332 
THE GARDENERS’ MAGAZINE. 
10 , 1913 . 
I ASPARAGUS: I 
I ITS LITERARY AND CULINARY ASSOCIATIONS. | 
This well-known and delicious vegetable 
has been called the chameleon of the 
kitchen, and the season of 1912 was excep¬ 
tionally good; it was cheap and abundant, 
and of excellent flavour, provided you were 
able to secure a good type. 
There are many varieties of this succu¬ 
lent and favourite vegetable, both English 
and foreign. France grows it in large 
quantities, not only for its own, but for 
•file Engli^ market; but, nice as the 
French may be, I think all will allow that 
the English “ grass ” carries the palm for 
its delicious flavour. Holland, says the 
grand old horticulturist Loudon (of whom 
we shall speak later on in this paper) 
claimed that asparagus was brought to 
the greatest perfection in our own country, 
unless Holland perhaps; but we, I think, 
have succeeded in surpassing that country 
in these later years, and Loudon adds that 
without exception England could claim 
that the asparagus beds in his day at Dept¬ 
ford and Mortlake were the largest in the 
world. John Evelyn, the diarist tells us 
that Battersea was a noted place for as¬ 
paragus growing, and in the beginning of 
the last century it was cultivated largely 
in the Chelsea fields for the Covent Garden 
Market. 
Evelyn’s Eulogy.—John Evelyn, just 
mentioned, says, in his “ Acetaria ” : “ Next 
to flesh nothing is so nourishing as aspa¬ 
ragus.” This is as may be, and modern 
physicians might not, perhaps, endorse his 
verdict. Nevertheless, it is vastly appe¬ 
tising, and can be served in so many forms 
that it is a veritable chameleon of the 
kitchen. It is supposed, in old Herbals 
and such-like books, to soothe and still 
the action of the heart, in the same manner 
as foxgloves, and also to possess lithic and 
other medicinal properties. 
Although there are many methods of 
cooking asparagus, the old-fashioned, and 
simplest, alvc^ays remains the best, i.e., 
immerse the bundle in salted water, stand¬ 
ing it upright, so that about a couple of 
inches are above the water. The last five 
minutes of boiling or steaming the bundle 
should be laid down in the water, and the 
asparagus will be evenly cooked. Serve 
with melted or oiled butter, and hard- 
boiled, new-laid eggs divided into pieces 
and placed around the dish are a pretty 
and useful adjunct, and makes a very nice 
entree. There is a decided difference of 
opinion as to whether asparagus should be 
eaten hot or cold, but experts are inclined 
to agr^ that it is the one thing in 
the regions of gastronomy which should be 
lukewarm, neither hot nor cold. Such a 
state of things seems to bring out the 
flavour best. It is debatable, but cer¬ 
tainly worth trying. 
Asparagus makes a delicious salad eaten 
cold with olive oil and vinegar. The cere¬ 
brated French author, Fontenelle, who was 
a nephew of Corneille, and lived to the age 
of one hundred (1657-1757), was particu¬ 
larly fond of asparagus serv^ with oil, but 
he was intimately acquainted with an Abbe 
who preferred to eat his asparagus with 
butter. One day the Abbe dropp^ in un¬ 
expectedly to dine, and Fontenelle, who 
had ordered his favourite dish, with great 
forethought directed that half should be 
dressed with oil, and the rest with butter. 
Suddenly the Abbe, a man of plethoric 
habit, fell down in a fit, and died within 
five minutes. Fontenelle, without a 
moment’s delay, called to the cook, “ Dress 
them all with oil, all with oil, as I told 
you at first.” 
“ The Grass Club ” is a curious old- 
fashioned London dining club, that meets 
only once a year, its only object being the 
cult of asparagus, and its members are 
almost entirely prosperous middle-aged 
City men, who, for once in a way, abjure 
kickshaws and stick to plain Engh^ food. 
The dinner is annually the same. First, 
real turtle soup, thick and dear, after 
which mutton cutlets, and in front of every 
member is placed a dish of ten pounds tf 
asparagus. Ten pounds of asparagus 
means about five hundred stalks, and the 
whole idea of the feast is that, at any 
rate, once a year no man present shall be 
able to say that he cannot get enough as¬ 
paragus. He is not, of course, bound to 
eat it all, but it is amusing how much is 
consumed before the coniipany breaks up. 
A greedy custom, maybe^ but with some¬ 
thing quaint and attractive about it 
nevertheless. 
Charles Lamb was of opinion that as¬ 
paragus “inspired gentle thoughts.” 
Charles Dickens refers to it in “ Dombey 
and Son” when describing Dr. Blimber’s 
educational establishment at Brighton : “ It 
was a great hothouse, in which there was 
a forcing apparatus incessantly at work. 
