Ramps!

'Tis the season, my friends: the season for ramps. If you live on the eastern seaboard of the United States, chances are you've encountered ramps at least once. They're a wild onion prized for their unique stank and delectable, meaty flavor. They look a bit like a scallion, but with a purple tinge, slightly more bulbous, um, bulb and flat, dark green leaves. They pair gorgeously with anything smoked (like bacon), sweet (like corn or stone fruits) or tangy (like vinegar). And I can't get enough.

Last Saturday, after hearing that ramps had made their first Greenmarket appearance on Wednesday, I made sure to be up good and early for a trip down to Union Square. Turns out the slightly schizophrenic weather we've been having this year (freezing cold, then hot, then rainy and cool, then warm) is perfect weather for growing ramps, and that's why they're available a couple weeks earlier than normal.

I arrived just as the clock struck eight AM and hoofed it over to the Mountain Sweet Berry Farm Stand at 16th and Broadway. Sure enough, two crates full of ramps stood at attention, just waiting to be swarmed by food-obsessed New Yorkers like me (and you!). I was early enough to avoid any kind of line, and was even able to snap a few photos without being shoved from behind by ramp-mad hordes. And look what I spotted! (Pun not intended, but not edited out, either.)

Apparently, I was in good company. The Spotted Pig's bike, complete with cooler, was sitting right there, clearly awaiting a pre-ordered take of the morning's ramp harvest. After a swing through the market (and a stop in Whole Foods for some bacon, since Flying Pigs Farm was out), I jumped back on the 4 train to head uptown for a breakfast of champions.

Fresh fettucine with ramps, bacon and an egg is my traditional dish of celebration. I welcome ramps with open arms, pasta and pork. It's just my way. (Using fettucine and eggs from the Greenmarket helps keep things local, fresh and delicious.)

Trust me: you should run out right now to make this. (Vegetarian folk, just sub in a tablespoon or so of olive oil for the bacon fat, and don't skimp on the cheese. It's almost as good as the bacony version. A hit of cream or half and half wouldn't hurt you, either.)

Fresh Fettucine with Ramps, Bacon and an Egg

2 slices thick-cut, maple-cured bacon cut crosswise into 3/4 inch pieces
1/2 bunch of ramps, cleaned and chopped into one-inch lengths (about 1 cup)
1/4 pound fresh fettucine, cooked to al dente and drained (save 1/4 cup of the cooking water)
1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese
1 tbs. olive oil
1 egg
Salt and pepper

Set a medium skillet over high heat; heat until hot. Turn heat down to medium high and add the bacon to the pan. Cook slowly, rendering the fat until the bacon is just crispy. Remove the bacon pieces with a slotted spoon.

Add the ramps to the pain and saute them in the bacon fat, cooking until the white parts begin to brown. Season (lightly) with salt and pepper, and return the bacon to the pan. Add the fettucine and stir with tongs to combine the sauce with the pasta, adding a little pasta water if things need moisture. Turn off the heat.

In a small skillet, heat the olive oil over meidum heat. Once it's hot, crack the egg into the pan and fry until the edges just begin to turn crispy. Mound the pasta on a plate or in a bowl, top with the fried egg and parmesan cheese, and eat!

Serves one.

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.

Finally!

Saturday was the first day of my staycation, and I decided to get things off to a fitting and proper start with a trip to the Union Square Greenmarket. It was absolutely pouring - and before 9 AM - so the market was fairly empty.

This is a good thing for two reasons: first, for someone who absolutely loves living in Manhattan, I get a little ticked off in large crowds (particularly when I'm trying to get my grocery shopping done and the other people are just oohing and aahing at the wares). Second, it boded well for me getting my paws on some ramps.

Sure enough, I succeeded! I heard whispers running through the crowd from the second I crossed 14th Street - people asking the various vendors if they had any ramps, and the farmers shaking their heads and pointing toward the west side of the park.

And there, just north of the subway entrance on Union Square West, were ramps. Piles and piles of them. A bit small and short, but ramps nonetheless. I reached in, grabbed five bunches, forked over $12.50, and sped off to get some fresh Knoll Crest pasta.

When I got home, I put away the day's purchases (spring onions, chives, the ramps, duck legs, tulips) and sped off to do the rest of my errands. When my friend Ellie called to let me know she wouldn't be coming into the city to meet up, I knew what I had to do.

