SFist in the Kitchen: Cardoons
We were over the moon when we saw cardoons at Tairwa' Knoll's stall last Saturday at the Ferry Plaza Market. Restaurateurs and avid cardoon eaters usually buy all these tall, light green stalks long before they get to market. Maybe farmers are growing more because they see demand for the husky, peppery flavor of this Mediterranean vegetable.
Cardoons may look like steroid-riddled celery, but the name comes from the word for thistle and they're actually close relatives of the artichoke. Tairwa' Knoll said they'll probably have them for another few weeks, but away from California's warm weather and fertile soil, growers pluck cardoons from the ground in the winter, not the spring.
Photos by Melissa Schneider
You can eat very young and tender stalks raw, but the tougher ones you almost always find at the market need to be pre-cooked. Cut off the very bitter leaves and the base and then cut the stalks into manageable sizes. Drop them immediately into vinegar-laced water—like artichokes they discolor quickly when exposed to air. Then boil the pieces in well-salted, acidulated water until just tender, 15-20 minutes, to remove the bitterness. Drain them, let them cool and peel the tough-to-eat strings from the surface.
After you precook them, you have a few options. Traditionalists will want to impress guests with the Piemontese bagna cauda, a "warm bath" of olive oil, garlic, butter, and anchovies that serves as the ultimate dip for cardoons and radishes. We like this dish with a musky Roero Arneis, one of the Piemonte's few white wines, but red fans could probably get away with a Barbera from the same region. At Hayes Valley hangout Absinthe, we had them breaded and deep-fried alongside a white wine from Italy's Alto Adige region. For a more interesting take, make a gratin with boiled cardoons and mushrooms for San Francisco's cold summer nights, or make one with braised cardoons and salsify and serve it alongside roasted sea scallops and an orange-hazelnut reduction, one suggestion in the current, thistle-heavy issue of Art Culinaire, available at Cody's Books or Sur la Table.
Recipe: Bagna Cauda
If you can find them at a good fishmonger, use fresh anchovies for this dish, but well-rinsed salt-packed anchovies work nicely as well. Oakland's Pasta Shop sells the salt-packed variety individually, while most stores that carry them sell them in big tins. Avoid the oil-packed anchovies if you can; their flavor is drab, metallic, and unappealing.
- 2-3 cloves of garlic, peeled and minced
- 2 Tb. unsalted butter
- 2 whole fresh or salt-packed anchovies (see note), bones removed (and deep-fried for those who know the pleasures of deep-fried anchovy bones)
- 1/2 c. extra virgin olive oil
- cardoons, prepared as described above
- radishes or the sweet, white turnips available at various stalls
- bread
- a fondue pot
- melt the butter in small pot. add garlic and cook just until fragrant
- turn heat down to low, and add anchovies while whisking. Smash anchovies into butter and garlic until it's well-incorporated.
- add oil, whisking constantly, until sauce is fragrant.
- season to taste.
- put vegetables and bread onto plates.
- serve bagna cauda in a fondue pot kept over a low flame on the table.