I love the artichoke, but more importantly, I RESPECT the artichoke. It’s the only food I purchase from the grocery store, take home, and then wage epic battles against. It attacks. It draws blood. It makes a big effing mess of fluff, like I’ve been standing alone in my kitchen for hours slaughtering adorable baby ducks. Actually, now that I think about it, I could probably stuff a comforter with the fluff from inside an artichoke. But then it would come out in the middle of the night and kill me, which is why they call it a “choke.” Aggressive little boogers.
They’re a member of the thistle family. Fun fact! But the only thing I’ve ever heard of that eats thistles is Eeyore, and he never looks very happy, does he? I feel pretty happy when I eat artichokes, though that might correlate directly to the amount of butter I can transport to my maw with a single, delicately curved artichoke leaf.
The point is, sometimes I feel like donning my protective armor (bullet-proof vest, doc martens, cycling helmet, skiing goggles, and a trojan just in case it gets any ideas), and sometimes I do not. Tonight, I did not. And I used frozen artichoke heart quarters. And I’m not ashamed. There are a great many convenience foods that are terrible, have caused a nation of overweight, cancerous, lazy people who have no idea that food comes from a series of ingredients to feel completely content in their incapability, and taste like dick. Then there are a few that have made my life AWESOME.
-OreIda potato steamers (look it up–they’re awesome and un-messed with)
-Aseptically packed chicken stock (when I don’t have time to make my own)
-and basically all frozen vegetables, including artichoke hearts.
Freshly cleaned fryer of vegetable oil heated to 375 F.
and then you EAT IT LIKE IT MIGHT ESCAPE. Honestly, it might given its aggressive history.
We then sat in our pajamas with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s apiece watching Grandma’s Boy, and then played Gears of War 2, until a plot twist made me so sad that I was sobbing and we had to stop. It’s like we BOTH had PMS, except neither of us did.