Wild Asparagus

Not only did I not get my camera out fast enough to photograph the pheasant (see blog below) on my afternoon walk yesterday, but the wild asparagus I was hoping to find, was equally elusive. Then today when I went into my favourite green grocer, tucked next to the till was a plate of asperges sauvages with their thin stalks and delicate heads.

I asked for several stalks, and the owner, Elisabeth, added them to my artichoke, apples and spinach. “Jean-François brought them in just a short time ago.” That is a common name, but she held her hand at a height that told me school child. In this region children have Wednesdays off.
“You must eat them today. Lunch would be better than tonight.”

“Have no fear. From this plate to mine.” I lied. They had to rest on my fridge for the few minutes it took to boil the water.

Usually I love hollandaise with asparagus but these were too good to corrupt with anything. So thus I sit writing this and nibbling on tiny bites of asparagus to make it last as long as possible. It is not a treat that I can experience often.