichokes with a choke: this is the beardy inedible part on the inside, often accompanied by spiky, tough purple leaves. The more mature artichokes have it. You can remove one of two ways. You can cut the artichoke in half before you cook it, and scoop it out with a sharp-sided spoon (pulling the spiky inner purple leaves with it) or you can just steam it whole, and scrape that part out as you get to it while eating. I guess it really depends who you’re eating with. Either way, it’s not edible, or pleasant, so keep an eye out for it.  
  4. Using a paring knife, trim around the base of the artichoke and cut the bottom flat so it will stay upright in the pan. If the artichokes have stem, cut it off, trim the base and peel away the outer layer. You can throw this into the pan with the artichokes. Rub again all over with lemon and season with salt, allowing the salt to fall in between the leaves.
  5. Add about 1 and ½ inches of water to a medium pot, 1 tablespoon of olive oil, the garlic and a pinch of salt and pepper. Bring to a simmer and add the artichokes face down into the pot. Cover and simmer for about 15 minutes.
  6. Flip the artichokes so that they are now faceup, un-cover the pot and simmer until the liquid is reduced to a sauce-like consistency. Drizzle the artichokes with another 2 tablespoons of olive oil and continue to cook for another 2 minutes.
  7. Add artichokes and liquid, for dipping, to a big serving bowl and top with a few good turns of cracked black pepper and the parsley.
  8. To eat: leaf by leaf, dip in the oil and scrape off the soft light green bit with your front teeth, discarding the inedible part after. Make your way down to the base, discarding the choke if there is one and thorny inner purple leaves. The base tastes like butter and herbs and is, arguably the best part.