Wild Asparagus part 1 - Wild Asparagus Frittata Recipes
Orderly wild asparagus from the greengrocer
I doubt that foraging would count as an essential reason to leave the house under coronavirus lockdown rules in the UK but here in the south of Italy many see it as a ‘situation of need’ or indeed as a ‘health reason’. Right now fields are rife with wild asparagus, and what right-thinking Italian would let that go to waste? No problem with social distancing out there, either.
Virtuously I haven’t joined the throngs of foragers but I have been the beneficiary of their enthusiasm. I snaffled an orderly bunch of asparagi selvatici from the greengrocer at the bottom of the hill, then a few days later a plastic bag stuffed full of tangled twisting stems was thrust upon me by a friend. At arm’s length of course.
Disorderly wild asparagus
The two look distinctly different. Orderly bunch must have been picked when they were young and ramrod straight, with a close resemblance to cultivated asparagus, just thinner and darker in colour. The taste is decidedly asparagussy with a fetching hint of bitterness to them, a tad less sweet and juicy. Disorderly tangled ragbag, on the other hand, is mostly vivid green, has barely a straight stem to its name, and sports any number of thready side shoots. This stuff is a few days more mature than orderly bunch, has experienced a longer wilder life and in my opinion is all the better for it. (kind of like human beings; I’ve always preferred the less orderly ones). Sure, it takes more work to extract the tender tip, there’s more woody stem in the bin, but the flavour is bigger, more asparagussy still and has just the perfect, clear bitter edge to it.
As usual local opinion varies on how best to use it. Almost everyone votes keenly for a frittata, but the thorny issue of cheese (none/Parmesan/Pecorino) divides them again. Wild asparagus with pasta? NO, NO, YES, YES. Just blanched and served with olive oil and a spritz of lemon? Yeeees, but not so sure about the lemon. Roast or grilled with olive oil and Parmesan? Foreigners are just weird (full agreement on this one). I don’t even bother querying stir-frying or dousing in melted butter.
So far, so expected but the big discovery, the one that knocks me for six, is the epic frittata made by Loredana. Loredana is small, dynamic, bouncy, hoots with laughter, and makes her own sourdough bread. She also makes a frittata with the most delicious, crunchy crust to it. I am in love with both of them, and her, at first bite. I quiz her on how she gets it like this. I have never tasted a frittata as good before.
The key, she explains, is bread. Just like when you make polpette di pane. You soften it in warm water, squeeze it dry, then beat into the egg and cheese (oh yes, she’s all for the cheese) mixture before adding a mountain of lightly cooked wild asparagus. It sounds so simple, but it takes me four attempts to get it any where near as good as hers. Once this coronavirus thing calms down, I’m booking in for a full instruction from the lady herself. By then, of course, there won’t be a shoot of wild asparagus left in the land, but the principle will, I assume, remain the same whatever vegetable goes into the mix.
How to Prepare Wild Asparagus
and What to Use When You Can’t Get It
The first thing to do with your wild asparagus, or indeed any asparagus, is to give it a good rinse under the cold tap, paying particular attention to the tips. Shake off what moisture you can and leave to dry if you are going to fry or grill it.
Wild asparagus has a bigger proportion of tough woody stem than cultivated. Since it is thinner, it is pretty easy to feel your way down to the point where it is beginning to toughen. Snap the hard stuff off and discard. If it is beginning to sprout spindly side shoots, check these out. Some will be fine to add to the pot, but others will be wiry and should be rejected.
When you can’t lay your hands on wild asparagus, i.e. most of the time, you can replace it with ‘sprue’, the thinnest, early cultivated asparagus that used to be sold off cheap, but now gets a cute-factor price hike. It doesn’t have the wild bitterness, but it tastes good anyway. It may need a minute more cooking time.
Just to confuse the issue further, Bath asparagus, which makes an occasional rare appearance in glamorous greengroceries, may also be labelled ‘wild asparagus’. It isn’t. Its botanical name is Ornithogalum pyrenaicum, it’s worth trying if you see it, largely because of its natural elegance. It looks like a miniature green, stylised blade of wheat. It would work admirably in the pasta recipe in part 2 but would be totally wasted in a frittata.