All the boys blew before their time. Mental 
green peas were produced at Christmas, 
and intellectual asparagus all the year 
round.” 
The anecdotal end of the asparagus is 
as substantial as the actual. Dean Swift 
and George Faulkener, the Dublin Aider- 
man and bookseller, who printed and pub¬ 
lished for Swdft, were dining at the 
Deanery. Asparagus was served, and the 
guest asked for a second helping. Swift 
pointed to his plate, and said, “ Sir, first 
finish what is before you! ” “What, sir,” 
answered Faulkener, “ eat my stalks ? ” 
“Ay, sir,” replied the Dean in his most 
imperious manner, “ eat your stalks, or you 
will have no more. King William the 
Third always ate his stalks.” When relat¬ 
ing this story Faulkener was often asked, 
“ Did you really eat your stalks ? ” And 
he always replied, “Yes, certainly; and if 
you had been dining with Dean Swift, you 
would have eaten your stalks too.” 
It is quite a poetic idea that the aspara¬ 
gus is really a lily, or, rather, of the lily 
family, and it is written : “ When we hear 
that it is ranked with the asphodelos, we 
are ready to believe that the fields of as¬ 
phodel in which the blessed roam in Ely¬ 
sium must be beds of asparagus.” It is 
pleasant to think that this Elysian lily, 
though it does not look in the least like 
a lily when it comes to table^ is a real 
old English delicacy. One of its old coun¬ 
tryside names is paddock cheese. Kindred 
plants -are Solomon’s seal and butcher’s 
broom. But these are merely the bye-ways 
of botany. 
A dictionary of 1791 says, “Sparrow 
grass is now so general that * asparagus ’ 
has an air of stiffness and p^antry.” 
Samuel Pepys used “sparrow-grass” and 
also “sparagus.” A grave Latin author 
refers to the cookery of lobster with as¬ 
paragus, a course which has been adopted 
by modern chefs, and in Juvenal’s Eleventk 
Satire he promises his friend Peree^ 
plate of mountain asparagus whiob had 
been gathered by his farmers wife 
Throughout classical gastronomic literatnre 
there are innumerable references to the 
virtues and excellences of asparagus, tad 
its alkaloid asparagin, so that one’msy 
gratefully welcome its vernal appeaniM* 
with every mark of gentle appreciation. 
And now I should like to give you a 
charade which an uncle of mine quoted 
when I was a child. It might have bm 
his own. It runs thus: 
“ My first’s a little thing that hops; 
My second yields us g<K)d hay crops; 
My whole we eat with mutton chops.” 
(To be continued.) 
JANK^A HELDREICHI. 
It is probably fortunate that the wonder¬ 
fully beautiful Janksea Heldreichi is so 
scarce and expensive that it is beyond the 
means of the average lover of alpin 
flowers. I may be met with the argumeit 
that it wovdd be more widely grown were 
it cheaper to begin with, but I would meet 
this with the counter-argument that if it 
were cheaper there would be far more who 
would be doomed to lament their tem^ty 
in purchasing it with weeping and wailing 
and gnashing of teeth. The truth is thit 
the Janksea cannot endure our climate in 
any but a few favoured spots on the roeb 
work, and thnt it is not suit^ for the 
many who cannot always give it what it 
wants. « 
Have we not seen many plants, carei^ 
purchased, planted according to the mw 
approved teaching, and tended with watdi* 
ful care, succumb despite of all the coax¬ 
ing and attention that could be given to 
them ? How few could be seen, a year or 
two-after, happily established far 
Balkan home in this land of ours, 
could be counted on the fingers of 
hand, and it would be wrong to endeayo 
to persuade the reader to .. 
plant of Janksea Heldreichi. Not that» 
cannot be cultivated, for, so far ^ . 
goes, the lovely Eritirichium nanum i 
still more difficult plant, but there 
few-.few indeed-^who can 
manently with this silvery-foliaged, 
pale violet flower. • j. 
One calls it silvery-leaved, an 
because Hie foliage is covered with j 
almost felt-like, down which gives 
appearance. This is the Protection 
like to our climate. That p , 
against th« dry cold of .bow 
climate is its weakness in ours. 
means death to the k • 
be dry at the roots. Its id^l 
little, very tiny, cavern m the roc 
where not a drop of rain ^ 
leaves, and where it is shields 
sun, yet where its roots can ^ in 
stantly moist. It is a treat 
such a place, thriving and on 
year to year, and giving its - gad 
the silvery, downy leaves. Ah^ . 
is to fail with such a charming P 
how glowing the delight one e pe 
when one sees it doing vrell. . 
Such a plant is worth puthnsins* 
cost of a pound or two, to tne 
with means, who is not content _ 
defeated, hut who is ^ 
To the man who wishes to 
highest summits of alpine ^a* 
quering of the Jankaea is bid 
achievement worth making a o 
