Dear readers, you'll have to forgive me if I wax poetic, even a little sentimental, because I have a terminal case of spring fever. "Terminal" meaning that I know winter will end, and I truly want to say goodbye to it. This means that in spite of April flurries, spring has sprung within me ... and for good reasons.
The poet E. E. Cummings (you'll often see his name and poetry with irregular punctuation and capitalization) celebrated spring, his favorite subject, more than any other poet, including Wordsworth and his daffodils. Cummings begins, "O sweet spontaneous earth ..." and after some lines in which many people ask questions of earth, earth answers: "thou answerest them only with spring) -- (Cumming's punctuation and spelling.)
So, in a poetic moment, I feel earth spontaneously giving up spring to me. Oh, I have other reasons, too -- like a soup recipe and a love letter from a man in Interlochen.
No, no, I am not the object of his affection. This sweet man, Art Miner, writes that he is a He-Who-Must-Be-Fed, and writes to tell me about his "heaven, his partner, who loves to cook and is a great cook." He continues, "My only complaint is that I can't eat all of the great meals before she starts cooking again." Surely this is proof that 1) Mr. Miner loves this woman. 2) He's got spring fever, too, and 3) His partner loves him dearly; she cooks for him.
The recipe I mention above is for Spinach Lentil Soup, and you can find the recipe at www.Allrecipes.com. I think it's a spring soup. It has young spring greens and dirt-colored legumes. I'm listing the ingredients, but not including the recipe because most of you know how to make soup. (Put ingredients into liquids and simmer until done, or storybook Stone Soup: Start with a stone in the pot with water and beg ingredients from your neighbors.) I am teasing you, I suppose -- giving no recipe, but I am also tempting you to use your creativity.
Also, I am intrigued that, while the original recipe is pretty good, an amazing number of cooks tweaked it, making substitutes like olive oil for vegetable oil, adding things like garlic and more red pepper flakes, using regular kielbasa instead of turkey kielbasas, etc.
Here is the list of ingredients, tweaked a bit: white or brown rice, water, kielbasa (chopped), an onion, a carrot, crushed red pepper flakes (to taste), chicken broth, a cup of dry lentils and a bag of spinach. You might use the list and create your personal twist, but, again, the complete recipe is at www.Allrecipes.com.
I am wandering like a spring robin looking for a nesting place through this column, but OK, today's poetic thought: My nest is earth. As Cummings sees it, I see it. Nothing is more beautiful than the earth in spring. I'm giddy in spring. For instance, He-Who-Must-Be-Fed brought home two huge bags of topsoil, and hefted one right to the kitchen. Without thinking about it, I ripped the bag open and put my nose into it and inhaled. Ah, spring. That potting soil, that dirt, those rotted leaves and twigs and worm casings and heaven only knows what, smelled wonderful, in a word, its fragrance was "earthy." I could envision seeds yearning to dive into it, crack open and grow.
Today is Thomas Jefferson's 266th birthday, significant here in the food pages. Jefferson was a gourmand, a first-degree food lover, an adventurous diner, an explorer in the garden -- and a handsome fellow to boot. "I am an Epicurean," he wrote to a friend, and he had just returned from Europe bringing Parmesan cheese, boned anchovies, tarragon vinegar, Dijon mustard and a pipe, all things, except the pipe, new to America. He left an astounding legacy to the culinary world. John Adams writes, "Our nation should not, and has not, forgotten the man who faced life with that grace and spirit." No, we haven't forgotten. We remember Thomas Jefferson today, and happy spring to all.
Thomas Jefferson's Monticello Dressing
1 small clove of garlic (crushed)
1 t. salt
1/2 t. white pepper
1/3 c. olive oil
1/3 c. sesame oil
1/3 c. tarragon or wine vinegar
Combine all ingredients in a covered jar and shake well before pouring over salad.
-- American Heritage Cookbook
Sally Ketchum is a northern Michigan journalist, cook and gardener. Just now, ramps, wild leeks, are ... well, rampant in the area around her home. She can be reached at ketchum1985@gmail. For more of Sally's In The Kitchen columns, log on to record-eagle.com/sallyketchum.
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