'Tis the season.

This summer (well, late spring), I've been making an effort to spend more time in Central Park. It's a fifteen minute walk from my house, and yet I'm rarely there. I'd bet that in the ten summers I've spent in Manhattan, I've spent more time crossing the park than sitting in it.

And so last Sunday, I packed up my new park-sitting blanket and headed for a quiet spot of green not far from the Delacorte. After spending a couple of hours reading and napping, I gathered my things and set off on a little walk. My plan was to meander back east, then hop over to Lexington in the East 70s to run some errands.

That, friends, is how I found myself in the Ramble, a tangle of paths in a densely wooded bit of the park, along the edges of the lake.

Next time, I'll have to bring a friend and rent a boat, something I've never done. Ten years is too long to go without that experience, right? Right.

Lush.

 I didn't make it to the Greenmarket this weekend, busy as I was gallivanting around New England with my fellow members of the class of 1997 - but I spent the week before that with an apartment full of peonies.

Bright pink with bright yellow stamens, and blush pink with hints of burgundy - nothing could be better than a vase of these on every surface.

Greenery.

It's that wonderful time of year, when asparagus season overlaps with ramp season, and all is right with the world.

This weekend, I made a variation on this sauteed asparagus dish - I subbed in ramps for the shallots (added the sliced bulbs at the beginning, and the sliced tops along with the chives at the end). I also happened to have some pea shoots, so I spooned the whole lot down on a bed of those. Extra grassy green flavor, FTW!

Hello, gorgeous!

It's lilac season! In related news, my apartment smells heavenly.

Recently.

I've been gravitating toward simple, delicious food recently. I think it's in anticipation of summer's bounty, which barely needs any help to be amazing. Among the things I've been eating are the granola from Peels, which is unbelievably delicious, and...

...a couple of loin lamb chops, which I trimmed a bit, rubbed with garlic, sprinkled with salt and pepper, and cooked on the stovetop. I whipped up a little cucumber-yogurt sauce to go alongside, and the whole thing took about 15 minutes, start to finish.

There's nothing wrong with simple.

Ramps: a debrief.

Well, folks, I'm pleased to say that the ramp-alicious dinner party went off without a hitch! We sipped our Gibsons, nibbled our toasts, slurped up our pasta and devoured our lamb. (And the strawberry-rhubarb crostata wasn't half-bad, either.)

Most of what I made last night were tried and true favorites, starting with the Gibsons, which I garnished with pickled ramps in lieu of cocktail onions (click here for the recipe) . (Gibsons are just Martinis with onions instead of olives.) I enjoy a wet Gibson, with four parts gin to one part dry vermouth. A couple dashes of bitters don't hurt, either. The slightly sweet, sour ramp pickles go gorgeously with the spicy gin and herbal vermouth - altogether a truly elegant cocktail.

The Gibsons worked very nicely with the only new recipe I cooked up for this dinner: ramp toasts with Parmesan. The toasts are based on a favorite recipe of mine from the Gourmet cookbook, which is one of the easiest, most basic, most delicious concoctions known to man: finely chopped sweet onion mixed with mayonnaise, spooned onto cocktail bread, topped with cheese and black pepper and toasted in the oven for a few minutes.

I subbed in ramps for the sweet onion and decided to go all out and leave the ramps raw rather than blanch them. The result? A spicy, pure-ramp flavor and general awesomeness. One of these goes a long way, which is really what you want from a cocktail nibble, right? (The new recipe is all yours at the bottom of this post!)

Next up came my personal favorite, fresh fettuccine with ramps and bacon (I left the egg off of this version, since we had small, appetizer-sized helpings.). I made the sauce ahead of time and just warmed it up and tossed it with the freshly cooked pasta when the time came. Super easy, and a huge crowd pleaser, especially when topped with dangerous amounts of Parmesan cheese.

