Let me state a bias right away: I’ve never liked pencil asparagus. When I started cooking in the ’80s, it seemed that the thin stuff was everywhere — tempura-battered, sprinkled with a confetti of bell peppers, or drowned in a pool of (usually ice-cold) hollandaise.
One day the chef I was working for prepared a plate of what we call jumbo asparagus in the trade. He snapped off the stems of a bunch of asparagus stalks, thick around as a baby’s wrist, peeled them to within an inch of their tips, boiled them in lots of heavily salted water, and served the asparagus in a simple sauce of water, butter and coarse salt.
The taste was a revelation — meaty, sweet and grassy with a slight sulfuric undertone.
Ever since then jumbo asparagus is what I’ve used. Peeling the asparagus, a technique that comes from the French, is a way of making sure the bottom part of the stalk is tender and cooks at the same time as the tip.
The classic sauce for asparagus is hollandaise, but for me that sauce’s eggy blandness smothers the subtle taste of asparagus. What I like with asparagus is strong, sharp flavors — mustard, capers, olives, anchovies, lemon zest and juice, even Asian flavors like ginger,fermented black bean sauce and roasted sesame oil.
The best asparagus is firm with tightly closed tips. If you snap a stalk in half, the interior should be juicy. If the bottom end of the stalk is cracked and woody, don’t buy it: The asparagus will be tough and bitter.
Chef Broening cooks at Duo Restaurant, .
