I was tempted to title this post “The Girl Who Ate Venice.” I think I mentioned to you that I went on a juice fast the second we touched down at JFK. I wouldn’t say we grossly overindulged, but you know that restaurant food is just that much richer, and I can’t say we really denied ourselves much. Everywhere you go in Venice, people are eating gelato, and the flavors are irresistible: the deepest, most fragrant coffee; nutty pistachio; fior di latte (flower of milk) that tastes of the purest cream; fig and walnut; fresh strawberry…who could resist? I was armed with 6 pages of restaurant recommendations, culled from friends, the internet and a long-hoarded issue of Departures magazine devoted to Venice, and I feel like we barely made a dent. We didn’t make it to either Da Fiore or Alle Testiere, two much-touted restaurants on everyone’s lists, but we had many wonderful meals.

You may have noticed that most of the Venice photos were taken by G. Despite my best intentions, I find that I get caught up in the moment when we’re traveling, and have a hard time remembering to shoot. Also, when you’re in a cozy little trattoria surrounded by locals, you don’t really want to pull out your honking Nikon (or even your iphone) and start snapping away. That said, there’s plenty of eye candy coming up.

seafood diet

On our first day, stumbling exhausted out of the Rialto market, we simply collapsed at a sidewalk table outside a little restaurant crowded with locals (always a good sign). Artichokes were in season and everywhere at the market, so I ordered the artichoke pizza, and G had the gnocchi with mussels, which came with a rich oily tomato sauce that was to die for. Ultimately, Venice is all about the seafood and most menus feature the local specialties, like polenta with tiny shrimp, risotto with langoustines, cuttlefish braised in its ink, fritto misto, and pasta with clams or mussels or spider crab.

That night, we met up with friends for dinner at Harry’s Dolci in the Giudecca, where you can dine outside right along the canal, looking at the sparkling lights of Venice across the way. I passed on the classic Bellini and had a whiskey sour which was perfection. Then I dug into a big plate of their renowned pasticcio (pastiche), essentially a deconstructed lasagna that is a glorious mess of pasta and bechamel and cheese and a few unimportant vegetables.

use your noodle

The next day, after we’d gotten our bearings a bit, we had lunch at Al Covo, a sweet restaurant owned by an Italian man and his American wife. It’s friendly to tourists without seeming inauthentic, and it has a very seasonal approach to traditional Venetian food.  The restaurant is calm and lovely, and a fresh breeze came through the curtained windows. I had a wonderful lemony pasta with the meat and roe of the impressive spider crab from Venice’s lagoon.

shell game

G had the iconic moeche on the very last day they were available during their short season. In a technique that goes back to the 1500s, these tiny crabs are “matured” in wooden crates in the internal waters of the lagoon until their shells soften. They were lightly grilled and served without salt, as they maintain their own naturally perfect sea-salt flavor. It came accompanied with a salad of valeriana, which seemed to be some sort of mâche.

sole asylum

Next I had a delicate filet of sole with more of those tender artichokes, atop a thin puddle of celery root puree and garnished with some fried parsley.

spear me

And we couldn’t resist ordering some of those delectable asparagus we’d seen at the market. Drizzled with pungent olive oil and a bit of egg mimosa, they did not disappoint.

get your licks in

Dessert was a few scoops of vanilla gelato kicked into the stratosphere with a light dusting of licorice powder and a couple of slicks of licorice syrup. Who knew this would be such an intensely compelling flavor combination? And those crunchy butter biscuits were not simply gratuitous.

So, as you can see, we ate well. But to be perfectly honest with you, while there is no shortage of classic, well-executed food in Venice, the only real epiphany I had was realizing how spoiled we are in New York. There is no David Chang in Venice. Many of the seafood preparations I’ve had from Dave Pasternak’s Il Pesce at Eataly surpass anything from the lagoon. And, perhaps most surprisingly given all the beautiful produce we saw at the Rialto market—the artichokes, the radicchio, the green cauliflower, the agretti, the pristine lettuces—there is scarcely a vegetable on any restaurant menu. And this, for a vegivore like me, makes for tough going. With some planning and a little luck, you are not going to have a bad meal here, but it’s really more about the wine (oh, those amarones), the ambience, the vistas, the history, the sheer Veniceness of the place.

