Notes from a Maine Kitchen Blog Archive 2007
Submitted by Kathy Gunst on Tue, 05/29/2007 - 4:32pm.
Have you ever met someone new and been so taken with them that you wondered how you lived your whole life up to that point without them? I know it sounds dramatic, but that's how I feel about ramps. I'd never encountered them (or more importantly tasted them) until a few years ago. It was as if my palette had never known such a pure, vivid, lively flavor. It's a flavor I now call the essence of spring.
Ramps have no subtlety. They don't whisper.
Submitted by Kathy Gunst on Wed, 05/23/2007 - 8:50am.
It's pouring rain. Is this the fourth or fifth day without sun, or maybe it's the sixth? In all honesty, I've stopped counting. But rain, I remind myself, means things will grow. The grass has turned an undeniable bright green, losing its pallid winter gray. The tiny, baby-size buds on the lilac bushes are beginning to pop and are a lovely pale green. The forsythia is here, its brilliant yellow flowers blazing like a proud banner that screams "You made it!" Spring is here. Don't lose hope." I want