Fiddlehead Ferns - Dinner or Landscaping?

At the farmer's market, I am always on the lookout for new things. I figure that this is a perfect time to explore a little new territory and discover something unusual, because everyone there is so forthcoming about what to do with it. Between the merchants and the shoppers, there is wealth of collective knowledge. Somebody is always willing to share what they know, reminisce about where they have eaten, or give you their favorite recipe. To me, this is the best part of the farmer's market concept. People coming together to buy and sell what they know and love, and to exchange ideas. You don't really find this at the grocery store, where the people working there mostly just stock the shelves. So if you are looking for people that are truly invested in what they are selling, you need to go to the farmer's market.

When I was there Saturday, I was intrigued to find tightly coiled, dark green Fiddlehead Ferns in a basket at a stand selling organic produce. I have ferns in my yard, but have always considered them to be landscaping, not dinner. The lady offered us a sample, setting off a frenzy of fern buying at the booth. While I was trying to decide how adventurous I was feeling about cooking and eating ferns, people kept rushing up, reminiscing dreamily about fiddleheads they had eaten in Maine or Vermont and snapping them up. The time for action was upon me. If I was going to join the fiddlehead fern crowd, I had to buy them now or I would be left behind. Boldly, I stepped forward and said "Yes! I will have Fiddleheads!" and bought the last of them. Excitedly, I called Mike and told him about the ferns. He asked where I was going to plant them. He sounded a little skeptical when I told him that we were going to EAT them, but was willing to give them a try.

When I got around to cooking them a couple of days later, I was a bit apprehensive. The soft glow of fern discovery had worn off and now I was going to have to eat them. When I tried them at the farmer's market, they were crunchy, tightly coiled and tasted a little like asparagus. But now they were softer and the fronds were turning brown (maybe storing them in the fridge would have helped). But I was committed - I had bought them, I would cook them, and I guess I was going to eat them. The farmer's market lady had told me to saute them in butter, olive oil and some garlic and serve them over pasta. I did, but they uncurled while they cooked and came out of the pan looking more like green octopus tentacles than ferns. Mike loved them, had seconds and invited me to cook ferns anytime. I'm not so sure - I think I like them better as landscaping. 

Comments

[Jason Truesdell]

I like them best blanched first, to set the color and to remove "aku" (roughly, bitterness, in Japanese), even if they are sauteed after that blanching phase. Mostly I prepare them in a Japanese manner, with seasoned dashi poured over them, but occasionally I've sauteed them with garlic and pine nuts.