ARTICHOKE MYSTERY: SOLVED
Jul. 29th, 2020 10:51 pmAround this time last year, I cautiously (but not cautiously enough) made a first attempt at cooking with allotment artichokes (the relevant sentence in that post being "The major culinary misadventure of the week involved globe artichokes, from the allotment, over which we shall draw a discreet veil").
What happened was: I recalled tomato-bean-artichoke stews I had gladly eaten in the past. I harvested some artichokes. I poked at the internet and failed to get it to explain to me in any way I felt confident in how exactly one was to go about preparation. I took several deep breaths. I dithered a lot. I thought about supermarket tinned artichokes (which are a distinct beast to the Artischokenboden -- artichoke floors -- I'd met in Switzerland some years prior). I prevaricated and hedged my bets and tried several variants on preparation prior to cooking-the-things-in-tomato-sauce, and I expressed my trepidation to the people I was intending to feed.
Oh Hush, Alex, they said. It'll Be Fine, Alex, they said. It's Always Been Fine Before.
It was not fine.
This experience rather put me off the entire concept. I tried again a couple of weeks ago, though, and this time managed to find and follow the instructions about "trim the stem, cut a centimetre or two off the top, steam upside down" (thanks be to the extravagant asparagus steamer I bought from TK Maxx in the Before Times, which I don't think I can really claim as an "impulse purchase" given that I spent weeks watching it get progressively marked down before springing for it).
The results (dipped in melted butter-lemon juice-pepper) are definitely edible, but were also a tremendous faff, and I remained Baffled and Perplexed and Concerned That I Was Doing It Wrong, because no matter how small I picked them they all contained a central core of Stabby Death, with bracts that were always at least in part too tough to actually consume enjoyably.
WHAT, I wailed repeatedly to anyone who would listen, AM I DOING WRONG. I DON'T UNDERSTAND. HOW DO I GET FROM HERE TO *GESTURES AT SUPERMARKET ARTICHOKES* THERE? I DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW I COULD POSSIBLY TAKE *GESTURES EVEN MORE WILDLY* THESE AND END UP WITH THOSE.
One of the people I wailed to was![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
recessional, who managed to dig up a NYTimes article confirming that these things do actually exist and are actually artichokes. I then managed to turn up some more evidence along with a more detailed description of what they actually are. Short version: not a separate cultivar; just secondary buds growing ideally under leaves lower down the plant, which sometimes don't develop a choke (i.e. the bit you choke on) at all.
Do I have any idea how you identify such buds from the outside? Nope! So that's an adventure for tomorrow.
What happened was: I recalled tomato-bean-artichoke stews I had gladly eaten in the past. I harvested some artichokes. I poked at the internet and failed to get it to explain to me in any way I felt confident in how exactly one was to go about preparation. I took several deep breaths. I dithered a lot. I thought about supermarket tinned artichokes (which are a distinct beast to the Artischokenboden -- artichoke floors -- I'd met in Switzerland some years prior). I prevaricated and hedged my bets and tried several variants on preparation prior to cooking-the-things-in-tomato-sauce, and I expressed my trepidation to the people I was intending to feed.
Oh Hush, Alex, they said. It'll Be Fine, Alex, they said. It's Always Been Fine Before.
It was not fine.
This experience rather put me off the entire concept. I tried again a couple of weeks ago, though, and this time managed to find and follow the instructions about "trim the stem, cut a centimetre or two off the top, steam upside down" (thanks be to the extravagant asparagus steamer I bought from TK Maxx in the Before Times, which I don't think I can really claim as an "impulse purchase" given that I spent weeks watching it get progressively marked down before springing for it).
The results (dipped in melted butter-lemon juice-pepper) are definitely edible, but were also a tremendous faff, and I remained Baffled and Perplexed and Concerned That I Was Doing It Wrong, because no matter how small I picked them they all contained a central core of Stabby Death, with bracts that were always at least in part too tough to actually consume enjoyably.
WHAT, I wailed repeatedly to anyone who would listen, AM I DOING WRONG. I DON'T UNDERSTAND. HOW DO I GET FROM HERE TO *GESTURES AT SUPERMARKET ARTICHOKES* THERE? I DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW I COULD POSSIBLY TAKE *GESTURES EVEN MORE WILDLY* THESE AND END UP WITH THOSE.
One of the people I wailed to was
recessional, who managed to dig up a NYTimes article confirming that these things do actually exist and are actually artichokes. I then managed to turn up some more evidence along with a more detailed description of what they actually are. Short version: not a separate cultivar; just secondary buds growing ideally under leaves lower down the plant, which sometimes don't develop a choke (i.e. the bit you choke on) at all.Do I have any idea how you identify such buds from the outside? Nope! So that's an adventure for tomorrow.