Spring Herbs

Spring Herbs

I’ve written before about the egg-scallion-tortilla thing I love for breakfast — all winter I have to make do with store scallions. They’re fine. Sometimes I add my own frozen blanched greens. But it’s hard — one of the things I hate most about winter.

But now it’s spring! And although it’s been a long time coming, there are finally things coming up in the garden. This morning, my breakfast omelette/tortilla contained a green onion (from the garden), a handful of wild arugula, a big sprig of lovage, some parsley and a handful of chives.

This is the thing about having a garden that I love — this isn’t one of those recipes that would make any sense if you found it in a cookbook — who would buy that collection of things? And lovage? where does one even get lovage if you aren’t growing it yourself? I’d never had lovage before — it’s slightly odd, kind of like a leafy celery. The wild arugula is another surprise — it’s terrific as a ground cover — grows like wild and self sows.

It’s my favorite thing about the garden — wandering outside with my scissors, looking to see what might be yummy …

One thought on “Spring Herbs

  1. I have just discovered your blog through Ruhlman and I have begun and the beginning reading and enjoying and envying and dreaming about your life and how you have chosen to live it. Thank you for sharing.

    About a year ago I learned how to make corn tortillas with a tortilla press and masa bought in the grocery store. I make a similar breakfast for myself, but I use jalapenos, cilantro, queso fresco and a squeeze of fresh lime with the egg. Breakfast of champions! I agree!

    One of the best and most memorable meals I have ever had was a very long time ago while visiting in Tecolutla Mexico (in Vera Cruz). I was with a group of gringos being shown a coconut plantation owned by the local mayor, bar-owner, business man, etc. whom we had met in his bar on our first visit to the tiny town. We had been drinking fresh green coconuts chopped from a tree by the caretaker, spiked with a little gin and we were all hungry. The caretaker took us to his home, a dirt floored hut in the middle of this beautiful coconut plantation and his wife fed us the simplest of meals, but I will never forget the taste of those scrambled eggs and fresh tortillas, queso fresco, black beans, with tiny whole fried fish and the thickest blackest sweetest coffee I’ve ever had. Heaven on Earth. That “tortilla” thing is universal, huh?

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