Eats Shoots and Leaves

A panda walks into a bar. He orders a sandwich, eats it, then draws a gun and fires two shots in the air. "Why? Why are you behaving in this strange, un-panda-like fashion?" asks the confused waiter, as the panda walks towards the exit. The panda produces a badly punctuated wildlife manual and tosses it over his shoulder.

"I'm a panda," he says, at the door. "Look it up."

The waiter turns to the relevant entry and, sure enough, finds an explanation. "Panda. Large black-and-white bear-like mammal, native to China. Eats, shoots and leaves."

An old joke, but one that has relevance to this spring season, and not because we'll find pandas behaving badly. It's due to the plethora of spring shoots like raab and rapini, yes, but also other sweet tendrils like those of fava beans and peas.

Go to the farmers' market and just behind the explosions of fresh flower arrangements you'll often see a rickety old card table mounded with green bundles of bok choy, pea shoots and other lesser-known but delicious spring greens like culantro, sawtooth herb and unusual mint varieties. You'll also find that the prices are often less than at larger stands and the quality is always superb.

On my last trip to the market I brought back a huge bunch of pea shoots, with their fine, twisty tendrils and blossoms just beginning to color, so a spring pesto was called for. Plus there was enough left over to chop and sauté the remaining half bunch and toss it with some mushrooms and spectacular purple asparagus.

Pasta with Pea Shoot Pesto, Asparagus and Mushrooms

For the pesto:
1 lb. pasta (I like fettucine or linguine for this recipe)
1 large bunch pea shoots
Olive oil
1 large clove garlic, minced
2 Tbsp. pine nuts
1/4 c. parmesan, grated
Salt to taste

For the pasta:
3 anchovy filets (optional)
1/2 lb. asparagus spears, sliced in 1" lengths
1/4 lb. mushrooms
1/4 tsp. dried hot red peppers, like cayenne, seeded and ground

Put a large pot of water on to boil. While it heats, make the pesto.

Slice the bunch of pea shoots into 2” lengths, reserving a few tendrils for garnishing the final dish. Take the pieces from the bottom half (the thicker stems) and place them in a blender with the garlic and pine nuts. Drizzle in some olive oil, turn on the blender and continue drizzling just until it makes a smooth purée. Pour into small mixing bowl and stir in cheese and salt to taste.

When the water boils, add the pasta to the pot and cook till al dente. While the pasta cooks, heat 2 Tbsp. olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. When it shimmers, add the anchovies, if using, and mash them with the back of a spoon until they dissolve (1 min. or so). Add the cayenne, mushrooms and asparagus and sauté until the vegetables are tender but still crunchy. Add the remaining chopped pea shoots and sauté till wilted.

Drain the pasta, add the pesto and toss until thoroughly combined. Top with pea shoot mixture and garnish with reserved tendrils. Additional grated parmesan can be served alongside.

Get the excellent and grammatically witty tome containing the panda joke, Eats Shoots & Leaves, The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation by British writer Lynne Truss.

Breakfast for Dinner: Craving Spring Things

Let's face it: Spring is all about sex. Call it reproduction, fertility or, to use Anthony Boutard's favorite word, fecundity, nature is having a field day making more of itself. Hens start laying eggs again, little green things (weeds included) are popping out of the bare earth and farmers are finally able to get out in their fields to plant crops, muddy and clumpy though those fields may be.

Chorizo and spring vegetables…yum!

I've been longing for spring things lately, especially after a winter diet of root vegetables and winter greens, and my freezer is looking mighty empty since we've cleaned out most of the roasted tomatoes, lamb, pork and beef I crammed into it last fall. Luckily the farmers' market season is roaring back to life now, so it's easy to satisfy my craving for these first sweet sproutings.

Homemade sourdough cubes, natch!

With that in mind, a recent article by David Tanis in the Dining section of the New York Times about a Spanish dish of eggs and spring vegetables piqued my interest. Called revueltos or huevos revueltos, it basically means scrambled eggs and usually includes vegetables of one sort or another. Often found at tapas bars or served as a light supper dish—my fondness for these "breakfast for dinner" dishes is longstanding—the one that Tanis shared featured asparagus and bread cubes toasted in olive oil and garlic.

I happened to have picked up a couple of bunches of asparagus at the mid-week Shemanski market from Leslie at Viridian Farms, and had about half a bunch of green garlic left over from an earlier trip. Dinner was still an open question and I'd just replenished the egg supply, so I decided to follow the seeming synchronicity and give the dish a whirl.

Needless to say, and anyone who's made a frittata, quiche or even an omelet can attest, it was simple, quick and delicious. Perfect for a spring supper!

Revueltos (Scrambled Eggs) with Green Garlic and Asparagus

Adapted from David Tanis

Olive oil

2 peeled garlic cloves

2 c. dried bread cubes, cut in 1/2" cubes

3 oz. diced Spanish chorizo*

1 bunch asparagus, about 1 1/2 lbs., sliced in 1" lengths

1/2 bunch green garlic, sliced in 1" lengths

8 large eggs, beaten

1/2 tsp. Spanish pimentón (smoked paprika)

Salt to taste

Heat 3 tablespoons olive oil in a large non-stick skillet (or well-seasoned cast iron pan) over medium-high heat. Add peeled garlic cloves and let them sizzle until lightly browned, then remove. Add bread cubes, lower heat to medium and gently fry until lightly browned and crisp, about 2 minutes. Remove bread and set aside to cool.

Add chorizo and fry lightly. Add asparagus and green garlic and stir-fry until cooked through but firm, 3 to 4 minutes. 

Reduce heat to low. Add pimentón to eggs. Pour eggs into skillet with vegetables and cook, stirring with a wooden spoon, just until soft and creamy, 2 to 3 minutes. Top with bread cubes and serve in the skillet, or transfer eggs to large serving bowl, topping with bread cubes, and serve immediately.

