It figures that all the innate rebelliousness that I work my way through every day also leaks into the kitchen, but I really didn’t realize that until this dinner. When I picked up a couple of bundles of wild ramps this morning, I was thinking “Proof of spring! Besides, I really should try these now that I live in New York.” But as I cooked them (recipe here) I realized that I had encountered made them once before when they came in the infamous CSA Boxes of 2007. Ramps showing up then meant “What the hell do I do with these?” and a quiche that neither of us liked. Ramps in the Farmer’s Market now means “Oh hey, I’ll take a couple bundles of those and figure out what to do with them later.” I plated them up with homemade shake-n-bake chicken and we both loved it. We’re in a slightly different place culinarily and philosophically, but it was also important that we chose to pick them up and take them home. So, self: duly noted.