I cleaned a few of the ramps, in all their stinky goodness, and made my favorite (well, one of the top two) "welcome, spring!" recipes - ramps with bacon, fettucine, and an egg.

And even though it was a rainy, cold day, I knew spring was on its way. Proof? It's supposed to be 65 and sunny tomorrow. Finally!

The incredible, edible egg, part three: fettucine with bacon and ramps.

Ramps have long been a harbinger of spring for rural communities up and down the East Coast, their annual harvest inspiring feasts, festivals, and general revelry. Over the last ten years or so, they've taken on the same role for New Yorkers - their appearance at the Greenmarket and on restaurant tables all over the city trumpets the arrival of a new season.

So when my friend Miya called me to tell me that she'd snagged the first ramps of the season, I was not a little bit jealous. Not to be outdone, I headed to the Greenmarket first thing the next Saturday morning and bought a couple of bunches of my own.

Ramps look like a cross between a leek and a scallion - they have small, tight bulbs white bulbs, slightly reddish or purplish stems, and broad green leaves. Every bit (except for the actual straggly roots) is edible. They taste a bit like an onion crossed with garlic, with a smidgen of mysterious meatiness thrown in for good measure. And they are fantastic with bacon.

As part of my recent Greenmarket-fueled onion and egg orgy, I decided to cook up a plate of pasta with ramps. If you click through to Miya's post, you can find her excellent, carbonara-esque version. I wanted to take another shot at frying up an egg, so I decided to take a slightly different route.

I rendered the fat out of a few lardons, sauteed the ramps, deglazed with chicken stock, and tossed the resulting sauce with some fresh fettuccine, the reserved bacon, and some Parmesan cheese. Topped the whole thing with a fried local egg. Deliciously simple.

There's no official recipe for this - in reality, the sauce isn't all that different from the spring onion cooking method from this post - just use a bit of extra chicken stock, and you're golden!

Good morning, sunshine!

One of the best parts of any staycation is a hot, delicious breakfast. Most mornings, breakfast means some plain yogurt doctored with a dollop of jam or honey, eaten at my desk, typically while answering any emails that came in overnight.

Staycation breakfast, though, means farm eggs scrambled in butter, filled with sauteed ramps. Staycation breakfast, my friends, is awesome.

Scrambled Eggs with Ramps

2 tbs. unsalted butter, divided
5-6 ramps, cleaned, trimmed and chopped into 1-inch pieces
2 eggs, as fresh as can be
2 tbs. milk
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

In a small skillet set over medium heat, melt one tablespoon of the butter until it just begins to foam. Add the ramps and a teeny pinch of salt. Saute for a few minutes, until the ramp leaves are dark green, almost black, and the stalks are tender and beginning to brown. Season with a pinch of pepper.

Remove the ramps from the skillet and wipe out the pan with a paper towel. Return the skillet to medium heat, and melt the second tablespoon of butter, making sure it coats the bottom and sides of the skillet.

Meanwhile, whisk the eggs and milk together in a small bowl, using a fork. Add to the skillet and scramble gently. As the eggs begin to come together, add the ramps back into the pan and stir everything together. Continue to scramble until the eggs are just cooked (or longer, if you prefer drier eggs). Serve immediately.

Serves one.

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.

Ramps today, ramps tomorrow, ramps forever!

Trying to figure out what to do with the last, precious ramps of the season? Check out these fantastic ideas from Serious Eats: ramp compound butter and pickled ramps. What could be better, easier, or smarter? Keep early spring with you all through the year...

Photo courtesy of Serious Eats.

Improvisation is the spice of life.

Last weekend, I went to the market with a craving for pork chops and fresh fruit, and left with a pound of bone-in chops and a bag of nectarines. I didn't foresee eating them together, but sometimes things just work out that way.

Eager to find a use for the ramps I'd pickled a couple of days before, I decided to top the pan-cooked pork chop with a nectarine and ramp relish. The result was delicious - sweet, spicy, soft and crunchy, made fresh with a sprinkling of chopped Greenmarket parsley. One of the easiest dinners I've made in recent weeks, and also one of the tastiest.

This recipe would be equally good (or, really, probably ten times better) with in-season peaches. Something to keep in mind as summer approaches...

