wild asparagus + ricotta + lemon {pasta}

I’m sitting on my terrace in Rome as I write this. This is not intended to make you jealous, I just wanted to let you know that Spring has finally arrived. And spring is such a fleeting thing in Rome, I enjoy it to it’s fullest. Because that sweet spot between too cold to sit on our terrace, and blazing heat seems to be way too short.

Kind of like the wild asparagus season.

I know that most of the people who read my blog are living in the States, and right now it’s ramps this and ramps that. I admit right here that I’ve never had a ramp. But I do understand your excitement for something that is so delicious, and so short lived in seasonality, that you just try to get as much of it while you can.

Kind of like me spending time on my terrace. And definitely like wild asparagus season.

These spindly spears start showing up in the market in April, if we’re lucky. By mid May they are long gone. But as much as I love them, I can never bring myself to pay the extraordinarily high prices these little bunches go for. Even if I do understand why they are so expensive.

I should know, since I’ve been diligently hitting the woods behind our house in Umbria each spring, in search of ever bigger bundles. They are incredibly difficult to find.
 
Actually, even though the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is a delicious meal, I have to admit that the hunt for them is also one of my favorite things to do. I’m usually with my friend Jane, and we head out on Saturday and Sunday mornings, after breakfast, special asparagus picker thingies in hand, and wander for hours in the woods and through the olives groves.  We look, we chat, we pick and just generally enjoy our walk. In those early years we were horrible at it, definitely doing more chatting than picking, and coming back home with a dozen pathetic spears. But over time we have gotten pretty good at it, and this year we definitely impressed ourselves with our huge harvest.

I’m not sure if it was the heavy winter rains? Or just that our eyes have gotten really good at discerning the bright green of the asparagus amid the bright green of everything else this time of year. But whatever the reason, we returned with a huge bunch of wild asparagus.

In lean years, a measly harvest goes into something simple like a frittata or bruschetta. But I had so much to work with this year, that pasta seemed in order.

I had the buffalo milk ricotta that always turns up in my bag as a gift from the mozzarella store in Orte. And the winter lemons from our trees in Todi. And to make the intense taste of the asparagus go even further, I used the woody stalks to make a broth that I used for both boiling the pasta in and for loosening up the ricotta.

Because that’s the thing with these wild asparagus. The tips are definitely edible, but each one is an essay in indecision when it comes to prepping them. Too tough to eat? Where do I make the cut? How much gets thrown away? That’s why I use up the discards, to make sure I suck every last bit of goodness from our hard work.

While you probably won’t be able to get wild asparagus in the States (I’d love to hear if they exist?) you can definitely make this recipe with small, pencil thin asparagus.

And no, you can’t make this with ramps. Sorry. But if you are coming to Rome and want to bring me some, I’d certainly love to try them. And could offer you a bunch of wild asparagus, hand picked, in exchange. At least for the next week or two.

pasta with wild asparagus, ricotta and lemon

1 pound/ 1/2 kilo pasta*
1 pound / 1/2 kilo wild (or pencil thin) asparagus
1 small onion, chopped
2 tablespoon olive oil
2 tablespoons butter
1 cup ricotta
peel from one untreated lemon
juice from one lemon

*Full disclosure: I used a package of pasta that was sent to me by Rustichella. I ran into them at Taste in November, and they very kindly followed up my visit with a box full of their pasta to try. While I’m very familiar with one of the best brands of pasta in Italy, it’s been fun trying out some of the shapes I wasn’t so familiar with. The bag of slightly curly sagne seemed perfect for this dish. Sagne is one of those pasta names that can mean different things to different people. But typically it is a shape from Abruzze, made with just flour and water. Rustichella’s interpretation worked perfectly with the slightly thick ricotta/asparagus mixture, with the curly cue edges making sure the bits of asparagus were well distributed.

Using a potato peeler, peel the lemon. Finely chop the peel and add to the ricotta, mixing it well in a small bowl. Let this sit while you prepare the rest of the pasta. (the longer the peel sits with ricotta, the stronger the lemony taste)

Prepare your asparagus. If you’re using wild asparagus, this is going to be a heart breaking experience, since you feel like you are discarding so much. But be disciplined, because there is nothing worse than having to pick out a stringy piece of asparagus while trying to enjoy a meal. Use your judgement. With a knife, hold the asparagus and start cutting off pieces from the tip down, into inch long pieces. When you can’t easily cut anymore (and this may happen fairly quickly) place the woody stem aside.

Bring a large pot of water to boil. Add about a tablespoon of salt, and then add the woody asparagus stems. Let them simmer, with the lid on, for about 40 minutes. Don’t let the water boil away.

In the meantime, in a saute pan that will be large enough to hold all the pasta later, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add onions, and 1 tsp salt, and let cook gently for about 15 minutes until softened. Don’t let it brown.

Add the asparagus tips, and cook until tender, scooping up a bit of the asparagus broth from the bigger pot to add (about a 1/4 to 1/2 cup). This probably won’t take very long, don’t let them over cook and get mushy.

Drain the big pot of asparagus broth, RESERVING THE BROTH, but throwing away the stems. Bring the broth back to a rolling boil, and add the pasta.

When the pasta is almost done, take about a half cup of the pasta/asparagus water and add it to the ricotta, stirring to make it smooth.

Drain the pasta, (reserving a cup of the pasta water, in case you need more later) and toss with the asparagus mixture and the butter. Add the ricotta, and lemon juice, tossing again. If the whole thing seems too thick and heavy, add a bit more of the reserved pasta water to loosen it up.

I don’t serve this dish with grated cheese, because the flavor of the asparagus is so delicate, I think it would overwhelm it.