A couple of weeks ago I experienced a revelation: I tasted my first pea shoot.

I was at the Little Italy Mercato buying Asian produce from The Vangs, also known as Mr. and Mrs. Green. After purchasing Thai basil, fresh ginger and sugar snap peas, I asked, "What do pea shoots taste like?"

She replied, with no sarcasm, "Peas."

She tore a small piece off one of the leaves and handed it to me. I bit into it and suddenly the sun broke through the clouds, harp music began playing, and I floated ever so slightly off of the pavement.

OK, that's not exactly what happened. There was no harp music. It was Spanish music being played by a local band.

During the season of Lent, an herbaceous perennial sends up its hearty bells of florets on sturdy stems – bridging the gap between winter and spring.

As with the season of Lent itself – a wintry season of contemplation, spiritual focus, and petition - these symbols of new life out of the deathlike state of winter are emblems of the newness of spring, rebirth, and rejuvenation.

Helleborus is the genus name for Lenten Roses to which these perennials are often referred as Hellebores. Hellebores range from garnet to ruby, lilac to lavender, and to the purest white. Once the flowers begin to fade, the petals become chartreuse and lime green, lasting for months on their stems and for days in arrangements. Some of the flowers are the simplest, five petal blossoms you’ll ever see, while others are compound arrays of florets with freckles or dark nectaries complemented by bright sepals.

Leathery leaves, pretty and green, make for a delightful texture in the garden. The dark green of the Christmas Rose, Helleborus niger, is quite stunning around Christmas time and into January. The pure white flowers dangling above the glossy greenery are beautiful sentiments for the Christmas Holidays. From there, cultivars and cross species of Helleborus orientalis will begin to emerge and bloom through the winter and especially during Lent…quite an appropriate name, eh? From bloom time to color to texture, I’m sure you’ll be able to find a Hellebore to suit your garden’s fancy.

I love unique spring vegetables—it's the reason why I write about such things like ramps and fiddleheads so much. For me there's nothing better than combining my favorites in one recipe to celebrate the spring season. Ramps on their own would make a particularly good soup. But looking for a contrasting flavor to pair it with, I thought of sorrel. With its tart and citrusy flavor, the leafy green is a perfect foil for pungent and oniony ramps.

This season the weather hasn't really brought us much of a warm spring just yet. Instead we've gotten endless chilly days, but luckily those days present us with the perfect opportunity to eat spring soups. Rich flavored, creamy soups are the best way to soothe and satisfy when you need uplift on a cold day. And say if suddenly the weather turns for the better, these types of soups are also great chilled on a warm day.

We bought our house in Umbria ten years ago this past summer.

A couple of months after the sale was completed the former owners, Bruno and Mayes, came over for lunch. And as the lunch lingered, as lunches in Umbria do, Bruno interrupted himself in mid-lecture on the glories of Roman pasta.

“Asparagi,” he said calmly. He got up from his chair, crossed over to the wall of our ancient wood-burning oven and snapped off a pencil-thin spear of wild asparagus that was hiding in and among the other grasses.

“It’s all over the place,” he said. “April is the time. You’ll see hundreds of contadini in the fields and by the side of the road, harvesting them. Here, taste.”

I bit off the end of the slender stalk and chewed on it a bit. It was raw, of course, and a little stringy but the taste fairly attacked me with its vibrancy. Wild asparagus is way wilder than tame asparagus.

“Just imagine,” I thought, “how it’ll make my pee smell.”

With that noble scientific quest in mind, I immediately began to search for more. I looked all around the forno, where Bruno found his and then up the hill toward the olive trees, but there were no more spears to be found.