Feed me, Seymour. (archive 5/27/09)

My favorite food growing up were my Grandmother's stuffed artichokes. She used to make a batch, usually on Christmas and Easter, and would always save a few extras just for me on the side. I would devour them, one by one, eating every edible (and sometimes not so edible) part I could get my hands on. On two separate occasions I found a worm in the middle, and not even this deterred me from loving them or continuing to peel away the mysteries that lie inside.

Yet the real mystery was...why haven't I tried to make these myself yet!? I have always been intimidated by artichokes, and the work they entailed to make them just so. My Grandmother had such a knack for this; perhaps I wanted to keep the preciousness of it alive with her memory.

I decided to roll my sleeves up and try my hand at these pointy (albeit messy) beauties. Using an online recipe for artichokes, I had a specific mission that went right to the heart. With dirty fingernails I dug my way through for what seemed like ages to get to the tiniest piece of gold at the end of this labor intensive rainbow. I cleaned them up and roasted them in a clear glass tray with lots of fresh crushed garlic, olive oil, lemon, and sea salt.



The roasted results were so delicious! I also baked them with quinoa, adding sauce and organic cheese. Next time I will try actually stuffing the artichokes instead of digging straight for their golden hearts. I just hope that they measure up to the ones I can still taste so vividly in my memories.