the breeze barely murmurs but the feeling is all-consuming. a hint of green budding fat on the ends of trees, and the sun finds them now with longer arms. not all days occupy equal simplicity, but to utter the words ‘now it is spring’ seems to ease any residual tension that coincides with life. the birds collect in the ceiling of the garden department and sing poetic sermons. a warm evening spent shoveling in the light of the rising moon uncovers deeply rooted earthworms, cycling through the soil with repetition and grace. the surrounding signs are abundant. the determination for what exists beneath to emerge is evident. we stir from our snowy blanket one morning and find we are surrounded by perseverance.
still, i am ever cautious in this tender period of initial change. our corner of the midwest seems to continually nurse a chaotic legacy of unpredictable weather – and that one warm evening turns effortlessly into a dense and heavy spring blizzard. do you share my fate where you are, or is your spring defined romantically and quintessentially by emergent green vines and blue skies? i am comprised of a combination of breath holding, hand holding, curiosity, and excitement. one more snow, two more snows, ice-bridled wind and a stubborn last frost date still won’t discourage. the ground is flexible and supple. there is something very giving of the earth this time of year – the womb is soft and velveteen, and we are in it.
- juice of 2 lemons, separate
- 1 lb young artichoke
- 2 cups of 1-2 day old rustic bread, cubed
- 2 tbl olive oil, separate
- 4 cups young pea shoots
- 4 oz spring lettuce (arugula works here too)
- hand of parsley
- hand of dill
- salt and pepper
- prepare a bath in a large bowl of cool water, combined with the juice of one lemon. working swiftly with one artichoke at a time, remove tough outer leaves until the first tender layer is revealed. trim an inch from the top, as well the stem if needed. slice lengthwise, and then again, thinly and into the bowl of lemon juice (this is to work against discoloration). repeat until all artichokes are prepared and sliced.
- preheat oven to 375 degrees. toss cubed bread with 1 tbl olive oil, salt and pepper and splay on a baking sheet. bake briefly, until toasted but still soft, about 10 minutes.
- in a large bowl combine pea shoots, spring lettuce, parsley and dill. drain artichoke and pat dry with paper towels or with use of a salad spinner. add artichokes to bowl along with toasted bread.
- combine the remaining lemon juice with the remaining olive oil, along with salt and pepper to taste. toss dressing with salad enjoy.
Another beautiful and evocative post, Danielle. The weather is very fickle in Montreal at this time of year – but there is still little hope of young artichokes or pea shoots. Though stubborn rumours declare the presence of the first snowdrops somewhere in the city, I refuse to herald the coming of spring and hold on to my winter mood. That way, you can’t get too disappointed when you step outside and it’s -7C!
Ksenia – I concur on the matter of erratic weather. Our region seems to sustain a wild heart, seemingly forever untamed. In the middle of the summer we get hail, so it’s apparent nature will do what she pleases! – – I am very much in love with this crazy transitional period, though. Vibrant warm days coupled with bursts of snow – it keeps us on our feet. xo
Love the interplay of all the leaves. It’s the earliest start of spring I’ve seen here in such a long time but I still can’t help but hold my breath that the clouds might shake down more snow. I never quite exhale till sometime in May.
Jean, thank you so. It is a very early spring for us as well – of which I wonder if it is the beginning of many. Your date of exhalation in May is that of my own – it is then we can truly count on the sun. xo
This salad is so gorgeous, and just sings of spring Danielle! I love the entry of warmer days with those crisp, cool mornings – we are heading into the other end of it in Autumn at the moment – but where you have peas, asparagus and strawberries, we have beetroot, feijoas, pears and passionfruit! Love the simplicity of your photos lately too, the lighting is stunning and really highlights the natural beauty of fresh produce.
Claudia, thank you so much for your kind words. I adore your photography, and I’m working slowly behind the scenes to gain a better relationship with mine. – – I love the juxtaposition between our hemispheres – it is a year round celebration this way. (: xo
absolutely beautiful words and an equally beautiful salad.
thank you so dearly andrea, and for your awesome presence. xo
The birds tell me Spring is coming … the Robins start singing their melodious song before the sun rises, then they sing me to sleep when evening is longer. White Crowned Sparrows fill in, the Service Berries bloom and the Farmers Market is back… and I know, Spring is here. No snow for us this year.. a first of many, but the mountains in the distance are covered in a blanket of white. I’m longing for young artichoke and pea shoots! Our first farmers market is next weekend and I’m hopeful there may be some there. Fabulous, welcoming Spring salad my dear!
Traci, your words always fill me with such brightness – as well your passion for birds. They are making many appearances around here right now, although intermittently confused with the spontaneous weather! But to be able to wake to the robins on the roof brings me an instant smile. Thank you for your lovely presence and I wish you a beautiful first market this season! xo
Oh yes, it is spring. It feels so good to live through the season changes.
This salad looks incredible Danielle. I love pea shoots. I love how you paired them with artichokes. So simple yet so gorgeous.
XOXO
Thank you so dearly Aysegul! The beginnings of spring are such a great time of excitement for me – it’s hard for my heart not to jump at any sign I can hold onto. Pea shoots are definitely one of my favorite spring delights. xoxo
Beautiful post and photos! It still feels very wintery here in the Peaks, there’s a real bite to the air. xx
Thank you Amy! I’m afraid our weather is going to do what it wants here (which means snow ) – but I have confidence that we’ll get something steadier in the coming weeks. (: