William and Mary's new Tribe? Photo: aliciagriffin/flickr
Go spears, go! That could be a new chant for College of William & Mary students, if administrators approve an asparagus stalk as the school's next mascot.
Known collectively as the Tribe, the sports teams of the Williamsburg, Va., school have been without furry representation since a 2006 NCAA ruling eliminated its feathered Native American logo, the Associated Press reports. Since April, the school has solicited suggestions for a new mascot. Submissions close on June 30.
Of course, the school wouldn't be the first to adopt a food as its mascot ... ever notice how these anthropomorphized eats always seem to be on the offensive?
Like ramps and asparagus, morels are synonymous with spring, and an edible reminder of the season's brevity. It feels less like morels have a season than a quick, annual engagement: catching them at the farmers market is like catching a solar eclipse, or Tom Jones at the MGM Grand in Vegas.
Morels are wild mushrooms that grow in forested areas throughout many parts of the country, and generally begin appearing sometime in April. They're usually available until the early summer, but their season can vary by a week or two depending on the region and the amount of rainfall. They're slender, knobby things with intricately ridged and wrinkled skin, and look like they sprouted from the pages of the Brothers Grimm. Their homely appearance belies their heavenly flavor, which is expressed to spectacular effect in the company of dairy, fat and and asparagus. Scrambled eggs are thus an ideal way to enjoy morels -- think of it as less an egg dish than a vehicle for delivering the best of the season to your very happy stomach.
Read the recipe for scrambled eggs with morels, asparagus and spring onions after the jump.
Few things drive foodies to heights of hyberbolic ecstasy like asparagus. Its appearance each spring is greeted with a fervor that lends the farmers' market more than a passing similarity to a house of worship. It's such a widely and wildly celebrated vegetable that its name is shorthand for all that is good and hopeful and tasty about the new season.
But far fewer people recognize asparagus by its other name, Hadley grass. The relatively obscure moniker recalls the time, from the 1930s to the 1970s, when the area around Hadley, Mass., was known as one of the country's most bountiful asparagus regions thanks to its incredibly fertile, loamy soil. That era came to an end in the mid-'70s when a soil-borne fungus all but wiped out the crop and spurred farmers to plant other veggies. While there are still asparagus growers in and around Hadley, the town's name is no longer synonymous with the tender stalks that were once its grassy glory.
If calling asparagus "Hadley grass" seems slightly archaic, like calling the radio the wireless or a hearing aid an ear trumpet, then consider that it's an updated version of asparagus' even more old-fashioned nickname, "sparrow grass," which was an 18th-century corruption of the name. Whatever you want to call it, most everyone would agree that its most relevant names at this time of year are "breakfast," "lunch" and "dinner."
It's Monday morning, and we're right there with you. While propping your eyes open waiting for the coffee to kick in, do sneak a look at Orangette. It's the literary equivalent of falling asleep curled around a novel or sipping hot milk to stave off insomnia. Strangely comforting and nostalgia-inducing at once, it leaves one poised between appetites, unsure whether to roast a rack of lamb for dinner or ride a two-seater bicycle through the French Quarter taking snapshots while drinking gin lemonade.
That's how disorienting Orangette's (aka Molly Wizenberg) prose is. If you find her beautiful polaroids, winding tales and dreamy recipes (like this adapteddish of asparagus with pecorino and pooled walnut crema) insufficient, you might pop out and buy her new book. Now back to work.
I will never forget my experience browsing through the open-air market in Potsdam, Germany and discovering the culinary delights of white asparagus. My eyes were overwhelmed by the magnificent sight of thick, extremely straight white asparagus spears. That evening, I cooked this delicate white asparagus and topped it off with hollandaise sauce.
Ever since that experience, I never thought of asparagus in the same way. It went from being a vegetable that I detested throughout childhood to a respected art of nature.
April is the prime month for the asparagus season. While the evenings get warmer, the quantity of the harvest increases. There are four main varieties: green, white, violet and wild. Green asparagus is the one most commonly grown in the United States.
There are numerous ways to use asparagus in a dish. But, as we enter spring, it's time to think about refreshing salads that place this delicious crunchy vegetable at the center. Below are eight different recipes for asparagus salad:
I never thought I'd see the day when I had something in common with President Bush, but here it is. Apparently we both love asparagus. Who knew?
On the German leg of his European tour last week, President Bush commented on how great the German asparagus was, saying how much he enjoys the vegetable. According to McClatchy online, the President now has a chance to sample ten pounds of Washington State asparagus, sent to the White House by two Washington State lawmakers.
