You know those people who get so completely obsessed with some obscure produce item or ingredient that they just have to have it? They yap about it for weeks to anyone who will listen, then wake up at ungodly hours and elbow to the front of the farmer’s market so they can be the very first to buy it? Aren’t they annoying as all get-out? Well, hello, my name is April, and I have a produce problem. You see, for many years I’ve been reading about a mysterious spring delicacy known as the fiddlehead fern. If you’ve not heard of them, fiddleheads are the furled leaves of certain types of ferns, curled like the head of a violin, and spoken of in hushed, slightly awed tones by those “in the know”. These greens are actually found everywhere in Maine and other parts of New England and Canada, but I’d never seen them in Pittsburgh markets until recently. When I heard they were coming to Farmers @ the Firehouse this Spring, I suddenly became deeply covetous of the wily fronds, and was determined to lay my hands on them.

I knew that the ferns were hard to come by, which meant that I would have to position myself at the market before opening time. This translates to before 9:00am on a Saturday morning - surprisingly not on the list of favorite things to do on my day off. Still, I went the week before last, and managed to arrive about 10 minutes before 9. Yes! There was even time to grab a desperately-needed cup of coffee before the vendors were allowed to start selling. I slipped into La Prima, got a to-go cup, and hurried back to the stalls. Then, if you were near, you might have heard me mutter: “What? They’re sold out already?! Good grief.” Then, frantically: “Ok, but will you have them next week?” Of course, the shame that they’d slipped through my fingers made me want them even more…and I vowed to not let them escape again.

So, I returned last Saturday with higher hopes, waking up at 7:30 - even earlier than I get up for work - with my heart racing and elbows sharpened, hungry for my prize, ready to fight tooth and nail (with a bit of groveling thrown in for good measure). I should probably take this moment to tell you that I had never actually tasted a fiddlehead fern. For all I knew, they could be awful, spiny little things that snagged your throat on the way down and were once eaten by poor, starving, Depression-era farm children (no doubt heightening their trendiness). Or, they could be transcendent, with every sweet dew-drop of Spring preserved in their curls, with rainbows and sparkly things bursting from your fork at each bite. Anything goes, as they say, but obviously, I was hoping for the latter experience.

Thankfully, I reached the market with a few minutes to spare, and yet even before opening, the good folks at Silver Wheel Farm had sold all of their fiddleheads! All, that is, except for one bag. Needless to say, I was ecstatic with the thrill of victory.

Fiddleheads before cleaning and cooking

With my precious cargo gripped firmly in hand, I rushed back home to consult the Internet on how to prepare them. But suddenly, some some unexpected slander was turning up on the topic of my beloved ferns. For example,

…in May 1994, outbreaks of food poisoning were associated with eating raw or lightly cooked fiddlehead ferns in New York and western Canada.
— CDC.gov

and also,

Some ferns contain carcinogens, and Bracken has been implicated in stomach cancer.
— Wikipedia

Yikes! No way did I want a storm coming down on my rainbow like this. For a few hours I was afraid to eat them…but then relented, as that would have been just too embarrassing. Finally, I followed the directions of various helpful websites, and boiled the ferns within an inch of their life - for 15 minutes. The boiling, I read here and here, is likely to remove any toxin that may cause gastrointestinal distress. Also, the brownish papery substance that you see in the picture had to be removed. I found this to be a tremendous pain in the rear, but as stated above, it was beneath my pride to give up on them once the ferns were in my possession.

I guess what you really want to know now, if you’ve read all this, is alright, but were they any good or what? Well, I have to admit to being pretty underwhelmed (given my inflated expectations, you can hardly blame me). They were far from sublime, but not exactly nasty, either. I didn’t get a chance to take a picture, but their cooked selves were nearly identical in appearance, so you shouldn’t feel as though you’re missing out. To be honest, I think the long boiling time made them a bit on the soggy side, so they sort of resembled overcooked asparagus in terms of flavor and texture, but milder. Luckily I suffered no ill effects, but so much for my quest to mine the gems of spring! I definitely wouldn’t go out of my way to eat the fiddleheads again, but at least it made for an amusing adventure tale (intrigue! deceit!). And [cue after-school special music], I also accomplished a goal while learning a lesson about overly-high expectations. Or something. Oh, bugger that - the real truth is, I sure am looking forward to sleeping in this Saturday. ;)

Posted by the cookworm on Tuesday, May 20th, 2008 at 8:12 pm.