 |
| Find a nice restaurant... |
 |
| ...near a vineyard |
 |
| ...with a certain casual elegance... |
 |
| ...order a dry white, or whatever the chef suggests |
 |
| ...a crisp salad... |
 |
| Spargel with pan roasted potatoes and Weiner schnitzel |
 |
| The same, but with turkey steak |
In Germany, April brings Spargelzeit (Asparagus season). You don’t have to mark your calendar. Restaurant chalkboards everywhere brag “fresh asparagus.”
I view Spargelzeit not only in culinary terms, but also as a harbinger of spring. Time to drop the top on the cabrio, change to cotton scarves, have a meal al fresco, find another table inside because the sun went behind a cloud and your wife spears you with an icy stare. When you ask her what’s wrong and she answers “NOTHING!” You’re in trouble. In this case ‘nothing’ may be translated as “Read my mind, you unfeeling bastard.” The brave man would sit it out, the coward caves. She liked it much better inside.
I confess to loving the changing seasons, something I missed where the weather was constantly warm. Germany has a bunch of seasons to like. Not just spring, summer, winter, and fall. There’s asparagus season (April –June), pumpkin season (Sept-Nov), beer season (Ever heard of Oktoberfest?), new wine season (Sept-Oct), strawberry season (June), and kick hell outta the French season (no longer celebrated) to name a few.
In the United States, and I suspect elsewhere, vegetable and fruit seasons are a dying phenomenon. Supermarket chains scour the globe to being you everything you want, all the time. Pumpkins in the spring? Grapes in January? No problem. But, we lose something in the process of having everything. What if you celebrated your birthday, or Christmas everyday? I know what you’re thinking. Damn, I don’t want to get that old, that fast!
Asparagus (Spargel) served in Germany is almost exclusively the white variety. Thick, succulent, even a little sweet, the woody stalk must be peeled before it’s cooked, but it’s worth the effort. No wonder the Germans rightly refer to asparagus as edible ivory, or the king of vegetables. Spargel season is something to celebrate.
Say, isn’t white asparagus the same as green asparagus? Kinda. There’s no biological difference between white and green asparagus. The big difference is in the way they’re grown. In short, white asparagus isn’t allowed to see the sun. Lots of ways to do that. Pile dirt on it (called hilling). Cover it with a black tarp. Without sunshine, no photosynthesis takes place, hence the paleness. The result is a much milder and sweeter stalk. Because it grows longer (green asparagus must be picked young), white asparagus is larger. Here’s the bottom line for me: serve white asparagus with a light hollandaise sauce and suddenly everything else on your plate is a side dish.
Traditionally, asparagus is bundled and cooked standing up in salted, boiling water. If you find it in a market, buy it now. The season traditionally ends on 24 June, with the feast of St John the Baptist.
Want expert help in cooking and serving? Put the top down, drive to a sensational restaurant near a vineyard and pick a table inside, with an outside view. Just sayin’….
Gutshof Bauer's Stuben
Altdorfer Straße 3
67482 Venningen
Tele: 06323-27-34
