So the other week I wrote about a ‘Spanish brunch‘. I’m all for embracing other countries and cultures, me. But there’s also a time and a place for patriotism, jingoism, extreme nationalism, whatever you want to call it.
Right now (early-mid April to June) is one of those times; it’s Sparrow Grass season people.
We grow the best asparagus in the world. Fact. And in my completely biased (but also completely justified) opinion, the best of the best comes from the Vale of Evesham in Worcestershire.
It’s a travesty that tasteless, wan and sub standard varieties from Peru, Mexico and Egypt are being sold at the moment. In fact, foreign asparagus will often be easier to come across than our varieties over the next 6-8 weeks. Feck’s sake TescoWaitroseSainsburysAsdaCo-op. Sort it out.
We must play our part too and only buy asparagus from Evesham (…or Suffolk, Sussex, Warwickshire, Lincolnshire etc). Ignore all else. The home grown stuff really does taste better [and turn your pee green].
Once puchased, eat as soon as you can; the best flavour will be gotten when the asparagus is at it’s freshest. Simply boil the little green spears in salted water and serve with butter and cracked pepper, or maybe as soldiers for a soft boiled egg.
Or wrap in Parma ham and roast. Or griddle. Or add to a risotto with some lemon or mint. Or have as a vegetable side dish with peas and mange-tout and more butter…
Or, as I did the other day, you could sort yourself a thoroughly English brunch, layering tender steamed stems of asparagus on top of a sliced buttered muffin and a couple of pieces of dry cured smoked Wiltshire ham, and just below a poached egg. Pip pip.