Artichokes: Who Would Have Known?

The other day I came across a four-pack of gigantic Cynara cardunculous buds while shopping at Costco. Whether it was their low price, or merely a subconscious urge to fulfill my fiber quotient by eating thistles, I put them in the cart and took them home.

I prepared them for cooking with great care. It was like disarming enemy grenades designed to rip your throat out. But, after clipping away the needle-like thorns, the denuded buds surrendered to the pot without incident. And after a few minutes, they were ready to eat. Surprisingly, they had become not only food for dinner, but food for thought.

“Who in the heck was the first guy to figure out you could eat these things?” I mused while scraping each leaf between my teeth. “And under what set of bizarre circumstances would he even have considered doing so in the first place?” I pondered these questions as I ate, then invited my childlike imagination to fill in the details.

Here’s how I think it might have happened. A North African nomad named Artie lay dying of hunger in a grove of stinging nettles. As his spirit ascended towards the “light,” he heard a voice. To his surprise, it wasn’t God, rather an ancient Space Alien from beyond the stars (not from Arizona).

Eager to be of help, the alien removed a bud from one of the brier-like bushes. He told Artie that it was not a worthless weed, but a viable source of food that could save his life. He described how preparation and cooking could take hours, but promised that in less than a thousand years, someone would invent a pressurized pot that would cook it in ten minutes.

He predicted a bright future for the thorny globes. He spoke of a time when they would be considered a cash crop worth millions of dollars for farmers in a far off land called Monterey Valley, California, as well as a source of steady revenue from Government subsidies during bad times.

He also said their uses would become legion, especially on round things named “gourmet pizzas,” and in vegetable assortments called “appetizers.” And he described large glass containers of them on shelves in giant warehouses of the future. He predicted that only the bottom portion, or “heart” would used, but would be worth its weight in gold.

Artie listened, and at the point of death found enough strength to ask the alien one final question. “How do I go about eating these wonderful buds, Lord Alien,” he gasped, “and what do I call them?” The response was clear and unequivocal. “Eat them one leaf at a time, my Son. As for their name, it’s the last thing you need to worry about right now considering your condition. Just focus on this one critical thing. When you get down to that fuzzy, hairy part near the bottom, be careful not to eat it. If you do, Artie might choke.”

That’s my story, and like all kids, I’m sticking to it!