By Late April and the farm is coming fully alive. The lilacs along the north fence are in full leaf, two weeks from blooming. The apple trees are in blossom — the Macintosh and the Cortlands both, white flowers against a blue sky, the particular beauty that means spring has fully committed. I walked the property on Wednesday evening in the late light and felt, not for the first time but with a freshness that doesn't diminish with repetition, the good fortune of having this place and the health to maintain it.
I've been answering reader mail from the roast chicken post for a month now and I'm still not done. The messages keep coming, slower now but steady. Some of them have turned into correspondence — real exchanges, letters or long emails, with people I know now by name and circumstance. A woman in Edinburgh whose husband died in November. A retired teacher in Ohio who learned to cook at sixty-eight after his wife became too ill. Bill from Maine, of course, who sent me a note this week that said: you described my life to me better than I could describe it myself.
The tomato transplants are in the cold frames now, growing in the protected warmth of that transitional space between the house and the open ground. Another three weeks to the last frost date. I check them every morning. They're doing well. The Brandywines from the saved seed are strong and stocky, which means good root development, which means they'll take transplanting well.
Made a spring tart this week — puff pastry, which I've been working on, with asparagus and ricotta and lemon and fresh herbs. The kind of dish that belongs specifically to the brief April window when asparagus is available and the appetite for rich winter food is receding. I ate it with a green salad and a glass of something cold and it was entirely right for the evening.
The tart I described above — the puff pastry with asparagus and ricotta and lemon — needed something beside it that could hold its own without competing, something cold and a little sharp to push back against the richness of the pastry. The green salad I made that evening was this one: arugula, orange, a clean vinaigrette, done in the time it took the tart to cool. If you’re making that April window meal for yourself, this is what goes alongside it.
Vibrant Orange & Arugula Salad
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 4
Ingredients
- 5 oz baby arugula (about 5 packed cups)
- 2 navel oranges, peeled and segmented (or sliced into rounds)
- 1/4 small red onion, very thinly sliced
- 1/3 cup shaved or shredded Parmesan
- 1/4 cup toasted walnuts or sliced almonds
- 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
- 1 1/2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- 1 teaspoon honey
- 1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard
- Salt and freshly cracked black pepper, to taste
Instructions
- Make the dressing. In a small bowl or jar, whisk together the olive oil, lemon juice, honey, and Dijon mustard until emulsified. Season with salt and pepper and set aside.
- Prep the oranges. Using a sharp knife, cut away the peel and pith from the oranges. Segment them by cutting between the membranes, or slice into thin rounds. Pat gently with a paper towel to remove excess juice.
- Assemble the salad. Place the arugula in a large wide bowl. Scatter the orange segments, red onion, and toasted nuts over the top.
- Dress and finish. Drizzle the vinaigrette over the salad and toss gently — arugula bruises easily, so use a light hand. Top with shaved Parmesan and a few extra cracks of black pepper. Serve immediately.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 185 | Protein: 5g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 12g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 160mg