totally rawsome

That said, we did enjoy some special places. The Fondamenta delle Zattere runs the length of the south side of the Dorsoduro neighborhood where we were staying, along the Giudecca Canal. It’s a popular spot to stroll, with some fascinating buildings, including the Ospedale degli Incurabili, where 16th century syphilitics were housed to live out their lunatic lives. Some of our friends stayed in a sweet little hotel there, La Calcina and Ristorante Riviera is right nearby. G and I had a lazy lunch there, involving a seemingly bottomless bottle of sparkling rosé and some equally refreshing seafood. We started with an assortment of crudi, 8 different types of raw fish, each one flavored differently. There was salmon with a swirl of creamy burrata cheese, tuna with mandarin, mackerel with strawberry; other flavors included vanilla, lime zest, fennel, mint and passionfruit. It was quite good, although we were imagining what it might have been like with judicious sprinklings of different sea salts…

rice, venetian style

We shared a divine risotto with a deeply green puree of spring herbs and a few pieces of sweet shrimp. The rice in Venice is always cooked to a toothy, soupy perfection.

meat me in venice

Despite the many well-researched restaurants we tried (the list and more highlights are below), some of my favorite food moments on the trip were the serendipitous ones, when you are simply wandering and chance upon a little café or gelatteria or sidewalk restaurant, and you plop down and point to something and suddenly your mouth is full of crunchy toast topped with a creamy fluff of whipped salt cod, or the best mortadella of your life, or the classic spritz (“spreetz”), an effervescent mix of Aperol and prosecco. Try your luck in Venice, at least some of the time.

you scream, i scream

When all else fails, there is always gelato. The málaga (rum raisin) is sin incarnate. If you order the modest little coppette, you might even try three different flavors a day. Everybody’s doing it.

your humble servant

Recommended restaurants in Venice:

Osteria L’Orto dei Mori – Campo dei Mori, Cannaregio; www.osteriaortodeimori.com; closed Tuesday

We had a boozy dinner here with a big bunch of friends and, even though we got into a fight with the waiter (it was ultimately resolved with kisses all around, very high-drama Italian), this was my favorite Venetian find. It’s a cozy place in a lovely, quiet neighborhood and it’s almost entirely populated by locals. The young Sicilian chef makes exquisite and creative arrays of antipasti and traditional Italian favorites. The scampi en saor (sweet and sour shrimp) were divine. It’s also a very good value.

Harry’s Dolci -  Giudecca; www.cipriani.com

Sit outside on the canal, sipping bellinis or a whiskey sour. Eat rich, simple classics. Dress up.

Al Covo – Campiello della Pescaria, Castello; www.ristorantealcovo.com; closed Wednesday and Thursday

Considered among Venice’s finest; traditional and updated seafood classics; lovely service; see above for details. Not cheap.

Ristorante Riviera – Zattere, Dorsoduro; www.alpesador.it

Great location on the canal, wonderful service, sparkling fresh seafood. Pricey.

Avogaria – Dorsoduro; www.avogaria.com

This charming restaurant is attached to a little hotel. We had a nice, simple dinner here with good food, wine and service. Try the fritto misto, and don’t miss the involtini—thin strips of zucchini rolled around milky cheese.

La Bitta – San Barnaba, Dorsoduro

Sick of seafood? We were actually with a friend who doesn’t like fish, so we indulged her with a visit to this all-meat trattoria. It has a low-key, homey vibe and very friendly service. I had delicious slow-stewed pork cheeks. I also treated myself to a cheese plate that was a highlight of the trip, including grillo di monte major; monte veronese al durello; asiago stravecchio; formadj frant; and gorgonzola naturale. It came with an insanely good fragolaceto, a strawberry balsamic, and mostarda di pomodori, a tomato-based mustard. Still dreaming of this.

