The Sun Cove Chronicles: Praise for the Olive Woolybugger

I am a cook and my interest in fish is limited to whether they should be pan-seared or prepared sous vide.  But I was told to keep those kind of unpure thoughts to myself, if I wanted to come along on this fishing trip.  So I tried my best to do this, while observing and asking questions to try to improve my knowledge and understanding of this timeless sport.

Some observations:

One of Jack's Lahonton Cutthroats.  I think this would
taste good smoked.  I admit it. I'm only here for the food :)

1. Limits.  Although you are allowed to bring home some fish which you catch, no one ever did.  The reason: If you catch your limit (which ranged from one to five, depending on the lake), you must stop fishing and come in to shore. No one ever wants to stop fishing so it never made sense to keep any that you caught, in case you might catch your limit and have to stop.  Also sometimes the fish you catch aren't the kind that taste good. Lahontons, for example. They are big and impressive but they are not good-tasting.  (Now, Hans, don't go making any crude comments about that).

2. Woolyburgers.  These are not fuzzy hamburgers for fish.  Apparently the correct spelling is woolybugger, and on this trip there was much discussion at dinner about Olive Woolybuggers in particular.  From what I could gather, this type of fly is a good choice for use in generic situations if you don't have any flies that match the current hatch.  As for me, I was more interested in olive martinis, but I kept my mouth closed and pretended to be interested.

Paula prepares her line with a specially selected fly

3. Flies.  Fly-Fishing is not fishing while flying nor is it fishing for flies.  It is an artistic form of flicking your rod and string line back and forth with a fly on the end of the line to attract the fish. And flies are not really flies, they are little tied up knots of colored strings, feathers, and other stuff made to look like insects that might naturally appear on the lake or stream.  You want to MATCH the HATCH (don't I sound so official?) selecting a fly that resembles the insects hatching or living in the lake or stream you are fishing.  Apparently in some killjoy fashion, the regulators have decided real flies and insects would be illegal to use - too easy to catch the fish, and then what's the fun in that? The famous Ed (see my blog on Ode to Ed) gave Jack some pheasant feathers from a bird he hunted to use for fly-tying. Jack informs me that some people will even harvest road kill to get bits of fur and other treasures for their fly tying kits.  I think once I felt Jack tug out one of my longer hairs, although he denied this.  Now I know why he did it, and Jack, I forgive you.

German Brown.  Jack caught this one, which pleased me because
I was cooking an Octoberfest dinner that night and the stories went
nicely with my dinner theme.

4.  All trout are not the same.  On this trip, the team caught brook trout (the prettiest, in my opinion), rainbow trout, German brown trout, and the aforementioned Lahonton.  There might have been others too but those are the few that came with actual proof in the form of pictures.

Brook Trout

5.  Waders can be creepy.  The residents of Room 4 confessed that they were scared out of their wits one night when they exited their room to see these dead men hanging from the rafters outside Jack and Dad's rooms.

I swear Officer! He just leaped out of the brush at me!

6.  Fishing is action packed.  Really!  So much so that they even have a whole channel on TV devoted to it, if you buy the right kind of cable package.

Honest. He's not asleep! He's trolling!

Check out the whitewater as Paula knabs one!

 7.  Fishing is scenic.  This is very true, especially in the area of Washington where we were.  I have been sworn to secrecy not to mention the names of the lakes, where Hans purportedly caught 30 fish one day, and Jack snagged another 18 on a different day.

8. Fishing is competitive.  You never heard anyone at the dinner table say "I caught the least number of fish today!".  But we always knew who caught the most!  But that's the thing about fishing.  You could be in last place one day, and first place the next.  And everyone was always ready to offer advice on how to select better flies next time, or hold your line differently, or select a deeper pool or one closer to shore next time. 

She looks so beautiful, but all the while the wheels are turning....
"I am going to be #1 today! Even if I have to pop those float tubes!"

Hurry up and take the @#%*! picture so I can get back to it! Since Hans caught 30 fish yesterday, I think he is tied up to a tree somewhere today, explaining his absence from this picture.

9.  Fishing makes you hungry at the end of a long day.  Especially for wine.  14 bottles, to be exact. Plus a bottle of schnapps but who's counting?  

Bavarian soft pretzels and apple torte

Cioppino

Lemon Ricotta Cake and two types of
Foccacia Bread (but alas, no salami!)

So in closing, my advice to you is:  If  you want to relax, enjoy great company, bask in the beauty of the Great Outdoors, and come away with some great fish stories and pictures, then study up and when you're smarter than the average fish, befriend my brother Jack and beg your way onto the next Sun Cove trip! 

The Sun Cove Chronicles: Ode to Ed

Where's Ed to help carry the float tubes?

Ten years. That's how long Ed Jones has been taking trips to Sun Cove Resort with Jack and my Dad, and in later years, with Larysa, Paula, and Hans.  Ed is both an outdoorsman and a great cook, so he usually had the job of Camp Chef, a role I assumed this year when Ed could not make the trip.  But even in his absence Ed was present. 

What? No salami?

On the first night, I'd prepared appetizers of home-smoked trout, oysters, cheese, crackers, and sliced onions.  "Where's the salami?  Ed usually brings salami, we usually have that every night." Oops. My bad. The next day I checked the tiny Sun Cove Resort market, but no luck. Not even a Slim Jim.  I made a point to drive to Oroville to get some salami, in memory of Ed.  "Ed always has a steak night," I'm told as I serve a lamb dish, the only red meat meal I've planned. One day at lunch, sandwiches consisted of bread and lunch meat, and that's it. Jack forgot to set out the avocado, onions, tomatoes and lettuce.  Someone quips, "Ed would never have made that mistake. No way."  Where's Ed when you need him? 

And then there's the table conversation.  "The nice thing about having Ed here," Jack says, "is that he's the only non-Castro, so he always has something interesting to talk about that doesn't involve family gossip, our jobs, or those same old family stories that get drug out year after year." Someone jokes in a disgusting way about diarrhea in their waders.  "Too much information!! That's what Ed would say!", Paula comments.  And if Hans had popped his float tube again this year, Ed would be all over it, "That Hans is a piece of work!" So Ed, you were missed.  If a Sun Cove trip is in the cards for next year, I hope you don't let them down again.  

I can only imagine what Ed would say about this atrocity!

The Sun Cove Chronicles: From Unhinged to Unplugged

A week ago I was sitting in my office in front of my dual screen monitor working on an SEC compliance project while simultaneously monitoring the email action from one client on a laptop that was connected to their internal network, and using a second laptop to link into another client's servers to gather info for the compliance audit.  I had my iPad propped up to Skype chat with Bob on and off during the day, and my phone was also close by to easily check my company email and frequent IMs  from friends and family.  

I am a very social person and I love the internet, so as I prepared for my first trip to Sun Cove Resort in Eastern Washington State, just below the Canadian border, I was apprehensive about being out of contact for five days.  No cell phone coverage, I was told.  Wireless internet available only at the resort store, if you could get the owners to give you the password.  Jack had obtained the password years before and his phone had stored and used it, but he was unable to determine what the actual password was to give to me, so I had to ask.  The owners, Brian and Gail, told me that yes, they did now have wireless Internet, got it just this year. It was a hard decision to offer it, they said, because Sun Cove is the kind of old fashioned place where kids should spend their time jumping from the boat dock, swimming in the lake, and playing checkers on the patio, not huddled over their cell phones playing the latest shooter game.  I kind of liked that approach, except when it comes to me.  I was special (yeah - special ed my kids would always say). I wanted internet in my room so I could spend lazy days working, surfing, and chatting.  Not only did this place not offer that, there were not even any televisions or telephones that I could see.

Brian and Gail are the kind of friendly down home people you expect to see at a place like this.  But they do have their idiosynchrosies.  Like our room assignments.  There is a three bedroom cabin that Paula, Hans and I wanted to rent, from Monday to Monday.  "Sorry, we only rent from Saturday to Saturday."  No matter that the family has been coming here for twenty years and at least for the last ten, no one has ever been renting the house before. No amount of pleading or bribing could get them to change their minds. Rules are rules, and at Sun Cove, they are apparently not meant to be broken.  As a result, our party purveyed four rooms in the ten room main building.  Paula and Hans, Dad and Larysa, and Jack had rooms 1, 2, and 3.  I had room 9.  When I checked in, Brian said rooms are allocated based upon when you call and reserve.  It didn't matter that all the rooms were identical or that the other guests were arriving after I checked in - my name was written in the blotter next to #9 so that was the room I was slated for.  To change the system would just invite trouble.

1960's kitchen - with lemon cake and fresh foccaccia bread

The resort was a throwback to the early sixties, with the only major improvements appearing to be new wood-like floors and mattresses.  The coordinated turquoise Hotpoint refrigerator and electric range went well with the four person dinette set and classic ceramic dishware complete with coordinated, thick and heavy 4 oz coffee mugs, white with turquoise diamond patterns. The walls had a log cabin-style wood paneling in warm tones and the light switches were heavy and made an old fashioned loud click when you turned them on and off.  The closet emitted a slightly musty smell that reminded me of my Grandma Emma's house. The room was charming without being cheesy, old but welcoming.  It had a door on either end, and the back entrance had a screen door which opened to a covered walkway connecting all the rooms.  The screen door invited company to walk past and stop in for a chat.  This is how I met Carol, Barbara, Ted and Mike, who sat in their lawn chairs in the walkway each afternoon, sipping margaritas and watching the sun set over Lake Wannacutt.  

After a couple of days I stopped carrying around my cellphone as I walked about in futile attempts to find a signal. The phone's once urgent purpose was replaced by its mere use as a camera to record deer and sunsets.  Every time I set out from Room 9 for the for the store to use the internet, walking down the corridor past all the other rooms with their open screen doors and back porch benches, I'd meet someone and start talking and forget that I had to make a Facebook post or check some email.  After a shared glass of wine and conversations ranging from college to kitchen remodels, nothing else seemed all that important.  And somehow, my assignment to Room 9 made sense. 

Birthday party luncheon @ the Ross McDonald Company

To celebrate Garen McDonald's birthday, I brought a Mexican lunch over to the Ross McDonald Company.  I chose Mexican food because Garen always calls me Jeanner the Beaner and because I wanted to try a new method for making taco shells, since I will need to make 40 - 60 tacos for an upcoming event.  Since my husband is a sort of vegan/Pescaterian, I made a mix of vegan and seafood dishes which I thought he and his coworkers would enjoy.  I made the mini chocolate bundt cakes the night before, and made the mistake of using an egg replacement product in the cake.   The cake did not hold together; when I took it out of the pans it fell apart.  I sort of moved the pieces back together and sprinkled powdered sugar over the whole mess and we just ate it like that.  It was a fail, but it tasted good and no one complained.  I cooked the remaining dishes the next day working for about four hours from 7 AM to 11 AM while listening to some great music by Norah Jones and enjoying my very relaxing staycation.

Menu:

Crab and shrimp tacos with avocado, shredded cabbage and guajillo chile cream sauce

Enchiladas de verduras with tomatillo sauce and toasted nut topping

Quacamole dip

Simmered Heirloom Rancho Gordo Ayocote Morado beans

Mexican rice

Chocolate cake with Dulce de Leche ice cream (used regular cake mix and store bought ice cream). 

Heirloom beans

Makes 8-10 side dish servings

Cook time is 2 - 2 1/2 hours so start this dish early.

1 c (8 oz.) of Rancho Gordo Ayocote Morado beans which I bought at a specialty shop in the SF Ferry Building, but they are sold at some farmers markets and also can be ordered online.  

1/2 onion, finely diced

3 cloves garlic, minced

Bay leaf

2 tbsp dried oregano

1  1/2 tsp salt or to taste 

4 - 6 cups water

I used a clay bean pot but you can use any saucepan that will hold 4- 6 cups water and the beans.  Add all the ingredients to the pot and cover with 4 cups of the water.  Bring to a rolling boil for ten minutes, then reduce heat to medium and continue to simmer the beans at a light boil. Check and stir every half hour and ensure the beans are always covered by at least an inch of water.  After 2 to 2 1/2 hours, test beans for doneness, add salt if needed, and continue to simmer and add water until the beans are uniformly soft and ready to eat. Remove from heat and set aside until ready to serve.  

Mexican Rice.

Makes 6 cups (8 -10 servings)

Takes about 40 minutes to prep and cook

2 cups long grain white or jasmine rice

3 tbsp olive or vegetable oil

4 cups water

4 tbsp caldo de pollo tomato broth powder

1 Tbsp tomato paste

1 tsp ground cumin

Two tender center of celery stalks with leaves attached, finely chopped

3 cloves garlic, minced

1/2 white or yellow onion, minced

Heat a large skillet and add the oil.  When hot, add the rice and stir to coat with the oil. Turn the heat down to medium or medium high and continue to stir the rice for 7 to 12 minutes until it is evenly browned.  This step is very important because it gives a nutty flavor to the rice and prevents it from sticking together.  Be patient to get a nice light brown color on all your rice. While the rice is browning, mix the tomato buillion with the water and heat in the microwave for 4 minutes to blend.  Stir and set aside.   Add the garlic, chopped onions, and celery and continue to stir for 2 to 3 more minutes.  And the broth, tomato paste and cumin to the rice.  Stir and bring to a boil then reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer for 20 minutes.  Check for doneness and either remove from heat or continue to cook a bit longer until all the water is absorbed and the rice is dry and beginning to split open. Be sure to check the bottom of the pan to ensure the rice is not sticking and scorching.  

Quacamole

Makes 8-10 servings 

3 ripe avocados

1/2 tsp salt,  or to taste

1 Jalapeno pepper, minced

1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro leaves

Juice of one half of a medium lime

Mash the avocados into a coase paste and stir in the remaining ingredients.  Cover with plastic wrap by pressing the wrap onto the top of the dip to eliminate the air, until ready to serve.

Tacos:

Makes 24

1 lb  21-25 ct frozen uncooked shrimp, deveined, tails on

1 lb premium crab meat (I used chicken of the sea brand sold at Trader Joe's)*

4 large cloves garlic

1/2 cup cilantro

1/4 cup olive oil

1/4 cup butter (or Earth Balance)

2 tablespoons salt

24 small fresh corn tortillas

2 cups grape seed oil for frying

 4 oz jar guajillo cooking sauce (found at Safeway where they sell salsas)

1/4 cup vegenaise or mayonnaise

1 1/2 c shredded cabbage

2 avocados, of the correct ripeness for slicing, sliced into 12 pieces each

2-3 medium limes, cut into wedges for garnish

Prepare the tortillas.

In a high sided skillet, pour in the oil and heat to 375 degrees.  Place a tortilla in the oil and fry lightly for 10-15 seconds.  Using tongs, flip the tortilla over and repeat.  After 15 seconds, flip again and fold in half, holding open with the tongs. Cook until the side of the tortilla in the oil begins to brown, 5-10 seconds.  Flip and cook the other side until browned.  Lift from the oil, let excess oil drain off, the rest upside down on paper towels. Sprinkle lightly with garlic salt.  Repeat until all the tortillas are cooked.  Place tortillas upside down  on a baking tray and hold in a warm oven until ready to use.  

Prepare the sauce.

Mix the mayo or vegenaise and guajillo sauce together with a fork until well blended. Put into a squeeze bottle or Ziploc bag (from which you can trim the corner off to drizzle the sauce over the tacos  later). Hold in the refrigerator until ready to use.

Cook the filling.

Fill a pot large enough to hold the frozen shrimp with water, add the salt, and bring to a boil.  Pour in the shrimp and cook until they change color from gray to pink and are cooked through.  While the shrimp are boiling, finely chop the garlic and cilantro. Drain the shrimp and pat off the excess water.  Heat a skillet and add the olive oil and butter, stirring until the butter melts and begins to froth.  Reduce the heat and add the garlic, sautéing until it softens and gives up its flavor to the butter.  Stir in the crabmeat and add the shrimp, tossing to coat and sautéing for 3 to 5 minutes.  Add salt to taste. Remove from heat and sprinkle with cilantro. Keep warm until ready to fill the tacos and serve.

Assemble the tacos.

When ready to serve, assemble the tacos by placing one shrimp and a heaping tablespoon of crab meat in each taco shell. Sprinkle with cabbage and top with the piece of avocado. Place all the tacos on a platter and drizzle with the sauce. Serve immediately.

Enchiladas

Makes 1 dozen

Filling:

1/2 yellow onion, chopped

3 cloves of garlic, minced

1 poblano pepper, finely chopped

Olive oil or vegetable oil for sautéing 

1/2 butternut squash, peeled and finely chopped

1 cup brussels sprouts, finely chopped

1 chipotle pepper, chopped, and 1 tbsp of the sauce that comes with it

8 oz honey goat cheese, or for vegans, 8 oz "Follow your Heart" vegan gourmet shreds fiesta blend cheese alternative

12 large corn tortillas

Sauce:

3 cups tomatillos, about 3 lbs

1 medium yellow or white onion, sliced

1-2 jalapeños,depending on heat tolerance, chopped

5 cloves garlic, minced

1 Tbsp vegetable Better then Buillion

Topping:

1/4 c. Toasted pumpkin seed kernels

1/4 c. Toasted salted sunflower seed kernels

1/4 c. Toasted chopped walnuts

Toast the seeds and nuts and set aside.  

Prepare the sauce.

Soak the tomatillos in water for a few minutes to loosen their husks.  Remove and toss the husks.  Place the tomatillos, onion, garlic, jalapeño and Better than Buillion paste in a saucepan and barely cover all with water.  Simmer on medium high heat until the tomatillos split their skins.  Process in a blender or use an immersion blender to purée the mixture. Return to the sauce pan and continue to simmer until sauce is reduced by one quarter. Remove from heat and set aside.

Prepare the filling.

Pour 2 to 3 tablespoons of olive oil in your sauté pan and add the onions, garlic, poblano and chipotle pepper.  Sauté until the onion is softened and translucent, about 5 to 7 minutes. Add the chopped Brussels sprouts and butternut squash and continue to cook until softened,  about 7 to 10 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in half of the goat cheese or vegan cheese. 

Assemble the enchiladas.

Warm the tortillas one or two at a time on a hot griddle or cast-iron skillet. Individually dip each tortilla in the sauce and lay in your baking tray. Place 1 to 2 tablespoons of the filling down the center of the tortilla, and roll off like a cigar.  Repeat until all the tortillas are used. Crumble and sprinkle the remaining goat cheese or vegan shreds on top of the enchiladas.  Drizzle some of the extra sauce on top as well. Sprinkle with the toasted nuts.  

Note: the method described for warming  the tortillas often results in very crumbly enchiladas when serving.  If you want to ensure your enchiladas stay whole when serving, you will have to add calories by frying the tortillas until just before they start to crisp, then dip them in the sauce, instead of warming and softening them on the griddle or cast iron skillet.

Preheat an oven to 375°, and bake the enchiladas for 20 minutes just before serving to melt the cheese and blend the flavors. 

The Game Whose Name Must Not Be Mentioned

I am writing this blog while relaxing in a pale pink rose petal scented bubble bath trying to wash away the let down of the Game Whose Name Must Not Be Mentioned (at least if you care WTF the NFL says).  My Farmer's Market shopping spree yesterday fueled a cooking fiesta today.  I think I logged more yards than Peyton Manning washing, prepping, plating, and serving the bounty.  Our menu was simple because everyone is on a diet, has eating restrictions, or is saving their calories for alcohol consumption.  

The first play, a safety in favor of the Seahawks, was ushered in with soft, warm, garlic naan topped with an Indian-spiced tomato-ey eggplant chutney and cilantro sauce, some crudités, hummus, and Dubliner aged white cheddar with "everything" crackers.

The dismal first and second quarters were washed away with a couple of growlers of Altamont Shelter IPA and Altamony Mahogany Red.  I was starting to think perhaps the Broncos had chugged a few growlers of their own,  judging by their lackluster performance. If they hadn't, I bet they were wishing that had.  So much for the grand hopes of a major booty spanking that all of us Niners fans were hoping for.  As the 2nd quarter ended, we were ready to pull out the tequila with a Fireball chaser until we realized Bob won $100 in the office pool.  Some consolation, at least.

 

Finally, time for the Great National Half Time Chowdown.  Forsaking the traditional American artery clogging entrees like molten Velveeta nachos or sour cream and mayonnaise dip with onion scented chemical powder addititives, our visit to the Ferry Plaza market on Saturday inspired this menu:  soft tacos made with handmade blue and white corn tortillas, organic heirloom beans, smoked sliced portobellos and poblanos, homemade vibrant pink pickled red onion curtido juxtaposed with fresh ripe lime green avocado slices dusted in smoked sea salt, crema, and a really spicy hot green chile salsa (thanks Judy!).   We also had some coriander and oregano-brined slow smoked chicken legs for the meat eaters, and a dessert of tiny Bosc pears poached in maple-pomegranate molasses with a moist, dense whole wheat pumpkin gingerberbread crumble top cake on the side. 

The Ayocote Amarillo heirloom dried beans were really good, much different from a standard pinto bean.  Cooked with onion, oregano, and garlic, they form a dark, rich, meaty tasting broth which intensifies in flavor when cooked up in our La Chamba black clay bean pot.  The pot absorbs the flavors of the spices each time it's used, and these aromatic scents seep back into the broth, adding a depth of flavor that is lacking when a steel kettle is used.  

I made the poached pears sous vide - simple and predictable. The tart pomegranate molasses was offset by the maple syrup, and using a temperature of 175 degrees for two hours resulted in a pear that had just barely softened but still had a memory of its crunch.  I loved that we could find these little tiny sized pears at the Farmer's Market - you'd never see them in this size at the grocery store.

