You win this round, artichoke.

So I bought this artichoke the other day. Not this one, exactly, but it is just as scary. So this artichoke-- it has been sitting on my counter, watching me with those beady eyes, daring me to touch its spikes. Artichokes, I realize, are not the friendliest vegetables. Perhaps this one went through some childhood trauma, and now he won't let anyone get too close. Let your spikes down, artichoke, I want to be your homie.

But seriously, I have no idea what to do with this artichoke. I'm really not sure why I bought it. I have a vague memory of working with artichokes in a cooking class, but I'm pretty sure I tried to peel it like a banana, and then tried to hide the evidence under my shirt.

But as you know, I am fearless, unstoppable even. I will conquer this artichoke, or at least woo it with my best one-liners until it gives in out of pity. How bad can it be? I've found plenty of artichoke recipes and gorgeous photos in my cookbooks, but for my first effort I think I will stick with Julia Child. I trust her, and even more so, I trust butter.

"Lemon Butter Artichokes" sounds relatively doable, and even if it is not, knowing Julia, you can fix most problems by just adding butter. Sometimes I ask Julia questions in my head, and the answer is always the same:
Me: "Julia, what should I make for dinner tonight?"
J:  "Just drizzle some butter on it!"
Me:  "Julia, I have no direction in life. what should I be doing?"
J:  "with enough butter, anything is good!"
Me: "How do you feel about health care reform?"
J:  "More butter!"


Plus, this recipe is full of classic Julia zingers, like "Bottom teeth are especially good for scraping off the flesh." What a saucy old bird she is!