We hit the ground running in Venice, dropping our bags at the sweet garden apartment we rented in the Dorsoduro neighborhood (more on that another day), and hoofed it right up to Canareggio in the northern part of the city to visit Gianni Basso Stampatore. G had brought me to this dark sliver of a shop on Calle del Fumo last time we were in Venice, but it was closed on that cold day in early January and I vowed to return. The window was tantalizingly full of gorgeous calling cards created for an eclectic roster of luminaries, including names as diverse as Hugh Grant, Pierre Bergé and Gael Greene. Gianni himself mans the shop (though his son now works with him, too) and I was thrilled to spend some time with this genial Venetian who is responsible for such beautiful letterpress creations.

the art of the matter

Gianni’s collection of stamps includes everything from the winged lion that is the symbol of Venice to heraldic crests, charming animals, complex filigrees and lovely botanicals. If you don’t find something you like (impossible!) he will even create a new one for you from the many reference books on hand.

gianni come lately

Gianni was apprenticed to Armenian monks at age 14 to learn his trade and has become something of a legend in Venice (and beyond), where his nickname is Gutenberg. Like virtually everything authentic in this city, his shop has the rich patina of age and is filled with artifacts, including the antique presses and ancient stamps he uses, and even some engravings from the first edition of Pinocchio. Despite all this, the maestro is very down to earth and will even gossip with you about his famous clients. And doesn’t he totally remind you of an Italian Jeff Daniels?

stamps of approval

The hardest part is choosing which of his amazing collection of images you want to have on your custom-designed bookplates, business cards or stationery. Gianni has a good eye and will help you pick your fonts and colors. I work quickly and intuitively and so does he, so we had a lot of fun, even though my Italian is not much better than his English.

stamping ground

You are free to roam about the shop touching everything, snooping, calling out questions and generally getting into mischief. Gianni is very tolerant. Oh, and he only takes cash.

pressing engagement

There are several intriguing pieces of equipment, and a few gorgeous slabs of well-worn marble that have been used as work surfaces for centuries.

paper chase

Of course there is wonderfully thick and pulpy Venetian paper and be sure to choose those feathery deckled edges. I’m so happy that I went all out and treated myself to Glutton for Life calling cards featuring what Gianni called la zucca ironica (the wry pumpkin), as well as personalized note cards with the most beautiful plant, roots and all.

printed matter

If you don’t have a trip to Venice planned in the near future and are craving some equally sophisticated custom-engraved bookplates or stationery, I suggest you visit Thornwillow Press. It has a similar reverence for Old World craftsmanship which, in these latter days, cannot be overestimated.

Venice is truly transporting. The magic of the place is hard to describe. It’s a convergence of so many things: beautiful muted colors, lovely gardens, a culture of art, rich history, outdoor cafés, unique topography, no cars, the patina of age. It’s arguably the world’s most beautiful city, and definitely one you must visit in this lifetime. It’s hard to say what is my favorite aspect but, if pressed, I might name the Rialto market. All and sundry turn up here on a daily basis to shop for seafood, fresh fruit and vegetables, as well as meats and cheeses. Elegant Venetian matrons pulling their trolleys, gawking tourists with cameras, young couples in love and mothers with strollers rub shoulders in front of amazing displays of the Veneto’s finest. It’s here you get a sense of the unique riches this region has to offer. As everywhere in Venice, there are little cafés surrounding the market, my favorite of which is Al Mercà, really no more than a kiosk where you can get fantastic wines and the very best little sandwiches.

bite size

You grab your wine and stand around in the little square, munching your snacks and watching the people go by. It’s a tradition for locals and, as a tourist, makes you feel a part of the place. I enjoyed the San Daniele prosciutto with robiola cheese and truffle, and the tuna with radicchio and horseradish, along with a glass of sparkling rosé. The market opens at 7am; I recommend you go around 10, wander for an hour, and stop at Al Mercà for the first of many rounds of refreshment (after your morning cappuccino, of course).

the bounty

The Rialto market is near the Rialto bridge over the Grand Canal in the San Polo neighborhood (sestiere). It’s been there since the 11th century, though the buildings were rebuilt after a fire in 1514. It’s essentially an open air market that’s held under some tents and stone archways. There’s the Erberia, the greenmarket, and the Campo delle Pescheria for fish—including delicacies indigenous to the lagoon— as well as several butchers and a cheese shop.

