until golden brown, 1 to 2 minutes. Turn them over, add ½ teaspoon or so of salt, and cook just until they’ve gone translucent at the stem and wilted at the tips, about 3 minutes more. It’s OK if a few leaves fall off. Transfer the halved heads to a plate. Add the sliced lettuce, along with another ½ teaspoon or so of salt, to the pot and cook just until wilted and just about all the liquid in the pot has evaporated, about 2 minutes. Transfer to a medium bowl.
Give the pot a wipe, reduce the heat to medium-low, and add the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil and the butter. When the butter froths, add the onions and the cooked garlic along with 1 teaspoon of salt, have a stir, and cover the pot. Cook, stirring occasionally to make sure everything’s happy, until the onions are soft and creamy but not coloured, about 20 minutes. Increase the heat to high, pour in the wine, and boil until it’s nearly all evaporated, about 5 minutes.
Add the peas and return the cooked sliced lettuce to the pot, stir well, then return the lettuce head halves, cut sides up, to the pot along with the stock and 1 teaspoon of salt. Bring the stock to a boil, then reduce the heat to maintain a steady simmer, prodding the lettuce heads and peas a bit so they’re nearly submerged. Cook just until the peas are soft but still pop in your mouth and the flavours marry, about 15 minutes, depending on the size of the peas.
Add the mint and a healthy glug of olive oil and have a stir. Add salt to taste. I like to let it cool a bit before I dig in.
RAMPS WITH FRIED EGGS
As simple a dish as I can imagine, this heap of sweet, garlicky ramps, bright from lemon and chilli, is something I’d eat every day – if only those stubborn ramps didn’t have such a short season. Yet that’s part of their magic, isn’t it? You can’t always have them.
I like to eat the whole lot on toast. I like it with home fries. Sometimes I’ll fry up a few strips of bacon first, until they’re still a little bit floppy, then cook the ramps in the fat. The eggs make the dish all the more satisfying, though you can leave them out and serve the ramps as a side dish. Whether you use chicken or duck eggs, which are fattier and have a bit more character, make sure your oil is nice and hot so that when you crack in those eggs, the whites pop and spit and develop gorgeous crispy edges.
If you can’t find ramps, new season leaf garlic makes a good substitute.
serves 4 as a main
350g ramps, trimmed and separated into white bulbs, purple stems, and green leaves (see note opposite)
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into chunks
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Maldon or another flaky sea salt
4 large duck or chicken eggs
2 dried pequín chillies, crumbled, or pinches of red pepper flakes
½ lemon
Halve any ramp bulbs thicker than a medium garlic clove. Cut the purple stems into 2.5-cm lengths and slice the leaves crosswise into thirds.
Combine the butter and oil in a 30cm nonstick frying pan and set it over medium heat. When the butter melts, froths and gurgles, add the stems and bulbs, increase the heat to medium-high, and cook until the bulbs turn translucent, 2 to 3 minutes.
Add a generous pinch of salt to the pan and then sprinkle the leaves on top of the bulbs and stems. Stir briefly and shake the pan to distribute the greens evenly and let it all sizzle away, stirring occasionally, until the bulbs have spots of golden brown, about 6 minutes more. Use a slotted spoon to transfer the ramps to a plate, leaving behind as much fat as you can.
With the pan still over medium-high heat, crack the eggs into the pan, trying your best to leave a little space between each one. Sprinkle the chillies and a generous pinch of salt over each egg. Cook until the whites have just set, about 1 minute. Spoon the ramp mixture here and there over the eggs but not over the yolks.
Cover the pan, turn off the heat, and let sit until the eggs are cooked to your liking, 1 to 2 minutes for nice runny yolks. Season with salt to taste and squeeze on just enough lemon juice to add brightness, not acidity. Eat straightaway.
Note: When they first appear in markets, ramp bulbs are so sweet and slender that you can add them all at once with the stems and leaves, though here I have you start the bulbs and stems a couple of minutes early, in case they’re a bit starchy, which can happen further into the season.
POT-ROASTED ARTICHOKES WITH WHITE WINE AND CAPERS
One of the reasons I go giddy about springtime is artichokes, particularly the small ones with tips closed tightly, like a flower at night. Some home cooks are reluctant to fill their totes with artichokes, as they’ll need to be turned – the barbed leaves plucked off and the other inedible bits trimmed away. I quite like the process. It’s meditative and satisfying once you get the hang of it. In this dish, the fleshy artichokes get browned and crispy tops and look like strange, beautiful roses. The acidity in the white wine cuts through the rich, dense veg and, along with the salty pops from the capers, highlights the artichokes’ unique herbaceousness.
serves 4 to 6 as a side
55ml extra-virgin olive oil
1.5kg baby artichokes (about 18), turned (see ‘Turning Artichokes’, here)
2 medium garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1½ teaspoons Maldon or another flaky sea salt
330ml dry white wine, such as Sauvignon Blanc
1 heaped tablespoon drained capers
A five-finger pinch of mint leaves, torn at the last minute
A pinch of delicate flat-leaf parsley sprigs
Heat the oil in a heavy pot (wide enough to hold the artichokes with room to spare) over medium-high heat until it just begins to smoke. Stand the artichokes cut sides down in the oil, wait a minute, then reduce the heat to medium-low, sprinkle in the garlic and salt, and cook, without stirring, just until the garlic turns golden and smells toasty, about 3 minutes.
Slowly pour in the wine, cover the pot, and cook, without stirring, at a vigorous simmer until you can insert a sharp knife into the thick artichoke bottoms with barely any resistance, about 25 minutes. Five minutes or so before they’re fully tender, remove the lid and scatter on the capers.
Raise the heat to medium-high, and bring the liquid to a boil. Cook until all the wine has evaporated (the bubbling sound will become a sizzle), about 3 minutes. Add the mint and parsley and keep cooking the artichokes in the oil (it’s OK if a few of them tip over), until
