Globe artichokes

Artichoke and pancetta ciabatta

It felt like spring was in the air yesterday. The sun was shining, slender crocus buds peered skyward out of flower beds - there was even a light peppering of Hawthorn shoots among the hedgerows on Highgate Lane. These young leaves were known as 'bread and cheese' back in the day, and are great nibbled straight off the hedge or gathered and tossed into a spring salad. For a moment I completely forgot about warming soups, thick stews and brooding winter sustenance, raiding the fridge in search of something quick and zesty. Today it's raining.

Artichoke and pancetta ciabatta

Serves 4 as a light lunch

1 Large ciabatta

A pack of marinated artichoke hearts

8 Rashers of smoked pancetta

A handful of rocket leaves

Parmesan shavings

Olive oil

Salt & pepper

Lemon wedges, to serve

Brush a piece of ciabatta with olive oil and place oil-down on a hot griddle pan. While the ciabatta's toasting, fry the pancetta for a couple of minutes until crispy and transfer onto kitchen paper. The rest is essentially an assembly job; artichoke hearts, broken pancetta splinters and a scattering of rocket leaves. Finish with parmesan shavings, a drizzle of olive oil, salt and pepper and a good squeeze of lemon juice.

The heart of the matter

 I was ill-inclined to rekindle the ashes of what had been a brief and tempestuous relationship with the globe artichoke. Last year’s debacle - an event that quickly imploded into a spectacle of profanity and vegetable abuse, was blighted from the outset and resulted in an oversized thistle making a prompt, window facilitated exit from my life.

 Simple start this time: cut the stalk off, trim the top and boil for 35-45 minutes. After draining and resting the artichoke on a board I begin to peel off the outer scales - they fall away easily, my fingertips quickly pointing out that the inner layers remain hotter than the surface of the sun. A generous slab of butter over the steaming leaves prompts an unusual development - scraping the smooth, pulpy inside of a scale into the mouth with your teeth feels odd yet strangely satisfying. Still, not one to order on a first date. A recipe I’ve found in an old book enthuses the merits of chewing on the tough outer scales too, an opinion that upon reflection, seems misguided. They’re horrid. Spooning out the furry choke is the final step en route to the heart.

 “Is that it?” remarks a visibly disgruntled girlfriend, eyeing the heart suspiciously while offering a cusory glance at the heap of debris on the board. Nonplussed, I quarter the heart before adding a sprinkle of salt and few grinds of black pepper - it’s a brief but tasty affair.

 Having spent the best part of an hour unravelling its babushka doll exterior, I’ll concede that the resultant volume of ‘choke heart matter appears less than impressive. In its uncooked form an artichoke has a fantastic sculptural beauty; the aesthetic transition is the equivalent of arriving at the Albert Hall to find Dick Van Dyke on stage performing ‘The Planets’ solo on a nose flute. No actually, I’d pay good money to see that. Maybe it is worth the effort.

Posted on bbcgoodfood.com 24th April 2009