Pork Chop with Nectarines and Pickled Ramps

1 bone-in pork chop (about 1/2 pound)
Salt and pepper
1 tbs. neutral oil, such as vegetable or canola
1 small nectarine, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
3-4 pickled ramps, thinly sliced cross-wise
2 tsps. finely-chopped parsley

Pat the pork chop dry and dress with salt and pepper on both sides. Add the oil to a small skillet set over medium-high heat. Once the oil is heated through, add the pork chop and sear for two to three minutes on each side to form a crust. (You'll know the chop is ready to turn when you pull it gently with your tongs and it comes easily away from the skillet.)

Turn the heat down to medium and cook the chop another three to four minutes on both sides, or until it is just cooked through. Remove from the skillet to a plate and tent with aluminum foil while you make the relish.

Turn the heat back up to medium high, and add a bit more oil if the pan is dry. Add the ramps and sautee for a minute or so, then add the nectarine to the pan. Sautee for a minute, or until the nectarine is slightly softened and heated through. Add the parsley to the skillet, toss to combine, and remove from heat.

Top the pork chop with the relish, season with salt and pepper to taste, and serve.

Serves one.

Pasta with greens.

I've been all about the asparagus recently - eating it with eggs, in salads, hot topped with Parmesan and cold alongside leftover chicken - you name it. I've even been mixing it into pasta. I like it most with penne - I can slice the asparagus on the bias, making the pieces roughly the same size and shape of the pasta, which is just a ton of fun.

And, as much as I love asparagus steamed or blanched, I particularly like it when it's been sauteed or grilled. Something about the direct, dry heat gives it a richness that contrasts with its natural grassy flavors. One of the best things about cooking with seasonal ingredients is that things just naturally go well together; I threw ramps and chives into the pan without thinking much about it, and things turned out pretty darn well.

A squeeze of lemon keeps things bright, and a smattering of Parmesan makes them just a bit stinky and complex. All in all, it's good stuff.

Penne with Asparagus and Ramps

1/4 lb. penne rigate, cooked to al dente and drained (research 1/4 cup of cooking water)
2 tsp. olive oil
3 ramps, cleaned and cut into 1-inch pieces
4 stalks asparagus, trimmed and cut on the bias into 2-inch pieces
Juice of half a lemon
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
2 tbs. finely chopped chives
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Heat the olive oil in a medium skillet set over medium high heat. Add the ramps and saute for a few minutes, until the leafy parts are well-wilted and the white parts have some dark color. Add the asparagus to the pan and saute for several minutes more, until the asparagus begins to turn bright green and just a bit tender.

Add the lemon juice to the pan, along with the mustard. Stir to combine with the vegetables and season lightly with salt and pepper. Cook for a few moments, until the lemon juice is mostly evaporated. Add half the chives and mix to combine evenly. Add the pasta and combine evenly with the vegetables. If the sauce is a bit dry, add a touch or two of the pasta water.

Remove the pan from the heat and add the Parmesan cheese. Stir to combine, then remove to a plate. Top with the remaining chives, season to taste, and eat!

Serves one.

Me, pickled, with pickles.

Wondering what to do with those ramps you pickled a few weeks ago? How about a Gibson?

A Gibson is a classic Martini, but with cocktail onions in place of the traditional olives. Since I'm one of those freak shows who doesn't really like olives (I'll drink a Martini, but I'll leave the olives behind in the glass - though offering them up is a good way to make friends.), Gibsons are, for me, the perfect solution.

Loyal readers of this here blog know about my aversion to dry and/or vodka Martinis; that said, I think everyone should drink that which he or she truly enjoys - so, if you must, feel free to substitute vodka for the gin in this recipe. But please don't leave out the vermouth - try a real Gibson at least once. I promise you'll love it.

Pretty please?

Gibson with Pickled Ramps
Serves one, or multiply to serve as many as you like.

4 parts gin (I like Plymouth these days.)
1 part dry vermouth
2 pickled ramps per cocktail (In the absence of ramps, cocktail onions work, too!)

Combine ingredients in a pitcher (or just a large glass, if only making one or two cocktails) filled with ice. Stir slowly and gently until the glass fogs, then strain the cocktails into chilled cocktail glasses. Garnish with onions and serve.

Romping through the strawberry patch.

Summer is here, the weather in New York is hot, sticky and smelly, and - far more delightfully - strawberries abound at the Greenmarket!

