The silver lining of a tumultuous presidential election when you’re married to someone who studies fluctuation in United States governmental executive power is that folks around the world want to hear what he has to say about it in an American accent. And sometimes there are enough frequent flier miles for a lucky spouse to tag along.
So please don’t hate me when I say that as this morning’s edition of Source is dropped on your doorstep, I will be strolling the banks of the Rhone River in Lyon, France, perusing the farmers market.
There will be, no doubt, plenty of cardoons there. A heartier cousin of artichokes that resemble big bunches of wild, whiskered celery, cardoons are commonplace in France and Northern Italy, especially around the holidays.
Tim O’Brien, chef at Brunswick’s Enoteca Athena, grew up eating cardoons from his Italian grandmother’s garden in Wells. He says they taste of mushrooms and artichokes with a slight lemony undertone. In years past, he’s served them fried, in a hot spinach and artichoke-like dip, and in a traditional, savory, molded custard called cardoon sformato.
But he’s run out of local sources for this particular nettle even as midcoast Maine has proven itself to be a hospitable environment for cardoons. Cardoons grow as ornamental plants yielding a bristled, purple flower head at the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens in Boothbay and as part of a recent University of Maine Cooperative Extension Master Gardener demonstration garden at Morris Farm in Wiscasset.
Deborah Chadbourne of Rasmussen Farm and Western Maine Market in Freeman Township likes the idea of enjoying the flavor of artichoke without having to wait for a less hearty artichoke plant to flower. She’s managed to keep onecardoonplant alive for three years in an unheated greenhouse. She adds, though, that the cardoon flowers have always been better sellers than the stalks.
In the past, O’Brien purchased cardoons from Tarbox Farm on Westport Island and then Whatley Farm in Bowdoinham. Whatley Farm manager Ailish Kress said lack of demand led the farm to give up growing them this year.
The fact that they are labor-intensive to grow doesn’t help. To make them tender enough to eat, farmers must employ an agricultural technique called blanching for three to four weeks before harvesting them. This involves tying the stalks together and protecting them from sunlight by wrapping them in newspaper or burlap, like the French do, or bending them backwards and burying them in sand, like the Italians do. (White asparagus is grown according to a similar process – then again, it’s not so popular in the U.S., either.)
I’m not trying to convert you to cardoons – although if you try cookbook author Deborah Madison’s Creamy Cardoon Soup with Thyme and Hazelnuts (see recipe) you might see that particular light. Rather, the point is to push the idea of eater-supported biodiversity.
Biodiversity – the variety of ecological life – is a crucial tenet to greener eating because it provides an array of foods to eat, an assortment of species to carry out environmental services like cleaning water and enriching soil, and an ability for an ecosystem to adjust to disturbances and disease.
Eaters’ role in promoting biodiversity is to seek out a multiplicity of fruits and vegetables that thrive in their local climate.
The farmers I know aren’t making Christmas lists, but rather lists of the crops they’ll be growing in 2017 as they leaf through seed catalogs that arrive sandwiched between L.L. Bean and Lands’ End ones in the mail (although we hope they – and you – have signed up on a Do Not Mail list to avoid getting unwanted catalogs).
Most farmers are happy to talk with eaters about what’s coming down the pike and some even take requests. But if you request a crop, do so with a firm understanding that your fiduciary duty lies in buying it early and often when it finally shows up in the farmers market stall.
Christine Burns Rudalevige is a food writer, a recipe developer and tester and a cooking teacher in Brunswick. Contact her at: cburns1227@gmail.com.
Creamy Cardoon Soup with Thyme and Hazelnuts
Cardoons have thick fibrous strings that run along the backs of the stalks and little spikes that run along the front edges. Remove both with a vegetable peeler. Like artichokes, prepped cardoons oxidize, so once you remove the strings and spikelets, place the cardoons in a bowl of water that has been laced with lemon juice. If you can’t find cardoons, 2 cups of canned artichoke hearts is a good substitute in this recipe, which is only very slightly adapted from one that appears in Deborah Madison’s “Vegetable Literacy.”
Serves 6
1 large cardoon bunch, stalks separated, cleaned, cut into 2-inch pieces and sitting in 2 quarts of acidulated water
2 tablespoons flour
Kosher salt
2 tablespoons butter
1 cup chopped leek (white and light green parts only)
2 small russet potatoes, peeled and diced into 1-inch squares
1 bay leaf
1 heaping teaspoon fresh thyme leaves, plus more for garnish
3 1/2 cups chicken stock
1/4 cup canola or grapeseed oil
1/2 cup chopped hazelnuts
1/3 cup light cream
Freshly, finely ground pepper
Drain the soaking liquid from the bowl of cardoons into a 4-quart saucepan. Bring the water to a boil. Whisk in the flour and 1 teaspoon salt. Add the cardoon pieces to the pan. Simmer until the cardoons are tender, about 12 minutes. Test by tasting one. It’s done when it is not at all crunchy. Drain the cardoons.
Return the pot to the stove over medium heat. Melt butter. Add the cooked cardoons, leeks, potatoes, bay leaf and thyme leaves. Stir and cook for 5 minutes. Add stock and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Raise the heat, bring to a boil, reduce to a simmer and cook, partially covered, for 25 minutes.
As the soup cooks, combine the oil and hazelnuts in a small saucepan and place over low heat. As the oil heats up, the nuts will toast. Watch carefully and as soon as the middles of the nuts start to darken, about 3 minutes, strain the oil from the nuts over a small bowl. Spread the nuts on a paper bag to drain.
When the soup has finished simmering, let it cool for 10 minutes, then puree, in batches, in a blender. Return the pureed soup to the pot. Add the cream. Reheat gently. Season with pepper. Adjust salt to taste.
Serve hot, garnished with a spoonful of chopped hazelnuts, a swirl of flavored oil and a sprig of fresh thyme.
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