My friend next door she was struggling with growing broccoli. So I gave up the idea of cultivating broccoli before I even started. If she couldn't, I wouldn't. Then she handed me six tiny plants, referred to as, mysteriously, this unusual plant. It isn't truly broccoli, she explained. The plot thickened. Not being the kind of gardener who likes to get bogged down in specifics, I planted them directly and hoped for the best. Before I knew it, they grew to be waist and then towering. A jungle was taking shape. The moment came to start eating it.
It's always nice to discover something few individuals seem to be aware of. I got shakes of the head from an acquaintance with an impressive garden in the city; a seed supplier from Suffolk I sat next to on a train to Swansea; and a woman who took home most awards at a horticultural society event where I had been asked to give out trophies. I began to question if this was an elaborate trick.
It turns out, I read somewhere or other, that this plant is known as huauzontle in the country and as Chenopodium nuttalliae in scientific terms. Originating in Mexico, from the goosefoot family, related to the grain and amaranth. Very little of which meant anything to me, but I continued researching to find out it is considered by many as a superfood and is completely consumable, including its broccoli-like flower shoots.
Prior to the shoots appearing I just picked some foliage, stems and all, gave them a wash and cooked it like spinach. Delicious. Similar to spinach but retains more texture. In a similar way to spinach, a lot of it cooks down significantly. A sizable plant cooked down to one panful. No matter – 2 metres of bush grows back in a short time. Regarding the edible florets, I got embroiled in a very complicated recipe for a traditional Mexican thing called tortitas de huauzontle, where the blanched shoots are stuffed with cheese, dipped in flour mixture, and then fried. This proved too much for me, so I gave up and just cooked the broccoli-like shoots like, well, standard broccoli.
Over a few months I've grown passionate for the stuff, even possibly a little obsessive. I keep forcing armfuls of it on people. A companion received some to bring back and prepare for dinner and I've not heard from him since. However, if you're interested, come with a vehicle round to mine and I'll happily give you enough to make at least one dinner.
