A HARTE APPETITE: NO GILDING THIS LILY

* Asparagus, the king of vegetables and the vegetable of kings, should be served simply.

I'm not a vegetarian, but one of the most memorable meals I've ever eaten contained no meat and consisted entirely of a single vegetable.

It was a few years ago during a springtime visit to Maastricht, the southernmost city in the Netherlands, a town practically within walking distance of the German border. It was Spargelzeit (asparagus time) in Germany, so one afternoon my wife and I hopped a train, and before we knew it we were shopping at a delightful German outdoor market which featured row upon row of that luxurious stalk. We splurged and bought several pounds of the vegetable and then hurried back to our Maastricht apartment to cook it.

That night we gorged ourselves on asparagus, nothing but asparagus, following the late James Beard's advice not to serve it sparingly and proving to ourselves the truth of his observation that "if asparagus is fresh and properly cooked, it needs nothing but freshly ground pepper and salt, and it is best eaten with the fingers." That meal was as satisfying and opulent as any I've ever had in a three-star restaurant.

It seems perfectly sensible to me to make an entire meal out of asparagus and to consider such a repast extraordinary. After all, asparagus is, as the French say, the king of vegetables and the vegetable of kings. Louis XIV liked it so much he had it grown in the royal greenhouse so he could eat it all year long. For most of us, though, it's a treat limited to just a few weeks during spring, which makes it all the more special. (It's hard to believe, as Rosso and Lukins tell us in the Silver Palate Cookbook, that in Russia the spears are so abundant that cows graze on them! I'm envious.)

We ought to feel special when eating asparagus, because, according to Maguelonne Toussaint-Samat, author of the History of Food, during the 19th century asparagus, like meat, was food for the privileged.

"Few country people ever tasted either," she notes, "and even in towns only a very small minority ... could eat such things."

The famous French gastronome, Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, reported that the vegetable sold for as much as 40 francs a bundle at the Paris shop of Mme. Chevet, a horrifically high price for the typical workingman of the era who earned only 2 1/2 francs a day. Just as now, the cost reflected the fact that asparagus, especially the white variety preferred in Europe, is expensive to cultivate. Often requiring daily harvests, which must be done by hand, it may take as many as five years to establish a crop that will turn a profit, since spears can't be cut until three years after they are planted. Add to that the fact that after trimming often only about half of it is edible and you realize just how extravagant a treat asparagus is. No wonder that in his book, "American Cookery," Beard complained about the practice of cutting asparagus "shockingly long" just to increase its weight and up its price.

But its expense notwithstanding, asparagus has been a coveted vegetable for centuries. There is evidence, for example, that the Egyptians even presented bundles of it as offerings to their gods. The ancient Greeks, from whom we get the name of the vegetable (it means "sprout" or "shoot") preferred wild asparagus and as early as 200 B.C. the Romans developed techniques to cultivate it, sometimes growing stalks as large as three to a pound, much to the dismay of Pliny, who contended that nature ordained it should grow untamed.

The Romans also pioneered freezing asparagus by sending chariots full of it up the Tiber River to the Alps where it would be kept in snow for months. Appropriately, they would serve it on the Feast of Epicurus. Roman emperors such as Caesar Augustus (whose phrase for urging haste was "quicker than you can cook asparagus") even designated special boats, the asparagus fleet, for transporting the vegetable.

Apparently the Arabs introduced asparagus into Spain and from there it spread to France, the largest producer in Europe, where the town of Argenteuil near Paris became famous for it. Dutch and English colonists brought asparagus to North America in the 1700s and by the middle of the next century it was being cultivated in California, now the country's major producer, though Oceana County in Michigan, where the National Asparagus Festival is taking place this week, has proclaimed itself the asparagus capital of the nation.

Though one of the most popular varieties of asparagus is named after Martha Washington, when it comes to appreciating the plant, we're still amateurs compared to Germany where during the season virtually every restaurant features a special asparagus menu (a Spargelkarte), magazines are filled with recipes for it, and organized tours to asparagus farms (asparagus weekends) are not uncommon. There's even an asparagus museum near Munich.

Besides being delicious, asparagus has other virtues. The ancients believed it had medicinal qualities and so did the early American Indians. Today we know it is a rich source of folate, a vitamin that may lower the risk of heart disease and certain types of cancer and it contains lots of potassium, which can have a salutary effect on blood pressure. It is a natural diuretic. Asparagus has also been considered by some as an aphrodisiac, for reasons probably best not discussed in a family newspaper.