Earlier in the day, I marinated a boneless leg of lamb in olive oil, salt, pepper, smashed garlic and a splash or two of vermouth. I roasted it while we drank our cocktails and ate our pasta, then served it topped with some ramp compound butter and alongside some sugar snaps. (I blanched the sugar snap peas in salted water in the afternoon, then warmed them up in some of the ramp compound butter and a handful of minced chives before sliding them onto the plate next to the lamb.)

After a simple green salad, we moved onto dessert: strawberry-rhubarb crostata with some softly whipped cream. (I threw some dark brown sugar into the cream before whipping it, the better to complement the rhubarb's tang.) This crostata is one of my favorite desserts of all time. It's insanely easy to make, presents beautifully, and is really, truly satisfying to eat. The only change from my original recipe? I subbed in vodka for half the water in the crust recipe, which definitely helped keep things tender and flaky instead of tough and chewy. I'm a convert.

I sent everyone home with a little container of ramp compound butter for their own personal, private consumption, though what we really needed were entire rolls of Certs. Ramps: delicious and delightful, though possibly not for the person sitting next to you on the subway on the way home.

Ramp Toasts
Adapted from The Gourmet Cookbook

2 bunches ramps, well washed and the root ends trimmed
1 cup mayonnaise (Hellman's is my favorite for this; homemade is too thin)
1/4 tsp salt
25 slices cocktail bread
1/2 cup grated Parmesan
Freshly ground black pepper

Pre-heat the oven to 450 degrees Fahrenheit. Slice the ramps crosswise, as thinly as possible. Place in a medium mixing bowl along with the mayonnaise. Stir to combine until the ramps and mayonnaise are evenly mixed. Mix in the salt.

Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper, then fill with as many slices as cocktail bread as possible. Top each slice with a tablespoon or so of the ramp-mayonnaise mixture, then top that with a generous pinch of the cheese. Finish each toast off with a few grinds of pepper.

Toast for 5-7 minutes, checking occasionally, until the bread begins to darken and the cheese is melted and golden-brown. Serve immediately.

Makes 25 toasts.

Queenie's Treasury

Happy weekend, my darlings! It's a chilly, rainy Saturday here in New York - which, though a little sad, is probably just right for the season. That sunny, 70 degree weather we had last week was clearly just a tease.

In far better seasonal news, ramps are here! I haven't made it to the Greenmarket to collect my first haul quite yet, but I already have a ramp-themed dinner party planned for next weekend. I'm thinking Gibsons with quick-pickled ramps, some fresh fettuccine with ramps and bacon, lamb chops and asparagus with ramp butter, and maybe a rhubarb galette for dessert. I'm hoping it'll be epic.

Easter is coming up, and if I decorated Easter eggs, I'd be all over these glitter ones from Martha Stewart. They are as of-the-moment as Easter eggs can hope to be, what with their bright neon sparkle. That might make them a squidge harder to hide for the kiddies, though...

Springtime in a vase.

Peonies are my favorite spring flower. So lush, so remarkably happy-making. What's your favorite flower?

PSA: Strawberries are here!

Strawberries made their first appearance at the Greenmarket this morning, kids! Time to start planning your pies, crostatas, shortcakes and compotes.

Here we go, a-marketing.

The greenmarket is approaching full bloom, folks! This weekend I snagged French breakfast radishes, ramps, eggs, peonies, lilies of the valley, asparagus, spinach, cucumbers, red bell peppers and tomatoes. (Those last three are greenhouse-grown, but still local. What can I say? I'm desperate for a preview of summer.)

Fiddleheads were on offer, too. Gorgeous, no?

And lilacs. So many lilacs. The market was fairly carpeted with lilacs. I resisted in favor of my always-and-forever peonies, but I couldn't help pausing to take in a long, deep sniff. (My market shopping bags are courtesy of Baggu, and I love them beyond measure.)

Honestly.

Hard as it may be to believe (snort), even I have kitchen mishaps. Sometimes they're disastrous, and sometimes they're minor. The one I had on the Saturday before Easter could be classified as the former. I actually found myself standing in my kitchen, throat on fire from a cold, cursing the author of a recipe. Loudly, colorfully and at great length.

