Just as the sight of a roasted turkey on the cover of a food magazine heralds the coming of Christmas, asparagus on a cover can be a harbinger of spring. But this is only a partial trigger for me. It is that sweet aroma of manure that wafts even into the city and the sighting of the first asparagus roadside stand that never fails to give me Spring Fever.

            I have been buying “fresh” asparagus almost all winter. It comes from California or sometimes South America, and generally it’s fine. But nothing can compare to the taste of fresh-from-the-field produce. As I was driving back to Calgary last week, to a record -breaking snowfall, I might add, I had my window open to enjoy and breath in deeply that wonderful, rejuvenating smell of manure. Obviously, I was by myself. My boys would have been making gross-out sounds in the back seat if they were with me. Then I saw it, near Abbotsford. A hand-lettered sign: “Asparagus for sale.” I wasn’t able to stop without causing a major traffic accident, but just the knowledge that asparagus/spring had arrived kept me sane through the nasty drive ahead.

            I am proud of my family connection to asparagus. My Uncle Jack in Ontario has an asparagus farm. Their season is still a good month away, but because harvesting takes place over only a six-week period and is done by hand, it requires getting all of the many workers ready to go. My cousin Bill, who lives here in Calgary, often flies out to help. My Mom has even worked, as well as every other relative with-in driving distance. Once a farmer becomes known for his superior asparagus, he will start getting calls early each spring from folks wanting to know when his crop will be ready, and unless there is a dramatic change in weather, he can likely predict within a week. This is also important so that distant relatives can get their flights booked! In the small village near my uncle’s farm, you can ask for “Ketcheson” asparagus by name.

Asparagus farming is a labour of love. It takes four years to establish a crop. The first three years are needed to sow, transplant and allow what is called the “crown” to become established. Once this happens, a plant can produce for up to 20 years. What makes some local producers more in-demand than others is their attention to handling and grading. My Uncle knows exactly which stalks to cut and when, and follows the standards set out by the Agriculture ministry of Ontario for grading on the basis of colour, firmness and size.

Fresh picked asparagus eaten raw tastes like fresh, baby peas. It is disheartening to know how much flavour is lost with each hour that passes after harvesting. To ensure the freshest product, the asparagus sorters work in a cool room and once cleaned and graded, the one-pound bundles are quickly refrigerated. So, while I may cook with “fresh” asparagus available in February, this is only because it adds variety and nice colour to a stir-fry. I wouldn’t try to equate it to fresh-picked, Canadian grown.

            I used to think that cooks who insisted you must have a proper asparagus cooker were just being pretentious and had far too much cupboard space. I take that back (the part about being pretentious), there really is a good reason for using one of these special pots. They are tall and narrow with a wire basket that sits inside to hold the asparagus upright as it steams. This allows the thicker and generally tougher ends to boil directly in the water while the more tender tops steam. Laying the stalks down in water gives you either over-done tips or under-done lower stalks. You can jerry-rig a cooker with a juice can that has holes punched in the bottom which you then place inside a larger pot and cover with tin foil. Buying a proper cooker actually sounds simpler.

            I had also always believed that you should bend and snap the stalks to determine which portion was tender enough to eat. But this method always left me with far too much waste and a bunch of different length stalks.  If you have chosen carefully, there should be only a small bottom portion that is too tough or fibrous to eat. Fresher, tenderer stalks will have tightly closed tips, almost purplish in colour, and no sign of flowering. The stems may be thick or thin, but they should not be flattened or irregular in any way. If you pare the tougher parts with a potato peeler, you should be able to eat most of the stalk. I consider it a sin to over-cook fresh asparagus (or corn, or beans, or peas). If you have cooked it too soon before it is time to eat, chill it immediately in cold water, drain it and re-heat quickly just before serving in hot water or in the microwave.

            One of my favourite ways to eat asparagus is by marinating it with balsamic vinegar, olive oil and garlic, then grilling directly on the barbecue. This is a good way to use asparagus that is a bit old and limp. I am not big on rich sauces these days, but I still remember savouring creamed asparagus on toast, or asparagus with hollandaise sauce.

            When my cousin arrives back in Calgary from his spring “farming”, he appears to be an angel of mercy, as he goes from one friend’s home to another, distributing the precious cargo he has brought back with him in one or two coolers. These will be full of just-picked treasures from his Dad’s farm. For me, that first bite of tender spring is the perfect tonic to cure all my winter blues.