Аспарагус, или спаржа.

Любите ли вы спаржу так, как люблю ее я?)

Скоро в Германии начнется сезон спаржи.

Однажды я побывала в немецкой столице спаржи - называется Schwetzingen. Там ей даже соорудили памятник, вот такой:



Спаржа, или шпаргель по-немецки - это целая философия!
Спаржу нельзя "перерасти" - если ростки выглянут из-под земли, они станут фиолетовыми и горькими. И когда начинается сезон, народ, занятый в выращивании спаржи, в диком количестве высыпает на поля рано утром, с рассветом, закапывая ростки в землю.










Спаржу чистят, как морковку, и потом отваривают.




Мне кажется, по вкусу спаржа напоминает цветную капусту.


Ну и не могу не процитировать мой любимый отрывок из The Luncheon, Maugham:

... "No, no, I never eat anything for luncheon. Just a bite, I never want more than that. I can't eat anything more unless they had some of those giant asparagus. I should be sorry to leave Paris without having some of them."
My heart sank. I had seen them in the shops and I knew that they were horribly expensive. My mouth had often watered at the sight of them.
"Madame wants to know if you have any of those giant asparagus," I asked the waiter.
I hoped he would say no. A happy smile spread over his broad face, and he assured me that they had some so large, so splendid, so tender, that it was a marvel.
"I'm not in the least hungry," my guest sighed, "but if you insist I don't mind having some asparagus."
I ordered them.
"Aren't you going to have any?"
"No, I never eat asparagus."
"I know there are people who don't like them."
We waited for the asparagus to be cooked. Panic seized me. It was not a question now how much money I should have left for the rest of the month, but whether I had enough to pay the bill. It would be terrible to find myself ten francs short and be obliged to borrow from my guest. I could not bring myself to do that. I knew exactly how much money I had and if the bill came to more I made up my mind that I would put my hand in my pocket and with a dramatic cry start up and say my money had been stolen. If she had not money enough to pay the bill then the only thing to do would be to leave my watch and say I would come back and pay later.
The asparagus appeared. They were enormous, succulent and appetising. The smell of the melted butter tickled my nostrils as the nostrils of Jehovah were tickled by the burned offerings of the virtuous Semites. I watched the abandoned woman thrust them down her throat in large voluptuous mouthful and in my polite way I discoursed on the condition of the drama in the Balkans. At last she finished.

" Coffee?" I said.
"Yes, just an ice-cream and coffee," she answered.

А вообще-то ростки выглядят очень специфично) Немцы любят делать вот такую ракламу)


(навеяло постом tosainu; все фотографии из инета)