Almost by accident I have a multi-stemmed clump of artichokes growing at the front of my yard.   This great big shrub was a transplant from an awkward space right at the edge of my driveway.  I think it was a donation of a bird passing by, or some long lost endeavor from a previous homeowner.  Anyway, it is thriving and continues to surprise me. I was asked the other day by one of my neighbors what kind of fertilizer I use. Pause, kind of an awkward moment, as I am sort of a lazy gardener. In the past, I have stopped by Starbucks to pick up their used coffee grounds. The soil in the front garden is clay, of course, and mine is very compacted. I figure that the coffee grounds might help loosen the soil and allow more air and moisture to reach down to the roots of the struggling plants.  I also drag the grass clippings from the back yard and spread them across this bed. But beyond these 2 amendments, nothing else has contributed to the prolific offerings we have enjoyed in the last  couple of years. 

When I dug up the driveway volunteer, I really gave little thought to the outcome.  If it made it, fine. No big investment besides a little time with my shovel and some occasional water.  

In fact, at the time I considered eating artichokes hardly worth the bother. The leaves frequently were so tough, the only enjoyment was when I finally got to the heart of the choke. Maybe good-tasting, but not so healthy. I hadn't really learned to cook the chokes well and thought smothered in butter or mayonnaise was the way to go. 

My mother didn't cook artichokes for us until my early teens, forget the year. It must have been one of those trendy dishes that popped up in the 60's. Not that she was a great cook, but she did like to experiment. So now that I have so many chokes, I figure I should spend a little time and give these little jewels some respect. I have found that although the leaves can bring pleasure scrapping the flesh away, the heart is where the bang is. I now steam the chokes in water with the juice of one of my Meyer lemons. I then toss them in a marinade of olive oil and  balsamic vinegar, once I trim the leaves and thistle.  Before serving I simmer the chokes with a good bit of the stem in a light marinara sauce. This results in a much healthier alternative to the mayo or butter versions. 

Inevitably we tire of chokes and I leave a few on the shrub to let them develop the beautiful purple choke flowers. The artichoke, like many of my favorite plants, originated in the Mediterranean. It is rather a large coarse looking shrub that reaches a good 6 feet in height and width, although Sunset says 4'x 6'. The shrub grows rather quickly in the spring. One day I just notice, oh there is the artichoke shrub again. Supposedly, once I harvest the last of this first crop, I should cut the main stem an inch above the ground. New sprouts are supposed to appear and produce a second crop. No harm in trying, maybe I'll get more chokes later this summer.