What happened, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. I was making a ramp tart to go alongside my brother's Easter leg of lamb, and the crust betrayed me. I made it, let it rest for a full two hours, rolled it out between two pieces of plastic wrap, and placed it gently in the tart pan. And then, when it came out of the oven, it was cracked all along the bottom.

Idiot that I occasionally am, I figured this was all par for the course, and went ahead and poured in the custardy filling. Of course, this was a tart pan with a removable bottom, so the filling proceeded to spill all over the stove and counter as it leaked through those little cracks and out of the pan. OF COURSE.

After screaming, stomping and generally muttering as I cleaned up the mess, I decided to make a second crust. I couldn't face rolling the dough out again, so I decided my guests would have to deal with a pressed-in tart crust (and to use a pie plate for extra safety), something I've done before and plan to do again. It is so. Much. Easier.

And, frankly, the tart was still flaky and delicious, so I feel no guilt about it and have no qualms encouraging you all to do the same, lest you end up as I did, shaking your fist at the kitchen gods.

Oh, and, the tart? It's marvelous. Creamy and decadent, but small enough in stature to go down nice and easy. The stinky ramps call for a mild goat cheese, but if you don't have ramps where you are, sub in some chopped leeks and an aged cheese - that'll be pretty dang good, too.

Ramp Tart with Goat Cheese
Adapted from Bon Appétit

For the ramp filling:
1/4 cup unsalted butter
2 bunches ramps (about 1/2 pound), cleaned, trimmed and cut in half lengthwise
2 tbs. water
1/2 tsp. kosher salt

For the crust:
4 tbs. ice water
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 tsp. kosher salt
1/2 cup plus 1 tbs. chilled butter, cut into 1/2 inch pieces

For the custard:
1/2 cup whole milk
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 large egg and 1 large egg yolk
1/4 tsp. salt
4 oz. mild goat cheese

Make the ramp filling:
In a small saucepan set over medium-low heat, melt the butter. Add the ramps and stir to coat in the butter. Stir in the water and salt, then cover the pot and reduce the heat to low. Cook until the ramps are very tender, about 25 minutes, stirring frequently. Set aside. (If you're doing this the day before, allow to cool, cover tightly, and refrigerate. Bring to room temperature before adding to the tart.)

Make the crust:
Place the flour and salt in the bowl of a food processor fitted with the blade attachment. Pulse a few times to combine, then add the butter. Pulse a few times until a coarse meal develops. With the motor running, add two tablespoons of the ice water. Check to see how the dough is doing; if it's still a bit dry and not coming together, add the rest of the water.

Take the dough out and place it in a 9-inch glass or metal pie plate. Gently press the dough out and down with your hands or a flat-bottomed measuring cup, until it is evenly distributed and goes up (but not over) the edges of the pan. Place in the fridge for at least an hour. If you plan to leave the crust in overnight, cover tightly with plastic wrap first.

Pre-heat the oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Remove the crust from the fridge and line with tinfoil, covering the entire crust (including up the edges). Fill with pie weights or dry, uncooked beans and bake until set and dry, about 30 minutes. Remove the pie weights and tinfoil and bake until golden, about 10 more minutes, depending on your oven's personality.

Make the custard and finish the tart:
In a medium bowl, combine the milk, cream, eggs and salt. Beat until light and well-combined. Dot half the cheese around the bottom of the warm tart shell. Arrange the ramp filling on top, then place the rest of the cheese on top of the ramps. Gently pour in the egg mixture.

Return the tart to the oven and bake until the center is set and puffy and the tart is golden in spots. You may need to cover the edges of the crust - one of these is super-handy, or you can make a make-shift one from tinfoil.

Serves 8 as a side, or 4 as a main course.

Asparagus: check!

The rhythm of spring is, for me, measured by the gradual arrival of my old friends. First come the tulips and daffodils, then the ramps, and then the asparagus. Asparagus, in all its grassy glory, is the first substantive vegetable to make its appearance in the Northeast. The early harvest is typically the best - both boldly flavored and delicately textured.

