T
he fun of certain delicacies is that they appear for
but a short time in the markets. I���m thinking, of course,
of soft-shell crabs, which arrive after the first full moon
in May, and also of fiddlehead ferns, those tightly furled
pre-frond vegetables, found only in early spring.
The latter please the eye, the mind and the palate. To
place a dish of them on one���s table is to be presented
with a living Blossfeldt photograph, a humble yet exalted
work of art and nature. These curled, coiled, springy
blooms might seem slightly creepy to some, too peculiar
to eat, but they satisfy my taste for the exotic, even the
slightly gruesome in food, like chitterlings or pigs��� feet.
Fiddleheads are sometimes reputed to be toxic, and this
only enhances their attraction for me, the thrill of the
forbidden.
Fiddleheads are eaten the world over. In Indonesia,
fiddleheads are simmered in a rich coconut sauce
spiced with chili, lemongrass, turmeric and other spices.
In Japan, bracken fiddleheads are a prized dish and
roasting them is supposed to neutralize any toxins.
In North America, fiddleheads are eaten in New England,
especially Maine. There they are boiled or steamed and
eaten hot with butter or hollandaise sauce.
One spring evening in Chelsea we were at a loss as to
what to eat. In this neighborhood we are often spoiled for
HYLAND
