S & M Experience

I've been in an experimental mood for quite some time now, trying something new each time I hit the market; most of the experiments have been delicious revelations that made me wonder why I had avoided those particular ingredients for so long. There have been one or two oopses but, by and large, we have enjoyed these forays into (to us) uncharted gustatory terrain.

So, when in our Point Richmond farmer's market (Wednesdays, 4-6pm through the summer) I came across this exotic, curving bunch of pretty, wrinkly, maple-like leaves and pea-like tendrils, I asked the purveyors what they were. In halting English, with lots of smiles and gestures, they explained to me that this was the vine of bitter melon, best eaten lightly steamed and with chicken. Sounded interesting and I usually like bitter greens such as spinach and kale with chicken, so I popped the whole big bunch in my basket.

The next day, I prepared it by picking the leaves and tendrils off of the tougher vines and butter steaming; the leaves turn a wonderful dark green and wilt much like spinach does. Not having any chicken in the house, I served our poached salmon on it, flanked by a wedge of Meyer lemon from friends Patty and Momo's garden and a half a store-bought tangerine.

Sadly, bitter melon is well named. This is truly the Sadist of the veggie world - the leaves were so incredibly, bitingly bitter to our wimpy taste buds that we just couldn't summon the necessary masochism to finish them - more like medicine than like food. I did try squeezing the sweet tangerine juice over them but, while it helped a little, I still couldn't bring myself to finish my portion and My Beloved, who is a dedicated trencherman and an adventurous eater, put down his fork after the first bite.

If you have some sage advice for preparing bitter melon, please leave a comment. Otherwise, I will just chalk it up to bitter experience and try something else next time - maybe veggie bondage?.