Bring me my spears: Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's asparagus recipes

Asparagus pizza with ham and shaved goat's cheese: Use only the thinnest stems, as they're not pre-cooked and get a 10-minute blast of heat in the oven. Photograph: Colin Campbell for the Guardian

Asparagus is – or can be – one of the great culinary joys of early summer. But we have a bit of a two-tier spear system. First, there's the real deal: fresh-cut, grown locally (maybe even in your own garden) in April and May, transported posthaste to the kitchen and cooked without further ado. This is the asparagus that will make you go weak at the knees: earthy, sweet and ever-so-slightly farmyardy (in a good way). Then there is the supermarket deal: year-round asparagus, mainly imported and, frankly, a bit of a travesty. Sometimes, when in season and UK-grown, it's worthwhile, but the rest of the year it's a shocking disappointment: woody, a bit mealy and missing that essential sweetness. As soon as it's cut, asparagus begins to toughen up and the sugar reverts to starch, so if it has been sitting on a shelf for several days, it can't fail to be anything but a shadow of its former self. If it has been air-freighted from the other side of the world first, too, well, you can see how it can seem a different vegetable.
I don't really want anyone to eat that kind of second-rate asparagus ever, so what follows is my guide to making the most of the wonderful British spears you can buy right now.
First, there's a question of attitude. Asparagus is a delicacy, a treat. It may be a vegetable, but it's on a whole different level from carrots or spuds (no offence intended to these sterling performers). View it more as you would oysters or steak – a proper indulgence. It's often pretty pricey, but that's unsurprising: this is a plant that takes three years of nurturing before it produces its first crop. And that crop is just a handful of slender spears – maybe a dozen per plant. The season spans barely 70 days and the stuff has to be cut by hand to boot: it's incredibly labour-intensive.
Once you've got your head around the fact that this is something of a prince (or prima donna) among veg, you'll see why it's worth tracking down the freshest crop you can. If you can buy asparagus from the person who's actually grown it, you are on to a winner. There are lots of growers who sell at the roadside, at farmers' markets or directly into farm shops; some even offer a pick-your-own option (find growers and PYOs near you at british-asparagus.co.uk). Whether you buy locally or in a big retailer, look for asparagus with a bright green colour and very firm, undamaged stems. Old asparagus is bendy and even wrinkly at the base of the stems, with a dull brownness overtaking its vibrant green.
And when you have that first bunch of perfect, super-fresh, still dewy asparagus in your hands, I'd like you not even to look at today's recipes. Don't get me wrong, they're delicious – but save them for the next bunch, or the one after, or for one that's a day or two old. That initial, exquisite bundle should be enjoyed as simply as possible, its devouring a reverential ritual. Bring a large pan of lightly salted water to a boil. Snap off the woody ends (they break naturally at the point where the stem becomes tender) and give the spears a thorough rinse (asparagus is grown in sandy soil and its feathery tips can often harbour grains of grit). Drop the spears into the boiling water and cook for the least time possible, just until the tip of a knife pierces a stem without effort – with really fresh stuff, you're looking at about three minutes. (One- or two-day old spears need more like six.) Drain and transfer to a warmed dish. Trickle over a little melted butter, season and you're away.
My second favourite way to eat the finest asparagus is with what I call soft-boiled egg hollandaise: boil two eggs for four and a half minutes, slice off the tops, then into the hot, yellow yolks go a nut of butter, a few drops of good cider vinegar and a pinch of salt and pepper. Dip just-cooked spears into this instant hollandaise, give it a cheeky stir and consume with gusto.
After a week or two of such purist asparagus-eating, though, I diversify: roasting, griddling and barbecuing are all fantastic ways to cook it, too (blanch the spears very briefly first for the best results), as are today's recipes. Each calls for just one bunch of tender spears, so each is a great way to spread the joy, colour and flavour of this top-drawer vegetable.

