Living, Dying and Food

     Friday evening last my wife's mother died.  She was the undisputed matriarch of her family.  A quiet and unassuming woman who was gracious and understated.  It was nearly 40 years ago that I first met her and I recall sitting around the dining room table of her home with the rest of the family for a Sunday dinner.  She was busy in the kitchen preparing the meal, and when it arrived at the table I was horrified to discover that in addition to the anticipated meat and potatoes she also served two vegetables.  At home I was loath to eat even one and now I had to be polite and fill my plate with a double dose of the dreaded side dishes.

     It was interesting to me that even though our homes were only about 25 miles apart the cultural differences were significant.  For the first time I was introduced to a Scotch-Irish cuisine, having grown up in a decidedly Pennsylvania German environment.  Things like scrapple and shoo fly pie were not a part of the diet there as they were in my home.  So for me, while the meals eaten with my in-laws were healthy and wholesome, they were different.

     So now as we prepare to celebrate a life well lived we will also gather together for a communal meal following in the church hall.  I can't help but wonder if I will see any funeral pie on the dessert table.  That, too, is a Pennsylvania "Dutch" tradition.  Funeral pie, or Rosina pie as it is sometimes called, is still commonly prepared and served at such events.  Raisins are the main element (Rosina is German for raisin), and unlike the seasonal fruits of apples, peaches and blueberries, is available year round as are the other ingredients: brown sugar, cornstarch, butter, cinnamon, sugar, flour and cider vinegar.  It can be made a day or two in advance and keeps well without refrigeration.  And it is very, very sweet.  Some say cloyingly so.  And that is done with the intention of helping the mourners forget the pain of their grief, if for only a moment.

     I don't expect to see any funeral pie on Friday.  But then again I hope not to see two vegetables either.

Artichoke International

     People around the world have been enjoying artichokes for centuries.  Consider the following:

     "Tiny artichokes simmered in white wine, rosemary, thyme and other aromatics, a la provencale; artichoke slices bathed in garlicky lemon oil and grill-seared, Barcelona style; tender hearts stewed with lamb and sweet spices in a Moroccan tagine; artichokes plumped with dill-scented rice, Turkish fashion; wedges braised with leeks and mint, a la grecque; and whole flattened miniatures, their flower-like forms fried leafy brown and dusted with coarse salt, alla guidia (Italian Jewish style)."

     In the United States California supplies markets year-round, but the peak season for artichokes is March through May with a secondary harvest in October.  They are graded by size and sold in quantity counts of 18, 24, 30, 36, 48, 60 & 72 to the case.

     Want to learn more?  Then plan to attend the Chefs' Summit in Castroville, CA the artichoke capital of the world.  It's sponsored by the California Artichoke Advisory Board.

In Season

     According to the April edition of Every Day Magazine, artichokes are now in season.  It is an under appreciated vegetable.  Most people don't know what to do with them.  But with some creativity they can become a welcome addition to your spring menu.  Shaved thin, they can be tossed with Parmesan cheese, lemon juice and olive oil for a simple and quick salad, quartered they can dress up a pizza, or steamed and added to pasta, garlic and parsley for a nutritious side dish.

     And here's a surprise...Artichokes ranked 7th overall in a USDA study measuring levels of cancer-fighting antioxidants in more than 100 of the most commonly eaten foods.  And I bet you didn't know that way back in 1948 Marilyn Monroe was crowned Artichoke Queen of Castroville, California, the self-proclaimed Artichoke Capital of the World.

Seasonal Vernacular

     It snowed here yesterday.  But it wasn't just any snow.  It was the onion snow.  That's a colloquial expression used by locals in certain parts of Pennsylvania to describe the final snowfall of the season that typically occurs after the spring onions have been planted.

     The onion snow always falls after Kunigund Day, March 3, when the frost will go no deeper into the ground and after St. Patrick's Day, March 17, when peas and onions are supposed to be planted, according to the editorial staff of the York Daily Record in York, PA.

     My question is, how do you know it is really the last snow of the season?

Eating the Rainbow

     Nutritionists have long advised that we should "eat the rainbow' of colors to insure a healthy diet.   But perhaps the most under-consumed color is purple.  Sadly, there are few fruits or vegetables that qualify.  That difficulty has been overcome, however, with the development of purple asparagus.  Yes, purple.

