The (almost) identical twins

Normally when someone tells me “I hate ____” when talking about vegetables, the phrase is usually followed by a carefully itemized and well-thought out list of why such-and-such a vegetable is horrible, and the oft entertaining if not rational diatribes end with “…and it tastes like $^&(!” Such was the rant I received today when, while discussing various food stuffs with a colleague, I started talking about asparagus, (which I oft refer to as "sparrow-grass" becuase I enjoy wordplay hehehe).

After plucking all the knives out of my hide that had been thrown at me from dagger-eyes after mentioning my apparently horrid conversation choice, I had an epiphany. “It tastes like %@#^” is always the last thing people mention, and words like “stinky, limp, soggy, mushy” are often used to describe the cooking and texture of this vegetable. So of COURSE it tastes bad. I decided to change that tonight not once, but twice, and do it using the exact same ingredient list (almost).

First things first: the main ingredients I would go for would be baby asparagus (that’s what was looking most fresh at the store today). Also some eggs, some smoked gouda cheese, salt and pepper, extra virgin olive oil, and parmesan cheese. A few extra bits would include red onion and romaine lettuce. To be extra-sneaky, I used the asparagus spear tips in one dish and the stalks in the other.

For the first dish, I decided to go with a frittata. The second dish would be a relatively simple salad, but in order to expand my cooking technique repertoire, the egg would be poached instead of hard-cooked this time. That’s right, I’m aiming high tonight!

Frittata is a great exercise in kitchen simplicity. Saute the filling a bit, toss in an egg mixture of milk, eggs, cheese, and stir it around. Then let it cook for a bit and finish the job under the broiler. Badda-bing Badda-bang! That’s all there is to it.

For the salad, I combined essentially the same ingredients as for frittata, trading the milk for a nice crispy Romaine lettuce leaf. The biggest challenge was poaching the egg.
I had expected some grandiose operation for egg poaching. I mean, any dish that requires acidulated, boiling water before anything else happens could understandably make anyone nervous. Then gently plopping an egg into this boiling acid-bath, killing the heat and letting it sit there is also a bit disconcerting because the darn thing resembles a big, watery booger at first. But a after a short bath in this Ph-imbalanced hot tub, the end product is a creamy yolk and fluffy white. Poached eggs, a true miracle of kitchen science.

On the plate, the dishes couldn’t look more different, in both looks and flavor! The pale yellow and slightly browned frittata slice looked like a piece of breakfast pie. Little flecks of green poked out here and there, and the cheese melded beautifully with the egg. There was an unexpected sweetness to the omelet, and it balanced perfectly with the saltiness of the parmesan cheese and crunchy little bits of delectable little veggies.

The salad looked great on the plate! I must say that the poached eggs stole the show with the rich yolk and fluffy white clouds of white. The asparagus tips and red onion melded surprisingly well. I think I lucked out with this onion because it was much more sweet than hot. In both dishes, the slightly musky quality of the smoked gouda cheese was a perfect compliment, enhancing the flavor as a whole but not overpowering any one element.

Sitting at my kitchen table, my thoughts returned to my conversation past. I imagined serving these two little culinary gems and reaping heaps of praise to my friend, only to reveal that asparagus was a component in both dishes. Would there be a pleased reception? I’d like to think so, and that makes even the slight bitterness of sparrow-grass oh so sweet indeed!

478 to go.