Good things come to those who wait: British Asparagus

I know you can buy asparagus all year round these days, but to be honest I’d sooner poke myself in the eye with it than eat the sad excuse for the stuff imported from Spain, Thailand or Peru that's on offer year round in the supermarkets! Taste it and you’ll seriously wonder what the fuss is all about, only those with a fertile imagination could possibly identify any real flavour in it. For proper asparagus, in all its glory, you have to hold out for the British asparagus season... and until then I'd rather go without.

So the season is long awaited but also desperately short; traditionally beginning on 1st May it runs for around seven to eight delicious asparagus-filled weeks, until the end of June. For me the shortness of the season only serves to heighten both my anticipation and enjoyment of it and I can happily devour it three times a week in something resembling an asparagus feeding frenzy.

We bought our first asparagus of the season on May bank holiday weekend at The Dales Festival of Food in Leyburn. Grown by the Spilman's at Pasture Lane Asparagus, it is some of the best around and we indulged in 2 big bundles of the unmistakable thick, purple tipped spears. Britain's climate means the plant matures more slowly than it does in warmer climes and this helps to develop the uniquely delicate flavour that is so prized by asparagus lovers. Proper British asparagus has an amazingly sweet, fresh grassy taste, similar to peas - only better.
We enjoyed it simply steamed and dipped soilder-style into soft boiled duck eggs, accompanied by some air dried ham and brown bread and butter. This must be what angels eat.

Simple is best where asparagus is concerned. I love it adorned with hollandaise sauce or even just butter and a spritz of lemon. It is also great quickly griddled on the BBQ, even better served with a "fondue" of Brie or Camembert (wrap a whole cheese in a couple of layers of foil and stick it over the coals until it melts, then dip said asparagus into the molten gooey cheese!).

Another favourite is an adaptaion of Jamie Oliver's recipe for Beautiful Courgette Carbonara. Probably not completely authentic, but it is indeed beautiful and only improved by the substitution of asparagus for the courgette.

And yes, eat too much and asparagus can make your wee smell funny. It can even turn it green. The science-y bit says that this is because of sulphur-containing amino acids in the spears that break down during digestion. I won’t be giving that a second thought though as I tuck into yet another bundle of the first taste of summer. Get your fill before it's gone for another year.

Pasture Lane Asparagus
Richard & Sally Spilman Lodge Farm, Helperby, York

Held to Ramsons

Ramsons, probably better known as wild garlic (or Allium Ursinum), is an edible plant species native to the UK. What's more it is bang in season right now. It grows abundantly in moist, wooded, shaded areas and is easily identifiable by its unmistakable pungent garlicky smell and long vibrant green leaves. It carpets British woodlands throughout spring and towards the end of the season it bursts into bloom with beautiful delicate white flowers.

Foraging for wild garlic is straight forward, in fact it is so abundant that the term "foraging" really constitutes an embellishment. There isn't a need to "forage" at all; if you're out and about in the English countryside at this time of year it's almost impossible to miss. Avoid lily-of-the-valley; whilst it looks similar it is toxic, but easily distinguished from ramsons by the lack of garlic smell. Also be wary of ramsons leaves that are growing within leg-cocking range of passing dogs! You should avoid climbing fences, trampling wild flowers and definitely don't dig up the bulbs, but with the application of a little common sense and restraint there really shouldn't be a problem - wild garlic thrives and spreads rapidly so there is no issue to helping yourself.

Unlike its domestic equivalent, wild garlic is prized for its leaves rather than its bulb. The bulbs are edible, as are the flowers which make a pretty garnish, but are much smaller with no separate cloves. The leaves are very similar in taste to domestic garlic, although milder & reather more understated - despite the suggestion of pungency hinted at by the strong smell.

Ramsons have many culinary uses: the leaves are delicious raw or cooked and work well in salads, soups and stews. The leaves are wonderful cooked in an omlette or risotto. I can't wait to try this rabbit and wild garlic risotto from Gordon Ramsay at some point.

However, I was a bit short on time here so opted to make some wild garlic pesto. It will also keep in the fridge for a good few weeks.

Start with 100g freshly picked wild garlic leaves. Discard any coarse stalks, damaged leaves or any stray pieces of grass, but you don’t really need to wash it (unless you’ve picked it from road side verges or are unfortunate enough to have been afflicted with the modern day obsession with "germs"). Throw the leaves into a blender with 50g pine nuts & 150 ml rapeseed oil and blitz for about a minute until everything is finely chopped. Of course you can do this in a pestle and mortar if you prefer. Finally stir in 50-60g finely grated mature hard cheese (I used parmesan, as it was what I had to hand, but something like Quick’s goats cheese would make a great alternative and be more in keeping with the English theme) & ½ - 1 teaspoon sea salt

Fill into clean sterilised jars leaving a space at the top. Press it all down firmly with the back of a spoon to remove any pockets of air (trapped air can cause the pesto to go off). Swirl another 50ml of oil over the top of the pesto to seal the surface. When you come to use the pesto, stir it well before spooning out. Make sure the surface of any pesto remaining in the jar is completely covered with oil before you return to the fridge (this is critical if it is to keep well).