small purple artichokes look like edible flowers

artichokes prepared for cooking float in barrels of lemony water

we were there in peak asparagus season

i’ve never seen such fat, pristine white asparagus

treviso radicchio: farmers of the Veneto have applied for Protected Geographical Status for some varieties

barba di frate, aka agretti, is a salt-tolerant succulent that can be eaten raw or cooked

zucchini blossoms, a venetian specialty

sundried tomatoes

fragole di bosco, alpine strawberries, have an intoxicating fragrance and wild taste

the market had a selection of exotic imports including these spanish loquats

campo delle pescheria

local cuttlefish, often braised in its ink with pasta or rice

fishmongers at work

some of their knives

langostinos are among the many sea delicacies of venice

scallops on the halfshell with their roe

local spider crabs

an entire butcher shop is devoted to horse meat

horse salumi

two very contented visitors

Henry James said “Though there are some disagreeable things in Venice there is nothing so disagreeable as the visitors,” and though I can’t really refute that, I persist in being one of them. And so should you. The more often we go, the more at home there we will be.

Venice was perfection. I’m so excited to tell you all about it, but I’m still organizing photos and sifting through my impressions. Please check back next week to read about the restaurants, the markets, the parties and the romance of one of the world’s most glorious cities. We returned home to a word in full flower. I had been hoping to see some black locust trees in bloom this year, as I have read about the wonderfully fragrant edible flowers, and suddenly there they were by the dozens as we drove through Paramus, New Jersey, en route from the airport. Serendipity!

similar to a sweet pea

Equipped with the pair of garden shears I keep in the car for just such encounters, I gathered armfuls of branches festooned with flowers and swooned at their delicate perfume, akin to the sweet scent of orange blossoms. Robinia pseudoacacia is a tree related to the pea family, believe it or not and, as with other leguminous plants, its leaves fold together in wet weather and at night. It’s a native species with dark, deeply furrowed bark and wood prized for being extremely hard. You’ll often see it planted alongside streets and in parks, especially in large cities, because it tolerates pollution well. The long clusters of white blossoms hang down, sort of reminiscent of wisteria. The flowers are pea-like and creamy with a yellow spot on the upper petal. If this spot is bright yellow, the flowers are good to eat; if it is dull or faded, they are too old. Eaten raw, they taste a bit like pea shoots. They can be tossed with cream for a decadent pasta sauce or divine ice cream, or folded into a sweet batter and fried for the most ethereal fritter ever.

nectar of the gods

Since I am on a post-Venice juice fast, I decided to forego all of the above and use my blossoms in a light elixir made with lemon juice, water and a little orange blossom honey. It’s spring in a glass.

why don’t they call it pinkbud?

The Eastern redbud outside our kitchen window is an early bloomer. The petals fall down and create a rosy carpet that looks like something out of a fairytale.

this bud’s for you

Someone told me that the flowers make good eating when they are fresh and full of nectar. I imagine this is what the wood sprites subsist on.

the color of liz taylor’s eyes

Or maybe they’re eating these tender beauties. I must have spent an hour collecting this bowlful of wild violets in a nearby field. They are as soft as a baby’s eyelids.

flower power

Candied violets were a popular delicacy during Victorian times. They’re also delicious fresh, tossed into a salad or garnishing a panna cotta.

sweet surrender

I made a syrup with my violets, steeping the flowers overnight and then mixing the strained liquid with simple syrup and a splash of lemon juice. The color is lovely and there’s a floral hint, but I think any heat really masks their delicate aroma and flavor (though Winnie seems to have had good luck making violet jelly). If you’ve never eaten flowers, I suggest this be the year you nibble on some rose petals, toss a couple of dandelions in your salad, make nasturtium butter or at least slurp a little sweet nectar.

There’s good new and there’s bad news. I’ll give you the bad first: My blog was horribly hacked and all sorts of things went haywire. The subscriber email alerts stopped working, the site got “blacklisted” and who knows what else. On the upside, magical elves have stepped in and made some changes, so everything should be working well soon if not right now. A new design is forthcoming in the next month or so. AND,  I’m leaving for Venice this evening!! It is, without a doubt, among the most magical places I have ever been. This time, G and I rented a little garden apartment in Dorsoduro for the week and plan to shop at the Rialto market, eat cichetti and stroll aimlessly to our hearts’ content. And let’s not forget the impetus for the trip: a black-tie birthday bash in honor of a dear friend at this glorious palazzo…

palazzo loredan dell’ambasciatore

Despite our recent Hawaiian idyll, I feel desperately in need of a vacation and am longing for a few carefree days with the freedom to explore and discover, and no pressure from deadlines. I promise plenty of pictures and detailed accounts of all the wonders we encounter. Ciao for now!

