Potato Cardoon Gratin
Cardoons, which are seasonal for the next ten seconds, have long fascinated me.With their truly brief window–a few winter weeks in Northern California–cardoons remain that rare thing, a truly seasonal vegetable. This rarity means I’ve had little experience with them, and until now, that experience has been of the failed variety.
Blame me and not the cardoon, which looks like a bunch of oversized silver celery.The cardoon is often described as tasting like an artichoke, its close botanical relative. Others liken cardoons to mushrooms. In my admittedly limited experience, cardoons taste neither like artichokes nor mushrooms, but like themselves. That taste ranges from extremely bitter to faintly so; accompanied by a celery-like texture, the cardoon is uncommon indeed. But before one is able to form an opinion, or even a craving, the cardoon vanishes from the markets, leaving shoppers with greens and root vegetables.
As mentioned, my prior experiences with cardoons ended in disappointment.This year, armed with steely determination, I waited for the silvery thistles to appear in the produce aisle. The time had come to conquer the mighty cardoon.
December passed cardoonless. A few days ago, while rushing around for a few items, I spied cardoons, piled in a single box. Aha!
Jennifer McLagan writes beautifully about the cardoon in Bitter, plumbing its historical depths while offering sound practical advice on its preparation. Unlike its artichoke cousin, cardoons afford more edibility per bit, though careful prep is required. McLagan writes that the cardoon’s viciously spiky outer leaves are removed before they arrive at market. This wasn’t the case with my cardoons. Not only were they studded with hairy spikes, they harbored sprightly life forms.
So, what to do with this admittedly unusual vegetable? Only the innermost pale stalks may be eaten raw, something I’ve yet to attempt. Instead, I cook my cardoons. Below, a basic recipe for preparing cardoons, followed by the gratin recipe.
A couple words about the gratin. If you don’t have cardoons, it may be made with potatoes alone. Or slip in sliced leeks, sliced onions, chard, or spinach.The creme fraiche comes from Jody Williams, whose recipe for Tartliflette in Buvette uses it to great effect.
Basic Cardoons
serving size: variable: a large bunch may feed 4, a smaller bunch 2
one bunch cardoons
6 lemons, sliced, plus a couple extra slices if necessary
water
salt
Fill a large pot with water and squeeze two lemons into the pot. Bring to a boil.
Fill a large bowl with cool water and squeeze two lemons into the bowl. You can toss the spent lemons into the pot of water.
Dirt gathers at the cardoon’s base, which you should cut off; wash or wipe stalks.
Steel yourself for potential small bugs, which won’t kill you. Arm yourself with a sharp paring knife and a vegetable peeler.
Cut off the leaves. Sadly, these are too bitter to eat.
Now tackle the ribs, which are edible, removing strings, spikes, and any bits that don’t look edible. I find using both paring knife and vegetable peeler the best method.
Cut into small pieces.Cardoons oxidize quickly, so rub the pieces with lemon before tossing into your bowl of water.
Once the whole bunch is trimmed, add it to the pot of water. Add a generous tablespoon salt, then cook cardoons until tender, about 25 minutes. Drain well. They’ll hold this way a few days.
From this point, cardoons may be eaten as it, in salads, soups, or dips. North Africans add them to couscous; Jennifer McLagan gives a recipe for Cardoon Beef Tagine. I made a gratin with potatoes, next.
Potato Cardoon Gratin
serves: 3-4
cooking time: approximately 1 hour 15 minutes
3-4 large Russet potatoes, peeled and thinly sliced
2 cups milk, half-and-half, or cream
3-4 garlic cloves, one peeled and halved, three peeled and thinly sliced
sprig fresh thyme
salt and fresh pepper
optional:
2-4 tablespoons creme fraiche
a little butter for the gratin pan
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.
You’ll need a baking pan between 9 and 11 inches.Rub the pan with the halved garlic, then butter it.
Pour the milk into a saucepan. Add the potatoes, rest of the garlic, thyme, salt, and pepper. Bring to boil, stirring occasionally, until potatoes are nearly done. This will take about a half-hour.
Watch closely, as milk enjoys billowing up and spilling over if not stirred down.
Once the potatoes are ready, you can either drain them carefully, saving the milk–you’ll need it–or you can be lazy like me and lift them into the gratin with a slotted spoon.
Either way, begin building your gratin with a layer of potatoes, followed by a layer of cardoons. It’s hard to be precise about amounts, as you may have more or less cardoon. That’s okay. You might also want to arrange your potatoes more artistically than I did. Salt lightly. Keep going until potato and cardoon are used up.
Carefully pour the milk over. Dollop in as much creme fraiche as your conscience allows. Mine permitted two good tablespoons.
Place the gratin pan on a baking sheet–remember our billowing milk–and place in oven 30-40 minutes, until potatoes are appetizingly browned and it smells wonderful.
Eat.
Notes:
Cardoons may be replaced with pre-cooked artichoke bottoms, chard leaves, spinach, or thinly sliced onions.
People who need to gain weight can add shredded Fontina or Mozzarella to the top.
Reheat leftovers in low oven.
