Asparagus

You have to wait three years for asparagus.  If you grow it, that is.  It is an exercise in patience.  Our original garden (when my late husband was the gardener) had asparagus, but when we installed an inground pool, that garden was gone.  And we didn't plant asparagus again.  It was always, "Well, ya gotta wait three years, so why bother?"  Obviously, if we had bothered, I'd be enjoying asparagus these last many years!

When I demo'd the pool and put in raised beds, I planted asparagus.  And this is the third year!  I am eagerly looking forward to asparagus risotto, asparagus soup, and just plain old asparagus.

If you look at the picture, you can see the beautiful, thick asparagus spear on the left, which I will be picking in a day or two.  On the right is a new shoot, obviously not ready for harvesting.  Patience, remember?

I read an article that came through my Facebook newsfeed the other day that suggested asparagus can cure cancer.  Now, this makes me a bit angry.  Yes, it is true that asparagus is good for you.  It is healthy and you should be eating it, especially now, in the spring.  But does it cure cancer?  Tell that to the people who lost loved ones to cancer, whether or not those loved ones ate asparagus.  The response is either, "Well, it didn't work for my husband" or "You mean he'd still be alive if I'd fed him asparagus?"  Neither of these responses will make anyone happy.

So this is what I've harvested so far.  And in case you don't know, this is what you do with an asparagus stalk:  gently bend the stalk and it will naturally break at the point where edible meets reedy.  So put down the knife and let nature do its thing.  These slight stalks are edible, and once I've gathered a few more in the coming days, I will have myself an asparagus feast.

I haven't even tasted my third-year asparagus yet, but I am already in love with the anticipation of it.  After all, I have waited three years to fall in love.