Tactical Asparagus

Lest you think that the only thing on our plates at Grass Valley was beef, take a gander at the grilled asparagus Jeff prepared and served with a balsamic reduction.

I had never made a balsamic reduction before so when Jeff asked me to oversee his while he was tending the steaks on Guy's ginormous gas grill (it doubles as an aircraft carrier in time of war), I was initially a little anxious.

Turns out I needn't have been - all you do is gently boil balsamic vinegar until the bubbles become large and shiny and the vinegar thickens a bit.

Poured over the asparagus, the tangy vinegar, made sweeter by the reducing, complemented the bright, earthy asparagus perfectly. This enormous platter of green was all but gone by the time dinner was over.

I think it was a clever ruse to keep us from finishing our steaks - how could we resist? Having made that rash bet, Jeff needed to ensure that he could keep his honor without having to make good on the promise to eat the Manhattan phone book. Feed 'em lots of lovely asparagus and a side of pesto tortellini and you'll win your bet for sure.

The Scent Lingers

When spring was reluctant to come but we were still aching for grilled food, I decided to use the Jennair grill for the fresh asparagus spears. Then, hungry for the taste of sizzled salmon rather than the quieter poached, I threw that on the grill, too.

I rolled the asparagus around in a little olive oil to hasten the grill marks while not overcooking the spears. The salmon went on just as it was, skin side down first, as it's then easier to flip when the time comes.

When they both came off the grill, I squeezed half a lime over them, which brightened all the flavors.

After dinner, I cleaned the grill and the spittered counter tops, ran the spent lime rind down the GDU, bundled up the garbage and took it outside, but the scent of grilled salmon still lingers in the house. Not such a bad thing, really.

Egging Him On

Spring cleaning is a hallowed tradition, but not one that My Beloved and I really adhere to. We tend to leave cleaning until there is absolutely nothing else in the entire world to do, or when we can no longer function in our space, whichever comes first.

Inevitably, it's the latter.

We always groan and roll our eyes when that day comes, but we do finally bite the bullet. This week, it was the garage. Because My Beloved works from home and represents several factories, we have an ever-changing inventory of samples, pamphlets, leaflets, returns, defectives, empty boxes, packing materials and just plain junk in our garage sharing space with my collection of toolbox, gardening and cleaning supplies and tools, saddle, bridle, boots (haven't owned a horse in 15 years but I cherish my tack), brooms, buckets, spare paint cans, shipping boxes, seasonal decorations - the list is epic and mostly boring. That's what garages are for, right?

Every now and then, when the jumble-sale-to-be that is our garage becomes totally unworkable, we get down to business and recycle his outdated literature, cut up the extra boxes for recycling, corral the so-annoying packaging "peanuts" and get down to where the floor can actually be swept. We do have very nice shelves all around the periphery of the garage, so it shouldn't get this bad, nor should righting it take this long but, *sigh*, it always does.

He does most of the work, since only he can make sense out of his stuff; mostly, I'm just out there sweeping around him and egging him on.

The other thing we are trying to clean out is our double supply of eggs. So, when we had put two solid hours into the garage reorganization and decontamination project, I decided he had earned a hearty lunch. Searching through the fridge, I found the makings for a perfect lunch to keep his energy up for the afternoon - poached eggs on Pain au Levain from Acme, with Swiss cheese and asparagus.

There isn't much to tell you about how to do this but, for what it's worth, here's what I did. Got a pan of water boiling that was big and deep enough for all the eggs, then added the asparagus to it after washing and snapping the ends. The asparagus simmered for only about three minutes, as they were the nice little thin ones, before I scooped them out and set them aside. To the same, now faintly green, water I added the eggs. I don't swirl the water to keep the whites together and I detest the practice of adding vinegar to the water to achieve that goal. Vinegar changes the texture of the whites and leaves an aftertaste. Yes, I lose some of the white where it thins out and sometimes tears, but I prefer that to textural and taste losses.

While the eggs poached for a few minutes, I cut the center slices from a loaf of Pain au Levain and toasted them, buttering while still hot (a single center slice of that bread is so big that it easily accommodated two eggs) and topping them with a slice of Swiss cheese. I love the combination of the nutty cheese with the rich eggs and fresh asparagus.

I sliced the asparagus lengthwise in half, to make a firmer foundation for the slippery eggs - those went on top of the cheese, laid like cord wood.

I test the eggs for doneness by gently pressing the thickest part of the white. When it is firm all the way through, the eggs are done. My Beloved likes runny yolks, so I lifted his from the water first and prepped his plate. The extra 30 seconds or minute in the water was enough to firm up the outside of my yolks, just the way I like them. Fresh ground pepper and a tiny spritz of the Hawaiian sea salt that was my Christmas present. That's really all there is to it. No foolin'.

We fell upon this lunch like the proverbial pack of wolves. Having consumed the protein that would fuel the rest of the work, we each ate a couple of tangerines for quick carbo energy and, thus fortified, hit the decks for another two hours of sorting, organizing, cleaning and recycling. We filled our recycling bin entirely (it is chest high on me) and invaded our neighbors' as well. I'm proud to report that one can now walk entirely around the car, even with the garage door closed, without tripping over a single thing.

We keep opening the garage door just to gaze at our shining achievement. It should stay pretty for, oh, a week or two, tops.

Spring Hat Trick

A couple of my Navy friends were coming for lunch one day last week - Sunny and Bonnie, whom I met when we three were more or less imprisoned in a French boarding school back when President Kennedy was refusing to let the Russians place missiles in Cuba. Of the ten or so American girls at the school, only four of us have stayed in touch and three of us live locally so we get together three times a year to swap stories and catch up.

Spring may not be here officially yet, but signs of it are everywhere - daffodils and flowering trees are brightening the landscape, it's no longer pitch black dark at dinner time and the neighbor's kids have switched from hockey to baseball. Best of all, new potatoes and asparagus from Zuckerman and green garlic are in the markets. With a hat trick like that, it seemed perfect to tip winter into spring by serving a raclette version with green garlic over those tender little spuds and nestled next to some grilled asparagus.

There isn't really even a recipe for a meal so simple and direct. Slice some green garlic, sauté it in a little butter. Steam some little potatoes and cut them into more or less bite-size pieces. Mix the potatoes and the green garlic together and top with slices of raclette cheese. Run under the broiler until the cheese melts, bubbles and just lightly browns.

Drizzle a minimal amount of olive oil over some fresh, washed asparagus once the ends are snapped off. Arrange them on a hot grill (I used my Jennair, since it was raining outside by then, but a grill pan works just as well and, if it's sunny, a barbecue is the best for smoky flavor) and roll them around as they brown and even blacken in spots. If the heat is very hot, watch them carefully - this only takes a very few minutes. Serve hot or cold or room temp - they are deliciously sweet any way they come!

Sunny and I walked Cora around the town while we waited for Bonnie to arrive, then we all sat outside for a few minutes on the new deck, enjoying the fresh air just before the rain moved in (again!) and catching up with each others' lives. Bonnie will have a third grandchild in the summer. Sunny's husband is publishing a book. I'm anticipating an Easter visit from our granddaughter. Sharing a meal and a natter with these women is my idea of a hat trick.

They're Back!

All winter, I've been tempted by fresh asparagus. They call to me, plump and softly green, each time I troll the vegetable aisle hungry for something new. They look so good but I know they come from somewhere in the southern hemisphere, shipped at great carbon expense. I wanted all that good flavor, but I just couldn't do it.

Today, when scanning the same aisles, I noted that this bunch was, at long, long last, from California!

They may have been grown a little south of here, so I probably broke the 100-mile radius rule for eating locally, but my willpower failed in the face of those lovely green spears. I never do anything fancy with the first asparagus of the season - no quiches, no Hollandaise, no risotto. The very first asparagus need nothing more than a gentle steaming and a reverent attitude.

As hungry as I was for asparagus, I'm even hungrier for spring; tulips and daffodils may shout of spring but no louder than fresh, green asparagus. My calla lilies are up and budded but the flowers haven't opened yet. My irises are leafing up but still have no sign of flower stalks. But, if there is local asparagus in the stores, spring can't be far behind.

Spring Rice

I go in spurts. When I find a preparation I like, I tend to make it all the time until My Beloved cries "uncle!" and we move on to the next enthusiasm.

