The First Signs of Spring
by Nathalie Spielmann

It’s going to be spring this week and I apparently did not receive that memo. This oversight is confirmed when I look out my window, past the six feet of snow, the lakes of slush, and at the people in big down coats attempting to shield themselves from the blistering wind gusts on the streets of Montreal. I’m tired of the white, brown and gray palate that can be found everywhere I turn. And last week, I was about to loose complete faith and begin looking at real estate in some friendlier climate when a trip to the Atwater market readjusted my perspective.

Pictured above is what I consider to be the first sign of spring. It is the trailer of one of my favorite farmers at the  market. Last year, the family that owns this stall and doles out advice became a surrogate to my plate almost twice a week. Micheline and I would exchange chocolate samples and discuss the virtues of various cherry tomato varieties. It was through Guy that I learned why asparagus does better in cooler climates and that it truly can grow centimeters overnight. Don’t even get me started about their yellow corn. Les Jodoins inaugurate my market experience and are the last stop I make for purchases of fresh from the patches produce.

From April until November I follow the seasons with these local farmers and they followed my discoveries and witnessed my unleashed kitchen passions. I almost cried when they told me in October that they would be turning in for the winter in a few weeks. But the point of this ode to the Jodoins isn’t just about farmers in particular; it’s actually about a revelation that is particularly appropriate as we head into Easter weekend. The market is rising again…

I yearn for certain produce and products when I follow the seasons. Last week I thought of wild asparagus –wheat sheath looking sprouts that startled my palate last year. I actually purchase them every week and witnessed how they grow larger and acquire a more distinct flavour. It’s almost time for fresh Nordic shrimp that if you’re brave enough to buy unshelled, make for a messy but theatrical meal. Eat with Alaskan snow crab. Baby lamb needs no further discussion as its virtues are just too obvious. Even the cheeses will begin to change as the younger version of Comté, made during the winter, will make its way over to us. And then, the first Quebec strawberries, those little red bombs of pure delight that need to be eaten immediately and in large quantities.

Just thinking about what the near future will bring in terms of market offering is enough to brighten my day and get my mind racing with all the recipes I want to try. They are like old friends those ingredients at their prime, and I want to ensure that only their best qualities are highlighted. If we look forward to something, we always end up enjoying it more – we take care to appreciate the fleeting moments and ensure that we get as much satisfaction as possible. And just like in October I’ll be craving a great pot roast with root vegetables, I’ll take the time now to savour the anticipation of the first seasonal greens filling my basket.

Two things happen now when I look out my window at the often less than desirable weather that has typified the past few days. The first is I tell myself that while snow seems overrated today, I think it’s beautiful during those first snow falls in December, so I’ll accept that this is all part of winter, which is almost over. The second is that the Jodoin trailer is once again parked, albeit inactive, at the market and that the inevitable next development is that it will be once again stocked with fresh produce and populated by friendly faces. I can definitely wait for that.

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Nathalie Spielmann blogs at Food With a Point and lives in Montreal where she is a PhD student in Marketing focusing on the emotions related to the consumption of food products.