Garlic scapes, the scrapple of vegetables, have gone gourmet.
Scapes are the flowering, curly, central stalk of the garlic plant, and growers snip them off around this time of year so the plant puts energy into the bulb instead of the bud.
After that, scapes used to land in the compost pile - or perhaps on the plate of an especially frugal farmer, the sort who came up with scrapple because he didn't want to let perfectly good hog offal go to waste. At best, scapes might get to round out the farmer's Poke Salad, a dish made with a weed that must be double-boiled because it's full of poison.
Yet lately, scapes are turning up on the pages of glossy food magazines, at farmers' markets and in fancy restaurants.
Because chefs and home cooks alike have started dealing directly with farmers, because recession gardeners appreciate that old everything-but-the-squeal thrift, or simply because those garlicky stalks make a beautiful pea-green pesto, this curlicue's time has come.
"This was packed full today," said Jim Crebs, motioning to a big, near-empty basket at his booth at the Baltimore Farmers' Market under the JFX. Crebs began harvesting scapes a couple of weeks ago at Tomatoes Etc. Produce in Westminster and expected to sell out this week or next. He charges two for $1.
Scapes seem to be catching on with foodies hungry for something
at once exotic and local.
"If you look at the past with food, the standard 5-by-6 [inch] tomato, the emphasis was on the same size, and same flavor and same texture," said Christian deLutis, chef de cuisine at The Dogwood in Hampden, who uses pureed scapes in place of leeks in vichyssoise. "And now, Americans are willing to eat things that are different looking, that they haven't had before."
At farmers' markets, scapes rate lots of double-takes for the same reason they're nicknamed pigtails: They grow into a loop on one end, like an asparagus spear that's lost its way.
Attracted by the odd shape, Erin Robb of Waverly bought a few from Crebs on a recent Sunday.
"They're interestingly boingy," she said.
Another taker was Kit Wood, a Washington caterer who'd had them before. She was preparing a meal for Friends of the Earth's board meeting. The food had to be good - and local.
"They like to walk their talk," said Wood, who figured she'd use them in a salad.
