I never understood why someone would eat nasty things like pigs feet, liver, or mashed potatoes. People are weird in their food preferences. My brother in law likes kim chee. Kim chee is, as far as I can tell, fermented cabbage. Okaaaaay. Now, fermented grape juice I can deal with, but cabbage? ewwww! Another one that I found bewildering is fermented mare’s milk. It just seems to fall under the “But, why?” catagory. Maybe people were willing to ferment anything to get some joy juice.
Anyway, my “but why?” food is artichokes. Lob those puppies in a big pot of water, throw in some butter, salt and garlic, boil the jeepers out of ‘em and yummmm.
Now, granted, fat, salt and garlic improve pretty much anything. You slather enough of them on and even baked potatoes are edible. I am not brave enough to try it with kim chee, however.
Usually, the appearence of food is important to me. I find facing the odd green paste of guacomole rather daunting. Also, I don’t particularly like ice cream cones because they are so messy and sticky. Peanut butter took half a lifetime to face with any enthusiasm.
But, for some reason, artichokes just speak to me. I think they whisper memories of my childhood and my mother cooking them and then eating these strange, prickly, wonderful things. So, even though they are messy, slimy, and green, artichokes are one of my absolute favorites.
Thanks, Farmer Monte!
