We tout inventors and discoverers in textbooks and documentaries, but I've always kept a soft spot for those who are overlooked. Like the first person to eat an artichoke. No name, no history, no gastronomic glory.
A dangerous looking plant covered in spikes and bristles, it hardly conveys an "I'm yummy, eat me" message. Ergo, that artichoke-eating trailblazer was either utterly famished or unbelievably curious.
Did they find the heart immediately or did it take months of gnawing on leaves before the "eureka, there's actually something tasty buried in here" moment?
I was served my first artichoke at a dinner party. Such exotic vegetables were foreign to my mother's kitchen. If it didn't come in a Green Giant can, she didn't serve it. So I was embarrassed that I'd never seen an artichoke and even more embarrassed that I had absolutely no idea whether to attack it with a knife, a fork or a spoon. The side dish of garlic mayonnaise just added to the dilemma. Was it for slathering or dipping? Either approach seemed like deplorable table manners so I waited --- and watched.
Thankfully others at the table were artichoke-adept so I mimicked them --- until it was time to uncover the heart. The frustration got the better of me and I blurted out that I was indeed an artichoke novice in need of guidance.
Hundreds of artichokes later, I still imagine that first brave soul who deemed the plant edible. Here's to your one day being at least a cookbook footnote -- or even mentioned in Wikipedia.
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