This is the first of a periodic series by Miriam Rubin, a cookbook author and freelance food writer who tends her large kitchen garden in Greene County.
It snowed in our corner of Greene County on April 28. Snow coated cars and pine trees and broke branches from lilac bushes that were in full fragrant bloom.
Happily, spring has returned. The sun is strong, and a light breeze scattered purple wisteria petals about like a tiny flower girl. Time to work in the garden.
Last week after the snow, I harvested some French Breakfast radishes, planted in early April. Always first to come up, they're completely rewarding, fresh and crisp. They're still small, with narrow shoulders pushing up through the soil, which means they're ready to pluck. You can let them grow larger, but I get impatient for the first bite of real vegetables from the garden.
Radishes were my first gardening experience. When I was a youngster in Detroit, I planted them in the alley. These days I've got a bigger plot to plant, and soon there'll be radishes for everyone, but now I'm marveling at these slender red roots with flashy white tips.
Always experimenting with varieties, I've tucked a few more seeds into a row next to tiny leaves that someday will become beets. I'm trying Cook's Garden custom radish mix and Pink Beauties. But French breakfasts are a steady favorite, and, even when large, they aren't "hot."
When the radishes arrive, I think salad! Since there's homegrown asparagus in my fridge, I'm making one of spring's great combos.
We don't grow asparagus because our neighbor does. When May 1 nears, a bunch of friends are always asking the same questions: Is the asparagus up, and can we get some?
Asparagus is a perennial vegetable, meaning it comes back every year. We eat the green shoots (spears) that grow straight up out of the ground.
Above ground, they are all green. The white ends of commercial asparagus spears grow underground. After harvest, the spears are left to grow a hedge of tall soft ferns providing nutrients for the roots.
I cut asparagus flush to the ground with scissors; others use a knife or snap spears where they break easily, as before cooking. Thin or thick, they all taste as green as an idealized (not snowy) spring.
To dress my spring salad, I whisked olive oil, Dijon mustard, mild white wine vinegar (not distilled white) and chives, another first plant of spring. The chives are developing small purple flower heads. Most of these I'll trim so the stems don't get tough and to prevent the plant from going to seed, but the flowers are pretty, resembling cornflowers.
You can make chive-flower vinegar by steeping the blossoms in white (distilled or wine) vinegar for several days until the color changes to a wild violet. Strain and store in a clean bottle. If I had some, I'd use it for this salad.
PG TESTED
For the dressing
For the salad
In salad bowl, with small whisk or fork, blend oil, vinegar, mustard, salt and pepper. Stir in chives.
Bring medium skillet filled with 1/2-inch water to a boil over high heat. Add pinch of salt and asparagus. Cook until crisp-tender and bright green, 4 to 5 minutes. Drain in colander and rinse briefly under cold running water. Shake off water.
Mix radishes, onion and asparagus with dressing. Let stand 10 to 20 minutes. Put greens on top and toss before serving. Taste, adding a splash more vinegar, if you like.
Makes 4 servings.
-- Miriam Rubin
