Asparagus

Now that you can buy all kinds of produce year round in the supermarket, you can make any recipe you come across, anytime. This is really great for experimenters or those who are interested in learning how to increase their repertoire of cooking expertise. Still, there is something about the change of seasons and beginning with a new bunch of foods not used or seen in awhile that strongly appeals to me and, I’m guessing, most people. There is no dearth of articles on food that begin with “Spring is here, let’s make asparagus”, or “Strawberry season inspires dessert”. In autumn, we re-fire our ovens and respond to the call of winter squashes, baked with maple syrup and apples in every imaginable guise. I like it that way.

Early spring brings the first asparagus as surely as the first robin. Asparagus, a member of the lily family, is a strange food with an ancient history. It appeared on the menus of the ancient Romans as a delicacy and seems to grow almost anywhere. It does well in sandy, poor soil which probably added to its cosmopolitan reputation. It was revered by the South American Indian tribes as a phallic symbol supposedly increasing virility. It’s been cultivated for over two thousand years. On the other hand, wild asparagus is not very different from cultivated. My early memories include my mother and me hunting for asparagus in the spring, out where Southdale is now. I know I am dating myself, but that really was undeveloped and we who lived in St. Louis Park thought it was “way out of town”. Later, my mother planted it in her garden and was very proud of her wonderful asparagus, often remarking how one must let the asparagus go to seed every year if you wanted a good crop the next year.

Choose spears that are firm and uniform in size. Although many people believe that thin is better than thick, it isn’t true, just be sure they are uniform. The tips should be closed and the stalks crisp without wrinkles. Forget about breaking them at the natural break and cut the ends off all the same and all at once. I don’t bother standing them up to cook, as many cookbooks suggest. Just lay them in a wide, shallow skillet and cover with salted water. Boil briskly, uncovered, for 12 minutes (more or less, depending on the size of the stalks). Test by piercing with the sharp point of a paring knife; knife should enter easily, but asparagus should not be mushy. Serve with a classic Hollandaise or just butter and lemon. Since asparagus does not keep well, it is a good idea to cook it as soon as possible. If you can’t use it immediately, cooked asparagus is delicious served cold with mayonnaise or in a salad.

A current way to prepare all vegetables is to roast them and asparagus takes to roasting very well. The intense, dry heat of the oven concentrates and deepens the flavor. To roast, prepare one and one-half pounds of asparagus as above (peeling outer stalks if tough). On a rimmed baking sheet, toss asparagus with two teaspoons of olive oil and salt and pepper to taste. I use coarse salt and freshly ground pepper. Roast about 10 minutes.

A lovely way to embellish the roasted asparagus is with a spring-green sauce. Serve this at a lovely early spring dinner as the first course.


Green Sauce

2 cups loosely packed fresh Italian parsley leaves One-fourth teaspoon pepper
2 cups loosely packed fresh basil leaves Pinch of salt
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice Two-thirds cup olive oil
1 tablespoon anchovy paste
2 tablespoons drained capers 2 pounds asparagus, trimmed
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard and roasted with 2 tablespoons
1 garlic clove olive oil

Combine first 9 ingredients in processor. Blend until smooth. With machine running, gradually add two-thirds cup olive oil through feed tube. Sauce can be prepared 2 days ahead. Cover and refrigerate. Bring to room temperature before serving. Divide asparagus among 8 plates. Spoon sauce over and serve. 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard