The artichoke and how to eat it • Minimum Viable Blog

Photo of a pile of artichoke leaves on a white plate. They've all been scraped clean. Background: a patchwork tablecloth with a paisley pattern.

Some people have never eaten a whole steamed artichoke. This is…tragic.

Why should you eat an artichoke?

Because it’s the easiest thing you’ll cook this month. Seriously. No knife skills required. It’s a vegetable and it’s easier than Kraft mac and cheese.
Because it’s a frontrunner for “tastiest plant.” I keep trying to think of a vegetable to compare it to, but it’s milder than all of them. It sort of tastes like butter and sage?
Because it’s a calming ritual. Eating an artichoke takes about 20 minutes and involves three distinct stages, each better than the last.

I don’t know what else you want from me. Is it good for you? Yeah, dude, it’s a vegetable. Is it a superfood? Probably. It’s got folate and magnesium and stuff. Is it expensive? A little, yeah. About $4 a head in the off season. Goes on sale a few times a year. Even at full price it’s worth the occasional splurge, though.

^{A whole artichoke is not the same as canned artichoke hearts. Don’t even talk to me about canned artichoke hearts.}

Its spikes may seem intimidating, like it doesn’t want to be eaten. (The ancient Greeks called it kaktos.) But look, the recipe is two sentences long:

Cooking instructions

Steam the artichoke for about half an hour.

It’s done when the outer leaves come off with a firm but gentle tug.

Cooking objections

“I don’t have a steamer basket.” Okay. Put the artichoke in a pot with about an inch of water, throw the lid on, and simmer till done.

“I don’t have a pot.” You can cook an artichoke in a rice cooker. You can cook it in an Instant Pot. You can cook it in a microwave. Please. You must have something that can boil water.

“It looks poky.” Yeah, it’s a thistle. You can snip the leaf tips off with scissors if you want. Don’t cut off too much.

“The stem is getting in the way.” Cut it off. Leave half an inch or so to hold the artichoke together.

“I can’t cook anything without burning it.” Steaming and simmering are foolproof. As long as the pot doesn’t run out of water, you’ll be fine.

Eating instructions

You’ll want some kind of dip. (Or not. I’m not the boss of you.)

Melted butter is easy. Or any kind of salad dressing. Personally, I like to put a spoonful of mayonnaise in a bowl, thin it out with a splash of milk, and add a little salt. I’m fancy like that.

Phase 1: Outer leaves

Pull off a leaf. It looks like this.

Photo of a single artichoke leaf. It's a woody green color, paler around the edges, with a wide base.

^{This one is snipped. If yours isn’t, there will be a sharp point at the top.}

Don’t eat the entire leaf. The outside is tough and fibrous. The softer inside is where the flavor is. To get it, you’ll need to:

hold the tip
put the leaf almost all the way in your mouth
clamp down with your teeth
sliiiiiide the leaf out

like you’re scraping the cheese off a leather pizza slice.

Don’t forget about your dip. Dunk, then slide. Nature’s potato chips.

Phase 2: Inner leaves

The leaves get tenderer as you go inward. Some of them will shred while you’re scraping them and you’ll have to pick bits of artichoke paper out of your teeth. (Hey, I never said this would make you look smart.) Eventually you’ll find leaves that don’t have the fortitude for teeth-scraping. They’re purple on top, pale on bottom, and the pale part bites off like a gummy bear’s head.

Photo of an artichoke stripped down to the innermost leaves. They're dark purple on top, but change abruptly to a pale yellow color at the point where they flare outward. Below them is a thin, delicate, thorny-looking base.

You can dunk and bite one at a time, if you want, but there’s a more efficient way.

Grasp the top of the cluster with your fingertips, then pull. A whole skirt of leaves will come up at once, like this.

Photo of an artichoke 'skirt' held upside-down in someone's fingertips. It resembles a fibrous whirlpool, pale yellow around the edges fading to purple in the center.

You can dip the outer ring of the skirt and bite it all off in one go. Most artichokes have two or three layers like this.

Phase 3: Heart

Once the skirts are gone, the artichoke’s last line of defense is a cone of golden hair called the “choke.”

Photo of an artichoke's choke. It looks like a miniature circus tent made of hundreds of pale, straw-like fibers. Below is the same delicate base seen earlier.

Use a spoon to scrape it off. You’ll need a firm hand, but it should be a pretty clean operation if you scrape right at the roots.

Photo of a plate with the artichoke's choke piled up in pieces on the right side and the scraped-clean heart on the left side. The heart is brownish-green, circular, and slightly concave. It looks soft and almost alien. A fork is visible behind it.

^{I used a fork because I had one handy and I’ve done this before. I still recommend the spoon.}

Throw away the hair. What remains, the “heart,” is entirely edible. It’s tender, savory, and smooth, your reward for defeating the rest of the artichoke in battle. Most people agree it’s the best part. But it shouldn’t be the only part. The artichoke is an indivisible experience; if you skip the leaves, the heart won’t taste as good. Rules are rules.

Now dip and eat. You’ve earned it.