Traditionally, it’s the egg that represents spring’s promise of rebirth. A much better candidate would be the asparagus. In the first place, it tastes better. Can you imagine anything more enticing than a big platter of fat spears, boiled or steamed just to the perfect point of mousse-iness and then drizzled with nothing more than a mild olive oil and fresh lemon juice? In a just world, that feast would be as required for the first day of spring as a roast turkey is for the heart of fall.
The cult of asparagus lovers—though still somewhat small when compared to, say, the mass religion that surrounds the summer tomato—tends to be no less passionate. It is, however, much more deeply divided, with many competing sects that are willing to go to the mat over various elements of doctrine. Asparagus lovers will argue about the merits of fat or thin spears. They’ll debate the necessity of peeling. They’ll quibble over methods for removing the spear’s tough base. A tiny group of the truly orthodox holds out for the supremacy of the white asparagus. Fans will even argue about their beloved vegetable’s effect on their urine.
Let’s take a closer look at these issues. Believers in skinny spears claim that their asparagus is superior because it doesn’t need to be peeled. It is delicate and crisp. Its very slenderness is evidence that it truly is the first spear of spring. Followers of the fatties respond equally dogmatically. Their spears aren’t tough at all, they protest. Further, they are obviously the one true choice because what could be more fitting for the promise of spring than a rich, juicy texture? In reality, they’re both right. Skinny or fat, all asparagus is good in its own way. You just need to know how to use it.
First, a slender spear is not a sign of the first harvest. In fact, more often than not, the opposite is true. Whether asparagus is thick or thin depends on many things, but among them is what farmers call vigor—how healthy the plant is. On this issue the scientific evidence is clear: plants just beginning to produce make fatter spears. It’s not as cut-and-dried as that, though, because the same plant will produce a whole range of sizes. Asparagus grows from a mass of roots, and each mass sends up scores of spears. Those that come up closer to the center, where the plant stores its nutrients, are fatter. Those farther out on the fringe are thinner.
Furthermore, although fatter asparagus does have a thicker, more fibrous peel that needs to be removed before cooking, it also has much more of the tender inner flesh as well. The peel is thinner on slender asparagus, so it doesn’t need to be removed, but the juicy center portion is smaller, too. With fat asparagus, the peel is thicker and more fibrous toward the bottom. So start peeling from the tip, using gentle pressure, and then gradually increase the pressure toward the base. This will get rid of all the tough parts and leave only the juicy core. On a related plumbing matter, no matter how big of a hurry you are in, do not put those asparagus peels down the drain. Even if your garbage disposal will grind glass, it will not break up asparagus peels.
Whether spears are fat or thin, you’ll almost always need to trim their bases (the only exceptions being if you buy asparagus that has already been cut—some stores do this for you). The lower portion of all asparagus is tougher and stringier than the tips—so tough and stringy, in fact, that it can’t comfortably be eaten as it is. The conventional wisdom for removing the tough part is to hold the tip of the asparagus in one hand and the base in the other and bend the spear until it snaps. This wastes a lot of asparagus. Try it yourself: snap some asparagus and then cook the supposedly woody end. You’ll find that much of what you would normally discard is edible—even delicious—down to the last inch and a half or so. You’re much better off simply trimming that portion with a knife. Don’t be too quick to discard the bases, especially if you’re preparing a lot of asparagus. They may be stringy, but they do have good flavor. Cook them in broth, puree them in a blender and then run them through a strainer, and you’ll have a very nice creamy asparagus soup. If you’re making a risotto with asparagus (something I highly recommend), save both the bases and whatever peels you have. Add them to the simmering broth, and in 15 to 20 minutes it will be infused with asparagus flavor.
The choice of skinny or fat comes down to whether you’re going to use the asparagus as a vegetable or as an ingredient. On the one hand, if you’re thinking of a plain platter stacked high with asparagus that has been simply boiled or steamed and lightly dressed with, say, a brightly colored sauce mimosa, the only choice is thick spears. And if it’s the first asparagus of the season, there should be so much that it makes up the whole dinner. Properly cooked—which is to say long enough that the asparagus is tender all the way through but quickly enough that the flavor and color haven’t begun to fade—fat spears are incomparably rich and juicy. The texture is almost like a vegetable mousse, with just a slight resistance to the tooth. On the other hand, if you’re planning a dish that will include asparagus along with other ingredients—a risotto or a frittata, for example—go ahead and pick the thinnest spears you can find. They’ll combine better with the other elements in the dish, whereas the thick ones might dominate. Since it hasn’t been peeled, skinny asparagus also tends to be a little crisper and have a brighter color that stands out better in a mix of ingredients.
