Awakening from spring’s slumber

and a recipe for roasted asparagus and morel mushrooms with shallot-tarragon butter

To everyone new here, welcome. I’m Elizabeth, the writer of The Delicious Bits Dispatch, a weekly missive for the curious, blending discovery, reflection, and musings, always wrapped up with a seasonal recipe worth lingering over.

Mother Nature is a clever matchmaker.

Yet in the antiseptic world of the modern grocery store, we’ve long ignored her inherent wisdom. Why else would we be able to buy wooden tomatoes and anemic corn in December, or strawberries and asparagus in October? If we followed the rhythms of the seasons, the produce aisle would be decidedly less varied in the long months of winter.

We’d understand that our cold storage friends - carrots, potatoes, turnips, beets, cabbage, apples - were designed to play well together. Whether in a savoury stew, a roasted veggie platter, or a deep dish apple pie, the winter harvest is meant to satisfy our somnambulant desires for richness, warmth and depth.

A late winter chowder with all the good things from the root cellar

I can accept all of that, really I can. Still, the changing of the guard sure has taken its time in coming around this year.

A change of scenery

It’s been the dreariest of springs. Cold, wet, the sun as aloof as the prettiest girl at the dance. With every false start of a warm sunny day, the clouds have quickly followed, nascent sprouts shivering and nary a bee in sight.

You might say that it was serendipity that brought us to Italy in one of the coldest Aprils I can remember. We had originally planned to travel to Jordan and Egypt, but when the war with Iran made those plans seem unwise, Italy stepped in almost effortlessly.

Maybe it was the comfort of returning to a place we know so well, or the promise that even after so many visits Italy always surprises. But really, in my heart, I know it was something deeper — a longing to return to the homeland of my parents after being away for nearly ten years…to steal away, to unplug, wander slowly, and let beauty overcome me.

And as it always does, Italy did not disappoint. With a world of new discoveries in Puglia, it was the spring markets brimming with fresh bright things to eat that brought me the most joy.

Puglia's bounty: ferrovia cherries, barattiere, artichokes and tomatoes from sunny Sicilia. Colours as bright as the Italian flag

But when we arrived back in Toronto last Wednesday, we were greeted with the same sombre grey skies we had left behind, the thermostat an inhospitable 6C. Spring, it seemed, was still under its Sleeping Beauty spell.

Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.

—Lao Tzu, 6th century Chinese philosopher

Yet there’s a pleasure in the slowness too…the understanding that we’re not calling the shots here. It’s not nature’s petulance we’re experiencing but her selectivity, with a healthy dose of patience on the side. It matters not that my British friends have been greedily eating rhubarb for weeks. In the here and now it’s our turn to feast.

As we shake off our slumber and run gladly into spring’s open arms, Mother Nature wakes us up ever so subtly, softly, gently. Not for spring the intense flavours of summer’s sultry heat. The season’s best mirrors the fresh tender green of our awakening appetites. Sugar snap peas, ramps, artichokes, fiddleheads. The tender pink of rhubarb and the slightly spicy pale red of radishes.

And of course asparagus. Asparagus, with its stalwart spears always at attention, the king of my spring heart.

The beautiful bounty from Wooler Dale Organics

So let the revelry begin. Let me keep my fluffy blanket ready for chilly mornings, my extra socks handy, my hot tea at hand and the thermostat humming. The intemperate weather is not in my control but as spring’s offerings find their way to my table, I can feel their tender goodness coursing through my veins and I feel the gladness that only this delicate season can bring.

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Roasted asparagus and morel mushrooms with shallot-tarragon butter

serves 2-4 as a side dish

Asparagus may well be my favourite of spring’s green things. There is nothing like the squiggle of joy I feel when the first tender stalks appear at my local farmers’ market. For a few frantic weeks, it’s everything asparagus.

I’m always on the lookout for new ways to prepare asparagus. Before the season is over, I’ll be trying this salad from Mark Diacono, with its combination of asparagus, redcurrants, lemon and mint with plum & olive tapenade, and this gorgeous 20 minute penne alle bice with asparagus, walnuts and robiola from Lolly Martyn.

But no matter how I cook asparagus—in a bright green soup, baked into a quiche, or served simply with gribiche—the pairing I return to most is with morel mushrooms, another fleeting treasure of the season. Earthy yet delicate as feathers, morels are the perfect dance partner with asparagus.

A note on cleaning morels:

Those gorgeous honeycombs that give morels their unique and beautiful appearance are also perfect tiny repositories for dirt and grit. This simple three-step process takes but a few minutes. Be gentle and only clean the morels just before you will cook them.

1. Gently shake the loose dirt and debris from the mushrooms. Place your mushrooms in a paper bag and ever so gently shake. Remove the mushrooms from the bag, leaving the dirt and grit behind.

2. Give them a bath. Submerge the mushrooms in a large bowl of cool water. Gently swish them around to remove more dirt. Using a slotted spoon, lift the mushrooms out of the water, allowing as much water to drain before placing them on a clean tea or paper towel.

3. Dry the mushrooms. Gently pat the morels dry, shaking them to remove more water from the honeycombs.

Ingredients

1½ pounds (680 gr) asparagus spears, tough ends removed

¼ pound (113 gr) fresh morel mushrooms, cleaned and dried (see headnote)

4 tablespoons (56 gr, ½ stick) unsalted butter

2 shallots, minced

2 tablespoons chopped fresh tarragon

1 teaspoon kosher salt and freshly ground pepper, more to taste

1. Heat oven to 450°F.

2. Clean the morels (see headnote). Cut large morels crosswise into rings 1/4 inch wide, leaving smaller ones whole.

3. Place the asparagus and morels in a 9x13 rectangular casserole dish or rimmed baking sheet large enough to hold them in a single layer. Set aside.

4. Melt the butter in a small saucepan over low heat. Add the shallots and sauté for 1-2 minutes. Stir in the chopped tarragon, salt and pepper.

5. Drizzle the shallot butter evenly over the asparagus and morels and using your hands, carefully toss the asparagus and morels until evenly coated, then spread them into a single layer again.

6. Roast until the asparagus is starting to brown but is still crisp and the morels have browned, about 10 minutes. Transfer to a serving dish, and drizzle any pan juices on top. Serve immediately.