This would also make a great breakfast or brunch dish.

* I used my friend Paul Bertolli's Fra'Mani Chorizo Pork Sausage.

In Season: Asparagus Risotto

Whether its miner's lettuce, nettles or fiddleheads, I just can't get enough of the first green things that pop out of the ground in spring. Call it months of chard or kale overload, but the appearance of the first rapini or asparagus at the farmers' market sings a siren song that has my feet dancing over and my hands loading my basket with them.

The sturdier greens are perfect for grilling or blanching for dinner, and they're perfect for tossing into a stir-fry with rice or pasta. Plus I've finally started pickling some of them to enjoy later in the year with grilled and smoked meats or throwing into salads for a vinegar-y kick.

But right now I want them fresh, so other evening I made an asparagus risotto that featured the crunch of the bright green tips combined with the puréed stalks, which colored the creamy rice a lovely chartreuse. With a last-minute shower of crumbled hard boiled eggs and ribbons of duck prosciutto, I was sure I heard an echo of that irresistible song of spring.

Asparagus Risotto

1 lb. asparagus, peeled, trimmed and cut into one-inch-long pieces, tips reserved

4 c. chicken or vegetable stock

1 c. white wine
2 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil

3 Tbsp. butter or margarine
1/2 onion, diced

2 tsp. garlic, finely chopped
2 c. Arborio rice

1 c. dry white wine
Salt to taste

1/2 c. grated Parmesan cheese
2 hard-boiled eggs, crumbled
4 thin slices pork or duck prosciutto, cut in ribbons

Bring a pot of water to a boil. Add the asparagus stalks and simmer until just tender but still a bit crunchy. Drain and immediately rinse under cold water. Put cooked asparagus in a blender or food processor and add just enough water to allow machine to puree until smooth; set aside.

Put stock in a medium saucepan over low heat. Then, in a deep nonstick skillet, heat oil and 1 tablespoon butter over medium flame. When it is hot, add onion and garlic, stirring occasionally until it softens, 3 to 5 minutes.

Add rice and cook, stirring occasionally, until it is glossy, about 2 to 3 minutes. Add white wine, stir, and let liquid bubble away. Add a large pinch of salt. Add warmed stock, 1/2 cup or so at a time, stirring occasionally. Each time stock has just about evaporated, add more.

After about 15 minutes, add asparagus tips, continuing to add stock when necessary. In 5 minutes, begin tasting rice. You want it to be tender but with a bit of crunch; it could take as long as 30 minutes total to reach this stage. When it does, stir in asparagus puree. Remove skillet from heat, add remaining butter and stir briskly. Add Parmesan and stir briskly, then taste and adjust seasoning. Risotto should be slightly soupy. Sprinkle with crumbled egg and prosciutto ribbons. Serve immediately.

This recipe also works quite nicely with the microwave method, but you'll have to ignore the screams of risotto purists. (The noise will die down once they taste it.)

Spring Green

My mother was the product of prim and proper parents. Yes, my grandfather would spit out the occasional "Damn!" when he wanted to emphasize a point or express frustration, but I never heard my grandmother utter more than "Heavens!" though she could rock a disapproving stare like nobody's business.

On the rare occasions my mother would utter a curse, it tended toward the somewhat more emphatic "Goddammit" arena, and in high school I delighted in popping out with a casual "Sh*t!" and later dropped f-bombs with abandon just for the shock effect.

It won't surprise you, then, that any discussion of bodily functions, much less sex, was off the table unless it was couched in technical terminology. But one thing she could never resist mentioning every time it came up in conversation was the amusing effect that asparagus has on the smell of urine. "It makes your pee smell funny, you know," she'd say with a naughty grin, as if this was a curious phenomenon she, and she alone, had knowledge of.

So every year when it's asparagus season, I can't help but think of her when I pick up up the brightly rubber-banded bundles of asparagus from the farmers' market. And yes, mom, whether they're grilled, steamed, stir-fried or, in this case, made into a delicious emerald risotto, they still make my pee smell funny.

Asparagus Risotto

Adapted from Mario Batali

1 lb. asparagus, peeled, trimmed and cut into one-inch-long pieces, tips reserved

4-6 c. chicken or vegetable stock

2 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil

3 Tbsp. butter or margarine
1/2 onion, diced

2 tsp. garlic, finely chopped
2 c. Arborio rice

1 c. dry white wine
Salt to taste

1/2 c. grated Parmesan cheese

Bring a pot of water to a boil. Add half the asparagus stalks and cook until quite soft, at least 5 minutes. Rinse quickly under cold water. Put cooked asparagus in a blender or food processor and add just enough water to allow machine to puree until smooth; set aside.

Put stock in a medium saucepan over low heat. Then, in a deep nonstick skillet, heat oil and 1 tablespoon butter over medium flame. When it is hot, add onion and garlic, stirring occasionally until it softens, 3 to 5 minutes.

Add rice and cook, stirring occasionally, until it is glossy, about 2 to 3 minutes. Add white wine, stir, and let liquid bubble away. Add a large pinch of salt. Add warmed stock, 1/2 cup or so at a time, stirring occasionally. Each time stock has just about evaporated, add more.

After about 15 minutes, add remaining asparagus pieces and tips, continuing to add stock when necessary. In 5 minutes, begin tasting rice. You want it to be tender but with a bit of crunch; it could take as long as 30 minutes total to reach this stage. When it does, stir in 1/2 cup asparagus puree. Remove skillet from heat, add remaining butter and stir briskly. Add Parmesan and stir briskly, then taste and adjust seasoning. Risotto should be slightly soupy. Serve immediately.