In the Land of Artichokes

On our way back from a memorial service in Monterey this weekend, we drove north along the bay, first by seaside towns and sand dunes, then through fields of artichokes shrubs, their silver-green, thorny leaves extending in every direction. We were in Castroville, the self-proclaimed artichoke capital of the world.

Until 1922, Castroville farmers were scraping a living off sugar beets and other sundry vegetables. Then landowner Andrew Molera decided to try artichokes. The giant flower bud, prized by ancient Greeks and Romans and savored throughout southern Europe today, had arrived in California decades or even centuries earlier, but it had just begun to attract attention—and fetch good prices.

Molera found that the ’chokes thrived in the climate, similar to that of southern Europe where they evolved, and in the rich soil fed by the Pajaro and Salinas rivers. By 1929, the vegetable ruled the region, and the area now supplies the United States with the vast majority of its artichokes.

Castroville, naturally, hosts an annual artichoke festival (Marilyn Monroe was crowned the first artichoke queen in 1947) in spring, a time when ’chokes are abundant, though the plants produce year-round. Because artichokes are a favorite in our family, we picked up a bag of minis at a roadside stand and steamed them for dinner. The few left over became part of a potato and artichoke salad the next night: the potatoes were almost sugary, a reaction to artichokes’ aftertaste, which makes everything taste sweeter.

We also stopped in Moss Landing to buy live Dungeness off a boat. They weren’t as tasty as the ones we bought in Half Moon Bay. Was it the long drive home? Or are Half Moon Bay crabs simply better?