The Age of Asparagus
It’s that time of the season, folks. Time for the rain to pummel, and the wind to blow, and the tender, green stalks of asparagus to do their glorious thing. This is the dawning of the Age of Asparagus. Oh yes I did.
We hosted a baby shower Saturday for our friends Kristina and Ian, who are expecting a stork delivery sometime around the Fourth of July. Although my plans for a sunny spring shower on our patio were dashed (soaked?) by the rain, nonetheless, it was a wonderful time. The guests each brought a spring-focused dish to share. Naturally, asparagus was in attendance, making cameos in a scrumptious shallot and ricotta tart my friend Jenny made, as well as in a pasta salad riddled with asparagus, peas, feta, chicken, and herbs that Glenn whipped up. Rich and Jen made ramps empanadas and two types of foccacia, a savory ramp & bacon and a sweet rhubarb.
There was also a lovely fruit salad, a delectable pasta salad with broccoli and grapes, some deftly sautéed bok choy with shiitake mushrooms and ginger, a beautiful berry and nut platter, and a tasty corn salad. I made these cupcakes (Ian is grain-free and these were a perfect fit for his dietary needs, not to mention an ideal marriage of sweet and tasty). Their nursery is decorated with a hot air balloon theme, owing to their home lying in the path of a local hot air balloon business. With that in mind, I found some paper lanterns online as well as some handmade paper hot air balloon cupcake toppers from Etsy. The day was filled with silly games, tasty eats, and loads of love. Huxley had so much fun, and played so hard, for so long, that he completely collapsed in his p.j.’s in his tiny rocking chair.
Yesterday, all plans I had for an outdoor foraging class and chat were quickly laid to rest by the intense deluge that pounded the area for over 24 hours. I think every creek in the area turned into a river, including those that flank both sides of our house (thankfully we live on a knob, so all water flows down and away from us), and every river flooded its banks. It was crazy. Huge wind gusts, rain that found the one loose shingle on the roof and shimmed down into the ceiling in Huxley’s room (the roofer just repaired it and left about 30 minutes ago), and the need for a Cinco de Mayo fire in the wood stove, all of that happened yesterday.
Our friends Rob and Karie came over, braving the rain, equipped with their mini espresso makers and the fixins required to make us maple lattes. Glenn made his trademark Strata Frittata, a double layer of crepe-like sheets of omelets, riddled with wine-braised asparagus (I told you it’s the Age!) and cojita cheese on top, and smoked salmon, blue cheese, capers, and Herbs de Provence on bottom. Have mercy. We sipped our lattes, enjoyed some mimosas, noshed on the frittata, listened to the rain, and caught up with each other over a long, lazy, lingering brunch. Just like I like it.
So, while things didn’t go quite according to my plans this weekend, they certainly surpassed my expectations. If we can’t learn to bend in the breeze and enjoy the rain for the healing, restorative balm that it truly is, then we’ll always be swimming upstream. As for me, I’d rather ride the current and see where it takes me.
Here’s hoping the week ahead is filled with health, happiness, and harmony, for you and yours, from me and mine.