There are many moments of parenting that result in
stupendous self-doubt. If you have kids, you’ll know what I mean. And if you
have kids, your moments of self-doubt are doubtlessly going to be different
than mine. That I guarantee. There is one moment, however, when I have no
doubts: serving artichokes.
“Artichokes?” you say. “How do artichokes and kids go
together?” I can’t really tell you, other than you play the hand your dealt.
Maybe your kid likes the piano. Or maybe your kid likes baseball. Or maybe your
kid likes reading. And someone else’s kid likes playing in the mud. My kids
like artichokes. At least one of them does.
A long time ago, before kids, Santa Maria introduced me to them, and we used to have them fairly often. They became notorious around our house because Nina is so
proud that she likes them. They
are, she will tell you, her favorite vegetable. Now, if you know anything about
the way artichokes are typically served, saying they are a vegetable is getting
a little into the realm of the Reagan era, when ketchup in school lunches was
allegedly declared a vegetable. I’m sure the thing that Nina likes about the
artichokes is the copious amounts of melted butter that accompany each bite.
Tonight I served them again, and Pinta, who has typically spurned them, decided to try some. When she saw the cooked artichoke in the bowl, she
said, “I thought that was a big mess of hair.” She gamely ate a few leaves, and
a bit of the heart. Maybe she’ll like them even more next time.
There is a very good reason to
introduce them around the house, even if your kid decides that they look worse
than a big mess of hair. They are odd things, and if you are not taught how to
eat them, you might not figure it out. You might end up like this grown lady,
the “Anonymous Executive” blogger, who found herself facing artichokes for the first
time at a business lunch and spent thirty minutes chewing on one leaf. At least I have spared my children that fate—even if they are still, at an age when
they should know better, struggling to use a fork. Whew.
I’m going to go out on a limb here, and give a recipe for cooking
artichokes that you might not find anywhere else. Every recipe I’ve seen for an artichoke has been full of instructions to trim the
top, trim the bottom, trim the inside, and trim the outside. I say forget all
that and just do the following. I have no doubts about it.
Simple Steamed Artichokes
1 artichoke per person
Slice about ½ inch off the bottom of each stem.
Rinse well.
Place in a pot of water and bring to a boil.
Reduce to a low boil and cook until the outer leaves come
off fairly easily, about 30 to 45 minutes depending on the size of each
artichoke and how many people you are feeding.
Serve with melted butter (with a bit of lemon in it) and eat
thusly (courteous of the “Anonymous Executive.”)
One of my son’s first foods — after his two bottom teeth came in — were artichoke leaves. My mother loved them and I grew up eating them and treasuring the heart when I finally got to it. Definitely a great kid food!
Being a finger food also helps kids with artichokes, I think. I grew up in “the Artichoke Capital of the World” (Castroville, CA), so we grew up eating artichokes, and I think I remember rebelling against them later in life, but not as a child. Only thing is, they have to be served with mayo in our house!
The title is “steamed” artichokes, but it seems like you are boiling them. How deep should the water be when you “Place in a pot of water and bring to a boil?”
Thanks!