The end result is lurid green and the amazingly fresh, garlicky taste will perk up any number of dishes. I've served it dolloped onto pork chops and with bacon lardons for a pesto pasta, but it could equally be swirled into mashed potato or smeared onto pizza or a baguette for a quick garlic bread.

A Magical Mystery Tour; the Rhubarb Triangle

West Yorkshire has been the home of the ‘Rhubarb Triangle’ since the late 19th century. Despite the apparent lack of paranormal activity and notorious disappearances, the facts about this little known phenomenon are still often vague and shrouded in mystery. So in order to get to the bottom of the peculiar goings on in deepest Wakefield at this time of year we embarked on a mini rhubarb adventure.
It started with a phone call a week ahead to check availability of the tour, as advised on the website. I was told that they were very busy but we could indeed be squeezed in on Saturday 13th February at 10.30am. The booking was provisionally made and I posted a cheque at the soonest opportunity to confirm, we would then be emailed our tickets and directions to the location.
We were off to discover the secret world of the Rhubarb Triangle and to meet the ‘High Priestess of Rhubarb’!

The Rhubarb Triangle owes its name to the areas history of rhubarb growing, more specifically to its position at the epicentre of "forced" rhubarb production. The first misnomer that needs to be cleared up is its location. The Rhubarb Triangle is often described as being the triangular area between the cities of Leeds, Wakefield and Bradford (the green triangle on the map). Other sources give the points of the triangle as Leeds, Morley and Wakefield (the blue triangle on the map). However both of these claims are rhubarb (pardon the obvious pun) as the largest area of rhubarb cultivation actually falls outside both of these triangles. It more accurately covers the triangular 9-square-mile area of land formed between Morley, Wakefield and Rothwell (the red triangle on the map).

Map courtesy of Yorkshire Gardener Sue from Green Lane Allotments

In fact much of the rhubarb these days is grown around the village of Carlton and this is where we were heading.

On arrival at Oldroyd's Farm we were met by Janet Oldroyd Hulme (AKA the ‘High Priestess of Rhubarb’). The tour started with Tea / Coffee and Biscuits and then we were taken back in time to 2700BC to trace rhubarb’s ancient history. Rhubarb (actually a vegetable, not a fruit) is originally native of Siberia and since early times has been highly prized for its medicinal properties. In fact, back to the modern day and only this week it was announced that this super food has now been linked with the prevention and possible treatment of cancer.

Although not native to the UK Rhubarb was found to flourish in Yorkshire’s cold, damp soils.
The forcing process was discovered by chance in the early 19th Century, but it wasn't until 1877 that Yorkshire became the first place in the world to build special sheds to grow it in. In its heyday there were more than two hundred growers in the Rhubarb Triangle and it produced 90% of the world's winter rhubarb. It was grown, picked and whisked away to London via the rail network on the "Rhubarb Express", to be sold at Covent Garden and Spitalfields markets and on into Europe. I wondered if the trains left from Platform nine and three quarters but didn't dare to ask.
After World War II the industry sadly went into decline and producers went bankrupt or were forced to sell up as other, more exotic fruit became widely available and more popular. Now there are just a handful of growers left in the area; 12 to be precise. Leading the renaissance is the Oldroyd family, now into its fifth generation of dedicated rhubarb growers. Janet leaves you with no doubt as to her passion for this crimson stalk.

We were then introduced to the dark art of rhubarb forcing! Each winter rhubarb crowns (established root systems) are transferred indoors into dark, heated nursery sheds to be "forced". Anything referred to as being "forced" would generally have bad connotations, particularly in relation to food. In the case of rhubarb though, it describes the process of growing the plants at an accelerated rate in warm, dimly lit conditions a process that actually results in a superior product. The forced stalks are tender, sweet, and a distinctive bright pink in colour. Known as "Champagne Rhubarb", it is a seasonal delicacy and can fetch much higher prices than its more fibrous and lip-puckeringly sour outdoor equivalent that has given rhubarb such a bad reputation.
Once inside the secret word of the low, dark forcing sheds the ambiance is eerie, almost other worldly. With the giant heaters turned off, in the silence you can actually hear the rhubarb growing; it is a distinctive "pop" as the buds of new stalks burst open. The grotto-like shed runs as far as the eye can see, and the rhubarb emerges in the flickering candlelight. Janet describes it as "almost like a religious experience" and without doubt it is strangely atmospheric, even magical.

The Yorkshire rhubarb growers are currently waiting on a decision from Brussels on an application for Protected Designation of Origin (PDO) status for their crop, to allow them to officially name their product "traditionally grown Yorkshire rhubarb" and prevent cheap imitations from impostors, such as the Dutch. The decision is due in the next few days and hopefully forced Yorkshire rhubarb will then join the elite list of protected regional foods and put the Rhubarb Triangle firmly on the map.

E.Oldroyd & Sons Ltd
Carlton Village, LS26 0ST
Tours run from January to March.

Wakefield Food, Drink and Rhubarb Festival runs from 26th to 27th February 2010.