A few years back, New York magazine announced that eating goat was starting to become a trend. A reader wrote into its website, saying, Here are white people again!!!! Acting like they invented goat meat. That’s pretty funny, and also painfully true. Goat is actually the meat most consumed around the world. We’re behind, people.

Goat is not only delicious, it’s sustainable, higher in protein than beef and lower in fat than chicken. This leanness makes it particularly good when braised or steamed so it doesn’t dry out. Fresh goat is still hard to find in New York City markets, so I imagine it’s not readily available from your average grocer. Try farmers markets or Halal butchers, or look for it on the menus of hip, locavore-friendly restaurants.

At Scarpetta, Scott Conant is known for his roasted capretto—that’s Italian for baby goat aka kid. At Girl and the Goat in Chicago, chef Stephanie Izard—who got into goat (and named her restaurant for it) when she discovered that izard is a breed of Pyrenees goat—uses it in a homemade sausage on pizza and in a ragú with gooseberries and rosemary that she tosses with homemade pappardelle. Now she buys her goat from a local farm (as do I) and goes through seven whole goats each week (I do not).

steam table

My go-to recipe for goat is from Mexican cooking authority Rick Bayless by way of a restaurant in Jalisco that specializes in birria, a savory stew that’s really a bowl of chile-based broth combined with chopped or pulled roasted meat and served with corn tortillas, onions, cilantro and fresh lime. Now my mouth is watering. There are a few easy steps and in the end you wind up with something authentically delicious that you could serve to real Mexicans or a deserving bunch of gringos. I use a deboned leg that’s been tied, but on the bone might be even better (more flavor). First, you steam it, well-wrapped, on a rack in the oven over a watery bed of onions and garlic.

out of the oven

If you’ve eaten some gamey old goat somewhere and are afraid to try it again, be brave. A young goat which has met its end at around 9 months and who, up until then, frolicked happily in green pastures, is sweet, tender and delicious.

spice of life

The next step is to make a wonderful chile sauce rich with sesame seeds and classic Mexican spices, including clove, cinnamon and cumin. I also used Mexican oregano which we grew in our garden last summer and dried. Very satisfying.

chile today

Still a chile virgin? ¡Basta! This is your moment. Latinos are now so prevalent in this country that you can usually find a good selection in most markets, but you can also order them here or here. Many of the Mexican chiles are not super-spicy; it’s more about their complex flavor that includes hints of chocolate, wine and earth.

glazed over

You separate the steamed (and now slightly cooled) meat into big hunks, lay it in a roasting pan and pour most of the sauce over. Then it roasts until the meat is beautifully glazed. While it’s in the oven, you take the remaining chile sauce, the oniony liquid left over from the steaming step, as well as tomatoes, agave and cider vinegar, and blend it all into the sauce you’ll serve with the roasted goat.

shreds of evidence

When the goat is done, you chop or shred it as you would barbecued pork. I like to pour some of the sauce over it, and serve the rest at the table, along with chopped onion, cilantro and some hot sauce, like Tabasco.

a crisp slaw is the perfect side dish

I make a simple slaw to tuck into warm tortillas along with the goat meat. You can find my recipe here. Together, it’s pretty much the perfect combination of salty, spicy, sweet, tangy and savory, with just the right crunch. For dessert, I made a chocolate sorbet spiked with a little cinnamon. It was pretty divine. Let me know if you’re interested in that recipe.

come to the table

Is there anything better than sitting down for a late Saturday lunch with good friends?

