Asparagus

Welcome to "The Garden State!"

Local eaters like me eagerly await each new season that brings us back to the foods we love the most. It's kind of like getting a gift every single day, except we shop at our grocery store to feel wonder at our easy access to freshly grown food.

Most folks around the world don't know that every New Jersey license plate reads "The Garden State" underneath the vehicle's registered numbers, because much like New York, they have a lot of bad press to contend with. Ever see "The Sopranos" or "Jersey Shore"? 'Nuff said.

Trees, produce, and family horse farms are a big part of Jersey, too!

For "tri-staters" like me (an urban/suburban/rural area that includes the parts of New York, New Jersey, and Connecticut closest to "The City" that needs no other introduction), we also know it as the state the grows most of our most prized and delicious fruits and veggies. 

The list of famous Jersey produce is like a "Who's Who" of the best American crops: sweet corn so good it needs no butter; rich, juicy tomatoes every Italian-American sweats over ("It's the sauce, boss!"), perfectly ripe, juicy peaches that melt in your mouth as the pit falls away from your hand when it's eaten at its' peak...it goes on and on.

Dressed with lemon, Parmesan, and sunflower seeds, pan-seared in butter.

The borderline between New York and New Jersey is less than five minutes away from Rockland County, so my grocery store naturally stocks the best produce that's available. My handy little iPhone app tells me about each month's new growth, and that's backed up by the stock for sale on the shelves, or at the farmer's market. 

Omelet with asparagus, toasted sunflower seeds, and sharp cheddar cheese, with a squeeze of lemon on top.

This week, me and my other media pals reflect the same great taste: http://newyork.cbslocal.com/category/cooking/recipes/ and http://www.producepete.com/shows/asparagus.html.   

Here's to you, "Asparagus".  I hope we did you proud!

The proper way to store it: in the fridge and in water, like fresh cut flowers. Fresh asparagus only has a 2-3 day shelf life.

Chops

Extra cabbage my mom gave me from her Corned Beef dish will do nicely!

Years ago my boyfriend's sister (then live-in boyfriend I didn't want, then fiancé, and also including soon-to-be annulled tricky disaster of a faux first marriage) went to Le Cordon Bleu in Ottawa, financed yet again by his desperate parents looking for a rock star in their two kid rubble of a messy family. Never happened, but I learned a thing or two, just like I honed my innate business acumen and musicianship on the side: I don't have time for more art forms than the many ones that I already practice at an expert level daily, but I do love to dabble, with the understanding that my dabbling is also at the maestro level. 
It doesn't go away simply because my brain is solving other types of problems, even when I may want amateur status. I like the newness of anonymity, like any other careful observer does.

Voilà! My homemade cole slaw.

And so it is with cooking, too. I cook almost every single day of my life, out of habit and enjoyment, or from necessity and want, so now I cook at the master level. I don't ever want to be a professional chef who runs a kitchen (Oh, good! Another job for me that's hard, low-paying and takes years to pay out), but I like listening. My brief "sister-in-law" did the wacky school stuff like deboning quail and many mindless hours of repetitive chopping, but she did tell me some useful stuff from her classes like: 1) pairing wines with food is a matter of preference that serves the customer well above any other snobby food rule, because a pro kitchen exists to show people a good time, not embarrass them with their ignorance. Want a nice red with chicken or fish? Have it! The "correct" choice is whatever you want and/or what beverage you think tastes good, not what anyone else says about it, unless you specifically ask a Sommelier for advice sur la table. Nothing blows the deal of a deep-pocketed repeat customer than humiliating some bourgeois "Nouveau-Riche" type looking to impress people with their freely thrown cash, so don't do it. Skills!

At the stove every damn day, people!

Same with cookbooks: 2) they can't teach you how to cook because it's about flawless timing, countless hours of practice, and the spills and mistakes that come with real trial and error mixed with ingenuity and bravery, the hard-won experience of a daily habit. That's what I have, whether I wanted it or not, because if I want to eat really good food, I often have to make it myself. And so it was with cookbooks, too. I asked her what her best recommendation was, and she told me the truth, as told to her by one of her professors: 3) it's "The Joy of Cooking", any edition and any version, from any year. The author doesn't tell you how to do it; she gives you a basic template to follow, with versions and iterations based on your choices, preferences, budget, and/or or pantry ingredients on hand. She can't think for you. You have to do that. So that's what I do, in a nutshell, every single day of my life, and maybe some day you can, too, because I don't want to be single forever, people!

Enjoy the fresh new Springtime produce that's hitting our shelves soon. We've earned it.

Perfectly cooked medium/medium-rare lamb chop, a total Spring dish.

Another perfect chop: this one a pork "Scallopine" cut in brown butter.

Perfect sticky rice with sprig of fresh thyme.

One perfect (and tiny) leaf of thyme on a bed of fluffy white rice.