Asparagus officinalis

The end of April heralds many things in England:  continual rain, the hosepipe ban, some more rain and the onset of the asparagus season!  Most of the year we are able to buy asparagus in our supermarkets, often those who buy it pay no attention to the fact that it has been flown 6,315 miles (assuming normal air routing), from Peru.  Why do we insist on being able to eat vegetables or fruits at our taste's demand?  Surely it is simpler, more tasty and easier on the planet to eat whats being grown in our own fair land?

Asparagus is one of my favourite vegetables.  I adore its texture and its nutty taste.  It is so flexible (and I don't mean in structure) and can be steamed, par-boiled, griddled, fried, roasted and eaten raw.  It really should not be messed about with, a simple dressing of butter, and maybe some garlic and lemon if you are feeling a bit frisky.

Should we talk about urine?  Why not.  Many people find that after eating asparagus their wee smells, shall we say, unsavoury?  Indeed, Louis Lemery, in his 1702 Treatise of all sorts of food, said, "[Asparagus] causes a filthy and disagreeable smell in the urine, as everybody knows".  Apparently some people can smell this odour, and some people cannot.  It's a little bit like the ability to roll your tongue into a tube, you either can or you can't - and its down to genetics.  I, mercifully am unable to detect this offensive odour in my urine, but then I am not particularly fond of dipping my head into the porcelain bowl to savour the smell of my own wee. 

I had some proscuitto in my fridge, so I decided to wrap up each little spear with some, dowse it in olive oil and pepper and roast it until it became crisp on the outside.  I washed each spear, then bent them in my fingers until I reached the normal snapping point - this proffers one with the point at which the vegetable is still crisp (and not woody).

Pre-cooked asparagus wrapped in proscuitto

I had some fresh, red, vine tomatoes in the fridge, along with some small green chilli's and coriander.  I decided, oddly, to try serving this with a red salsa.

Fresh Tomato Salsa

•   Peel and de-seed 3 large tomatoes.  Chop quite finely.
•   Add 3 finely chopped spring onions.
•   Add a bunch of finely chopped fresh coriander.
•   Peel and mince 3 cloves of garlic.  Add to the mix.
•   In this salsa I added some chopped, peeled cucumber.
•   Add 2, finely chopped green chilli's (seeds intact).
•   Squeeze the juice of one lime (or lemon) into the mixture.
•   A good pinch of salt, and pepper should be added to taste.
•   Mix thoroughly.

It should be noted that, last night I decided that 5 green chilli's would add a delectable "kick" to my salsa.  It's funny what a can or two of San Miguel can do to one's culinary brain.  This was way too much chilli, and much milk was needed to cool the inferno deployed by this beast of a salsa.  I recommend 2 chilli's!

We had the salsa with 5 wrapped spears of asparagus last night, but in all honesty it felt like a starter.  We both needed something else to go with it.  Pleasingly, though, the combination of salsa seemed to compliment the salty ham spears and I will use this again.