Alas, my bath water has sufficiently poached my feet and all the pink bubbles have lost their effervescence, so I guess I had better sign off.  Go Niners,  see you in next year's Sup3rb0w1!

Monkey See, Monkey Do

I love going to the Farmer’s market but today was especially fun for several reasons.  For one thing, the weather was beautiful and sunny.  Also - Bob was with me – a big treat because usually I have to shop alone.  But best of all, I was not at just any Farmer’s Market, I was at the CUESA San Francisco Farmer’s Market at the Ferry Building, my favorite market of all.  The shops at the Ferry Building are really fun to explore, with all my favorite vendors (think: Sur la Table, Acme Bread, Cowgirl Creamery, and stores devoted only to mushrooms, olive oil or “tasty salted pig parts” as their sign proclaims).  And the people watching is great too - this market is full of diverse vendors and lots of interesting people, especially chef-people, from big name restaurants that even if you could get a reservation, you’d have to take a 2^nd mortgage on your house to pay for the meal. 

And that leads me to the topic of cardoons.  Before today, I had no clue what a cardoon was. The name sounds like some kind of ancient Asian sailing ship or a district in Hong Kong.  When we first arrived at the market, I saw a man carrying an armload of long-stemmed greens with silvery foliage.   Later in the day, I saw another guy buying a big cart load of them.  He had boxes of other assorted produce on his cart too, so I figured he was from one of the local restaurants.  I pointed to the foliage and asked him what they were.  “Cardoons,” he stated matter of factly.  “Oh,” I replied, “What do they taste like, and how do you cook them?”  “They taste like a mild artichoke. We like to blanch them first, then sauté them in garlic, butter, and olive oil.”  Yummmm!  I love artichokes. And of course anything in garlic and butter is going to taste good.  How odd that leaves would taste like artichokes, but now that I looked closer at them, the leaves did sort of look like the leaves of artichoke plants. Being the nosy, I mean curious, person that I am, I had to ask, “So what restaurant are you buying for?  I’d like to go there and try them – they sound delicious!”  The guy looked taken aback for a minute and then he said – “Saison”.  Saison!  Saison is only one of the hottest high end restaurants in the City, on par with Napa’s French Laundry, IMHO.  I made some lame joke about not being able to ever get a reservation, and then as soon as he left I immediately bought a bundle of cardoons.  You may be saying “Monkey see, Monkey do!”  but I figured If they are good enough for Saison, then they are good enough for me.

The leafy bundle with celery-like stems are the cardoons

When I got home, I opened my iPad and immediately googled cardoons.  That’s when I learned you eat the stems, not the leaves.  Hmm.  I wish I had known that before – the stems on my bundle were really anemic looking, skinny and limp.  I followed a link and learned that the stems are covered in spines and you should wear gloves while peeling them.  Gloves?  Yikes, this was starting to remind me of my unfortunate experience trying to juice prickly pear fruits, in which I ended up with thousands of miniscule spines in my hands, forearms and stomach (don’t ask). 

I found a pair of kitchen gloves and then set off peeling the stems as described in the article. The web author’s pictures looked lovely, with nicely pared, bright green, firm celery-like stems.  Mine looked like a piece of limp, dried out celery you’d find in the back of your crisper drawer, which you have decided to clean out because it was exuding a foul smell.  Worst of all, my $4.00 armload of cardoons was reduced to about ½ cup of laboriously peeled and chopped stems.  So far, this experiment was not going well.

 

Trying to keep a good attitude, I blanched the stems in salted, boiling water, and then removed them to an ice bath as soon as they were tender.  I tasted one small piece at this point, and I have to say, it was pretty good. They had a very mild, subtle artichoke taste, with a texture like the bottom of the heart, where it meets the stem.  Next, I took a little piece of black truffle butter that I just happened to have on hand (that story is for another blog), and a bit of olive oil, and sautéed the pieces. They cooked down to about 1/3 cup but they did taste really good.  Sorry Bob, I didn’t save you any.  But you wouldn’t have wanted them anyway, given that you don’t like the flavor of truffle and you don’t eat butter.  Final Score: 6/10 – mostly because they were a lot of work for so little reward.  But – I will definitely try them again, this time I'll look for a bundle with some stems that are a little meatier and fresher.  I encourage you to do the same – if you like artichokes, you will certainly like these, and it’s always nice to have another tasty vegetable dish to add your repertoire.