Saturday, July 31, 2010

An old married couple

Artichokes are frumpy. That's really all there is to it. They actually look pretty nice when you first buy them. The lovely color green, sometimes brushed with purple, all in a neat little bulb, with the "petals" hanging down like a tutu. But then, you cook it. And that pretty little green becomes a dull and completely lifeless shade of camo green. The petals, which had once been tightly closed, open up a bit. It's not the prettiest sight.

But all that is made up for because artichokes are so fun to eat. I grew up eating artichokes, and as a kid, they were probably the most fun food. Eating an artichoke is like playing with your food. You break off one little petal, scrape off the meat with your teeth and continue. My mom has always served artichokes in a pretty traditional way, steamed, with lemony mayo for dipping. I've never been much of a mayo girl, and though I am coming around, I've started to prepare mine a little differently. The cooking method remains the same, but before cooking, I stuff bits of lemon peel, mint, and garlic between the petals. Toward the end of cooking, I pour over a little vermouth, which adds a lovely sweetness. All of this adds some subtle flavor to the artichoke.

Recently, I had two artichokes. I prepared one in my usual way. But then I decided to try something different with the other. I'd read about bagna cauda in an issue of Bon Appetit magazine, and had been wanting to try it. Bagna cauda means "hot bath" in Italian, and is a warm, garlicky dip for vegetables. The dip is very easy to make, and contains very few ingredients: garlic, butter, anchovies, olive oil. You can read a recipe here, though I made mine a little differently, with less olive oil.

And oh my goodness, it was perfect. An amazing accompaniment to the artichokes, which have a very mellow flavor. Bagna cauda, as you can probably tell from the ingredients, is anything but. So the combination of mellow and intense works really well. The artichokes let the other flavors shine. The garlic becomes mellow and sweet, and the anchovies add their very unique saltiness. And though I can't believe I ate a whole bulb of garlic in one sitting, it was worth it, and not at all hard to do.

Plus, bagna cauda is just as frumpy as an artichoke. They are a perfect pair.

1 comment:

Joyce said...

"at least you'll never be a vegetable - even artichokes have hearts!"