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Fresh Vegetable Pasta Salad — Spring From the Fence Row to the Table

The garden is calling. I can hear it from the kitchen window — the soil warming, the perennials pushing up, the rhubarb already showing its red knuckles along the south side of the barn. Every spring I tell myself I'll scale back. Fewer tomatoes. Fewer beans. A sensible garden for two people and a dog. And every spring I plant as though I'm feeding a battalion, because the garden doesn't know how to be small and neither do I.

I turned the soil on Monday. The fork went in easier than last year — a mild winter helps, loosens the frost's grip. My leg complained, as it does, and I told it what I always tell it: we're not done yet. The shrapnel doesn't argue. It just aches, which is its way of participating in the conversation.

I started the seedlings indoors — tomatoes, peppers, basil. Helen's egg carton system, which I've adopted now that she's home more and can supervise my technique. She has opinions about soil depth. She has opinions about watering frequency. She has opinions about the angle of light through the kitchen window. I follow her opinions because they're right, and also because arguing with Helen about seedlings is like arguing with the weather about rain: you're not going to win, and you're going to get wet trying.

For the blog this week I wrote about asparagus. Wild asparagus, technically — the thin spears that grow along the fence rows and field edges of Vermont every April, if you know where to look. I know where to look. My father showed me when I was ten, and I've been picking asparagus from the same spots for fifty-four years. Some of those spots are on our property. Some are on land that's changed hands three times. The asparagus doesn't care about property lines. It grows where it grows.

I blanched the asparagus for thirty seconds in boiling water, then plunged it in ice water, then sautéed it in butter with a pinch of salt and a squeeze of lemon. That's the whole recipe. Asparagus doesn't need help. It needs not to be overcooked. It needs three minutes of attention and the self-discipline to leave it alone after that. Most food is like this. Most people are like this. Pay attention. Don't overdo it. Let the thing be what it is.

Spring smells like dirt and rain and possibility. Frost rolled in the garden bed I just turned, because he's a dog and fresh dirt is irresistible. I didn't yell. Much.

The asparagus went fast — a handful of spears, thirty seconds in the pot, done. But with the garden just waking up and the whole season stretching out ahead of me, I wanted something that could hold more of it: the radishes coming in, the peas not far behind, the herbs already pushing through the cold frame. This Fresh Vegetable Pasta Salad is the kind of dish I reach for every April, when the impulse is to pile everything bright and new into one bowl and call it dinner. It’s simple enough to let the vegetables speak, and forgiving enough that you can swap in whatever the fence row or the garden gives you that week.

Fresh Vegetable Pasta Salad

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 12 oz rotini or penne pasta
  • 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
  • 1 cup cucumber, diced
  • 1 cup fresh asparagus, cut into 1-inch pieces, blanched 30 seconds
  • 1/2 cup red bell pepper, diced
  • 1/2 cup yellow bell pepper, diced
  • 1/3 cup red onion, thinly sliced
  • 1/2 cup black olives, sliced
  • 1/3 cup fresh parsley, chopped
  • 3 tablespoons olive oil
  • 3 tablespoons red wine vinegar
  • 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
  • 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
  • 1 teaspoon honey
  • 1 clove garlic, minced
  • 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
  • Salt and black pepper to taste

Instructions

  1. Cook the pasta. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to package directions until al dente. Drain, rinse under cold water, and set aside to cool completely.
  2. Blanch the asparagus. In the same pot of boiling water, cook asparagus pieces for 30 seconds. Immediately plunge into a bowl of ice water to stop cooking, then drain and pat dry.
  3. Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together olive oil, red wine vinegar, lemon juice, Dijon mustard, honey, garlic, oregano, salt, and pepper until emulsified.
  4. Combine the salad. In a large bowl, toss the cooled pasta with cherry tomatoes, cucumber, asparagus, red and yellow bell pepper, red onion, olives, and parsley.
  5. Dress and rest. Pour the dressing over the salad and toss well to coat. Taste and adjust salt and pepper. Cover and refrigerate for at least 15 minutes before serving to let the flavors come together.
  6. Serve. Toss once more before serving. Best eaten the day it’s made, though it keeps well covered in the refrigerator for up to two days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 310 | Protein: 9g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 49g | Fiber: 4g | Sodium: 210mg

Walter Bergstrom
About the cook who shared this
Walter Bergstrom
Week 54 of Walter’s 30-year story · Burlington, Vermont
Walt is a seventy-three-year-old retired high school history teacher from Burlington, Vermont — a Vietnam veteran, a widower, and a grandfather of five who cooks New England comfort food in the same kitchen where his wife Margaret made bread every Saturday for forty years. He lost Margaret to a stroke in 2021, and now he bakes her bread himself, not because he's good at it but because the smell fills the house and for an hour she's still there.

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