Spring has come to Germany and that can mean only one thing in the hearts and taste buds of many Germans. Spargelzeit . . . the season to harvest and consume the native weiße Gold - white asparagus. I had been an afficionado of the more familiar green asparagus since I was a child; it was a perennial crop on my grandparent’s Michigan farmstead and freshly picked spears found their way to the dinner table daily throughout the spring growing season.
It was not until I was a young university student in Freiburg in Breisgau, in the Black Forest of southwestern Germany, that I was first introduced to the tasty springtime delicacy that is Spargel - white asparagus. The different colored asparagus
are not fundamentally different varieties, they are only grown differently. White asparagus is covered with soil because the plant must be protected from light in order to remain pale. In addition, white asparagus requires a specific combination of soil, temperature and rain in order to develop the perfect taste. Today much of the German crop can be found in Baden-Wuerttemberg and Hesse, or across the Rhine River in the Alsace region of France. Although white asparagus is available in the United State throughout much of the year, it is grown primarily in California or Mexico, and I find that its taste, texture, and aroma are no match for Germany’s white gold. Americans views it more as a kickshaw; a notable contrast to the German fanaticism for this springtime treat.
Spargelzeit last only for two or three months, beginning with the onset of spring in late March to mid-April, and lasting until “Johanni," the birthday of John the Baptist on June 24. The rules in hand: “Stich den Spargel nie nach Johanni“ [never pick asparagus after Johanni] and “wenn die Kirschen sind rot, Spargel ist tot” [when the cherries are red, asparagus is dead’] . . . not literally dead as asparagus is a perennial vegetable. It requires sufficient time to regenerate for the next season. Harvesting white asparagus is also very labor-intensive as each individual spear must be carefully exposed by hand as deeply as possible and then "pricked" just above the root crown.
When shopping during Spargelzeit, one should always look for the freshest spears. The head of the spears should be tightly compressed and they should be moist yet firm and white
without any discoloration. They should be prepared and consumed as soon as possible although they can be kept wrapped in a moist towel in the refrigerator for a couple of days. Some people will freeze Spargel, but in my humble opinion it always tastes best when served fresh.
There is no muss or fuss in the proper preparation of Spargel. Simply place the fresh spears in a pot of boiling water for 15 to 20 minutes (do not overcook), adding a little salt, sugar, and butter. Some will add lemon juice to the stock to maintain the white color. This can be tricky, however, as too much lemon juice can overshadow the unique taste and aroma of Spargel. Once plated, many Germans will eat it with melted butter and a light herbal garnish. Others might pair it with new potatoes (boiled separately from the Spargel), some hollandaise sauce, and perhaps thin slices of cured ham. Still others might serve it as a side dish with cutlets or sausages. Many Germans favor a mild white wine while others will wash it all down with a glass of beer. To each his own. I prefer to eat my Spargel with a few small new potatoes so that I might enjoy its inimitable flavor. Simplicity at its best.
Spargelzeit is a special time indeed. What better way to celebrate the advent of Spring?
Hear the past a callin', from Armageddon's side
When everyone's talkin' and noone is listenin',
how can we decide?
Find the cost of freedom, buried in the ground
Mother Earth will swallow you, lay your body down.
= Stephen Stills, “Find the Cost of Freedom”
So many friends today are reminding me that this is Star Wars Day - “May the 4th be with you.” Today I find myself reflecting instead on a seminal event in this country reckoning with the Vietnam War era. Another tragic event of that war; not a battle fought in some faraway patch of jungle, but one fought on a small college campus - Kent State University - on a tranquil spring day in Middle America.
It was at the end of my freshman year in college, a year when anti-war protests on campuses across the country were beginning to heat up. I was attending a small liberal arts college in Florida associated with the Methodist Church, and there was very little in the way of protest there. In fact, freshman and sophomore men were required to participate in the Army ROTC program. Don’t get me wrong; there was anti-war sentiment on campus, but it never really blossomed into full-scale dissent and protest against the war taking place on larger campuses across the country.
Many of my fellow students participated in the nation-wide Moratorium to End the War in Vietnam, on October 15, 1969. Called as a general strike, most colleges and universities refused to cancel classes that day although it was reported that class attendance was down as students participated in various protests. It was a rather bizarre day at my college as it was a Wednesday and all the male students, including myself, were required to wear their ROTC uniforms throughout the day followed by a general drill in the afternoon. Afterwards I dressed in my “civvies” for dinner and that evening about 300 students (approximately a quarter of the student body) gathered outside the ROTC building for a candlelight vigil. We sang folk songs before marching to a nearby meditation garden for some more singing. The next day several Florida newspapers ran stories about the various campus protests around the state. One of our group was quoted: “There is nothing more beautiful than the American flag flying, but I believe there is nothing uglier than an American flag being lowered in a grave on top of a casket.” Despite the faulty flag protocol for burial, the point was made. Pretty tame stuff, but we raised out voices against the war.
And who can forget Paul Filo's iconic photograph of Mary Ann Vecchio kneeling and crying beside the lifeless body of Jeffrey Miller? The innocence of my generation came to an end that day. On my way home from Florida to Wisconsin for summer break that day I Iistened and wondered where all of this was going to lead. President Nixon said the anti-war protests would not affect his pursuit of an American victory in Vietnam. How could it ever be a victory if the government was resigned to kill its own young to accomplish it?
A month after the killings at Kent State, Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young released their single “Ohio,” a haunting three-minute protestimonial penned by Neil Young. Many radio stations throughout the country refused to play it, but I went out and bought it and played it over and over until the record popped and skipped.
What if you knew her
And found her dead on the ground
How can you run when you know?
I thought back to that quote by my fellow student on Moratorium Day, and to all the flagged-draped coffins coming home from that remote patch of jungle so very far away.
We're finally on our own
This summer I hear the drummin'
Four dead in Ohio.
Today, 49 years later, I still remember.
