The Definitive Spring Vegetable

After the long winter of pale vegetables, the first sign of green in the kitchen is always eagerly awaited. I love to see the young shoots of sweet pea tendrils, green garlic, and spring onions, a few leaves of stinging nettles, but most of all, crisp spears of asparagus. Regarded as a delicacy since the time of Louis XIV, this has become the most ubiquitous of spring vegetables. Asparagus comes from a fernlike perennial plant with an underground stem. The stem, or crown, produces edible shoots that are harvested from six to twelve inches in height. It thrives in cool climates and sandy soils from mid-April through June.
In Europe, particularly France, Germany, and Belgium, they cultivate a white asparagus by gradually banking the soil over the shoots as they grow. This technique prevents the photosynthesis of chlorophyll, yielding the highly prized, blanched asparagus. These white spears are much more brittle, so if you buy them at the market, handle them with care. They are gaining popularity in the United States, but at present only in restaurants and specialty markets. The extra labor involved in cultivation makes them considerably more expensive. Those who prefer white asparagus swear it is worth the extra effort. So beloved is the vegetable in Alsace and western Germany, the entire season seems to revolve around it. When I was working in Switzerland, where they simmer the stalks in water with salt and a little sugar, they even drink the cooking liquid with a squeeze of lemon as a digestive. It tasted to me like an asparagus hefeweizen.
When buying asparagus, pick out smooth, brightly colored spears with tightly closed, firm, nascent tips. Fresh asparagus is sweet, and has the feel of squeaky, wet rubber. Old asparagus will begin to look wrinkled at the base, where it is dehydrated, or the tips will have begun to bolt, or flower. The leaves will be elongated, opening and spread apart. These spears will be tough, bitter, and faint of flavor. If you see asparagus at the market, still gritty with clinging soil and sand, with firm spears at the base, and a flat, green hue, do not be reluctant to buy them. The few moments it will take to rinse could be rewarded with a sweeter flavor. Like many vegetables, the natural sugars begin converting into starch the moment they are harvested, so the fresher the better.
The stalks vary in size, from pencils to cigars in thickness. As to a preference for thick or thin spears, it depends on what cooking method you intend. The thin stalks are ideal for grilling, stir-frying, or pan searing, which gives them a wonderful earthy and herbal flavor. I prefer the thick spears, which have a more pronounced grassy flavor, but some people don't like the extra step of peeling the skins from these larger stalks.
To peel thick asparagus with a swivel peeler, pinch the tip and peel off the fibrous layer, starting one or two inches from the tip toward the butt. Grab the root end and bend it sharply, it will snap off the woody stem at just the point it is too tough to eat, and it's ready to cook.
When cooking asparagus, eggs have long been considered the perfect compliment, whether in an omelet, baked into a quich or a frittata, poached or fried over easy with some mushrooms. They are especially good with spring morels or porcini, if you can find them. The Europeans love asparagus with a thickened egg sauce, whether it's mayonnaise, hollandaise, or maltaise, used almost exclusively for asparagus, which is hollandaise finished with blood orange juice. My grandmother used to serve it over toast with a cream sauce, and on warm spring days, my friends look forward to my asparagus soup, which is more or less of an asparagus vichyssoise. Asparagus shines in simple preparations as well. Toss with olive oil and throw them on the grill with chicken or sausages and drink a hefeweizen.

David Padberg, chef de cuisine