I love spring. It has to be my most favorite time of the year. I live in upstate New York (north of Albany) with four very distinct seasons, all beautiful, but spring… it is hands down the best. This year we had a very mild winter, which was a good thing, because we opted not to go to Florida for the winter break, but it makes me a little concerned about how soon the summer heat will be here. I don’t like the summer heat. At all.
It is late March, and already the daffodils are in bloom, and the farmer is plowing our cornfield under to get ready for the new cycle of planting.
I am anxiously watching the spring crops of chives, rhubarb and asparagus. The chives can be harvested now to use on top of earthy baked potatoes, scattered on omelets made with neon orange eggs from the foraging hens, and laid atop anything that needs a hint of oniony goodness. The rhubarb is prized in pie, and no strawberry is in sight. Our rhubarb is thin stalked, slightly tart and slightly sweet, and perfect on its own. Asparagus… the ultimate spring treat. I love it roasted with good olive oil, sea salt and fresh cracked pepper, until the tips are dark and crispy, and the stalks lusciously soft. My husband likes to douse his in balsamic vinegar, but I love mine as is straight from the pan.
Twilight is approaching, the tractor is purring in the background, and the daffodils are bowing their heads… spring perfection.