I got my hands on my first pound of asparagus on Saturday morning and promptly returned home to make myself an asparagus-centric lunch to remember. Eggs and pork are classic partners for asparagus, and so I decided to saute my spears in bacon fat and top the lot with a fried egg. Chives are delightfully peppery and are simply everywhere right now, so I added a healthy handful of those for good measure. (I love pork and pepper - love!)

Now, if you're veggie, I'd skip the bacon and go for butter here - a little animal fat goes a long way, even if it's just dairy. (I say "just," but let's face it: butter is amazing.) And if you want to use this as a side, skip the egg. Or not. Your call.

Asparagus with Bacon and Shallots

2 slices bacon, cut crosswise into 1/4 inch batons
1 large shallot, peeled and thinly sliced
1/2 pound asparagus, trimmed and cut crosswise on the bias into two-inch pieces
2 tbs. chicken or vegetable stock
2 tbs. chives, finely chopped
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Heat a large skillet over high heat. Add the bacon and reduce the heat to medium-high. Saute until most of the fat is rendered, but the bacon is still a little chewy. Using a slotted spoon, set aside the bacon.

Add the shallot and saute for a few minutes until a little soft. Add the asparagus, season with salt and pepper, and continue to saute, until the asparagus turns bright green. Add the stock to deglaze the pan stir until it is mostly evaporated. Add one tablespoon of the chives and cook for a minute more.

Transfer to a bowl, top with the rest of the chives (and a fried egg, if that's how you roll), season to taste, and chow down.

Serves one as a main course, two as a side.

Seasonal goodness.

Last weekend, I paid a late night visit to Momofuku Noodle Bar with my friends Nick and Louisa. We enjoyed our bowls of ramen to the utmost, but it was the first and last courses that caught my fancy.

Momofuku's potato and ramp dish is worth a special trip. The creamy potatoes play beautifully off of the funky wild leeks, and the whole thing is a plateful of spring. You can't have this dish three weeks from now, you know? So get your butts over there.

And dessert? A cup of salted chocolate ice cream. Marvelous, icy, exciting. I don't always love saltier ice creams in the way I love salty desserts in general, but this one worked like a charm. I must have it again soon, as should you.

They're heee-eeere!

What? Ramps!

That said, I'm feeling a bit guilty about indulging this season. Apparently the ramp-rich lands upstate and in New Jersey are being positively denuded of their crop, which of course threatens our long-term enjoyment of the delectable wild leeks. And, let's face it, it can't be good ecologically.

Are you planning to eat a lot of ramps this season? Why or why not?

Winter's on the wing.

I went to the Union Square Greenmarket inhumanly early this Saturday in the hopes that I'd snag a healthy portion of the season's first ramp haul. Sadly, it was not to be.

No ramps appeared, but I did see some gorgeous flowers (tulips, hyacinths and potted ranunculus), lovely lettuces and adorable, teeny little onions.

I skipped home with dug legs, pea shoots, farm eggs and a few handfuls of the tiniest, sweetest cipollini onions I could find.

Consolation prizes these are not.

Oh, and, yes: that title is something of a wink to my fellow musical theater nerds. Hi there!

A stopped clock.

It's that odd in-between time here in New York, when the seasons are paused mid-shift. Balmy spring dominates after noon, but in the mornings, the air still nips at you like it's winter. This past Saturday, I arrived at the Union Square Greenmarket under cool, gray skies. One of the first sights to greet me was a clear indicator of the chilly weather: hot apple cider!

Spring was on display, too, though, in the form of azaleas...

...and just-beginning-to-bloom lilacs...

...and edible flowers.

The perfect breakfast, no matter what the season? Ronnybrook's coffee-flavored milk. Remember when your parents would put just a smidge of their coffee in your milk to make you feel all grown-up? This is like that, but creamier. It's decadent, it's naughty, and I love it.