Senator Patty Murray and representative Doc Hastings are naturally proud of the asparagus from their state, as Washington provides about 40% of the asparagus produced in the US. It's one of my very favorite vegetables. I'm not sure if President Bush feels as strongly about asparagus as I do, but at least he has some taste. How do you feel about asparagus?
My love of asparagus has been well documented around these parts. But I'd like to think that even if I couldn't stand the stuff, I'd still be able to see the beauty in this picture. I find that there's really very little that's more lovely that fresh fruits and vegetables and this is a wonderful example of that gorgeousness. This display of tri-colored asparagus (with a few tomatoes that are peaking in from the corner) makes me happy (and made me briefly consider painting my living room the color of those purple-ish stalks).
All I can say is Vanessa and Dave, next time you make this for dinner, would you invite me over? What a delicious and beautiful meal of pistachio encrusted lamb and roasted asparagus! Best of all, the corresponding blog post over on What Geeks Eat (have I mentioned how much I love it when there's a blog post to go along with the pictures you all upload to Flickr?) informs me that it's a local meal. You can't get much better than that!
Are wine-lovers pretentious, easily-manipulated fools who can't tell Two-Buck Chuck from a pricey Napa cabernet? Eric Asimov inquires.
Urban farmers: now selling at your local farmer's market.
The myths and realities of organics - Curious Cook Harold McGee looks for some real information and comes up kinda empty-handed. Seems everyone has their biases.
The Minimalist does crustless quiche, in cute little ramekins. OMG, the one with sauteed mushrooms sounds so good!
It's my final semester of college, and I'm taking Literature of the Great Depression to finish my English major. I think that my professor often feels badly, though, about assigning texts that are just so darn depressing, so she often opens class with a cheerful question like, "What's your favorite type of pie?" or "What's your favorite breakfast?" Recently, she asked us what our favorite thing about Spring is, and I knew instantly that mine is the delicious new food and produce that Spring brings. Clearly, there's no better way to celebrate these bright new ingredients than with entire festivals dedicated to them! This weekend, we have homages to asparagus, seafood, beer, more seafood, seafood and (my favorite) maple.
Read on after the jump to see where to go for the party, and meanwhile check out these lovely photos from last week's Great American Pie Festival.
Last night's episode of Top Chef finally addressed the question that show has been toying with all season: Is it better to sidestep the rules and create an amazing dish, or to follow the rules and produce something mediocre? Until this episode, it seemed to me that the judges went with whichever answer matched up with the contestant who they wanted to send home (my mom accurately likened it to a card trick where you know the card before the trick starts, then "find" it through whatever means). But now they have finally established that a better dish is more important than one that follows the rules closely, and I hope for the sake of consistency that they stick by this for the rest of the season. Oh yeah, and the Elimination Challenge was nuts.
Speaking of asparagus...Most often, asparagus makes its springtime appearance in The Delicious household simply steamed with a little bit of salt and occasionally, in an omelet or frittata.
However, I will never go back to simple steaming of asparagus, nor to hiding them inside a mask of eggs after having them wrapped in slices of prosciutto and roasted. I realize, of course, that this is not a wildly innovative technique, but it is the first time I've done it and tasted it.
Now different recipes call for slightly different methods -- blanching the asparagus first, tossing them with olive oil, etc. -- but there is no need. Just trim the woody ends, wrap 3-4 stems in prosciutto, and roast in a 400 degree oven for about 15 minutes. There's no need for oil since the prosciutto's fat will render onto the baking tray, and the salty meat is enough with the asparagus.
There are several standard ways I use up leftovers: an omelet the next morning, fried rice, and of course, just re-heating whatever it was, and eating it as is.
Another thing to do is make a sandwich, and if you have leftover lamb and asparagus from Easter Sunday, throwing them together with a little bit of yogurt-turned-tzatziki makes a great pita-bread-based sandwich. Of course, in my house, we didn't actually have lamb (we didn't have a traditional ham either), and asparagus on the table gets eaten before the salad is served.
Without the leftovers to make the pitas, the only other thing to do is -- gasp! -- actually cook the meal! The California Asparagus Commission has put together a recipe (after the jump), along with a whole list of recipes for asparagus on their website.
It's my final semester of college, and I'm taking Literature of the Great Depression to finish my English major. I think that my professor often feels badly, though, about assigning texts that are just so darn depressing, so she often opens class with a cheerful question like, "What's your favorite type of pie?" or "What's your favorite breakfast?" Recently, she asked us what our favorite thing about Spring is, and I knew instantly that mine is the delicious new food and produce that Spring brings. Clearly, there's no better way to celebrate these bright new ingredients than with entire festivals dedicated to them! This weekend, we have homages to asparagus, seafood, beer, more seafood, seafood and (my favorite) maple.
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