Buckets of rain and buckets of leafy green things—that’s the kind of April we’re having so far. I’ve been doing this long enough to know that when the green stuff is abundant, it can feel intimidating, especially when those vegetables fall into the “specialty” category. To quote Kelly, they taste “divine,” but we only get a short seasonal window to work with them every year. And some weeks, those plants are loaded. This is one of those weeks. Yes, things like Flowering Raab and Purple Sprouting Broccoli are a delicacy, and yes, you can comb through your cookbooks and search the web far and wide to dig up specific recipes for preparing specific green vegetables in very specific ways if that suits you. In spite of how much I love to cook and research, the long work days of Spring rarely allow me to tap into that level of nuance, so Mark and I have learned to keep it simple and enjoy these gorgeous gourmet greens without overthinking it. Since we’ve got so many leafy green and purple things on the harvest list this week, I figured this might be a helpful week to reprise a few ideas and helpful hints from our farm by way of our family’s kitchen. Here’s what happens with greens most frequently in our house these days:

Comedian Atsuko Okatsuka has this great joke where she talks about standing in random parts of her apartment to fully appreciate them, solely because she pays rent for them.  I think about that bit quite often, as I walk out into the field to clear my mind or get into it, depending on what the situation calls for.  And just the other day, it dawned on me that I have a very favorite spot on the farm, a favorite vantage point that without fail makes the three mortgages we pay to farm here seem worthwhile.  You might guess that it is the one with the majestic mountain view that inspires cars to pull over onto the non-existing shoulder along River Road to grab photos.  But you'd be wrong.  It is practically a 180 degree, about face, from that view.  It is the view you see above, at the corner of intersecting pathways that face westward.  To the left, there's not much more than fill dirt from when they built the levee and changed the course of the river.  But to the right, I feel like I can see everything I want to, a snapshot of how this place grows and changes over the months, seasons and even years.  Crops rotate, appearing in layered perspective. And you won't find a better place to catch a sunset.  This weekend, as I was taking my farm loop, I couldn't help but be taken by the appeal of that patch of recently worked soil. Everything about it--the texture, the aroma, the drama!  Lupa loves to pace up and down the length of those beds, practically disappearing into the furrows on those short little legs of hers.  Within a matter of weeks, these rows will be fully planted and trellised.  In the background, you can spot the overwintered Leeks that are getting pulled tomorrow, and behind them, a lush green stand of cover crop that will soon be worked into our soil.  In short, it encapsulated what early Spring is like--acres of potential, plenty of work at hand, but for the meantime, reliance on overwintered crops for sustenance during these "Hunger Gap" months.