It’s Easter, and my thoughts turn to asparagus. Much as I love to bite the heads off chocolate bunnies--especially the ones that have eyes made of icing. Asparagus becomes my preoccupation this time of year. Partly because it’s a spring vegetable with organic bunches suddenly available everywhere but also because roasted asparagus is my fallback Easter Brunch recipe.  The perfect complement to the heavy cheese egg and potato dishes that everyone else serves—and the easiest thing to make. The only caveats:  use a high quality sea salt and if you’re like me, go easy on the olive oil.  (Often I convert the translation of “drizzle” into a Jackson Pollock-inspired experience).

Last year, needing a new asparagus trick, I found Heidi Swanson’s Spring Ragout recipe.  As I mentioned in last week’s post, Swanson’s website 101 Cookbooks is an invaluable resource.  She makes gourmet cooking accessible without depending on ridiculous acronyms and expressions like certain celebrity chefs who I—and incidentally, Tony Bourdain —detest.  There are many things I like about this recipe, but what stands out the most is the interplay of cream, parmesan, and lemon zest with the vegetables.  As Swanson states--and I encourage you to read all of her commentary as well the recipe itself, the Ragout can stand on its own as a main dish, but I enjoyed following her suggestion and serving it with pan-fried gnocchi.  The first few times I made it, I wasn’t able to find fava beans and used frozen sugar snap peas instead.  And added more asparagus, of course.  The recipe follows—but again, I recommend consulting the website and reading the full post.  Just the photos of the meal are worth the trip.

 

Spring Ragout Recipe

April 24, 2008

It is important to have all your ingredients washed, prepped and ready to go before you even get near the stove. The whole thing comes together fast and furiously. The edible flowers you see here are flor de kale morado, unlike many other other edible flowers you might find they can stand up to a bit of cooking - it softens up their stems a bit and makes them a more pleasant texture to eat.

20-30 fava bean pods, removed from puffy shells

extra virgin olive oil

fine grain sea salt

1 bunch thin asparagus, cut into 1/2-inch segments

1 1/2 cups peas, freshly shelled or frozen

zest of one lemon

splash of cream

pecorino cheese (Parmesan would be a fine alt.)

edible flowers for garnish (totally optional)

Cook fava beans for about a minute in a pot of salted water. Drain, run under cold water, and shell 2nd layer. To do this pinch each fava to break the skin and gently squeeze to separate the bean from the skin. Set aside.

In a cold skillet big splash of olive oil, 2 big pinches of salt, and 2 tablespoons of water. Heat over medium high heat and when the water starts bubbling add the asparagus spears. Cover and cook for 30-45 seconds, longer if the asparagus is thicker until it is barely tender and bright green. Stir in the peas peas and cook uncovered for another 20 seconds or so (maybe a touch longer if you were using peas that were frozen). Stir in the lemon zest, the tiniest splash of cream, and serve garnished with edible flowers.

Serves 4.

I must confess that I have yet to brave the world of edible flowers.  Though they look delectable in the photo, I’m just not ready to take that leap. 

Another appeal to Swanson's writing and presentation, by the way, is her focus on options and possibility.  Though she accounts for the importance of timing and chemistry, she also allows the cook room to breathe, space to find what works for them.  As we mark Passover and Easter and thus, settle into Spring this week, no other focus is more welcome.