Sparrow grass

by | Apr 23, 2012

Sparrow grass
Shortly after moving into our first house I made a trench in the backyard and put down some asparagus crowns. The spot didn’t get enough light and over the next few years I never really got a satisfying harvest. The plants also got infested with asparagus beetles (Crioceris asparagi) regularly.
It’s hardly surprising that there would be a lot of specialized asparagus beetles in Hadley given its famed produce. You’ve got to wonder about how they get around to the widely dispersed backyard plots I’ve seen, but they do.
Upon returning home yesterday, I donned my darkest clothes and slunk over to my neighbor’s side yard. They are not lazy like I am and have put in a small asparagus plot. They also are experiencing a bad case of house renovation and can’t be there very often. The asparagus waits for no renovation, and, hell I gotta eat.
I didn’t make it far. It’s spring vacation for our children and so the boss and some of her associates were in the back yard sitting around a bottle of wine. The children were nowhere in sight. When I appeared with my purloined spears, the tallest associate with the surliest disposition demanded some. I had to hand out all of what I had. You see, freshly killed asparagus needs no cooking and tastes sweet and crisp. What my grandmother did to asparagus is inexcusable. That mushy stringy mess of olive drab offends me.
While we’re on the subject of offensive things, I would like to address some frequent misinformation. Asparagine is an amino acid that was first isolated by Pierre Jean Robiquet and Louis-Nicolas Vauquelin in 1806. Asparagine doesn’t smell bad. It is part of proteins that are in many of the foods we eat. In fact, we make asparagine in our own bodies. As such it is unlikely to produce that smell.
What does smell bad is certain sulfur containing compounds in the asparagus. Chief suspect is another molecule called asparagusic acid. I do realize that shares a lot of letters with asparagine, but it is not at all the same. It’s not a part of proteins and is an unusual compound. Actually, it’s thought that the plant may secrete it as a defense against predators. It sure didn’t work on the surly neighborhood moms.
If you don’t believe me, take a look at “Food Idiosyncrasies: Beetroot and Asparagus” a 2001 article in Drug metabolism and disposition by S. C. Mitchell. He’s from the Molecular Toxicology, Division of Biomedical Sciences, Imperial College School of Medicine, South Kensington, London, England, so he might know what he’s talking about. It’s a good thing our tax dollars aren’t paying for those studies.

Shortly after moving into our first house I made a trench in the backyard and put down some asparagus crowns. The spot didn’t get enough light and over the next few years I never really got a satisfying harvest. The plants also got infested with asparagus beetles (Crioceris asparagi) regularly.

It’s hardly surprising that there would be a lot of specialized asparagus beetles in Hadley given its famed produce. You’ve got to wonder about how they get around to the widely dispersed backyard plots I’ve seen, but they do.

My yard’s lack of aspargus hardly blunts my passion for the stuff, so upon returning home yesterday, I donned my darkest clothes and slunk over to my neighbor’s side yard. They are not lazy like I am and have put in a small asparagus plot. They also are experiencing a bad case of house renovation and can’t be there very often. The asparagus waits for no renovation, and, hell I gotta eat.

I quickly cut several spears and returned home. I didn’t make it far. It’s spring vacation for our children and so the boss and some of her associates were in the back yard sitting around a bottle of wine. The children were nowhere in sight. When I appeared with my purloined spears, the tallest associate with the surliest disposition demanded some. I had to hand out all of what I had. You see, freshly killed asparagus needs no cooking and tastes sweet and crisp. What my grandmother did to asparagus is inexcusable. That mushy stringy mess of olive drab offends me.

While we’re on the subject of offensive things, I would like to address some frequent misinformation. Asparagine is an amino acid that was first isolated by Pierre Jean Robiquet and Louis-Nicolas Vauquelin in 1806 from asparagus juice. Asparagine doesn’t smell bad. It is part of proteins that are in many of the foods we eat. In fact, we make asparagine in our own bodies. As such it is unlikely to produce that smell, because none of us smell bad.

What does smell bad is certain sulfur containing compounds in the asparagus. Chief suspect is another molecule called asparagusic acid. I do realize that shares a lot of letters with asparagine, but it is not at all the same. It’s not a part of proteins and is an unusual compound. Actually, it’s thought that the plant may secrete it as a defense against predators. It sure didn’t work on the surly neighborhood moms.

If you don’t believe me, take a look at “Food Idiosyncrasies: Beetroot and Asparagus” a 2001 article in Drug metabolism and disposition by S. C. Mitchell. He’s from the Molecular Toxicology, Division of Biomedical Sciences, Imperial College School of Medicine, South Kensington, London, England, so he might know what he’s talking about. It’s a good thing our tax dollars aren’t paying for those studies. (caveat emptor: the story related above has had some facts altered to mask the identities and habits of the participants).