Oh, it's spring and I just can't get enough wild asparagus. See that sweet slender thing offering itself up?
Last Sunday we had lunch with our friends the Darnells (Tom's a painter) at their home in the Minervois. We took their truck (the two dogs Betty and Gladys sat in the front and the people piled in the back) to a green oak forest nearby and hunted like wild things, running bent at 90 degrees through the underbrush eyes peeled to the forest floor.
We ate well that night: risotto
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