Grilled Artichokes

Grilled Artichokes | The Kitten Kitchen

Sung to the tune of “O Tannenbaum

::clears throat::

Oh, artichokes.
Oh, artichokes.
I dip you in some butter.

Oh, artichokes.
Oh, artichokes.
I dip you in some butter.

You fill me up in summertime.
I eat you in a bunch-a bites.

Oh, artichokes.
Oh, artichokes.
I dip you in some butter.

If you don’t know already, now you do—I, Daniele Cusentino, love artichokes. Boiled, stuffed, grilled, you-name-it, I’ll eat it. I especially love artichoke hearts, and if there were an award available to people that can eat a jar in one sitting, I would be a contender.

Since we’re coming up on a long celebratory weekend here in the good ol’ USA, I figured I would share a grilled, easily transportable version of artichokes to take wherever your family units will be gathering.

Disclaimer: Be prepared to answer a few questions since people tend to get weird around artichokes. It’s only because they look strange, and people aren’t quite sure how to eat them. Teach them, you shall. And if you’re clueless, too, that’s okay! You’ll be prepared to field all the inquiries after reading this entire blog post.

Get grillin’ after the jump

Stuffed Artichokes

Stuffed Artichokes

Artichokes are kind of a sentimental thing for me. My mother made them all the time throughout my childhood, and I sort of took it for granted — I didn’t realize that she was preparing a special thing. The first time I put a full artichoke in front of Chris, he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. I think many people probably feel that way because they are sort of intimidating. So, how do you eat an artichoke?

Well, you boil them first, then the world is your oyster. Or, in this case, the artichoke is your oyster. Or the world is your artichoke? My mother, brother and I just dipped the leaves into a mixture of olive oil, garlic salt and red wine vinegar. We’d use our teeth to pull the tender leaf meat off, and then discard the pointy inedible ends onto a paper plate. We’d then pull the prickly parts out of the center and dig the heart out, placing it into the bowl of leftover oil and vinegar — this is the only part where you need a fork. We’d cut it into pieces and savor the best part (the goal, really) of the artichoke journey.  The end result is a mound of leaves on a dampened paper plate, but satisfied bellies were a common conclusion.

Artichokes are a springtime treat and shouldn’t be scary. I’ve never stuffed them before, and I’ve never really eaten them in any other way than what you just read above, so I was interested to see if I’d like them prepared otherwise.

Um, I did. A lot. And while Chris didn’t particularly enjoy the stink of the Gorgonzola cheese during preparation, he also enjoyed them.

Stuff your own artichokes after the jump!