Asparagus, a wonder drug and olfactory pleaser

By Waleed Al-Shamma
Sun contributor
Heart attacks, cancer, strokes, diabetes and … the ability to produce and/or smell rank urine? While asparagus may help fight and prevent most of these hereditary traits, it is responsible for one of them.
There is rarely complete harmony in the scientific community. Indeed scientists find it necessary to debate “provable facts” from the Big Bang to the severity of, or human impact on, global climate change. Why should “asparagus pee,” as it’s affectionately known, be left out? Here’s what they seem to agree on: roughly two in five people will either produce or smell fowl urine after eating as few as three or four spears of this inaugural spring vegetable. I had a friend many years ago who claimed he could only smell “good smells”. He once went so far as to suggest that wind, which had recently been broken, smelled reminiscent of maple syrup. At the time I considered this averment beyond reproach, but now knowing that up to 60 percent of the population cannot sense this fetid, putrid, olid, musty, stinky, rancid, malodorous stench, I might be inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt in the future.

This entire olfactory debate is, however, of little value when one considers the myriad benefits of eating asparagus. Particularly the fresh, local asparagus that is so abundant this time of year. Our renown in Michigan is not limited to car manufacturing and cherry production alone. Yes, our state is the third largest producer of asparagus in the country, which happens to be the third largest producer of asparagus in the world. Why fresh? Why local?
There are plenty of nutritional and economical (support your local everything) reasons, but the most convincing reason in my mind is flavor. You have another week or so to try this experiment. Go to your nearest gargantuan supermarket and buy as little Mexican or Peruvian asparagus as you can get away with. (After all, you don’t want to be stuck with a whole pound of the stuff now when the local asparagus is available for such a limited time.) On your way home stop at a roadside farm market or local grocer and pick up a pound or three of local asparagus.
As an employee of Zingerman’s in Ann Arbor, I suggest you follow our four steps to taste great food: know it, look at it, smell it, taste it. Incidentally, I owe my adult rekindling of a love affair with asparagus to Rodger Bowser, chef at Zingerman’s Deli. Should you find yourself at the Deli in May, be sure and eat the Number 5, Rodger’s Big Picnic (asparagus, portabella mushroom, Cheddar cheese & Dijon vinaigrette on grilled farm bread), and a side of asparagus. I say rekindling because wild asparagus grew in my front yard on the Old Mission Peninsula when I was a wee lad. Imagine a seven-year-old eating asparagus for the flavor! I then spent my entire teenage years repulsed by asparagus because that which found its way into my parents’ fridge had more frequent flier miles than I do.
Know your asparagus. Since you are buying it directly from the farmer or from a local grocer, it shouldn’t be too difficult to ascertain where your asparagus was grown, or when it was harvested, or by whom. Look at it. It should be fat and green. There is an alternate method of growing that produces white asparagus and another cultivar known as purple asparagus, but we’ll stick with what is most common. Smell it. I find it has a slightly peppery, heartier “greens” smell. Saving the best for last, taste it!
With smell and taste it’s important to remember there are no wrong answers. People have often told me prior to or during tastings that they felt intimidated; they didn’t feel as though they possessed the necessary “tasting vocabulary”. I am quick to tell people they’re wrong. If you think something tastes like roses smell, or like an old gym sock, you’re right. That is to say taste is necessarily subjective, don’t be afraid to shout out or write down the first thing that pops into your mind. When it comes to my personal preferences for most vegetables, asparagus in particular — oh baby, you know I like it raw! Eating raw vegetables is, of course, the best way to ensure you are getting all of the nutrients out of the food and into your system. That being said, the strong vegetal flavor of raw asparagus is often too much for most people. Eaten as a side dish, it is most commonly boiled, steamed or grilled beyond recognition. In such a sad, limp, pale yellow state, virtually all of the slew of nutritional benefits contained in these proud shoots have been cooked off, leaving you with mushy wads of green that are scarcely more that a vehicle for butter. Knowing that, I suggest blanching your asparagus.
Blanching is one of those things that sounds fancy, but is actually rather simple. Bring water to a rapid boil in a deep pan or a wide pot, one that allows enough room for the asparagus to sit in the water unencumbered. Drop the asparagus into the boiling water gradually from the fattest to the thinnest spears to allow them to blanch evenly. Prepare an ice bath (ice and cold water) in another pan or large bowl. Allow the asparagus to remain in the boiling water for no more than 2-3 minutes. You will quickly see the asparagus turn a lighter, more vibrant green. When you remove it from the water, place it immediately in the ice bath to “shock” it, or to rapidly halt the cooking process. This is often done as a first step prior to further cooking. Blanching neutralizes some enzymes and bacteria and thereby extends shelf life. It can also help to improve flavor by releasing pent up bitter acids and enhance the appearance by releasing some gases that obscure the greenness of chlorophyll.
At this point, the asparagus should still be firm and have perfect flavor. If you want to dress it up just a little, drizzle some olive oil over it and sprinkle it with fresh cracked pepper and sea salt. Save the butter and cheese for imported asparagus during the off-season.
I just polished off the fourth pound of asparagus I purchased from four different local farms over the past week and a half. I’ve also had a glass of water and four glasses of iced tea over the past three hours. How often can your roommate know your diet after you micturate?