Asparagus, Dorian Gray, and the Dirty Side of Each

Plus a seasonal martini.

I saw my first batch of local asparagus on Saturday.

At last, it’s time.

As I’ve been moaning about for weeks, spring is very late to arrive in Toronto, though I do think the elongated winter is becoming more of the norm (according to my Instagram feed, the last two years, possibly three, we’ve had a snowstorm in the first week of May, and this morning’s weather report suggests a “rare” mid-May frost is forecast).

I don’t like to eat asparagus out of season, just like I don’t like strawberries out of season – the juice isn’t worth the squeeze. The stalks are usually woody and fibrous and the flavour… what flavour? And of course this says nothing about the devastating impact of asparagus flown in from other nations, especially Peru, the world’s leading exporter, which is facing serious water and soil degradation in order to keep our collective pee in high-toned, aromatic form.

French bag, orange tulips, fresh asparagus. How chic am I?

But on to happier matters: local asparagus is back, and will be going strong until June. And here’s a fun fact I discovered: 90% of asparagus grown in Canada is the “Guelph Millennium” variety – a hybrid species developed at the University of Guelph to withstand cooler climates. I was raised in Guelph, and my shadow did darken the U of G campus, so naturally I feel a certain pride about this, the same way Canadians like to let everyone in ear shot know which popular celebrities were raised on our home and native land (Ryan Reynolds, Ryan Gosling, the Schitt’s Creek cast… I could go on, but you catch my drift.)

Did you know 40% of Americans don’t think audio books “count” as reading? (No stats on what Canadians think, but what else is new?)

I’m not one to get into fights with strangers on Reddit threads, but between you and me, I think that’s bullocks. Hogwash. And, if I may go so far, codswallop. (I just finished listening to The Hound of the Baskervilles, probably the most famous Sherlock Holmes caper, and I’m really digging Victorian English, ATM. I haven’t taken up cheap cocaine and designer tobacco yet, but, give me time to find an aging man servant to deliver my snuff on an etched silver tray.)

A statue of a Sherlock Holmes in London, England.

I loved afternoon story time as a kid, and was especially thrilled when we had a rare visit to the school library to be read to by Mrs Young, our perennially sunny, Rubenesque librarian. Gathered around her feet, it wasn’t hard for me to lose sight of the pastel-painted cinder block walls of cheap and sturdily built public school architecture, and instead see myself on a yellow brick road, helping Pa hitch up a wagon outside our little house, or, my best friend, Soup, regrettably giving me the shortest haircut of my life just so we can spend my haircut money on candy.

In my world, audio books count. Luckily for me, the big brains at The Harvard Gazette back me up. Cognitive neuroscientists say listening or reading, the learning and comprehension is the same. So, there!

The Strand, in Victorian London, is mentioned a lot in both Dorian Gray and Sherlock Holmes. Quite the place to see and be seen.

Classic novels are especially good on audio, mostly because they all seem to get wisened British actors to read them. I’m now midway through The Picture of Dorian Gray, and it is laugh-out-loud funny. I seriously guffawed on a crowded subway more than once, and then felt immediately superior to that I was listening to literature while the plebes around me flipped endlessly through Instagram reels, of which each one got approximately 0.001 seconds of their attention. And you, too, dear reader, will become as insufferably smug as me if you start listening to BAFTA-winning Brits read the esteemed classics.

It’s possible my conceit stems from the acerbic, yet genius, influence of Oscar Wilde; he has such good burns. A description of Lord Henry’s wife goes something like this: she tried to look picturesque, but only managed to look untidy….with a perfect mania in her dedication of going to church.

While the characters are often inviting each other to dinner “at the club,” generally before taking in the opera (as one does), sadly, food is left out of the overall story. Even though TPODG is themed on indulgence, delight, and superficial beauty, Dorian’s preferred ingestibles lean more to champagne, opiates, and cigs. I swear to God, we could have been best friends.

While it’s unclear what Dorian, Basil, and Henry supped upon, I’m stuffing my face with asparagus – I’ve had four meals of it since my Saturday afternoon discovery. Your inbox and social media feeds are probably overflowing with ideas for asparagus as well, and as much as I love a good band wagon, I won’t add more to the pile. At least not now.

I’ve linked some past pieces where you can find my absolute favourite asparagus bisque (really, really good), asparagus salad, asparagus and smoked chicken linguine in lemon cream, fingerling potato, white bean and asparagus salad with garlic scape pesto, asparagus bruschetta, and asparagus with tagliatelle in shallot butter sauce.

But let’s talk about drinks.

Asparagus Gibson

Like any qualified drinker who takes their cocktails seriously, I have serious opinions about martinis.

I generally prefer gin, and lean towards a 50/50 martini – an equal blend of gin and vermouth. Occasionally, I’ll go in for a Vesper, which adds a splash of Lillet blanc to a gin and vodka mix; and if some dullard forces me into a vodka martini, then my preference is for Zubrowka Bison Vodka, as it’s smooth and delicate with no harsh notes, and I like it with a fat lemon peel. (Not sponsored, but Zubrowka, if you’re listening …)

Anyway, I don’t think too much of the, super-dirty-in-every-way-imaginable martini recipes that are currently in vogue. Especially the blue cheese stuffed olive one. Looks like someone horked in your glass.

But, I also don’t like to be left out of a (good) party, and I don’t have a painting in my attic which can take the brunt of my social missteps on my behalf, so, in order to get along, I offer this spin on the Gibson martini (a martini that’s usually served with a cocktail onion).

Ingredients:

• 2 ½ oz gin or vodka

• ½ oz dry vermouth

• ½ tsp asparagus pickling liquid

• Garnish: pickled asparagus spear*

How to Make It:

1. Add the gin (or vodka), dry vermouth, and pickling liquid into a mixing glass with ice and stir until the ice no longer resists and the liquid is very cold (about 20 seconds).

2. Strain into a chilled coup.

3. Garnish with the asparagus spear.

Quick-pickled asparagus

This basic recipe works with most vegetables: beans, onions, carrots, bell peppers, cucumbers… you know, vegetables. If you want to zhuzh it up, throw in some garlic cloves or hot peppers or dill weed, but I like this for simplicity.

Ingredients:

• 1lb trimmed asparagus spears

• 1 ¾ cups distilled white vinegar

• 1 cup water

• 1 tablespoon salt

• ¼ cup white sugar

How to Make It:

1. Pack asparagus tightly in a clean and sterilized canning jar.

2. Combine vinegar, water, salt, and sugar in a saucepan over medium heat; bring to a boil, dissolve the sugar and salt.

3. Pour the hot vinegar mixture over the asparagus. Run a butter knife or chop stick around the insides of the jar to release any bubbles. Allow to cool on the counter, then screw on the lid and place in the fridge.

4. You can eat these almost immediately, but they’re better the next day, and days after that. They’ll last in the fridge for a few weeks.