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Spring faked us out a few weeks ago, sunshine bursting through the clouds. I hope none of you fell for that. I did--sent my winter coat to the dry cleaners and everything.
Real spring was this weekend and I headed out to the farmers market hopeful, heady with excitement about ramps. I saw no ramp
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s. But I did buy tulips and daffodils, knowing full well my cats will eat the leaves and make themselves sick. Also
Flying Pigs eggs, with two pale green ones that I scrambled up for lunch.
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For dinner, a giant
Quattro's spring chicken, roasted with 2 different varieties of heirloom potatoes, including the Makah Ozette (a
Slow Food Ark of Taste variety) which is delicious but hard to clean. I had to get inside all the nooks and crannies with the tip of a very sharp knife in order to pick out the dirt. Tried to rationalize the bits left behind by thinking about the article I read in the
recent food issue of the Oxford American, all about the Southern tradition of eating soil.
Next week, the hunt for ramps continues.
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