Who's Afraid of the Artichoke?

I am in artichoke heaven at the moment. While typing this, I will have to stop occasionally, press my fingers to my nose, and inhale deeply. Mmmmm, that’s good. My artichoke reverie was induced by six little purple beauties we bought at the feria last week and I just got around to cooking. Well, cooking isn’t really the word. I just got around to bathing them in butter, olive oil, white wine and lemon, with some garlic and purple basil thrown in for aroma. Good God, that’s good stuff. ….yum.

About two weeks ago, small – but not quite small enough to be called baby - purple artichokes began appearing at the Atlántida and Parque del Plata ferias. They are called “alcaucil”. Back in Virginia, dainty purple artichokes would be found in season at Whole Foods, for a pretty penny. I would avoid these on principal because they would most likely have been shipped from some place far away, would cost a small fortune and would never live up to expectations anyway. However, here, they are about six pesos each and were probably plucked just a day or two before showing up in the feria.

If, like many people, you are intimidated by the pokey artichokey, don’t worry and just remember that they are a great excuse to eat butter. For me they are special because when I was a kid, my mom would prepare them simply steamed and served with melted butter as a treat. Okay, any kid for whom an artichoke is a treat must be a little weird. I digress.

Back to the artichokes: Here is how I prepared them tonight:

Use this recipe if you have small artichokes. You will need:
6 small purple artichokes
1 stalk of purple basil
3 or 4 cloves of garlic
Olive oil
Butter (real butter, NOT margarine)
White wine
Lemon

First, cut off most of the stem, leaving just a stump behind. Then cut off approximately the top quarter of the artichoke. Use your judgment on this – don’t take off too much, but remove the part that you know you surely wouldn’t want to eat – the spiky top part. Then, with scissors or kitchen shears, clip off the thorny top of each remaining petal. Your artichoke will resemble a rose at this point. Then slice them in half lengthwise so you have a pretty cross-section of the artichoke.

Now, finely mince three or four cloves of garlic and fresh herbs of your choice. I chose purple basil, also fresh from the feria. Heat up some olive oil and butter in a pan large enough to hold all of your artichoke halves in a single layer. Sauté the garlic and herbs just until fragrant, then place the artichokes in, cut side down. Add a generous amount of white wine (about and 1/8 inch deep in the pan), and a small squeeze of lemon. Cover, but watch so that your pan does not dry out, or you will have a burnt mess. I let this get to the point where the liquid was nearly gone and the butter and garlic were nicely browned. This gives it a wonderful nutty flavor. At this point, add more wine (about as much as before) to deglaze the pan. Give the pan a little shake to loosen up any brown bits on the bottom. Add a cup or so of water and cover the pan, and check occasionally to make sure you have enough liquid. Add wine and or water as necessary. Your goal is to have almost no liquid left after about 20 minutes, when the artichokes will be nice and tender and ready to eat. At this point, flip them over to expose the cut sides and dab each half with a bit of butter and a sprinkle of salt (preferably sea salt, but I must admit, my good sea salt came from the U.S.) When they are cool enough to eat, you’re ready to go.

What, you are new to artichokes and don’t know how to eat them? Easy and fun. Peel off a petal. Fleshy side down, scrape off the “meat” with your teeth. Eat as you go – peel, scrape, peel another one. As you work your way to the inner petals, they will become more and more tender and you can eat them whole. It’s okay to lick your fingers once in a while too. These little artichokes don’t have any nasty chokey spiky things inside, so you can eat the whole thing. Don’t stop when you are out of leaves and just have a little stump remaining. This is the heart, the very best part of the artichoke.

Buen provecho.

Oh, and my apologies, but we were so excited about these, we gobbled them up before I thought to take a picture. Here they are, raw:

Berenjenas Bonitas

Ah, beautiful eggplants - that deep purple shine, their coy green tops, their rubenesque curves... Eggplant, known as berengena here in Uruguay, has become one of my favorite vegetables. They are available year-round at the ferias and at grocery stores and are reliably good. I have cooked a ton of eggplant and have never had a bad one here. Their firm flesh, either cooked until just yielding easily to knife and fork or reduced down to a rich, earthy mush, can take on the flavor of any sauce. However, the eggplant is at its best when its own flavor is allowed to come through, as in my current favorite recipe for eggplant. This dish is never the same for me twice. Occasionally I will throw in some garlic or sun-dried tomatoes, or use basil if I don't have mint, sometimes it includes cherry tomatoes, sometimes not. It is a versatile dish which you can alternate endlessly according to what you have on hand, or your mood.

Buen Provecho.

2-3 medium size eggplants
Half of a white onion
15-20 cherry tomatoes
2 red bell peppers
8-10 ounces of feta cheese (I buy it at the Tienda Inglesa in Atlantida)
Balsamic vinegar
Olive oil
6-7 fresh mint leaves

Preheat oven to 375 ⁰F/ 190 ⁰C
Cut the unpeeled eggplants into half inch cubes. Slice the onion thinly from end to end into half moon shapes. Cut the red bell peppers into half inch squares.
Put half of the red bell pepper, the eggplant and the onion in a large bowl and toss them with approximately 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Sprinkle with salt and pepper and toss again. Turn this mixture out onto an oiled, foil covered baking sheet and roast for approximately 30 minutes, until the eggplant is just slightly browned and tender, but not mushy.

While the eggplant is roasting, put the remaining red bell pepper into a large bowl. Cut the cherry tomatoes in half, lengthwise. Finely chop the mint and add it. In a small bowl, whisk about 3 tablespoons of balsamic vinegar and about 2 tablespoons of olive oil with a touch of salt and pepper until slightly thick. Set this aside and wait for the eggplant to be done.

Once the eggplant is finished roasting, allow it to cool for 5-10 minutes, or as long as you can stand to wait. Toss it with the red bell pepper, cherry tomatoes and mint. Add the dressing and toss until everything is coated. Then crumble in the feta cheese and gently toss.
This salad does not look very pretty in the mixing bowl, but plated it looks fabulous.