It would seem that raclette and risotto are my current jags. This risotto is the best one I've made so far, Lemon Risotto with Green Garlic, Chicken Apple Sausage and Asparagus. Doesn't that sound like a menu from some fancypants restaurant? But, I didn't get this from a famous chef; I assembled it from the contents of my fridge.

I discovered the fun of using lemon juice in risotto in place of the usual wine when I had no white wine in the house but lotsa lemons; I like it better. The Meyer lemons from Momo and Patty's bush are flavoring many of my dishes these days and one of them really improved this risotto.

After sautéeing the sliced green garlic in a knob of butter and adding about 3/4 of a cup of carnaroli rice to coat with buttery garlicky goodness, I added the juice of one (very juicy) lemon, chopped a single chicken apple sausage and added that to the pot, too. Stir, stir. Then came the veggie broth, ladled in and stirred bit by bit until it was all added (about three cups). Just as I was adding the parmesan cheese before serving, the thin asparagus spears, cut into inch-long lengths, went in and were stirred along with the rice until they were bright green and just tender.

The result was so fresh and springlike that we were both nodding and savoring, twinkling at each other over mouths full of flavor.

So far, I've heard no grumbles about "too much risotto" from My Beloved. I guess I can keep this trend going for a few more meals before he waves his white flag and asks for a change of menu.

Neighborhood Watch Salad

We had been invited to a potluck party for our Neighborhood Watch section; I was determined to take something a little different, so I went surfing on the interwebs to find something appealing and springlike.

I had tangerines on hand so I searched epicurious.com (man, I love that site!) for tangerine recipes; when I found this one, I stopped looking.

Roasted Asparagus Salad with Tangerine Dressing

1 pound asparagus, trimmed
1 teaspoon olive oil
2 large tangerines or small oranges
1/3 cup fresh tangerine juice or orange juice (Having tasted this, I think orange would be too bitter)
2 teaspoons rice vinegar
1-1/2 teaspoons oriental [sic] sesame oil
1-1/2 teaspoons grated fresh tangerine peel or orange peel
1 clove garlic, pressed
3/4 teaspoon minced peeled fresh ginger
2 Tablespoons finely chopped green onion tops
2 Tablespoons finely chopped dry-roasted peanuts

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Place asparagus in medium bowl. Pour enough cold water over asparagus to cover; let stand 15 minutes. Drain. Spread asparagus in a 13 x 9 x 2 inch baking pan; drizzle with oil. Roast asparagus until crisp-tender, turning occasionally, about 10 minutes. Transfer asparagus to platter and cool.

Using a sharp knife, cut the peel and white pith from tangerines. Cut between the membranes to release segments. Arrange tangerine segments atop asparagus. Whisk tangerine juice, vinegar, sesame oil, peel, garlic and ginger in a small bowl to blend. Season dressing to taste with salt and pepper. Drizzle over asparagus. Sprinkle with green onion tops and peanuts.

I mostly followed directions but when I whisked up the dressing it tasted a little too blah so I splashed in more vinegar, garlic and ginger than called for. Didn't finely chop my green onion tops, just sliced and sprinkled. (Took this picture; note no peanuts yet). Coarsely chopped my peanuts, which were indeed dry roasted but not salted - another time, I think the salty ones would have been a bit better.

The salad was a big hit at the party, according to My Beloved, who went in my stead while I stayed home and made sure Cora didn't scratch her ear or worry her drain. I kept some for our dinner, too. Good move.

Simple, Green

Hurray and Hallelujah, here they are, the first local, fresh asparagus of the season!

This is the exact color of the grass on the hills of the Carmel Valley right now, so bright a chartreuse that it seems lit from within. The winter rains in northern California change the hills from the gold of summer to this luscious green, a miraculous resurgence of life that seems at odds with the rest of the country where winter colors are off the spectrum into gray, black and white. My favorite color is new green.

I dithered about how to prepare them - steam? saute'? soup? - but finally decided simply to grill them, brushed with a hint of olive oil, until they developed little brown spots and turned this bright, shiny spring green. I didn't even salt or pepper them, just washed them and snapped the stems before laying them with reverence across the bars of the grill.

We ate them with a fat pork chop, applesauce and roasted potatoes - winter giving way to spring on the plate as well as outside the window. Happy Spring!