This past Saturday morning, my friend Faith lured me out of my apartment and to Union Square by telling me it was still only about 65 degrees out. The second I walked outside I knew she'd been lying, but the sight of all those gorgeous berries completely made up for it. Booth after booth featured perfectly-ripened, sweet-smelling Jersey strawberries, all at the pretty reasonable price of about $5 per quart.

When you live alone, it can be tough to make it through a big pile of berries before they go bad. That's why you should arm yourself with a myriad of recipes - sweet and savory - before you go forth and indulge the passion for strawberries that lurks within us all. Cook some into a sauce, make a compote with some more, and enjoy the rest with a glass of champagne. Or two.


Strawberry and Rhubarb Compote

This is fantastic served shortcake-style (over a biscuit with some whipped cream), spooned over vanilla ice cream, or on top of plain Greek yogurt.

3-4 stalks rhubarb, leaves trimmed, strings removed, cut crosswise into 1/2 inch pieces
1/4 - 1/2 cup sugar (depending on taste)
1 quart strawberries, hulled and sliced length-wise into 1/4 inch pieces

In a medium saucepan set over medium heat, cook the rhubarb down till just softened, but still holding its shape. Stir in the sugar and heat till it dissolves in the rhubarb's juice, then stir in the strawberries.

Cook just until bubbling, then remove from heat. Once the mixture has cooled somewhat, spoon into a clean mason jar and refrigerate until you're ready to eat! It should last about two or three weeks in the fridge.

You can also eat it warm, if you so desire.

Makes approximately 3/4 quart of compote.



Strawberry Sauce with Bacon and Ramps

This sauce is great with roasted and grilled meats, particularly chicken and pork.

1/4 lb. slab bacon, cut crosswise into 1/4 inch batons
1 tbs. olive oil
1 shallot, chopped fine
1 tbs. Dijon mustard
3-4 pickled ramps, sliced crosswise into 1/4 inch pieces*
1 1/2 cups strawberries, hulled and quartered
Salt and pepper, to taste
Minced chives, to garnish

In a medium skillet set over medium-high heat, cook the bacon until most of the fat has been rendered out and the pieces are crispy. Remove with a slotted spoon and set aside. Add the olive oil to the pan and cook the shallot over medium heat until transparent and fragrant. Add the mustard and mix well with the shallots. Cook for a minute or so more.

Add the pickled ramps to the pan and cook until slightly softened. Add the strawberries and a tablespoon of water to the pan. Cook until the strawberries are warm through and the sauce has thickened slightly, then stir in the reserved bacon. Taste and adjust for seasoning before serving the sauce on top of the roasted meat or fish of your choosing.

Serves two.

*If you can't find pickled ramps and didn't put any up yourself this year, try substituting spring onions or scallions, supplemented with a pinch each of sugar and white wine vinegar.

Desperately seeking spring.

This morning, looking through my files for the photos of the ramps stand, I found a whole bunch of meals I made last spring, when the Greenmarket was in full swing and onions, eggs and herbs were spilling out of my shopping bags.

It's been a while since I felt seized by the urge to cook (as opposed to cooking for a purpose or reason, such as - you know - feeding myself), but I can feel it coming back now. I can't wait to make some of these recipes, and try out some new ones, too.

Links to the recipes pictured above:
Greenmarket Lettuce aux Lardons
Homemade Mayonnaise
Pork Chop with Nectarines and Pickled Ramps
Fettucine with Bacon and Ramps

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...

Up close and personal, part two.

During our visit to Stone Barns, Cristin and I managed to cover a lot of ground. Walking to and fro across a hilly farm helps you work up an appetite, so after a visit to the lambs, ducks, geese, pigs and greenhouses, we headed to the (very, very crowded) cafe for some lunch.

After a good fifteen minutes in line (which gave us lots of time to browse the preserves, baked goods and for me to pick out my new, giant coffee mug), we made it up to the counter. We ordered salads (parsnip and beet), sandwiches (beet and bologna) and dessert (macarons) and headed for a picnic table outside.

We settled down in the shade to enjoy our booty. For me, an open-faced sandwich made with house-made bologna, pickled vegetables, and a generous slice of house-baked focaccia. The bread was spread with a rich, grainy mustard, which, together with the pickled cauliflower and carrots, contrasted gorgeously with the rich, meaty meat and the buttery bread.

