The joy of (seasonal) cooking
and a recipe for wild ramps to try before it’s too late, plus the perfect crushed pea spread
For some, it’s pretty teacups. Others might choose Depression glass, Fiestaware, oil cans, cutting boards, Star Trek memorabilia or baseball cards. The really serious go big with vintage cars or watches. Me, I collect cookbooks.
Like any collection, it starts innocently enough. A special gift, an inherited treasure, a passion combined with a collectable. Or simply the thrill of the hunt. Once you start collecting something, you discover another world: auctions, flea markets, estate sales, online sources for the collectables; members-only clubs and gatherings for the substantial stuff. The one thing that unites the whole is community: like-minded people who appreciate the thrill of the find and the joy it can bring.
Curling up with a good cookbook
At a little over 500 cookbooks, mine is still a fairly modest collection (you can read here about someone who has over 7000 cookbooks). The sources are many - gifts, finds, hand-me-downs - and the provenance of each one has a tiny story to tell. There is nothing more satisfying than curling up with a great cookbook, where I can be transported to a different place in time, a table, a meal or a dish in a heartbeat, wrapped in beautiful stories that are as human-centred as they are food-centred. And so there is usually a cookbook or two at the bedside table along with other reads.
The joy of seasonal cooking
And as with many things, the 80/20 rule applies to cookbooks too. But spring brings a certain group of cookbooks in my collection to the forefront. They’re the harbingers of the change of season, much like the tiny first crocuses or the big fat robins in my garden. Written with an ethos that focuses on in-season first, and guided by the principle that simple is best when ingredients are at their peak, they are love letters to Mother Nature’s bounty. When magical ramps, amazing morels, the first rhubarb and asparagus start appearing along with the daffodils and tulips, it’s time to dig in.
So today and over the next few weeks I wanted to share several of my favourite seasonal cookbooks and some of the simple and delicious recipes they feature that make the most of the season - whatever that season looks like today.
First up: A Girl and Her Greens, by April Bloomfield. Bloomfield is a celebrity chef perhaps most famous for bringing nose-to-tail cooking to the forefront, which she celebrated in her first cookbook, A Girl and Her Pig (not that I, the child of Italian immigrants who butchered a pig every fall, needed to be sold on that concept). But as she says in her introduction, meat is like an action film: you like them, but you don’t want to watch them all the time. She goes on:
You know when you like something so much that it makes you not just nod your head in satisfaction but shake your head in disbelief? That’s what happens when I find that perfectly sweet pea. So many things conspire to make that pea – the weather, the soil, the farmer – and there you are at the receiving end. It makes me happy and grateful.
from the introduction to A Girl and Her Greens, April Bloomfield
What I know is that I am happy and grateful for Bloomfield’s love of all things green. A Girl and Her Greens is not a vegetarian cookbook - one chapter is called a little beast goes a long way - but veggies are definitely the star of the show.
So if you have a source for in-season wild ramps, and when spring peas come your market, give these two recipes a try. They will make you happy and grateful too.
Crushed Spring Peas with Mint
from A Girl and Her Greens, April Bloomfield
serves 2
In case you’re wondering if the recipe is missing a step, the peas really are raw. It relies on the season’s best and freshest to make it shine. And if you can find it, black mint has a clean flavour that is wonderful.
Ingredients
2 cups fresh peas (from about 2 pounds pods)
1 ounce (30 gr) aged Pecorino Romano cheese, finely grated
1 1/2 teaspoons Maldon or another flaky sea salt
1 small spring garlic clove or 1/2 small garlic clove, smashed, peeled and roughly chopped
12 medium mint leaves
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Scant 2 tablespoons lemon juice, plus more for finishing
Directions
Combine the ingredients in a food processor and pulse to a coarse puree, about 45 seconds.
Scrape the mixture into a bowl and roughly stir and smoosh a bit so it’s a little creamy, and a little chunky.
Season to taste with more salt and lemon juice—you want it to taste sweet and bright but not acidic.
Serve with fresh cut veggies, smeared on toast, or as a sandwich spread.
Ramps with Fried Eggs
from A Girl and Her Greens, April Bloomfield
serves 2-4, depending on appetite!
3/4 pound ramps, trimmed and separated into white bulbs, purple stems and greater leaves
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into chucks
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
Maldon or other flaky salt
4 large eggs
Pinch of dried pepper flakes or Aleppo pepper
1/2 lemon
Halve any ramp bulbs thicker than a medium garlic clove. Cut the stems into 1 inch lengths and cut the leaves crosswise into thirds.
Combine the butter and oil in a 10-inch nonstick skillet over medium heat. When the butter melts and froths, add the bulbs and stems, and cook until the bulbs are translucent, about 3 minutes.
Add a generous pinch of salt to the pan and then sprinkle the leaves evenly on top of the bulbs and stems. Turn heat to medium-high and sauté, stirring occasionally, until the bulbs have spots of golden brown, about 5 minutes more. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the greens to a dish, leaving behind as much fat as possible.
With the pan still at medium-high heat, crack the eggs into the pan, spacing them out a bit. Sprinkle with the chili flakes and a pinch of salt over each egg. cook until the whites have just set, about 1 minute. Spoon the ramp mixture over eggs, avoiding the yolks.
Cover the pan, turn off the heat and let the eggs sit until they are cooked to your liking (about 2 minutes for runny yolks, more if desired). Squeeze on enough lemon juice to add brightness. Serve immediately.
For some of April Bloomfield’s favourite cookbooks, click here. I’m glad to see many are already in my collection!