     The cultivar was developed in Italy and although not often found in the U.S., is common throughout Europe.  Like other kinds of asparagus the purple variety is a spring vegetable that is less bitter and more sweet than its green counterpart.  In appearance the stalks are of a violet/lilac hue and green tinged beneath the skin with a white interior.

     
     Purple asparagus can be eaten raw, either as an appetizer or served in a salad.  It does not contain the customary fibrous tissue that is found in other asparagus spears; the tips are fleshy and sweet.  The best way to cook purple asparagus is to simmer briefly in salted water.  The brachs will turn a lovely shade of lavender and the spears a deep, hearty spruce green.  Served in that manner the only accompaniment is perhaps a splash of olive oil, a squeeze of lemon and a pinch of sea salt.  The sweetness will shine through with the added benefit of their antioxidant qualities and high levels of Vitamin C.

The Other Asparagus

     "Europeans celebrate Spring with a quasi-religious fervor inspired by white asparagus--cut at the crack of dawn each day before any tips have a chance to emerge from the soil and take colour," so says Elizabeth Schneider, author of The Essential Reference: Vegetables from Amaranth to Zucchini.  According to the statistics coming out of the 9th International Asparagus Symposium, asparagus is grown in 61 countries worldwide and of that number 55% of the crop is the white variety.  Simply described by Brian Bensom, president of the California Asparagus Seed & Transplant organization, white asparagus is "harvested from plants whose spears have not seen the light of day."  The plants grow without the benefit of sunlight so that the green chlorophyll pigments don't have the opportunity to form.

     And while Europe reveres the white spears, they are virtually unknown in the United States.  And gourmands who go to great lengths to import European white asparagus from places like Germany, France and Holland, are woeful regarding the American attempt to grow the harbinger of Spring which tastes very little like the green counterpart.  Chef Hans Rockenwagner serves white asparagus in his restaurants in Santa Monica and Beverly Hills when he can get them.  "They are incredibly expensive and worth every penny, provided they are the real thing," he commented recently.

     In addition to the pre-dawn harvest, the stalks must be quickly cooled down to 34F and kept there until cooked.  And therein lies the major problem for U.S. markets, and the difference between the European and American versions.  White asparagus is only available in peak growing season, from March to May, and then only purchased from stores where it can be kept chilled.  There should be no evidence of shrinking or wrinkling and no fibrous ends protruding at the base.  The spears should be pearly in appearance, shiny and free of ridges.  Most importantly, they must be firm and juicy.  the tips should be totally closed and all white except for perhaps a touch of pink or lilac at the tip.  And bigger is definitely better. The bigger spears are sweeter, juicier and smoother textured.

     Tomorrow, yet another kind of asparagus to consider.

A Rare Treat

     I cooked something completely new and different last night.  Never before had I used cipollini onions in a meal preparation.  But walking through a local mega mart I saw some in a bin and decided to give them a try.  I wasn't even sure how to prepare them or how they would taste.  But I was feeling very adventuresome and so I purchased about a dozen of the petite saucer shaped bulbs and came home to do some investigating, or culinary research as it were.

     Turns out that the name means literally "little onion" in Italian and they are associated primarily with that cuisine.  Once a rare treat only served in the finest restaurants they are now becoming more popular and well known around the world.  Cipollini onions range in size from 1-3" in diameter and are flat on each end with a pale yellow translucent flesh and gold colored papery skin.  They are firm and semi-sweet due to a higher sugar content than the common yellow cooking onion.

     They are quite versatile in the kitchen and while they can be eaten fresh their sweetness is more pronounced when cooked either by frying, steaming, baking, sauteing, braising, or as I decided to do, roasting them in the oven.  Traditionally they are served whole as a main ingredient, not as just a spice or flavoring.

     I did discover in my research that even though they are small they can have a thin and tough skin.  Fortunately the recipe I used provided a solution to that problem.  So I soaked them in a small bowl of hot water for 5 minutes as recommended and the skin was easier to remove.  After another brief immersion in a combination of olive oil, balsamic vinegar and honey they went into a pan and then into the oven for 20 minutes and came out softened and sweetly caramelized.  A rare treat indeed!