"One artichoke is not enough for my supper," Mary Ann told me, "and two is too much." Artichokes were my friend's favorite food for a solitary meal, reading and plucking one toothsome leaf after another to be dipped in warm hollandaise sauce and gradually getting down to the tender heart of the matter.
This account was my introduction to the cynara scolymus, the globe artichoke.
Hail Mary Ann! And hail the brave soul who first picked the well-armored globe! For years, I ate artichokes only as Mary Ann had instructed, simply trimmed and cooked in water.
This preparation is still a favorite, served warm with hollandaise sauce or drawn butter or cold with mayonnaise or vinaigrette. But to stop at this juncture would be unfortunate given the endless possibilities for artichoke treats.
Savor artichoke hearts on pizza, in pesto and pasta sauce. Fancy the vegetable steamed or creamed or stuffed. Roast it with lamb, in chicken or quail. Zap it.
In Europe, a number of types of artichokes are popular, but in this country the Green Globe is the variety most actively cultivated and generally available. It usually appears in our markets weighing between 8 and 16 ounces, but sometimes the considerably smaller "baby artichokes" are available. These are not babies at all, but fully mature Green Globes that grew on the lower part of the plant, shielded from the sun. One pound can contain six to 12 artichokes.
I realized the expanse of the artichoke's culinary horizon when Fielding's guidebook to Italy led me to Piperno, a restaurant in the old Jewish section of Rome that specializes in artichokes. I dined on carciofi alla giudia, a wonder of a fried vegetable that comes out of its deep-fat bath at full flavor and flower.
Hail the chef who first introduced the artichoke to oil! And to butter and cream and cheese, for there is no doubting its propensity for them all. Luckily, at less than 50 calories by itself, the average artichoke can take a little unctuous adornment without getting a dieter into too much trouble.
The taste of the artichoke is sometimes described as bitter, though I don't find it so if it is cooked long enough. There is a suggestion of smokiness and lemon and even sweetness, especially at the heart. In formulating his Gustametric Chart on the intensity of food flavors, Carl A. Rietz (Rietx Master Food Guide, AVI Publishing Co., 1978) lists artichokes at about the same level as celeriac, grape leaves and parsley root.
When purchasing fresh artichokes, look for firm, fresh globes. A little browning on the leaves will not affect the flavor and is usually caused by frost, but dry and curling leaves are a sure sign that the artichoke is old. Keep fresh artichokes in the refrigerator and plan to use them within three or four days.
If you eat an artichoke cooked in the most basic fashion, you will quickly learn its anatomy, which is an important lesson if you want to move on to sculpting artichoke hearts and bottoms for a great variety of dishes.
First, there are the tough outer leaves with their prickly pointed tips. At the base of each is a small amount of edible matter. As you work your way toward the center, more and more of the leaf can be eaten. Then, alas, there is the choke! Tiny, pale green leaves cover a fuzzy growth, which is made up of the flowerets. These leaves and the fuzz must be cut away to allow you to reach the artichoke's prized, meaty, delicious bottom. It's well worth the effort.
Hearts or bottoms? In popular parlance there seems to be a divergence of opinion on exactly what should be called the heart of the artichoke. Trimmed down to the edible leaves and fleshy base, the vegetable is marketed either frozen or canned as hearts. However, many recipes refer to the leafless base as the heart while they are sold in cans labeled as artichoke bottoms.
The canned hearts or bottoms that I have tried are definitely inferior to the fresh artichoke. However, I find them acceptable for use in dips or spreads because they are mixed with other flavorful ingredients. Canned hearts, chopped and mixed with mayonnaise and Parmesan cheese and baked for about 20 minutes, are a Southern standby on the cocktail circuit.
Other shelf items, such as bottled marinated artichoke hearts and artichoke pesto, generally do not have the off-taste of those in cans.
Halved or quartered frozen hearts taste much more like fresh artichokes than the canned ones do. Given the conveniences they afford, they should be a valuable addition to anyone's freezer stash. Just don't expect them to have much flesh on their bottoms! Try adding them to pan drippings when making a sauce for baked pork or poultry. Dip them in cheese fondue. Use them to perk up casseroles.
In the 1970s, a bit of a flap arose about whether wine should be served with artichokes. According to food authority and author Harold McGee, an organic acid called cynarin is the cause of the controversy. It seems that cynarin, unique to artichokes, can lend a sweet aftertaste to other foods and drinks. It also seems that the ability to taste this sweetness could be genetically based. Some notice the effect, others do not.
Pass me the wine. I've never noticed a thing.
Jane Adams Finn is a Washington writer.
