April 9, 2003

MOST OF US have weird little phobias when it comes to food: we don't like peas, or liver, or yogurt, or squirrel brains, or Mexican. One of the more prominent entries on my list is (apart from squirrel brains) asparagus. It would be going too far to say I have a phobia about it, but in my heart of hearts I have always felt I don't like it as I should, even though over the years I've prepared it every which way: boiled, steamed, grilled, sautéed with shiitake mushrooms and cilantro, made into soup.

There is something embarrassing about asparagus ambivalence, especially when one is in France (if one is allowed to mention France nowadays), browsing in shops that sell special plates and tongs for the hallowed spears. A few years ago I did finally stumble on a recipe for roasting asparagus; it is fast and easy, and it produces a smoky char I genuinely like.

Still, reinforcements are always nice (see under: Rumsfeld), and so the arrival last week of The Asparagus Festival Cookbook, by Jan Moore, Barbara Hafley, Glenda Hushaw, and Jacqueline Zupo (Ten Speed/Celestial Arts, $5.95 paper), was like a sweet, steady rain at the end of a long drought. I cannot say that every recipe in the innovation-happy little volume is entirely appealing (asparagus-chocolate chip cookies? asparagus margaritas? pass), but enough are to make the book useful at this time of year, when asparagus is ubiquitous and cheap and you can't not buy it. Asparagus salsa sounds good, as does asparagus "woodchuck," essentially a kind of asparagus-potato stew with a sauce of tomatoes, olives, lemon, and cheese. There's even a familiar-sounding recipe for roasting – convenient, since your oven is already warm from making those cookies.

And more on the subject of roasting: boutique coffee lovers will be interested in Story House (503-233-1144, www.storyhouse.com), a microroaster in Portland, Ore., that emphasizes beans from small plantations and estates you'd have a hard time finding anywhere else – Maui moka from Ka'anapali Estate, for instance. The beans aren't cheap (the fanciest ones are $6 to $7 a half pound), but they aren't hideously expensive, either, and tend to be organic, shade-grown, and fair trade. The Mexico Custapec and Ethiopia Yirgacheffe are downright affordable at $4 a half pound. You can even buy beans unroasted (for $4 to $7 a pound) and roast them yourself, if you are a fanatic about freshness. Roasting your own isn't difficult to do; all you need is a big, heavy skillet or sauté pan, a good hot flame, a wooden spoon, and an arm strong enough to stir constantly for 15 minutes or so. It's a way to pass the time while you roast your asparagus.