Fun with fiddleheads

still enjoying seasonal joys here

New food is so much fun, isn’t it?

For example, last weekend, a friend included slices of parwal, or pointed gourd, in the assorted vegetable pakoras served at their party, and I realized that was a first for me—unless I’ve had them unwittingly as part of a curry, of course, which is always possible!

And after seeing a recipe for niuro, or fiddlehead ferns—another vegetable I hadn’t had before—in Prashanta Khanal’s aforementioned cookbook Timmur, I’ve kept my eyes open for them; this from his introduction to the recipe:

“When in season, fiddlehead fern is a common vegetable in the countryside and a prized delicacy in the urban areas.”

I fall into the latter category, so I’ve been keeping my eyes open, and did spy some last week; sad specimens with black, wilted tips. Then, yesterday morning, at my closest corner store, there was a fresh bundle, lying loose in a polythene bag that had clearly contained many of its fellows.

And I wondered if the reason I’ve so rarely seen them this season is that I generally never go out for milk that early in the morning…

As I had plans for the evening, I trimmed the stems, placed them in a mug of water, and into the fridge they went. With the dawning of today, I’m here to tell you from experience that you should really only buy—or pick, but if you are so lucky I’m sure you already know this—fiddleheads if you are going to cook them for your very next meal.

An awful lot ended up in the compost bin, I’m sorry to say.

Before popping what I could salvage into salted water to boil, I had a raw munch. And that’s where I was stumped. I’m sure I’ve never had these before, and certainly not enough to provoke/conjure up such a shot of familiarity. Like something enjoyed, but not for years.

My fiddlesheads were clearly pretty small, and cooked much quicker than the book said to expect; a stem I tasted after cooking was just a little—slimy? Really there weren’t much of them at all, and they looked so vibrantly green I didn’t end up sauteeing with spices according to the recipe: I wanted to know what they really tasted like. So just my go-to: olive oil, vinegar, salt, pepper. Whatever slime-feel I’d gotten from tasting one solo, it was magically gone here. So fresh and delicious, the warm stalks soaking up the simple dressing.

All these hours later, I’m still searching to put the taste into words: Google turned up this sentence from Food & Wine:

“Fiddleheads are sweet like asparagus, grassy and snappy like a great green bean, with a touch of broccoli stem.”

Green beans—raw or very lightly cooked—is perhaps the closest to me of the descriptions I’ve read. But really it’s really a flavor uniquely its own.

A little more sampling is clearly called for. I’ll have to hunt down some more fiddleheads to finally try that recipe—or one of these two another Nepali cookbook author, Jyoti Pathak, shared for fiddlehead ferns on her website. The second one in particular seems rather perfect for a summer’s day.

Does anyone out there have any fiddlehead experience? Any favorite ways to eat them? I want to make the most of the season while it lasts!