Asparagus pizza with ham and shaved goat's cheese

The asparagus is not pre-cooked here, it just gets a blast on top of the pizza. For this reason, choose slender stems that will cook through quickly. If you can find only thick spears, halve them down the middle. You can put the ham on after the pizza is cooked, but I like it crisped in the oven, which intensifies its flavour. Makes three pizzas, each serving two to three.
For the dough
250g plain white flour
250g strong white flour
1½ level tsp fine sea salt
1 tsp easy-blend (instant) yeast
1 tbsp rapeseed or olive oil, plus a little extra
For the topping
4 tbsp olive oil, plus a little extra for trickling
2 large onions, peeled and finely sliced
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 bunch slender asparagus spears (about 400g)
150g air-dried ham such as parma or serrano
Hard, matured goat's cheese or parmesan
To make the dough, put the flours in a large bowl with the salt and yeast. Mix well. Add the oil and 325ml warm water, and mix to a rough dough. Flour your hands a little, then tip out the dough on to a work surface and knead rhythmically for five to 10 minutes, until smooth. Put the dough into a lightly oiled bowl, cover with a tea towel and leave in a warm place to rise until doubled in size – at least one hour.
Heat the oven to 240C/465F/gas mark 9, if it goes that high, or at least 220C/425F/gas mark 7, and put in a baking sheet to warm up.
Meanwhile, prepare the topping. Heat the oil in a frying pan over medium heat. Add the onions and a pinch of salt. Once sizzling, turn the heat to low and cook gently, stirring from time to time, until the onions are very soft and golden – at least 15 minutes, up to 30.
Tip the dough on to a lightly floured surface and deflate with your fingers. Leave to rest for a few minutes, then cut into three. Roll out one piece as thinly as you can. Take the hot baking sheet from the oven, scatter over a little flour (or fine polenta/cornmeal) and lay the dough base on it. Spread a third of the onions over the dough and arrange a third of the asparagus on top. Tear the ham into shreds and lay a third of it over the asparagus. Season and finish with a generous trickle of oil. Bake for 10-12 minutes, until the base is crisp, the edges browned and the asparagus tender. Repeat with the remaining dough and topping. Serve hot in slices or wedges, scattered with fine shavings of goat's cheese or parmesan and a splash more oil.

Risotto with roasted asparagus and mozzarella

I love asparagus roasted and it works a treat in very simple "white" risotto. Serves two.
500ml vegetable or chicken stock
Knob of butter
1 small onion, peeled and finely chopped
1 clove garlic, peeled and finely chopped
125g risotto rice
1 bunch asparagus (about 400g)
1 tbsp olive oil
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 ball buffalo mozzarella, torn into small pieces
1 lemon
Extra-virgin olive oil, to serve
Heat the oven to 190C/375F/gas mark 5. Bring the stock to a low simmer in a small pan, and keep over a very low heat.
Heat the butter in a large saucepan over medium-low heat. Add the onion and sweat it for around eight minutes, until soft; stir in the garlic for the last minute or so. Add the rice and cook, stirring, for a minute.
Now start adding the hot stock about a quarter at a time. Let the rice cook, stirring often, adding more hot stock as it is absorbed. After 20-25 minutes, the rice should be cooked, with just a hint of chalkiness in the middle, and you should have used up the stock.
Meanwhile, roast the asparagus. Snap off the woody ends, cut the spears into 3-4cm lengths and lay in a roasting dish with the oil. Season, toss well and roast for about 15 minutes, until tender and starting to caramelise. Remove from the oven but keep warm.
Season the rice to taste and add the asparagus, mozzarella and a grating of lemon zest – about a quarter of the lemon. Leave, covered, for a minute, then stir. Add more salt, pepper or lemon zest to taste, and serve topped with a generous trickle of extra-virgin olive oil.

Gratinated asparagus

This simple treatment is just a step on from the straightforward cook-it-and-dip-it-in-butter approach. The breadcrumbs and almonds provide a lovely contrasting texture. Serves four as a starter or side dish.
1 bunch asparagus (about 400g), woody ends snapped off
15g butter
25g slivered almonds
25g coarse white breadcrumbs
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
3-4 tbsp double cream
Bring a pan of lightly salted water to a boil, drop in the asparagus and cook for four to six minutes, until barely tender – you want it fractionally undercooked because it will cook further under the grill. Meanwhile, heat the grill to medium.
Drain the asparagus and lay in a shallow oven dish. Melt the butter in the still-hot pan in which you cooked the asparagus, stir in the almonds and breadcrumbs, and season. Trickle cream over the asparagus, season and scatter over the buttery breadcrumb mix. Grill for a couple of minutes, till the topping is toasted to a lovely golden brown. Serve at once.