Pickled Ramps on Toast

Things happen all the time to affirm my love for where we live. Being given a jar of pickled ramps by Colby's speech therapist at school was one such moment. The gift filled me with a strong sense of place and community: place because the ramps are a wild harvested plant, seasonal and from the forest floor; and community because this teacher we love and respect is thinking of us beyond the scope of her daily, intelligent work with our precious daughter. I mean, that is pretty awesome. And, I really love ramps, and I really, really love pickled everything.
Craig set them on the counter and we contemplated. First we tasted one straight from the jar, and then we started ruminating. I suggested, more feverishly than lazily, that we could just eat them straight from the jar with an occasional sip of freezing cold white wine while we stared at the blue sky and absorbed the feeling of spring.
Craig took a quieter, longer approach, screwed the lid on tight and shooed me away from the jar. I waited and shouted ideas into the kitchen while playing with the kids. A few in a bowl of ramen. Adorning a plate of grilled hangar steak. A palate cleanser with some fried fish.
Then Craig brought to the table this lovely plate, this sun dial that reads spring. The very necessary, ever present salt packed anchovies. Butter. Pickled ramps. We had fresh ramps so he sliced thin the slender leaves and sprinkled them over the plate. And the bread, the bread, lightly toasted here, is another recent local marvel, Wide Awake Bakery. Crisp, watery radishes are beautifully refreshing with the salty pickles and anchovies. Fresh, easy spring recipes are finally upon us!

Pickled Ramps:

Fresh ramps, cleaned carefully, bulbs and stems separated from the leaves (use the leaves to make a pesto or saute with other veggies.)

Make the brine:
Bring 1 C white wine vinegar, 1 C water, scant 1/2 C sugar to a boil and boil until sugar dissolves.

Blanch ramp bulbs and stems for 15 seconds in boiling water and then plunge them in
an ice water bath until cool. Dry on a towel.

Sterilize small jars and lids and rims as you do for pickles.

To each clean jar add:

1 fresh bay leaf
1/2 tsp fennel seeds
1/2 tsp black peppercorns
1/2 tsp coriander seeds
1/2 tsp mustard seeds
a pinch of red pepper flakes

Fill the jar with the blanched ramps. Fill with pickling liquid. Clean rims and lid them. Put them in the canner (boil with jars submerged) for 10 minutes.

Blue Cheese and Summer's Tomatoes

This salad is so simple and so perfect. When I read it in the summer 2010, volume number 4, "Canal House" it seemed so obvious a combination I just couldn't believe I'd never had it. I read the recipe before our first local, giant, delicious, sun ripened tomatoes arrived. I held this recipe in my apron pocket, ready for the tomato, the irrefutable harbinger of summer. As I waited, I contemplated blue cheese.

Blue cheese has a wonderful association with friendship for me: standing in Meredith's Grandma's 1950's, canary yellow linoleum kitchen, staring at a hunk of blue cheese, each of us ready, with daring in our hearts, to cross from the cheddar of childhood to the blue cheese of adulthood. We were only eleven or twelve, but we knew that, for sure, imminently, our life was to be a whirl of glamour and cocktail parties, both of us glittering wits in swishing skirts and smart jackets. And for this, we had to prepare. First, by appreciating blue cheese.

We tasted it. We loved it, sincerely. The sharp creaminess, the crumbly texture, the demanding presence on the tongue. We sliced giant, freezing cold, green grapes into circles and stacked them on Wheat Thins, and topped it with a crumble of blue cheese. The flavor, the smells, the ingenuity of our chic, towering recipe, we knew life was only going to get better and better.

Awaiting the tomatoes, I found a blue cheese from Northland Dairy at the Farmers Market. I told Mary Rose the recipe it laid in wait to be used in and she exclaimed, "I don't have my summer Canal House yet!" And suddenly, we connected a little more, knowing our shared love for Canal House. I told her the issue was a dream, and as if saving the story line of a heavenly movie, restrained myself from telling her anymore.

Finally, tomatoes arrived at Brownie's fruit stand,and the next day at Ludgates. I made the salad. It was like falling in love: life felt more complete. As I ate, as slow as a turtle, savoring, savoring, I wondered if the Canal House Gals as we call them, knew Mary Rose and Northland Dairy. If they do not, I am sure it would be love. Their hearts are the same. The blue cheese is so, so good. The balance of salt, the texture, it is alive in your mouth. To quote the Avett Brothers "I hope I don't sound to insane when I say..." but, I feel like you can taste the reverence Northland Dairy has for its animals, for the process of its supremely hand crafted production. And that is how the Canal House Gals are, they care.

They care and they share their deep knowledge, the beautiful yields of their refined, elegant work. And, they are friends. Which inspired me to serve this salad to my friend, in honor of her thirtieth birthday. Across from a table set for lunch, with tall glasses of champagne beading up in the humidity, I could see her senses pause as she looked at the combination of tomato, anchovy and blue cheese. Then she took a bite and said, "I could eat this everyday." Everyday that the tomatoes are from plants nearby, raised in dirt, in the sun, we will. Eat well, savor the season, enjoy friendships.

Sliced Tomato Salad With Blue Cheese and Anchovies

Big, ripe tomatoes
Blue cheese
Anchovies, salt packed tastes best
the best olive oil you can find
red wine vinegar
garlic
salt
pepper

Mince small garlic clove and combine with one tablespoon vinegar. Season with salt and pepper. Stir in 3-4 tablespoons olive oil.
Arrange two or three fat tomato slices on plate, and spoon dressing over them. Lay blue cheese, then anchovies. Season with more salt or pepper.
Because this is not mixed or blended and the proportions are important, plate each individual serving.