As far as white asparagus is concerned, it’s hardly worth arguing over, since so little of it is available in the United States these days, and what little you will find is usually fabulously expensive. White asparagus isn’t a different variety, but rather spears that have been meticulously grown to prevent any exposure to sunlight. Sunlight creates chlorophyll, which has a green color. To grow white asparagus, farmers repeatedly pile more and more soft earth over the asparagus tips just as they begin to emerge, thus blocking the light. If you do find some white asparagus and decide to splurge, be very careful when peeling it. To get to the tender heart, you’ll need to peel more deeply than you do for green asparagus, and because it is so expensive, you’ll want to avoid as much waste as possible. In Germany, Switzerland and Austria, where white asparagus is celebrated, traditionally only the head chef is allowed to peel it, and only with a special vegetable peeler with an adjustable blade—designed just for that job.
One more controversy persists over asparagus, and those with delicate sensibilities must be cautioned. For centuries some people have noticed a change in the odor of their urine after eating asparagus, the result of the body’s metabolizing sulfurous compounds in the vegetable. (Proust credited asparagus with “transforming my chamber pot into a vase of aromatic perfume.”)
Until relatively recently, scientists were divided into two camps on this matter. One group held that some eaters are genetically predisposed to produce a chemical when they eat asparagus. The opposing group believed that some people have a genetically linked ability to smell the chemical. Today it is more commonly thought that the second theory is correct. To test this theory, scientists in the 1980s made a crucial change in their experimental regimen: rather than having people test their own urine for smell, they began randomizing samples and testers.
On a more savory note, one thing almost everyone can agree on is the importance of not overcooking asparagus. When overcooked, asparagus not only changes color from a gorgeous jade and emerald to a woeful olive drab. It also produces a chemical called methoxypyrazine, which has the distinct aroma and flavor of canned asparagus. There may be some debate, however, about whether this change is good or bad. The same chemical is a distinctive feature of many of the most expensive Sauvignon Blancs.
WHERE THEY’RE GROWN: Asparagus is an early-spring crop, with most harvesting finished by the end of April. California grows 80 percent of the fresh asparagus and more than half of all the asparagus in the United States. The next leading state is Michigan, which grows a little more than 10 percent of the total. In California the historic farming area is the deep, loamy delta of the Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers, around Stockton. There have also been significant plantings in the Imperial Valley, but in recent years these have dwindled due to competition from imported asparagus, mainly from Mexico and Peru.
HOW TO CHOOSE: Whether the asparagus is fat or thin, there are certain things to look for. First, check the tips. Remember that asparagus is a fern picked at an immature stage. The small “leaves” at the tip of the spear should still be tightly furled. The tender tip is also where asparagus will first begin to break down—it should be firm with no trace of softening. Second, check the base, which should be moist. Good markets sell asparagus sitting in a tray of water or on a moist towel to prevent the bases from drying out.
HOW TO STORE: Asparagus should be stored in the refrigerator in as humid an environment as possible. One way to accomplish this is to keep the spears upright in a container of water, like cut flowers. Drape a plastic bag over the top to create a moisture trap.
HOW TO PREPARE: To remove the tough bases, cut off the bottom inch or two of each spear: the thicker the spear, the more you’ll want to remove. Thin asparagus can be prepared without peeling (though you may if you wish, of course). Thick asparagus must be peeled. Use a regular potato peeler and start trimming from the tip end with a light touch, gradually increasing the pressure as you get closer to the base.
ONE SIMPLE DISH: Steamed asparagus is one of the great pleasures of the spring table. Select the fattest spears you can find, then peel and trim them. Tie them together in a fat bundle with kitchen twine. Steam them until you can easily pierce one with the tip of a sharp knife. They should be quite soft, cooked enough that they sag slightly when you lift them by the twine, but not cooked so much that their color fades. Figure 7 to 8 minutes. When they are done, dress them with very good olive oil and fresh lemon juice, then sprinkle them with sea salt. Serve warm or at room temperature with lots of bread to soak up the juice.