The Monster in the Garden
Did you know the artichoke is a thistle? If you look up the history of this strange vegetable, you'll get all kinds of great facts. There was a mobster in New York in the 1920's who sabotaged the artichoke market by buying all of them that entered the city, and then selling them for a 60% percent mark-up. Mayor La Guardia banned the sale of artichokes in there, but the ban only lasted a few weeks because he happened to love them.
Marylin Monroe was crowned the first Artichoke Queen before her career took off. You can read about the ancient Greeks and Romans who imbued them with magic powers. Women were denied artichokes because they were thought to have aphrodisiac properties, and, well, that spelled trouble for those guys.
What I really want to know is how on earth did people figure out you could actually eat them? Look at the thing. A pinecone! A chrysanthemum! A cactus! How did they know to pick off the tough leaves and eat the tender tip? And then there's the heart, hidden under layers of fluffy prickly stuff you have to scrape off. It's the craziest thing ever! Maybe some starving caveman saw a deer eating one out in a field, so decided to try it too. You know they're amazing the way they grow in nature, like giant statues 5 feet tall with fluted purply leaves and the big round globe on top. My friend Mel has a fountain in front of his building shaped like this. The water shoots out of the top, trickles around the leaves and falls into a basin below. It's the only way I recognize I've arrived at the right place since the block is one identical condo after another. I hate this part of L.A. West Hollywood is a neighborhood so crowded and awful I would completely avoid it, were it not for Mel. Once a month I make a simple lunch, sandwiches and a salad, and bring it to him there in the artichoke building. It's a friendship that's unique and probably baffling among my younger friends. Mel is 94 and finally stopped driving, thank God. He's housebound except for doctor visits, which are frequent. We always seem to have a lot to talk about though, even though his days are very quiet. The talk is philosophical. 'Is there an afterlife? 'Is there a God?' 'Is life even supposed to be happy?' We talk a lot about money. It seems like Mel still thinks it's 1952. I shock him when I tell him that gas costs $5.00 a gallon around the corner, or a tiny can of cat food is 89 cents. He then will offer to lend me money, which I always refuse, explaining that I'm doing fine. He's a lot like dad was. When I leave him, I feel uplifted each time, with much to think about, and a feeling of deep acceptance of myself, of him, of existence.
So, the best way to eat an artichoke is not by dipping it in melted butter. Lobster you can dip in melted butter, but an artichoke? You need mayonnaise. Not the stuff you buy in a jar at the supermarket either, but your own home-made variety. This is a fabulous tarragon mayo that's very easy and very special. You could even skip the artichoke and just eat it with a spoon.
Tarragon Mayonnaise
2 tablespoons rice wine vinegar
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
Juice of one small lemon
2 egg yolks (the freshest you can find)
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar
½ teaspoon dried tarragon
1 cup canola oil
Put everything but the oil into a food processor. Pulse several times until everything is incorporated. Then, with the machine running pour in the oil in a slow steady stream. The stuff will emulsify as you add the oil, but this isn't like the thick Noxema-like mayo you get in a big jar. It's rather thinner, perfect for dipping. Dipping anything.
A word about tarragon. It's an extremely strong herb, so don't go overboard with it. The flavor will also imbue into the sauce as it sits in the fridge, which it can do for about 2 weeks. I use the dried instead of the fresh because you can never use up a big bouquet of fresh tarragon. It inevitably turns into green slime...too sad.