nwafoodie.jpg "fiddlehead ferns (c)nwafoodie")
Tonight, I stinkin’ did it.
I bit the bullet and splurged on the $4.99 package of fiddlehead ferns.
Yeah, I stinkin’ did it.
These gorgeous otherworldly tightly wound shoots from the foraged fern plant only come around for a brief moment. I have lusted after them in magazines as they mocked me in their elusiveness. I have pondered often whether they taste earthy, or bitter, or too delightful to describe.
Oh, I’ve tasted their goodness.
And Lyndi likey.
Now listen to me real carefully. Pay attention. This is serious talk coming your way. The time is now. If you’re reading this and you live right next to The Fresh Market in Rogers you have a few minutes before they lock their doors tonight to act on this. The rest of us, tomorrow will do. Thursday maybe.
Run. Don’t walk.
Buy the fiddlehead ferns.
Be delighted at something so simple and marvelous can deliver such an intensity of perfectly balance taste. It’s neither bland, or bitter, or sour, or off. They taste like the most marvelous perfect taste. Full of depth and character.
Wondering how in the world you cook fiddlehead ferns?
It’s easy.
Simply wash, wash, wash under a cold stream of water as you brush away any dangling wilted fern leaves. Do a quick snip-snip-snip of the ends. Lay them on a cookie sheet in a preheated 450-degree oven for three minutes. This will get them awake and ready for what comes ahead. Open the oven and drizzle olive oil and sea salt over them and continue roasting for another five minutes. Almost done now. Open the oven again and add pepper, garlic powder, and lightly grated parmesan cheese. Oh my, you are so close to tasting these perfect morsels of goodness. Three minutes later, turn off oven and slide them lovingly onto your awaiting plate.
Give thanks.
Taste.
Savor.
Your fiddlehead fern time is now.
Go get ‘em!
Eat well, my friends. Eat well.
Lyndi
