A couple of weekends ago at the Little Italy Mercato, as I was peacefully sorting through ears of sweet corn, I heard a woman scream, "Oh, my God! I can't believe it!"
Curious, I followed the voice, and noticed a woman a few tables ahead with her arms waving wildly in the air. She was talking rapidly and loudly and began jumping as if she were standing on hot coals.
"Oh, my God! I haven't seen that since I lived in Italy," she exclaimed.
What? What hadn't she seen since she lived in Italy? Gargantuan globe artichokes? We have those in San Diego. Mint green Vespas? Got 'em. A hot Italian guy? We have many of them, especially at Sogno di Vino and Bencotto in Little Italy. You're welcome, ladies.
Turns out what thrilled her was finding agretti, a springtime Mediterranean succulent, or water-retaining plant. With its verdant color and feathery texture, agretti looks like a cross between fennel fronds, rosemary, and grass.

How can anyone resist tart and tiny kumquats, sitting so cute and bright in the produce department at the grocery store? They just look happy. I buy them every year as soon as they make their first seasonal appearance. I never have a plan for them when I set them in my basket, but it doesn’t matter. I buy the organic kumquats, rinse them well and, after I’ve cut the stem ends off, I pop them into my mouth one after the other, as if they were orange jelly beans.
Pesto isn't just for basil, though traditionally that's what pesto is made of. The word pesto itself means "pounded" in Italian. Famous in Genoa, the pesto of basil, pine nuts, Parmesan and olive oil is a delicious sauce on pasta. But many herbs and/or greens can take the place of basil to create a flavorful pesto. In the past I've made it with parsley, cilantro and even ramp greens. This time I've made a pesto from radish greens.
These mini mint puddings sprout to life with their mint seedling growing out the top and ground-cookie dirt sprinkled on the surface.
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.