artichokes

One of the best parts of moving to California was discovering the artichoke. I mean, Cali has many great “A” veggies to offer – artichokes, asparagus, avocados - but the artichoke is special. I didn’t grow up eating them. Not sure why – maybe my parents didn’t like them or maybe they just weren’t available in Oklahoma. My guess is the latter, considering that most of my Oklahoma fare consisted of beef and potatoes. I can imagine the general sentiment there being, “What the hell’s an art-ee-choke?”
If you’ve had the pleasure of eating an artichoke, perhaps you can understand why it’s my second favorite food (number one is bacon, but that’s for another story). Though typically a frugal gal, I’ll spare no expense when it comes to having artichokes on a regular basis. Sometimes they can be quite pricey, but I don’t look at the cost much, unless I happen to notice that they’re two for $4.00, in which case I do some little cartwheels in the produce aisle and buy six of them.
In my Clark Kent hours, I work as a Nanny. I take care of an adorable four-year-old, who seems to have an aversion to anything green. But I did not let this fact daunt me; I knew that the artichoke could get through. And indeed, it proved itself as the only vegetable worthy of Katie’s affection. We’ve even started a club for artichoke lovers, which includes Katie, her baby sister and myself: “’A’ is for artichoke!” It’s not the least bit surprising that the artichoke can warm the heart of a small child. Not only is it delicious, it’s pretty much the most fun food around. Who can resist picking off each leaf and scraping the ‘meat’ off with your teeth, then getting to throw the used leaf into a pile? And don’t even get me started when there are dipping condiments involved…
And now for the less obvious, but very valid reason for my adoration: the word “art” is in artichoke. The artichoke itself is a work of art, as well as inspiring many works of art (including this blog post - ahem). It inspires me every time I eat one, to the point of thinking it might be better to just put it on the counter and gaze at it. In fact, if left un-harvested, the artichoke will bloom with a large purple flower head, finding relevance for its floral display in addition to its yumminess-factor.
As a lover of art and beauty, I constantly look for metaphors in life. Everywhere we look, we can see an image of some profound aspect of life. The artichoke is no exception. It’s covered in prickly spines, waiting to draw blood from the enthusiast. Yet to get the heart of it, you have to get past those spines. You also have to scrape away the yucky little stringy things (the choke) that are attached to the heart. But once you get there, it’s the most succulent part of the vegetable, and worth all the work.
Now don’t thank me for all of these insights, just be on the lookout for a sale at Whole Foods and pick up one of them art-ee-chokes. See for yourself.