“She’s really let herself go.” When I hear someone say that about a woman—usually in a pitying or disdainful tone—it gets my hackles up. First of all, how often have you heard this said about a man? And secondly, shouldn’t letting yourself go be a good thing? Doesn’t it sound wonderfully liberating? Turns out it means she’s no longer living up to the stringent standards of female beauty. She doesn’t tweeze her eyebrows, wear lipstick, starve her body into submission or dye her hair. She’s “showing her age.” To be perfectly honest, I’m usually quite careful about the pictures I post of myself, but today I deliberately chose one in which I’m not wearing a speck of makeup and in which, frankly, I look like what I am: a happy 49-year old who doesn’t smoke or sunbathe, and who gets Botox a couple of times a year. Yep, full disclosure.

photo by José Rodríguez Santalices, circa 1982

As the years have gone by, I’ve let go of the eyeliner, the brown hair and the multiple piercings, but I’ve also let go of the drama and the confusion and the self-doubt. Middle age is kind of great, especially if you decide to embrace it. (But the Botox? you ask. What can I say? I’m a woman of contradictions.)

from more magazine

There are so few women in the public eye willing to represent themselves in an authentic way. Meryl Streep comes to mind. And Jamie Lee Curtis. A few years back she went out of her way to debunk the myth of physical perfection we see every day in the media. She did a shoot for More magazine where she posed first in her underwear, unadorned and unretouched, and then after a glamorizing 3-hour session with wardrobe, hair and makeup pros. Read the whole piece, here. I adore her. These days she’s not even coloring her hair any more. (We used to see the same colorist at Fred Segal in LA!)

some girls

Have you been watching Girls? You can watch the entire first episode, here. It’s the new HBO show produced by Judd Apatow, starring—and directed by—25-year-old Lena Dunham. The daughter of two New York artists, she attended the exclusive Saint Ann’s School in Brooklyn before graduating from Oberlin and making a film, Tiny Furniture, that caused quite a stir on the indie circuit. It’s definitely worth watching. Lena’s work is so honest, raw and true, not to mention incredibly smart and funny. (It bears little comparison to Sex and the City, despite what people have been saying.) She comes across as totally unselfconscious, never shying away from unflattering shots or awkward situations. She’s real. And she gives me hope for the next generation of women coming up. They’re really letting themselves go.

A quick post today, just to share with you some new purchases that have brought a bit of freshness into my home. I love these kantha quilts! Each one is a unique combination of colors and patterns, and they can be used as bedspreads, to cover a couch, wall-hangings, even tablecloths. Kantha is a type of embroidery popular in Bangladesh and West Bengal, India, that originated from the way housewives mended old clothes by taking out a strand of thread from the colorful border of their saris and making simple designs with them. Old sari fabric is used to create these hand-stitched quilts, commonly known as nakshi kantha. The decorative running stitch is similar to Japanese sashiko quilting.

to dye for

I recently bought 5 of them, as I found the various prints and patterns so intoxicating. In truth, I am imagining them as bedspreads for the guestrooms in our someday-to-be-built house in Forestburgh. For now, one is disguising the large flat-screen TV and another will go in the barn, our summer sleeping quarters.

so revealing

Each one features at least two patterns, but they are often a random mix of various prints and palettes.

keeps me in stitches

The stitching gives them a wonderful handmade quality, and some even have patches where the fabric has been mended. This adds to their charm.

jarring effect

I popped into The Future Perfect on Great Jones Street the other week after having lunch here (divine kale sandwich) and fell in love with this wallpaper, which I am considering for the bedroom, and the work of potter (or “international clay boy and vesselist,” as he calls himself) Jered Nelson. I’m sure you can see it’s right up my Santa-Cruz-hippie-Sinophile-upstate-’70s-boho-chic alley. I transferred my soy sauce into this gorgeous little jar.

stirring pots

I also got this pitcher from him, and both pieces go rather well with a recent gift from my beloved friend, ceramist Mirena Kim. I’m keeping brown rice vinegar in her lovely aqua jar, a sweet spot of color in my earthy kitchen.