But still the best reason to devour asparagus is because it tastes so good, and the truth is, like a ripe tomato or a fresh raspberry, the less done to it the better. Thus, Edith Jones, a German-born Spargel aficionado who now works as a speech pathologist at Southeast Missouri Hospital and who fondly remembers her father growing the vegetable, recommends simply steaming or boiling it and serving it in classic Teutonic fashion with thinly sliced ham, hard boiled egg and melted butter. That's good advice. Asparagus, after all, is a member of the lily family and it hardly needs gilding.

Here are some asparagus tips for selecting and cooking perfect spears. Choose firm, bright green stalks with compact tips and no ridges. Store asparagus with the ends submerged in water or swaddled in damp paper towels and serve it as soon as possible, preferably the day you buy it. Trim each stalk by simply bending it until the tougher end breaks off with a snap. You need not peel asparagus unless it is especially thick. The thickness of the stalk, by the way, is merely an indication of the plant's maturity. Contrary to popular wisdom, there is no reliable relationship between thickness and tenderness. Cook asparagus on its side in barely boiling water in a large frying pan until just done. You really don't need one of those fancy vertical cookers. Or you can drizzle asparagus with olive oil and roast it in a 500-degree oven for 8-10 minutes.

Though it's hard to beat plain asparagus prepared this way, it's also only fair to note that the vegetable can elevate a quiche, enrich a risotto, enhance a frittata, embellish a plate of pasta or jazz up a bowl of potato salad. And it makes a heavenly soup too. So if you are fortunate enough to have a sufficient supply of asparagus with which to experiment, I've stalked out some recipes you may wish to try.

Stir Fry of Asparagus with Pears

In this country if you want to get rid of somebody you might say, "Go fly a kite!" But in Spain they say, "Vete a freir esparragos!" which means "Go fry asparagus!" This dish, developed for the Executive Health's Good Health Report, is a delicious way to comply with such a request. Serve it with rice, couscous or, better yet, German pancakes.

Ingredients:

1/2 pound chicken fingers

1 tablespoon oil

2 cups sliced asparagus

1 cup sliced mushrooms

1 cup sliced red bell peppers

1/2 cup sliced onion

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons fresh tarragon or 1 tablespoon dried

2 cups sliced pears

2 tablespoons lemon juice

Directions:

Toss pears with lemon juice. Saut chicken pieces in oil until cooked through. Add asparagus, mushrooms, peppers, onions, salt and tarragon and cook until crisp-tender. Add pears and cook until heated through. Serves 4.

Asparagus and Rhubarb Custard Pie

Believe it or not, asparagus can function as dessert under the right circumstances. An asparagus and rhubarb pie even took the grand prize at last year's National Asparagus Festival. This is my take on the combination, adapted to my preference for custard pies.

Ingredients:

1 unbaked 9-inch pie shell

2 cups diced rhubarb

2 cups diced asparagus

2/3 cup sugar

2 eggs

1 cup cream

1 tablespoon cornstarch

Directions:

Parboil asparagus for 4 minutes and combine with rhubarb and sugar, tossing to coat until sugar is fully moistened. Transfer to pie shell. Combine eggs, cream, and cornstarch and pour over rhubarb mixture. Bake at 425 degrees for 10 minutes. Reduce oven temperature to 400 degrees and bake until puffed and golden and knife inserted in center comes out clean, 35-40 minutes. Serves 6.

Asparagus and Ham Brunch Bread

This recipe devised by Foodland Ontario and recently printed in the Ottawa Citizen makes a delicious main course that needs only a light salad as an accompaniment.

Ingredients:

3 cups biscuit mix

1 teaspoon dried tarragon

1/2 teaspoon dry mustard

1/2 teaspoon pepper

2 eggs

1 1/2 cups milk

2 pounds fresh asparagus

1 cup diced ham

1 onion, chopped

1 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Directions:

Combine biscuit mix and seasonings. Beat eggs slightly and combine with milk. Pour over dry mixture and stir until smooth. Spread half of batter in a greased 9x13-inch pan. Trim asparagus and place half of it over batter in a single layer. Sprinkle with ham, onion and half of cheese. Pour remaining batter over top. Place remaining asparagus spears over batter and sprinkle with remaining cheese. Bake at 375 degrees for 35-40 minutes, until golden brown and wooden pick inserted in center tests clean. Cool 20 minutes before serving. Serves 6.

Listen to A Harte Appetite every Saturday at 11:59 a.m. following "Whad'ya Know" on KRCU, 90.9 FM. Send suggestions for this column to A Harte Appetite, c/o The Southeast Missourian, P.O. Box 699, Cape Girardeau, Mo., 63702-0699 or by e-mail to tharte@semovm.semo.edu.