I tend to cook most nights and am fortunate to have one of the most supportive partners, in eating and life, one could hope for. She greets everything with wide eyes and an “Oh, baby!” before it even gets to the table, even the misfires like my ongoing trials with thai peanut sauce. It’s pretty rare that I get to genuinely surprise her, though, as was the case with this side dish of sugar snap peas with mint, which we now excitedly refer to as “minty peas”.

This is a side that was meant for spring, with the sweet peas lifted by fresh mint and a little lemon zest. You’ve probably been roasting gourds and root vegetables since October; it’s time to brighten up a bit.

There are two techniques, both quick and simple, to getting this right. The first is to chiffonade¹ the mint into fine strips. The easiest way to do this is to pick the mint leaves from the stem, stack 6-8 or so together, roll them tightly, and cut them across the rolled bundle. Pick out any of the center stems that stick out and you’ll have a nice nest of mint. This technique works well with most herbs and leafy things, like collards.

Blanching is the other, and it’s one of my favorites, especially this time of year. With fresh, green vegetables, I like to use the big-pot blanching technique championed by Thomas Keller in his wonderful Ad Hoc at Home — it keeps fresh vegetables crisp and forces a brilliant green color. The key is to use a big pot of very salty water (Keller recommends 1 cup of kosher salt to 1 gallon of water) at a rolling boil to cook the vegetable as quickly as possible. Using lots of water helps to keep the temperature of the water from dropping when you add the vegetables so that they cook quickly. Lastly, prep an ice bath to submerge the vegetables in once they’re done so that they don’t overcook.

I like to dress the peas, either in a flavorful oil like a fruity olive oil or something nutty like walnut or hazelnut, or mix a very simple vinaigrette.

• 1 pound of sugar snap peas
• 8-10 fresh mint leaves
• 1 tablespoon flavorful oil (fruity olive, walnut or hazelnut)
• pinch of salt
• 1 teaspoon of fresh lemon juice (optional)
• lemon zest (optional)

1. Set a big pot of water, at least a gallon, on high heat.
2. While the water’s coming to temperature, snap the stem ends off the peas and pull the attached “string” down the full length of the pea.
3. Chiffonade the mint leaves by stacking them on top of one another, rolling them tight, and slicing them into thin ribbons. Discard any tough-looking stems.
4. If using the lemon juice, mix a vinaigrette by slowly adding the oil to the juice and constantly whisking with a fork to create an emulsion. Add a pinch of salt and whisk some more.
5. Prepare an ice bath of equal parts water and ice (a full ice cube tray is about right).
6. When the water is at full boil, add a cup of kosher salt per gallon of water and stir. Waiting until the water is fully boiling will keep the salt from pitting your cookware.
7. Add the sugar snap peas and watch carefully for them to turn bright green, about 1-2 minutes in. Fish one out and taste it - it should be crisp and sweet but not raw.
8. Drain the peas and quickly submerge in the ice bath until they’ve cooled, about five minutes, then drain and dry on a paper towel.
9. Toss in a large bowl with the oil or vinaigrette. Add the mint chiffonade, a pinch of salt and lemon zest (if using) and stir to combine.

1. The French chiffon refers to either a delicate silk or, more simply, to rags. Chiffonade means literally “made from rags”, a reference to the appearance of the herbs after they’ve been cut. Technically, it’s improper grammar to use chiffonade as a verb, though it’s common enough in the parlance of the kitchen. ↩

If your farmer’s market has been anything like mine of late, it’s been exploding with the promise of spring. Which means lots and lots of asparagus. The rhubarb is tempting but it’s not quite ready yet, the carrots are still tiny and the salad greens are, well, still there — the endless stalks of asparagus, though, are prime. Here are a few things you should know.

This stalky vegetable is generally pretty expensive because it has to be harvested by hand. Green is the color you’re probably most familiar with, though it can take on purple and reddish hues. White asparagus is the same plant as the green variety, it’s just been buried, which halts the formation of chlorophyl. White asparagus tends to be milder than its green brethren, which contains a higher concentration of sulphur compounds ¹, but will also take on a “woody” quality much more quickly.

Personally, I prefer the thinner stalks to the meaty, almost bamboo-like shoots that are as thick as a thumb, but they are less forgiving and easy to overcook. Asparagus synthesizes and stores its sugar early and will continue to do so even after it’s been cut, so get it early in the season and eat it soon.

When it comes time to prep, there’s a rather simple, time-worn method for separating the tender part from the tough: hold a stalk with both hands and bring the ends together until it snaps, discard the bottom part. If it doubles up on itself without breaking, discard that one as it’s no good anyway.

I have a few favorite preparation techniques. Coated in a little canola oil with some salt and pepper, they’re perfect for roasting in a hot oven (400°F) for about 6-8 minutes. The same technique works great on a grill, just prepare to lose a few soldiers to the coals — throw them on after the steaks are off and resting and they’ll be ready just in time to pour the wine.

Asparagus is also a nice candidate for blanching. Blanching is a beautiful, simple technique that’s perfect to use for spring vegetables. Get a large pot of water boiling, then add a fair amount of salt, say, 3-4 tablespoons for every quart. It’s important to use a lot of water so that it continues to boil when you add the vegetables and for it to be salty, about like sea water. The other thing to prep is an ice bath — fill a bowl with equal parts water and ice. The idea here is to cook the vegetables quickly, until they’re bright green but not past the point of losing that beautiful color, then stop the cooking just as quickly. Asparagus will need about 2-4 minutes cook time then at least five minutes in the ice bath. They’ll keep covered in the fridge for a day or so.

Cooked asparagus, hot or cold, pairs pretty nicely with olive oil as well as lemon juice and some coarse salt and fresh ground pepper. My favorite combination is with a poached or soft boiled egg, though. Here’s a dish I borrowed from Thomas Keller’s Ad Hoc at Home: grilled asparagus with a soft poached egg, slow cooked croutons (torn bread fried over medium heat in a pan of foaming butter), slivers of parmesan cheese, balsamic and pork — prosciutto, pancetta or even bacon all work well.