Spring

Los Angeles is shedding its winter coat, the birds are singing; Spring has boinged in like Zebedee. The farmers markets are jam-packed with citrus, strawberries, golden beets and asparagus.

I got four bunches of gorgeous, small, round radishes for $2, two bunches of sweet peas for $4 and tiny beets in every shade of pink and gold. 

Fifteen old friends came to supper last night, a Clein + Feldman reunion.  It was, of course, just as if twenty years hadn't gone by: everyone looked the same, sounded the same, but maybe wiser, greeting each other as if we'd been in the office together just yesterday.

I know there are other things to do with rapini but I am stuck in a happy rut. I always eat it exactly the same way. Rapini also called broccoli rabe looks like a leafy miniature broccoli and has a slight bitterness to it that marries well with the richness of Italian sausage. Toss that combination with a little onion, garlic, chili flakes and pasta and you're in business.

Broccoli rabe or rapini was something I ate in Italy, there it was blanched and then sauted in olive oil with garlic. Only in Italy it was called broccoli rape pronounced "rah-pay". But I imagine the "rape" name has not helped it much in the popularity department in the English speaking world. If you look it up in the dictionary it turns out to have even more names – rapa, raab, rappone (for big bunches I guess) Italian turnip, taitcat and turnip broccoli. In Italian rapa means turnip and broccoli means broccoli.

As for the identity crisis – am I a turnip or am I broccoli? It is a relative of the turnip and yet looks more like broccoli. As far as the names goes, I think I'll stick with rapini.

It's that time of the year: ramp season! These wild leeks, as they are known, are starting to become available at the farmers' markets. Just last Friday on my visit to the the Union Square Greenmarket, Berried Treasures was selling bags upon bags full of ramps. I'm sure they were all bought up by restaurants that day. But I myself bought a few bunches as I usually do and immediately started thinking of all the recipe possibilities.

Even with all the options, my go-to dish for ramps is always pasta. I love the flavor of the bulbs when they caramelize from sautéing and the greens turn slightly sweet after they have wilted. Tossed with pasta it's as simple and satisfying as it gets. You barely need anything else to make the dish shine because the ramps do all the shining.

For this recipe I like a little heat in the form of chile flakes and a bit of crunch from breadcrumbs. Some lemon juice adds a nice tang and crumbled Parmesan adds touches of saltiness throughout. Try this dish for a lovely spring dinner—add a glass of white wine and you're all set.

Side dishes are the key to making every meal a hit. They are essentially the glue that holds dinner 
together. Roasted asparagus is by far Spring's quintessential veggie and this mustard-dill vinaigrette 
just takes it up a notch! Now, having said that, asparagus can be the quintessential enemy of wine.



This vegetable is a member of the lily family and contains the sulfurous amino acid known as 
methionine. This chemical compound is the culprit that causes the notorious "asparagus-pee" effect 
known to many who can smell it, not everyone can. Lucky them.

When methionine is coupled with asparagus' already green and grassy flavors, it can make wine 
taste dank, metallic, thin and even bitter. Overall, it's not good.

The only way to work against this collision of taste buds is to prepare the asparagus a certain way or 
drink the right wine varietal with this wonderful Spring vegetable.