There is a time in Southern Germany that is the highlight of any two weeks in a true Bavarian's calendar year. Oktoberfest, you say? The international celebration of all things oh-so-Bavarian: Beer in huge mugs, pretzels, lederhosen, and girls overflowing out of their lacy, aproned dirndls? Ah, no. Or possibly it is at Christmas time, during Nuremburg's famous Kristkindlmarkt, where one can enjoy hot mulled wine, full of cloves and brandy, or snack on a wurstchen and a little roll while watching the snowflakes float down all around? Charming, but no, not quite. No, the time I am referring to is a time of anticipation, of rebirth and new beginnings. It's a time known fondly, simply, as Spargel-zeit. As the time of the asparagus is painfully brief, the Bavarians celebrate it to excess for the entire fortnight or so. You know the magical time is at hand when the ladies begin whispering its predicted arrival date over their baskets at the outdoor maret in the fresh May mornings.
"Perhaps in the next week or two, leastways that's what Frau Meier said."
"Really? Well, I've heard from Hanna that Frau Beck said it might be in as little as five days!"
Chefs and home cooks begin dreaming of recipes both new and old, and debate the merits of the arguably most perfect preparation of these tender white stalks.
Though it is possible to discover green asparagus here, it is far more likely that you will encounter the more delicate flavor of the white variety. You can find either type year-round in the grocery super-store, but you'll have to be content with the tinny, slightly off flavor and mushy texture that comes from canned produce. No, best to enjoy the Spargel like a true Bavarian: seasonally, locally, preferably with hollandaise.
Ah yes, the hollandaise. While the pale yellow sauce may have originally been a French creation, I have no doubt that the Germans would take the lead in any competition of the hollandaise-making persuasion. They consume it with a staggering variety of dishes; over meats, chicken, fish, potatoes, "foreign" foods like dolmas or Spanish rice, and vegetables, of course including the near-holy asparagus. In fact, most Spargel enthusiasts will argue that a simple presentation of lightly steamed asparagus, with salt, pepper, and a generous ladling of smooth, rich hollandaise is the ultimate way to enjoy the perfection that is Spargel-zeit.
This magical two-week mini-season is truly feted. Every restaurant of any decency will offer a special separate menu, the Spargel Karte, in addition to its regular menu. The Spargel Karte can have as few as three or as many as thirteen items on it, all dishes featuring the glorious white asparagus. Asparagus soup, asparagus salad, asparagus pizza, asparagus with local fish, asparagus with eggs and ham, and of course, asparagus with hollandaise.
Home cooks and hausfraus will scour the local markets every morning searching for the finest most delicate spears. Once they've selected their favorites, they'll scoop them up in kilos. With a glass of crisp riesling, or a small mug of beer, the glorious Spargel is the toast of spring.
And then, as quick as it began, the asparagus begin to disappear from the markets, and the Spargel Karten become scarcer or with fewer selections. The time of the asparagus is over, and the Bavarian, sated and peaceful, begin to gear up for morning hikes and afternoons at the local swimming pool. The brief summer of Central Europe is at hand, hot and sticky and full of sun. Bearing the standard every year is the mighty and glorious asparagus.