“Gentlemen are asked to refrain from urinating in the umbrella stand during asparagus season”

I have no idea where I first heard this quote, but I will readily quote it to anyone who'll listen at the drop of a hat.

Yesterday, I resurrected some apparently past-it spears from the fridge, the sticker on the packet ominously warned me that they should've gone to the bin last weekend, yet with their heads firm & stalks breaking with a satisfying pop, I was satisfied that the chunky little chaps still had everything to play for. Another victory for vegetable kind & one in the eye for Alan Alarmist & his scaremongering ilk.

There's a lot of guff about steaming/chucking asparagus into boiling water a couple or three minutes before any further titivations, omitting this step, I believe is where I went wrong,
I elected to throw my stubby alien finials into a shallow roasting tin with a glug of olive oil & a splish of balsamic vinegar at a highish heat for 15mins & be damned. Alas, it appears this isn't the way to get the best out of the stuff. Once cooked I stirred in some rocket then crumbled up some feta, salt pepper then down the gullet...disappointingly they had a rather challenging fibrous chaff that had me reaching for the floss moments after downing tools when the last mouthful had been delivered.

But of course long after I'd flossed & forgotten all about it, I was reminded what the hidden charm for me is: the akrid sugerpuff waft experienced when mixturating anytime thereafter, it's like any sort of bodily odour - can't stand anyone else's, but my own has my undivided attention.