Way back in September, when I was still just exploring Rue Cler, and my butcher hadn’t yet started making fun of me for the sheer amount of meat I buy (I like feeding other people!) I found these at Les Halles, my produce market. They were tiny and slightly pink, and I thought they were so adorable that I had to have them.
When I was growing up, we had steamed artichokes as big as baseballs, one per person, as an occasional side dish. We dipped each leaf in mayonnaise, and then my mother would cut the choke out so we could eat the heart. I haven’t eaten artichokes like that in a long time. For a moment, I thought that these artichokes were destined to be like those, but then I remembered some marinated, roasted artichokes we bought this summer at the Italian deli. They were coated in extra virgin olive oil and roasted with salt and black pepper. So that’s what I did with these little babies. So tender that only the tips and a few of the outside leaves had to be torn off before roasting, and then I ate them whole.