On the side, I had a little of the beet salad (dressed with dill), and we both tried the cold curried parsnips - Cristin liked those more than I did, but I have to admit they were really, really interesting. Sweet and cool, but not crunchy - toothy, you might call them.

Cristin's sandwich was a winner - the same focaccia, topped with creamy goat cheese, thinly sliced beets, sauteed ramps, and a lemon vinaigrette. Stinky and pungent, thanks to the ramps, and sweet and cool, thanks to the beets. All in all, a major, major win.

For dessert, we each tried two macarons: one raspberry with chocolate filling, and one parsnip. The raspberry was a bit too sweet for either of us, and the parsnip was just kind of...there. The macarons themselves were really well done, with the perfect chewy-crunchy texture, and a beautiful sheen on them. Maybe I've just been too spoiled by Bouchon's masterpieces?

All in all, a pretty fantastic lunch. And my new coffee mug? It holds the equivalent of two normal cups of coffee, which of course means I love it. All hail the gods of caffeine!

In a pickle.

My love for pickles is famous, in certain circles. When I was growing up in Connecticut, we'd pile in the car for drives up to my aunt and uncle's house in Massachusetts. The best part of the drive (aside from the destination, of course) was our regular pit stop at Rein's Deli just south of Hartford, where the sandwiches are massive, and the pickles just keep coming.

My love for pickling is a more recent development, but is no less of an obsession. When spring rolls around, I find myself desperate to pickle everything in sight, the better to preserve the bounty of the season through the long, cold winter I know is coming. Well, that - and I just love the sweet, vinegary crunch of a good pickle.

For the last few weeks, the greenmarket vegetable most worth pickling has been that stinky harbinger of spring: ramps. I follow this recipe from Serious Eats for my ramp pickling, and it hasn't steered me wrong yet. The fennel and coriander lend the ramps an additional complexity, enhancing their essential garlic-tinged, meaty flavor.

Pickling is super-easy, too - I don't have the storage space to do actual canning, so I just store my jars in the fridge till I have the opportunity to use the goodies I've accumulated. (Need some ideas about what to do with your bounty? Check out this link.) They also make fabulous gifts, and a couple of the jars I have in the fridge right now are slated to make their way into some hot little hands in the next couple of weeks. Lucky ducks.

A most excellent feast.

In October 2005, two of my very best friends in the world married one another, picked up, and moved to a ridiculously affordable house in Ohio. Sad as this makes me, it means that their visits to New York are super-special times for me, and their most recent visit, about three weeks back, was a blur of good times, wonderful company, and fabulous food.

On Friday night, Nick and Louisa (For those are their names!) visited Ouest (you can read Louisa's thoughts about their former neighborhood haunt here), and on Saturday night, we met up for a 9:45 reservation at Per Se. After hugs and kisses over fizzy water in the lounge (not the bar, ahem), we were seated promptly (a few minutes early, to tell the truth) at a table next to the window.

I'll start by telling you about the service, which was really quite fantastic. Gracious, attentive, and good-humored, they became more familiar (one server, a woman, saw me grinning at my foie gras and said, "I know! Isn't it exciting?") as they sensed our openness to it, and chatted with us about the wine, the petit fours, and the copies of the menu I requested toward the end of the night. The room itself is subdued, all earth tones and widely spaced tables, with the emphasis on the view of the Columbus Circle fountain four stories below, and the twinkling lamplights of Central Park beyond.

And now for the food.

Nick and I ordered the Chef's Tasting Menu, and Louisa opted for the Tasting of Vegetables. Our amuses were the trademark tuile cones; mine was filled with red onion crème fraiche and topped with a scoop of smoked salmon, and Louisa's was beets with eggplant caviar. The salmon was chopped so fine that it was almost a paste - but still made up of separate, luscious bits - and the rich, tangy crème fraiche set it off marvelously, helped along by the delicate crunch of the tuile.

Next up, another of Keller's famous dishes, "Oysters and Pearls," a sabayon of pearl tapioca with oysters and white sturgeon caviar. This dish, which I've heard described as tasting like "salty butter," was wonderful. The different textures contrasted nicely (the tapioca here is larger, similar to the bubbles in bubble tea), and the caviar was subtly salty and rich. It's a soup course, though in reality it's more a puddingy chowder.

