Springing Forward

As soon as I started reading Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle I completely fell in love with the book and the seasonal way of life Kingsolver adopted. Eating food at the time of year that nature intended and at it's sweetest and tastiest - is there a better way? While reading the book, all I wanted to do was browse the farmers market for fresh, colorful produce to dictate my meals. There was only one problem; it was the dead of winter. Drats! No lovely asparagus, or juicy red tomatoes, or bright zucchini. No bursts of berry flavor, or melons, or cheery cherries. It looked bleak. There were only root vegetables and squash to hold me over until springtime.

So I waited... through the blizzards... and the bone chilling winds... and the disappointing trips to the grocery store where the produce was edible, but not exactly sparkling or bursting with flavor. Is there anything more sad than seeing a partially ripe, mealy tomato? In the meantime, I avoided the farmers market. I was tired of the same old thing and I hadn't prepared for the winter during summer's bounty.

The weather has started to get a bit better in New York so this past weekend I decided to try my luck. It was a gray, dreary day. The clouds hung overhead. The air was moist with humidity as if the skies were just waiting for the right moment to dump all of the rain on us. There were signs of hope though. Against this depressing backdrop, the trees shone bright green. It was, I imagined, what Ireland would look like. As I walked towards the farmers market I tempered my anticipation. I expected to see the same stuff I'd been seeing throughout the winter.

As I got closer I realized that IT'S SPRING!! There were hundreds of potted plants in bloom. Green was everywhere. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted tall stalks of asparagus standing regally in a tub of water. I greedily grabbed a bunch. While paying for some eggs I noticed a plant I had never seen before. There were a bunch of green leaves with white bulbs and a hint of red in between. Curious about what they were, I asked the farmer. They're ramps?! Really?! I had read about them a million times over the past few years. I saw them pop up on restaurant menus only to disappear before I got a chance to try them. Now, here they were, staring me in the face, begging me to take them home with me. So I did.