You Shouldn't Eat The Hairy Part Of An Artichoke. Here's Why

Artichokes have always required a little extra work: You have to snip the thorny tips, peel each leaf, and scrape the meat with your teeth, and then, finally, excavate the heart by removing that tedious fuzz. For artichoke heads, the labor might be part of the pleasure; you have to work to get to the good part. You can't skip it, and it is worth it.

Tucked between the soft heart and the translucent inner leaves is that dense thicket of pale fibers, dry, clingy, and sharp. But what is that scratchy fur guarding the tender center? It's actually called the "choke," and if you've ever gotten any stuck in your throat, you know why. It's not meant to be eaten, so don't even try. 

Cooked whole, the choke might look friendly, softened, and even edible, but it definitely isn't. The rough fibers don't break down with heat or in your digestive system, causing bloating, discomfort, and a lingering ... fullness. It's all fiber and no flavor. It has no nutritional value and no ingenious culinary tradition that somehow makes use of it. 

Unlike vegetables bred for ease, like the docile tomato, many generations selectively removed from its once-wild roots, the artichoke has maintained its defenses from its days as a wild plant. It's spiny and armored, slow to yield, because the artichoke is a thistle, which explains a lot. 

The artichoke leaves, called "bracts," are actually more like tough scales protecting a delicate flower, which is the fuzzy center. If you look closely, it's a cluster of immature florets, the same botanical composition as the yellow-centered daisy. If left to mature on the stem, the artichoke head would open into a vivid purple bloom. The fibrous hairs, called "pappus" are the beginnings of what would become a seed dispersal system. From a botanical perspective, it's just the plant doing what it's meant to do: The pokey spines protect the reproductive core until it's ready to burst open and distribute its genetic material into the wind. But we harvest the immature plant, young and closed, before the flower has time to develop.

Humans have been eating artichokes since at least the time of the ancient Greeks, who prized them for their medicinal properties and aphrodisiac reputation. But the parts we enjoy eating, the heart and the fleshy base of each leaf, are incidental to the plant's true goal: survival and propagation. 

If you're cooking baby artichokes, you're in luck, because the choke hasn't formed yet. The whole thing is edible after a quick trim. But for larger, mature artichokes, the choke is unavoidable and needs to go.

The easiest time to remove it is after cooking. Once the artichoke is steamed or braised and the leaves pull away easily, and you get down to the center, use a spoon to scrape out the fibers. They should lift cleanly from the heart in one or two clumps. Be gentle but thorough, because (cough, cough) even a few errant hairs can be irritating.

If you're working with raw artichokes (for grilling, stuffing, or preserving), the removal takes more finesse. Cut the top third of the artichoke off to expose the interior, then use a spoon, grapefruit knife, or your fingers to pull out the fuzz. It's easiest if you trim the tough outer leaves first and slice the artichoke in half lengthwise, which will expose the heart and make the fuzz easier to see and remove. A quick rub with lemon will keep the cut flesh from browning.

Don't let the tricky choke intimidate you. Artichokes reward attention, and their texture, somewhere between buttered almond and steamed potato, with an slight licorice note is hard to replicate. Get past the fluff, and you unlock the wild heart of a singular vegetable.