The "salad" course was a terrine of foie gras served with a peach gelee and some other little goodies, including almonds, pickled ramps, piquillo peppers, and a beautiful slice of toasted brioche, eggy and fragrant. The texture of this terrine was, as expected of any Keller dish, refined and silky smooth. The flavor, intense, was nicely offset by the accompaniments, the ramps (I do love pickled onions) and peppers (ditto) in particular.

I was not looking forward to the first fish course, since I really just am not a big fish eater. I love my shellfish and crustaceans, but the scaly guys have never done it for me, particularly when cooked. This one, Pacific orange marlin served a la plancha (simply seared on a flat grill) with a curry-infused oil, sounded particularly icky to me (I'm not a big curry fan, either). I was soooo wrong. The fish, meaty and tender, was like a mild (I know, MILD?) tuna, and the tiniest hint of curry was actually light and refreshing. Big thumbs up.

Second fish course: butter poached lobster paired with two of the best things springtime has to offer - asparagus and morels. There's not a lot to say about this other than that butter-poached lobster is succulent, sinful, and right up my alley.

The poultry course was poussin served with turnips, kohlrabi and apples. Very good, every ingredient shining through, and very much a chicken dish - not dull - I do love chicken - but not as standout as the others.

For our meat course, Nick and I both chose the degustation of lamb (poor planning on our part, I suppose), which was very interesting. A little tour of the lamb, it featured, among other cuts, belly, shoulder (my favorite), chop, and rillettes. The peas and radishes alongside (again, the bounty of spring was everywhere) were sharp, crisp contrasts to the ever-so-slightly gamey meat.

Next, the cheese course. I feel about cheese the way I feel about fish - I love some cheeses, but I can leave about 75% of them. This one was no exception. It was a Chabichou (soft, rindless unpasteurized goat cheese), served with tapenade and artichokes (another two things I could really do without). If you love salty, olive-y things, this is for you. It was not for me. Louisa's cheese, a double-cream cheese from Sweet Grass Dairy, was. It came with pickled strawberries, and the sweet, slightly sour strawberries blended marvelously with the sinfully rich cheese.

Finally, dessert. The first of the two dessert courses (not counting the truffles, petit fours and macarons that came after) was where Nick and I found our strawberries. We had strawberry sorbet with balsamic vinegar and black pepper - wonderful, cool, and refreshing, especially after the cheese. Second, a chocolate brownie (this is, before anything, a very American restaurant) with ganache, coffee cream, and coffee ice cream. The coffee ice cream was bitter, so much so that it tasted like a skunk smells (Nick and Lou concurred, so I'm not crazy), but not in a bad way (really).

In the end, I was thrilled at the meal we had (and I didn't even talk about the wines, which were wonderful - Nick chose, so perhaps he will log on and enlighten us). The parade of food never felt like too much, and came slowly but steadily enough to keep us entertained but not straining to get the bites down. Treated with the kid gloves of classic French techniques, the flavors of every ingredient sang, creating a symphony of fresh, pure American food music. It absolutely ranked among the best meals I've had in my life, at any price point, and I am so glad we went.

After dessert, it was a double espresso, truffles, petit fours, and a package of macarons from Bouchon Bakery (vanilla, carrot cake, and pistachio) for the road. We toddled out, retrieved my menus, and had a bit of trouble with the sliding glass doors - turns out, we weren't befuddled by our excellent feast so much as we were the last people in a locked restaurant.

Per Se
Time Warner Center, 10 Columbus Circle
Broadway and 60th Street

Photos courtesy of Kiplog.com.

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?

Ramps are here. Related: all is right with the world.

It's official - spring is here! The first ramps of the season (well, the first ones that didn't head right for the restaurants) are here! Chances are they're already sold out, but if I have any luck when I visit the market this afternoon, I'll let you know!

Via Lucy's Greenmarket Report.

What's in your fridge?

Back when eGullet used to host their weekly food blog (I contributed twice, in 2006 and 2007), one of the traditions was for the week's featured blogger to invite us into their refrigerator. And if the blogger didn't comply within the first day or so, people practically revolted!

I might be exaggerating just a tad, but people's appetite for that glimpse into the fridge never failed to amaze me. So, since my fridge is chockablock full of late-spring goodies right now, I thought it might be time to give you all a little tour...

