In a flash, mud-rich early spring has become blooming late spring, and young men’s fancy has turned to shooting up the ferry shelter down at the Newburgh waterfront, where not even the shattered glass can temper the nice weather. The daffodils are shouting out their yellow hellos, the grass looks like astroturf, and the hothouse greens from the organic farm seem a little more robust than last week.
It’s ramp season, too. Go get some responsibly & grill 'em with a little olive oil and sea salt, then put them on every sandwich you can make. Serve them alongside your shad before it’s gone (I haven’t managed to score any yet).
When all nature’s putting out shoots and the glittering crystalline ice of winter becomes a memory, you can almost understand why some gangbanger might feel the urge to fire off his own version of a barbaric yawp through a sheet of glass. But please, people (and I'm sure that the local BBK chapter boasts several regular readers), go easy.
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4 comments:
Mmm - ramps. Last week I got ramps and asparagus at the green market, and my husband made a splendid pasta dish with the vegetables sauteed, and a splash of beef stock because we had no morels. Yum.
You were morel-ly bankrupt.
Um, is that on-ramps or off-ramps ?
Ok, that was too easy, but I couldn't resist.
Eating seasonally and locally. You're a fine example Mr. Braine.
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