You can get asparagus all year, but in November it just feels wrong. When spring arrives with its customary shyness, it’s perky asparagus that assures me that warmer days are ahead.
Asparagus comes thin, fat, green, purple, and white — though I don’t get the hype about those pale ones. Back when baby vegetables were every chef’s obsession, pencil-thin stalks were in. They have a place, but plump stalks are what you need for a full-on asparagus experience.
Full-bodied spears have woody ends, and someone has probably told you that to end up with just the tenderest part you should bend the stalks until they snap at their natural breaking point. But when my Paris-trained chef friend Paul showed me how to peel asparagus it was a revelation. Why was I throwing away a third of the stem?
A Y-peeler makes easy work of this and, if needed, you can trim off just the toughest end. Stripping the tough skins from the spears feels like a meditation. Peeling reveals ombré tones of yellow, green, and chartreuse — the stuff of an artist’s still life. And the asparagus cooks more evenly when it’s been peeled.
The purity of freshly steamed asparagus dragged through a pool of extra-virgin olive oil with a sprinkle of flaky sea salt is my ritual start of spring.
As the season advances, so does my relationship to asparagus. Spears get roasted at high heat until the tips char and crisp like a virtuous version of French fries. Or shaved raw into salads. Or crosscut into coins that dot a risotto scattered with lemon zest and handfuls of Parmigiana Reggiano.
Once I’m ready to allow my asparagus to mingle with bolder flavors, I make a stir fry.
Much has been written about this classic Chinese technique. I am inspired by Grace Young, who received this year’s James Beard Humanitarian of the Year award for her advocacy for Chinatown communities during Covid. Young is the author of several cookbooks, including Breath of a Wok. Because of her, a wok always sits on my stove.
You don’t have to have a wok to make a stir fry. A large heavy-bottomed skillet will do. But I’ve incorporated mine in my cooking beyond stir-frying — it’s great for popcorn, whipped egg white omelets, Indian-spiced potatoes.
The key to stir frying is getting the pan super-hot. You can’t compete with the temperatures of restaurant wok ranges at home. But having cooked in pro and home kitchens, I’ve learned each environment has its advantages. For example, a risotto comes out better gently cooked at home. And I learned to cook wonderful home-style meals from a Cantonese woman who had an electric stove.
This dish starts with marinating chicken (I prefer thigh to breast) in a mixture of egg white, corn starch, and Shao Xing rice wine (for which dry sherry is a fine substitute). This can be a template for many variations — instead of chicken, use pork tenderloin, whole shrimp, or scallops.
You’ll notice the quantities of soy sauce and hoisin are very small — but it’s enough to add body and a jab of umami without overwhelming the asparagus. These Chinese condiments last for a long time in the refrigerator. Buy them and you will have them around for marinades, dipping sauces, and other stir fries, or brushing on grilled meats.
The egg white is a solo tablespoon. Save the rest of the egg for breakfast or for fried rice. We are a whipped egg white omelet household, and not just because we’re being healthy — we keep a carton of egg whites in the fridge (even our 25-year-old son likes the way egg whites make a soufflé-like omelet).
Having all ingredients stove-side is strategic in stir frying because the cooking goes by in a wink. Once you’ve started your stir fry, there’s no time for answering texts or grabbing a forgotten ingredient.
One other thing: don’t overcrowd the pan. If you do, the food steams. That is why featuring a single vegetable, like the asparagus in this recipe, with a bit of protein is best. If you are cooking for a crowd, it’s better to do multiple batches than to double what you’re putting in the pan.
Asparagus and Chicken Stir Fry
Serves 2 to 3
1 Tbsp. egg white
2 Tbsp. corn starch
2 Tbsp. Shao Xing rice wine or dry sherry
10 oz. skinless, boneless chicken thighs or breast
¾ cup chicken broth
½ tsp. soy sauce
½ tsp. toasted sesame oil
½ tsp. hoisin sauce
A pinch of sugar
Salt to taste
1 lb. medium asparagus
Neutral-flavored oil, preferably peanut
1 Tbsp. finely minced fresh ginger
2 scallions, white and green parts minced separately
1 to 3 tsp. sliced red chili, optional
2 Tbsp. chopped cilantro, torn pea shoots, or mint
Cooked rice for serving
Lightly whisk the egg white in a bowl with one tablespoon each of the corn starch and Shao Xing or sherry. Dice the chicken into ¾-inch pieces and toss in the mixture. Cover and set aside for 30 minutes. If you find dicing the meat tricky, freeze it until firm.
Meanwhile, whisk the sauce ingredients — broth, soy sauce, sesame oil, hoisin, sugar, and salt — with the remaining wine and corn starch in another bowl and set by the stove.
Peel and trim the asparagus, then cut on the bias into 2-inch-long pieces. Set by the stove as well.
Preheat a flat-bottomed wok or 12- to 14-inch heavy-bottomed skillet over medium-high heat. Drain any excess marinade off the meat. Add about a quarter inch of oil to the pan. Add the meat to the pan, ideally in an even layer. Pause for a moment and then stir slowly until the meat turns opaque on all sides, about a minute. Scoop the meat from the pan with a slotted spoon and transfer to a platter. Discard the oil and wipe out the pan.
Return the pan to high heat for about a minute. When it’s good and hot, add about a tablespoon of oil, swirl to coat the pan, add the ginger, whites of the scallion, and chili if using. Stir fry for about 30 seconds, seasoning with salt. Add the asparagus and stir fry until crisp tender and its green color pops. Slip the meat back in the pan. Whisk the sauce ingredients together and pour into the pan. Bring to a boil, stirring, and cook until the sauce thickens and the meat is cooked through, about a minute. Scatter green scallions and cilantro on top.
Serve immediately with rice.