On the top shelf, we've got my Brita, some cranberry juice (for visitors who like a vodka cran, or a cosmo), my current jar of pickled ramps, a jar of Rick's Picks, a tub of Fage yogurt, Diet Coke (it fuels me), leftover Vietnamese food, Sriracha, some cold chicken (in the tinfoil) and this week's salad dressing (in the bowl.).

On the middle shelf, there's tonic water (diet and regular), some Magic Hat brought over by a book club member on Thursday, lemons & limes, some more Vietnamese leftovers (and slab bacon perched on top), and a line-up of jars holding strawberry-rhubarb compote and more pickled ramps.

On the bottom shelf, there are some strawberries (not local - a freebie from FreshDirect), romaine lettuce, rhubarb, spring garlic, and eggs! In the drawer we've got onions, snap peas, cucumbers, shallots, scallions...and I think that's it. The door is an assortment of various condiments, pickles, vinegars and oils (they stay fresh longer in the fridge) and cheese. Oh, and garlic!

So, what's in your fridge?

The incredible, edible egg.

Eggs are a truly miraculous food. They enrich, they bind, they nourish, and they color. They come in myriad colors and sizes, but aside from leaner or fatter, the shape is pretty much the same all around.

Eggs are one of the world's great foodstuffs - every culture has had their way with them, and we're really all better off for it. Pickled, coddled, soft-boiled, fried, scrambled, or just stirred into hot pasta, they make everything better. Really.

But until you have had a truly fresh, local, all-natural egg, you just haven't lived. Until you have cracked a speckled blue Araucana egg into a hot pan and watched its orange - not yellow - yolk slide out and stand at attention in the middle of the white (displaying what egg aficionados refer to as "muscle tone"), you haven't made a fried egg the way it was meant to be made.

This weekend, it probably goes without saying, I went a little nutty with a half-dozen local eggs I bought at the Greenmarket on Saturday morning.

First up, lunch. I had some bacon lying around, and had bought some gorgeous cucumbers, red leaf lettuce, wild spring onions (in addition to a few bunches of ramps), and shallots. I decided to combine everything into a delicious bastardization of my favorite salad, frisée aux lardons.

I mixed up a sherry-shallot vinaigrette (adding a bit of honey to mellow out the vinegar and help emulsify things without adding too much oil), cleaned the lettuce, and sauteed the onions in the rendered bacon fat. The cukes went down over the lettuce, then the dressing, then the bacon and onions, and, finally, I fried that blue egg up and put it right on top. Oh, yeah. Seriously good - even better once I'd poked the yolk and mixed the eggy goodness into the rest of the salad.

Still to come, chapters two (chicken salad with homemade mayonnaise) and three (fresh pasta with ramps, bacon, and an egg).

Greenmarket Lettuce aux Lardons

Dressing:
1 small shallot, minced
1/2 tsp. Dijon mustard
1/2 tsp. honey
Pinch salt
1 1/2 tsp. sherry vinegar
1 tbs. olive oil

Salad:
2 strips bacon, cut crosswise into 1/2 inch batons
1 tbs olive oil
5-6 spring onions (or scallions), cleaned, trimmed and cut into 1-inch pieces
3 cups (about 1/4 head) red leaf lettuce, ripped into bite-sized pieces
1 small Kirby cucumber, halved lengthwise, seeded, and cut into 1/4 inch half-moons
1 egg

Make the dressing: in a small, heavy bowl, mix the shallot, mustard, honey, salt and vinegar together until combined. Add the olive oil in a thin stream, whisking constantly, until emulsified. Set aside.

Make the salad: Heat a small skillet over medium-high heat. Add the bacon and reduce the heat to medium. Cook until crisp and until most of the fat is rendered out. Take the bacon out with a slotted spoon and set aside. Drain all but 1/2 tsp. of the bacon fat from the pan, add the olive oil and the onions, and sautée until the onions are tender and slightly browned. Add to the reserved bacon.

Wipe the pan with a damp paper towel, add a bit more olive oil, and fry the egg over medium heat until the white is just set, but the yolk is still runny. Meanwhile, arrange the lettuce, cucumbers, onions and bacon in a shallow bowl or on a plate, and top with the dressing. Once the egg is done, slide it out on top of the salad - and eat right away!

Serves one.