It Pays to Ask

Around this time last year foodblogs galore teased me with posts about fiddleheads, but in spite of scouring my local farmer's market, I couldn't find any.

This year I asked. I'm so glad I did.



The lady I spoke with said she knew someone who might have them. The following week she telephoned me to say that she was able to get them. I bought a pound.

Fiddleheads are young ferns that are edible when young, though this wikipedia article indicates past cases of food poisining as a result of consuming them in New York state. It also suggests cooking them the same way old-timers say all wild greens should be cooked: boiled twice, water changed discarded in-between. Hmm. Maybe I should have read first.

Personally I just love the name. Fiddleheads. Probably because it resembles the business end of a violin. Did I ever tell you I played violin in school? Yep. I was concert master in my high school orchestra. Haven't played since.



Anyhoo, I acquired this pound of fiddleheads, got them cleaned up and braised them with cut-up ham and shallots in a cup of chicken broth.

They were, well, how do I put this? They're not quite to my taste. They're very green tasting. Asparagus certainly comes to mind, in a way. I tried them before they were very soft and didn't like the taste at all. Cooked to fork-tender, they were better. Still, it wasn't really something I enjoyed. It was more for the experiment factor. And now that I've tried them, I can be satisfied with that.

The take-home message, though, is that even if you don't see something at the farmer's market doesn't mean it's impossible to get. Ask. You'll be surprised. I was.