Springtime treats
Aahh asparagus…
At this time of year, from May to early June, I grow all nostalgic about my country of origin.
There is not much that I miss about Germany these days. My friends have long sinced moved on and my remaining close family lives in Wales. Even salty liquorice, the treat of my childhood, is available to order on the Internet and I now wallow in the stuff because Dutch Liquorice only sell their produce in wholesale quantities.
But asparagus…that is another matter.
In Britain, you don’t seem to be able to get decent asparagus. Don’t get me wrong, there is plenty of outstanding food to be had in the UK – see my previous entries in this category, or those yet to come. In fact, see below where I will sing the (considerable) praise of the Jersey Royal potato which I have come to consider as an almost equivalent seasonal treat. Almost, but not quite.
Back home, from early May until the traditional end of the season on St. John’s Day (June 24th) there would be four or more stalls every market day (Wednesdays and Saturdays – another thing I miss!) selling nothing but carefully graded asparagus, pulled from the soil that morning at the crack of dawn.
Asparagus is not cheap. It is expensive and labour-intensive to grow and harvest. Prior to cultivation, the ground has to be prepared over a period of 1.5-2 years to ensure the right balance of nutrients. The right conditions are also scarce – best suited is sandy-well drained soil which warms up quickly in the spring and the quality of the harvest varies greatly with the weather. Asparagus is a perennial, so it takes patience – three years before a full harvest is achieved. The plants are harvested over a ten year period but asparagus cannot subsequently be re-cultivated in the same ground, not even after more than a decade, due to persistent spores of a specific mould in the soil which affects yield and quality.
Green asparagus is easier to grow and to harvest, and therefore cheaper, than the white asparagus which is popular in Germany. White asparagus is grown below ground, this is achieved by heaping up soil over the rhizomes as the plants grow and the rows have to be spaced accordingly. Even today, harvesting is often carried out by hand. When cut too close to the rhizome, the vegetable will taste bitter and a larger proportion of the stem has to be discarded. Spacing and age of the plants and careful harvesting therefore influence the quality of the final product.
As with all good ingredients, asparagus is best treated gently. White asparagus is peeled thinly from the head towards the stem and simmered for 15-20 minutes in a little water with a pinch of sugar and salt, a knob of butter and a few drops of lemon juice which help to preserve the colour. Green asparagus is not peeled and can be steamed or placed into the water in upright bundles so that the tips cook in the steam. It is ready after 8-10 minutes, depending on diameter. I like it simply with butter, but asparagus with Sauce Hollandaise is a popular restaurant starter:
Sauce Hollandaise:
3 TB white wine vinegar, I TB water, 6 peppercorns (white if possible) coarsly crushed by pressing down once with the back of a knife, 1 bay leaf, 3 egg yolks, ca. 175g butter melted and left to cool to hand-warm (don’t worry if the milk-solids have settled at the bottom), a few drops of lemon juice, salt and more pepper.
Reduce the vinegar and water with the peppercorns and bayleaf until 1 TB liquid remains and strain into a round bowl. Bring water to a rolling simmer in a pot over which the bowl can be placed. Add the yolks to the bowl and whisk vigorously over the steam until glossy and just coating the side of the bowl. Careful at this stage! Cool slightly and gradually beat in the butter in a slow stream, away from the heat. When the mixture gets thick, place over the steam and beat the crap out of it, splashing on a few drops of water when in danger of curdling. This takes practise, I learned it in a restaurant where I prepared large quantities under close supervision by the chef who would whip the bowl away from me before it was too late! Taste to check that the sauce is satisfyingly buttery then adjust seasoning and add a few drops of lemon juice to taste. The sauce cannot be re-heated. It can be kept at about hand-warm for an hour or so, but this is the temperature at which gut bacteria grow so use ASAP (and only order in reputable restaurants!). — Or maybe stick to butter after all 🙂
Standing in the vegetable section of our local supermarket, I held up a little plastic tray with a few fibrous, floppy stems of asparagus inside. I put it down, turned around and instead dug both hands into a box full of gloriously earthy unwashed Jersey Royal potatoes, flown in that morning, the skin peeling away at the slightest flick of a fingernail.
An kidney-shaped oddity peculiar to Jersey, where such things are treasured, the enlightened farmer Hugh de la Haye and his friends noted the particular flavour of potatoes obtained from a freak plant back in 1880 and began to propagate the “Jersey Royal Fluke”.
Like the Arbroath Smokie and French champagne, the Jersey Royal potato has been awarded the EU “Protected Designation of Origin” accolade which ensures that it will remain unique to Jersey.
Like asparagus, Jersey Royals are not cheap, but well worth it. As with asparagus, they are grown with great care. They are hand-planted outdoors in January. Many are cultivated on slopes for good drainage and maximum exposure to the winter sun. Potatoes planted on the slopes are harvested by hand from mid-April onwards, mechanical lifters are used for the flatter fields cultivated later in the season.
Many farmers fertilise their crop with seaweed, which results in a subtle oceanic flavour.
99% of the crop is exported to mainland Britain, the only place outside Jersey where we can taste it. They are at their best early May until mid-June.
I first bought Jersey “mids”, the smallest grading, a couple of years ago in Lewisham market where they can be picked up for a song. Here in Scotland they cost a lot more, about a pound for a pound, but for a spring-time treat they are the closest thing to asparagus I have found. Their flavour is very subtle, so I lightly brush off the soil under running water then serve them plainly boiled, either with a knob of butter, plenty of seasoning and a light sprinkling of finely chopped mint (a unique British combination, but mint works better than parsley which is too coarse) or simply left to cool with nothing but salt and pepper. They also work well in a light potato salad with a good olive-oil and Dijon dressing, but mayonaise is too heavy for the finest quality potatoes.
Tags: 'Round the World Recipes, Tag Index
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