Yes, this article is actually about broccoli

S

o my editor just handed me a press release from the BBC that says at the very top in overly large letters, “Britain’s courgette crisis.”

Since I had no idea what that meant, I read the first sentence, which helpfully explained, “Britain is currently in the throes of a courgette crisis.”

My first guess was that they were having trouble with one of those cute little sports cars they make over there. 

Then, working on the model of “suffragette,”  I thought maybe a courgette was a courageous woman. But then I recalled that British suffragettes were called “suffragists,” so that was a no-go.

Fortunately, that quick dip into British-isms reminded me that “courgette” is what they call zucchini over there.

(Those wacky Brits have different names for lots of things — elevators, sweaters, suffragettes, orthodontics.)

Anyway, the BBC release went on to say that “shoppers are struggling to find the on-trend vegetable on supermarket shelves.” 

For me, the most troubling thing about this news is that British writers are now using the term “on-trend,” which should be banned from all civilized vocabularies everywhere.

The true crisis: taste

My editor wants me to write about the zucchini crisis in Britain. To me, though, the true zucchini crisis is occurring here in the U.S., where we have lots of the stuff and people sometimes expect me to eat it.

Zucchini is not one of my favorite vegetables. I don’t actually have any favorite vegetables, but if I did, zucchini would not be among them. To me, it tastes like water wrapped in a rind, and a rind is not something I look for in my water. What I look for in my water is Darryl Hannah, but that’s nothing more than a joke that demonstrates how old I am.

Fortunately, farther down the page, the BBC quoted the assistant secretary of the National Vegetable Society (seriously) as saying that “the crisis is affecting broccoli, too.”

And now, the good news

This was good news to me, not because I wish to deny my English cousins their broccoli, which they have the good sense to call by its correct name, but because I actually like broccoli and therefore could write something marginally intelligent about it.

Obviously, though, I would need to begin with some research. The first website I looked at told me that broccoli has been grown in Europe for centuries, but in the United States only since 1925; that California grows the most broccoli, but it is grown in almost every state; that consumption of fresh broccoli has increased from 1.4 pounds per person 35 years ago to 6.7 pounds per person today, making it the 11th-most-consumed fresh vegetable. 

At some point, one of my colleagues noticed that I had fallen asleep at my desk and was drooling on my keyboard. He woke me up before the inevitable short circuit caused the keyboard to burst into flames, and I tried to find out something about broccoli that was actually interesting.

I learned that broccoli is a cool-season (whatever that means) vegetable closely related to cauliflower (no surprise there; I’d always assumed cauliflower was simply albino broccoli anyway) and cabbage.

But then I came to doubt everything on that site when I ran into the phrase “requiring similar production requirements.” I decided to look for different information differences, and clicked on.

The next site I found, apparently affiliated somehow with the state of California, started off by saying that California produces 90 percent of broccoli in the U.S., while Arizona ranks number two. I can only assume this unprovoked jab at Arizona stems from some college rivalry in the writer’s past.

Said writer went on to explain that “15 to 20 percent of broccoli is exported to Canada, Japan and Taiwan.” I don’t know if that means 15 to 20 percent of the broccoli grown in California, in the U.S., or in the world, but honestly, who cares?

Still in the same sentence, I learned that we rank third in the world “for broccoli,” after China (number one) and India (number two). Again, I’m unclear as to whether we rank third for broccoli consumption, broccoli production, or simply a general appreciation of broccoli.

I should have moved on, but  this website compelled my attention like a slow-motion train wreck. Three very short paragraphs later, scant inches below the facts I just related about California’s predominance, exporting to Canada, and China being number one, I came upon this:

“California is the nation’s top broccoli grower.… We produce over 90 percent of broccoli in the U.S. and ship around 15 to 20 percent to countries such as Canada. The top grower of broccoli in the world is China. There is no broccoli festival in California these days.”

So, based on my several minutes of intensive research, I think I can state unequivocally that not only does broccoli — a cup of it, anyway — provide 100 percent of our daily requirements of vitamins C and K, it also makes you completely unable to write English coherently. 

Which is too bad, because I need to be able to write English at least semicoherently in order to make a living, and, as I said, broccoli is one of the few vegetables I like.

The two things I like best about broccoli are 1) it doesn’t taste terrible, and b) it’s stupidly easy to cook.

Sure, you can find plenty of recipes that involve olive oil and garlic and lemon butter and pesto and quinoa and stuff. But the one thing all these recipes have in common is that they take time and effort.

Broccoli the easy way

Broccoli, a pot, a lid, a sink.

Cut the broccoli into florettes, unless you bought broccoli florettes, in which case you can skip this step.

Put a little bit of water in the pot — not so much that it’ll cover more than a bit of the broccoli, but not so little that it will boil away before you’re done.

Bring the water to a boil. Turn the heat down to “really low,” put the broccoli inside the pot, and put the lid on top of the pot.

Let the broccoli steam for six to seven minutes — no more. Then take it out of the pot and serve it.

(If you happen to have one of those steamer things that expands and contracts like a flower and fits in the bottom of the pot to keep the steamee out of the water, feel free to use it. But it isn’t necessary. I inherited one from my mom, and I amuse myself by playing with it while the broccoli is cooking. It’s pretty cool.)