Remember “Singles,” Cameron Crowe’s 1992 film about young love and indie music in Seattle? No? I’m not surprised. It really wasn’t that good. But I’ll never forget how Bridget Fonda’s character, who was hopelessly in love with Matt Dillon’s indifferent rocker, waited in vain for him to say “Bless you” every time she sneezed. In my family we always said “Salud” whenever someone sneezed. To not say it was unthinkable. Like a jinx. What with spring allergies kicking in and everyone getting those changing-season colds, there’s lots of sneezing going on nowadays. If you’ve got a scratchy throat, runny nose or just a general malaise, try this therapeutic treat. It’s a sorbet—from Jeni’s, of course—packed with vitamin C, soothing honey and a fiery combination of ginger, bourbon and cayenne. It feels restorative and it will definitely clear a few things right up.

back to the rind

The recipe calls for fresh orange and lemon juices. I had Cara Cara and blood oranges on hand, and they imparted a gorgeous coral color to the final sorbet. You could definitely get creative with the citrus here.

so grate

My friend Tomo brought many treats back from her recent trip to Japan, including this delicate but strong bamboo brush, ideal for flicking ginger off your grater. I recently picked up some excellent ginger-related tips from this video, and now I always keep a piece in my freezer. Jeni’s recipe calls for powdered ginger, but I used fresh, finely grated. I’m sure this made my sorbet even spicier than hers. What can I say? I have Latin blood.

hot stuff

I use cayenne a lot in my cooking. Just a pinch adds that certain yo no se que (that’s Spanish for je ne sais quoi) to everything from scrambled eggs, salad dressing and granola to chocolate meringue cookies and tequila cocktails.

get the scoop

I didn’t have the liquid pectin called for and the sorbet seemed fine without it, but I’ve learned that Jeni’s recipes are perfectly calibrated to create the best textures, so pick some up if you can. There’s something irresistible about the way this sorbet goes down icy-cool yet spicy-hot. I prescribe it for whatever ails you.

I still haven’t found any ramps, but it has begun to rain at long last and this is a promising sign for foragers. The forecast includes some nights in the 20s this week, though, and with everything in full bud, I fear for some of the less hardy plants. It was a strange winter and is shaping up to be a very strange spring indeed. Still, for some people it’s ramp business as usual, as you can see by the bunches I brought home from the local farmers market. Here are some ideas for how to use them if you, too, have access. Green garlic or slim scallions would also work with these recipes.

rooting around

As more than one person has pointed out lately, ramps—like all wild edibles—must be harvested responsibly. They have that wonderful wild taste that Euell Gibbons talked about, not quite like anything else, and people have gone so nuts for the whole locavore thing, that there has been a lot of pillaging and plundering of ramp patches from here to West Virginia. We’ve actually planted a bunch in a wet corner of our backyard, so we’ll see what happens there…

clean start

You can roast or grill whole ramps to great effect, but you can also separate the bulbs from the greens and use them in different ways. Like other alliums, they have a sheer, sometimes slimy membrane that needs to be removed along with the root end.

put up or shut up

I love to pickle ramps. You can pour hot brine over raw ramps, if they’re slimmer than your pinkie; otherwise you should probably blanch them first. Here is my recipe.

what’s brine is yours

Pickled ramps are delicious with cheese, grilled meats and roast chicken, on sandwiches and in martinis. They brine is also excellent mixed with seltzer or cocktails, or instead of vinegar in salad dressings.

ends zone

The greens are quite good sauteed in olive oil and butter, mixed into a frittata or mashed potatoes. They can also be blanched and pureed into a soup, or mixed with butter as I did.

butter up

This surprisingly mild ramp butter was the perfect dip for peppery French breakfast radishes. I also stirred a little into soft-scrambled eggs, and slathered some on roasted fish.

green construction

With the rest of the ramp greens, I decided to try replicating a delicious preparation I had recently at the beautiful Japanese restaurant in Manhattan, En Brasserie. They served a fat stack of room-temperature, cooked ramped greens topped with tender ramp bulbs, in a pool of what I determined to be warijoyu, a combination of dashi, soy sauce and mirin that is traditionally served with steamed vegetables. What’s amazing is how silky the ramp greens become when poached. It was a bit of work to stack them up like this, but worth it for the presentation and the satisfaction of getting a nice compact mouthful.

en-ticing

I served the ramp greens with scallops also poached in the warijoyu, a drizzle of wasabi-spiked mayonnaise and a sprinkling of sansho pepper. Light and quietly rampageous.