The Scape

Springtime is awash with all sorts of mysterious and strange vegetables. Not to dethrone summer, which is obviously the queen of produce, but spring is a fine court jester.

One of the things I find most satisfying in my cooking experiences is the ability to play with food. I like to find humor in what I cook and eat. Food humor isn't usually of the laugh-out-loud variety, but of the smug, coy, you'll-never-guess-what-my-secret-ingredient-is sort of humor. This is the one redeeming thing about molecular gastronomy in my mind. I have issues with the whole Food That Isn't Food movement--you know, pickle-flavored air and truffle foam on top of a sweet pea emulsion. I like to be able to chew my food, thanks. But I will hand it to those rogue chefs--they know how to play, and for that I salute them.

That's why springtime is so great for cooking. First, you have the utterly baffling rhubarb with its electric pink stalks and tongue-curdling sourness. Is it a fruit or a vegetable? What do I do with it? Then comes asparagus, poking wierdly from the soil and offering up the first fresh chlorophyll of the season. Then you have ramps and morels, both inhabitants of the woods and highly prized by foragers and gourmets alike. I try to take advantage of all these, but I have a soft spot for the garlic scape.

As a garlic bulb grows beneath the soil, it will eventually send up a little green shoot. This is the scape. The growth of the bulb will be hampered if the scape is left on the plant, so most farmers cut it off. Lucky is he who finds the scape at his farmer's market. If you eat a garlic scape raw, you'll notice that it has all the flavor of the garlic clove but without the sting. When scapes are in season, I use them raw and cooked. A raw scape is a nugget of flavor and has a lovely, tender crunch. A cooked scape is savory and slightly sweet with a tender bite. You really can't lose either way.

To accompany a stuffed leg of lamb that my darlin' cooked last night, I made a rough approximation of tabbouleh with garlic scapes. Instead of parsley, I used mustard greens for roughage. Blanching the mustard briefly before chopping it up removes any bitterness or fuzziness. And for those of you who aren't familiar with the grain, bulgur is a really fabulous addition to salads, soups, and yeast breads. It has a very slight crunch to it and a lovely nutty flavor. My favorite brand is Bob's Red Mill. It's slightly more rustic than the stuff you usually get in bulk bins.

Tabbouleh with Mustard Greens and Garlic Scapes

serves 6

Measure out:

1 cup bulgur

into a large bowl. Boil 2 cups water and pour over the bulgur. Allow this to sit for about 30 minutes until the water has been absorbed and the bulgur is softened and slightly fluffy-looking. If there is any water that has not been absorbed, simply strain the bulgur.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil and add:

1 large bunch mustard greens, roughly torn and tough stalks removed

Blanch briefly, about 1 minute. Drain and try to remove as much water as possible. I used a salad spinner, but a dish towel and a good arm will work, too. Chop the mustard finely and add to the bulgur. Stir in:

1/2 a large, English cucumber, roughly chopped

3-5 garlic scapes, chopped

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 handful mint leaves, chopped

1 handful dill fronds, chopped

3 tablespoons good-quality olive oil

Juice of 2 lemons

1 teaspoon kosher salt

Refrigerate until well-chilled.

Printemps

It would appear that spring has come for good. After a week of glorious, sunny, warm weather I find myself being mostly happy with where I am and what I'm doing, even if it gets a little boring sometimes. But the good news is that I joined a gym, and so I'm hoping that my health will blossom along with the camellias and forsythia. I'm planning on trying out a yoga class this afternoon (at least I think that's what it is--they have enigmatic names for their classes here: Bodybalance is the one I think is yoga). If it is yoga I will be one happy Ashevillain. I realize that I've gotten spoiled with things like that--my home university has 3 free yoga classes a week not to mention yoga classes that you can enroll for (and Tai Chi and meditation and...).

I've been doing yoga more or less consistantly since I was 13, so naturally I miss it when it's not there. Granted, you can do yoga alone and in pretty much any space, but I find that when I do it in my room I get distracted easily. It helps to be in a studio where's there's nothing to compete with the poses for attention. There's also something therapeutic about doing yoga with other people--you feel more energized for some reason.

It's about time for me to register for classes for next semester. I can't believe it: I'll be a senior! Thank goodness the enrollment system is simpler for my home university than it is here. Online registration is something I took for granted until I came here and had to deal with paperwork. If you've ever seen L'auberge espagnol (The Spanish Apartment in English), the opening scene shows this guy in a gigantic office building running from office to office trying to figure out where to go to get information about such and such a dossier or such and such a form. The scene is in fast-forward motion, and it's pretty disorienting, probably to highlight the difficulties of French bureaucracy. Well, that scene is not an exaggeration, as I have come to find out. Signing up for courses here was a little what I imagine running a marathon to be like, and I'm not entirely convinced that, even though I've filled out all the paperwork and turned in the forms, I am indeed officially registered for anything. I would not be surprised if, at the end of my semester, they told me that they'd lost the forms and that I am not on the record as having taken any classes. Hopefully that won't happen because that, my friends, would be the day of my nervous breakdown.

But we'll not think of that right now. After all, it is a glorious day.