Bath Asparagus
Wild Asparagus Frittata 1
This is a classic frittata, just eggs, veg, cheese and herbs. I was heartily pleased with it until I tasted Loredana’s star turn. Cooking the asparagus first with oil and then adding a splash of water to soften it means that you preserve every last mite of its flavour, instead of abandoning it in a pan of bubbling water. It works just as well with sprue as with wild asparagus. For thicker asparagus, add a little more water, and stir around once or twice as it softens.
Frittata attempt one
Serves 2 as a main course, 4-6 as part of an antipasto
100-130g trimmed wild asparagus (or sprue)
4 Eggs
15g Freshly grated parmesan
2 tablespoons finely chopped parsley
Leaves of 2 sprigs of mint, finely chopped
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper
Heat a tablespoon of olive oil in a small frying pan (24 cm diameter) over a low-moderate heat. Add the asparagus and fry gently for a minute or two, turning the stems so that they are all coated in oil. Now add 3 tablespoons water and a little salt. Cover and leave to simmer for 4-5 minutes. Remove the lid. If there is still some water left in the pan, cook for a few minutes more to drive off. Now scoop the asparagus into a bowl and set aside. Don’t wash the frying pan yet.
While the asparagus is cooking, whisk the eggs with the parmesan, parsley, mint, salt and lots of pepper. Stir in the cooked asparagus as soon as they are tepid. Return the frying pan to a lively heat, add another tablespoon of olive oil, and get it spanking hot. Pour in the egg mixture. Stir the mixture briefly, then reduce the heat slightly and leave to cook for 3-4 minutes until the underneath is browned, and the top is almost but not quite set. .
Loosen the edges with your spatula if necessary, then cover the frying pan with a large lid and with a quick flick of the wrist, invert the two together so that the frittata drops onto the lid. Return the frying pan to the heat, add the last tablespoon of oil and once it is hot slide the frittata back into it. Cook until the underneath is golden brown. Slide out onto a plate and eat warm or at room temperature.
Wild Asparagus Frittata 2
For the moment, this is the closest I can get to Loredana’s fabulous frittata. The bread needs to be top notch (sourdough works really well), but stale is fine. Be brave with the heat and the oil.
Serves 2 as a main course, 4-6 as part of an antipasto
2 thick slices of good quality bread
100-130g trimmed wild asparagus (or sprue)
4 Eggs
15g Freshly grated parmesan
2 tablespoons finely chopped parsley
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper
Trim the crust off the bread. You will need 60-80g crust-less weight. Tear up roughly, and soak in cold water for 4 or 5 minutes. Drain and squeeze out most of the water.
Heat a tablespoon of olive oil in a small frying pan (24 cm diameter) over a low-moderate heat. Add the asparagus and fry gently for a minute or two, turning the stems so that they are all coated in oil. Now add 3 tablespoons water and a little salt. Cover and leave to simmer for 4-5 minutes. Remove the lid. If there is still some water left in the pan, cook for a few minutes more to drive off. Now tip the asparagus into a bowl and set aside. Don’t wash the frying pan yet.
While the asparagus is cooking, beat the soaked bread with the eggs, parmesan, parsley, salt and lots of pepper. Break the lumps up as you mix to produce a thick and fairly homogenous mixture. Stir in the cooked asparagus as soon as they are tepid. Return the frying pan to a lively heat, add another tablespoon of olive oil, and get it spanking hot. Pour in the egg mixture. Stir the mixture briefly, then reduce the heat slightly, cover with a lid and leave to cook for 3-4 minutes until the underneath is browned, and the top is almost but not quite set.
Loosen the edges with your spatula if necessary, then cover the frying pan with a large lid and with a quick flick of the wrist, invert the two together so that the frittata drops onto the lid. Return the frying pan to the heat, add the last tablespoon of oil and once it is hot, hot, hot, slide the frittata back into it. This time keep the heat high, and without a cover until the underneath is a richly browned and crusty. Flip out onto a plate, crusty side up, and eat warm or at room temperature.
In my next post I’ll be posting a recipe for a Taglioline pasta dish with Wild Asparagus, Mascarpone & Lemon.
Enjoyed this recipe? browse more classic Puglian recipes in the recipes category.
Follow on Instagram, Twitter or Facebook for regular updates, or subscribe to our newsletter.