It’s an odd animosity I have towards people who start calling it summer when it’s June. Perhaps within those unnecessarily aggressive feelings there is jealousy. Here in the northwest it has looked more like fall or at times, winter, than nearing summer. The rains have been relentless and the effects of the thick gray cloud cover have been deeply felt. S.A.D. (Seasonal affective disorder) is quite real and even sadder when it extends its seasonal boundaries.
There is also a bit of fear in my willingness to accept summer is here before the calendar declares it. For me, summer can be a lot. Having just complained about the weather (which I really try to avoid, but seriously you guys, it’s been bad), it’s important to note that in the northwest we take our sun seriously. If the sun is out, so are we. I do actually really love this. You can see where our priorities lie on a sunny day. Work seems to fade away and everyone is out biking, walking, eating and drinking outside and simply lapping up the vitamin D. This is indeed a lovely thought and also, exhausting. There’s so much to do, to see, to cook over a fire, and fish, and hike, and, and, and…. And we do this all in about a two to three month window. By the time the evenings start to appear a little earlier in the day and there’s a chill in the air and the farms are bursting with apples, I’m ready to embrace the rains and the coziness of inside once again.
But the real reason I never bring summer forth before it’s good and time is because I love spring far too much. I love the crescendo that spring builds. Starting slowly in March and moving to where we are now when every morning in the garden there’s more to see. I love watching the earth turn a bright, yellow-green, and then deepen as the growth begins to mature. I love standing under our lilac tree and with eyes closed I listen to the deep hum of the bees. I love the steady progression at the farmer’s market. We’re all so eager to welcome in each new ingredient week by week. There’s an absolute thrill in the air when the first asparagus hits the market.
Right now the kids are buzzing with excitement that school is almost out. I love their enthusiasm and yet quickly get overwhelmed by the logistics of what this shift does. Balancing the desire for a bit of routine in our leisurely summer days and at the same time leaving room for spontaneity. And as I mentioned before there is an overwhelming amount to soak up during the summer season; good things, delicious things and yet I can get quickly affected by the sheer quantity of those magical summer moments.
Living deep within the seasons is a constant reminder to; Be Here Now. It felt appropriate to emphasize each of those words because I need this message so desperately. I need it to sink into my bones, to settle into every cell of my being. To arrest the onslaught of FOMO (fear of missing out), to become friends with the calendar in order to prioritize what truly matters and then take a deep breath to be with what is. It’s a practice for me to not worry about what I’m not doing while I’m doing something in the moment that is quite magical. Perhaps this fear is heightened right now as I’m working on a new cookbook that attempts to capture the beauty, as best I can, of each season. You know how you see the best of each season? By being with it. By paying attention and just noticing what is. Not what I think there should be or what I’m not doing but by being here now.
So while we’re still in spring and moving steadily towards summer I am committing myself (with you all as my witnesses) to follow the guidelines the great Mary Oliver laid out for us so beautifully:
“Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.”
Spending time with asparagus this season has been a spring highlight for sure. I can not physically resist buying a bundle or two when I’m at the market. One such bundle turned into an astonishing dinner as I soaked sourdough in a nutmeg and Dijon laced bechamel, then sandwiched the layers with asparagus and plenty of Gruyère to hold it all together. There are a few steps to this recipe, which include making a bechamel, but it does come together quite quickly and I have written the recipe in such a way that limits the amount of dishes to clean (always a goal for me as I cook). It’s a warm and comforting meal - perfect for a chilly spring evening.
Asparagus Croque Monsieur
Adapted from Buvette
Serves 4
Bechamel
1 1/2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons flour
3/4 cup whole milk
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
Salt and pepper
For the sandwich
1 tablespoon olive oil
Kosher salt
1 pound asparagus
8 slices sourdough bread
1 cup grated Gruyère
Preheat your oven to 425*F
Heat a large skillet over medium high heat. Add the olive oil then sauté the asparagus with a pinch of salt until just tender. Remove the asparagus to a baking sheet then reduce the heat to medium low. Melt the butter in the skillet then whisk in the flour. Continue to cook the flour for a minute or two before slowly adding in the milk. Whisk continuously to avoid any lumps. Once all the milk has been added, bring the mixture just to a simmer and stir in the nutmeg and Dijon. Turn off the heat. Add salt and pepper to taste.
Lay out the bread on your baking sheet and evenly divide the bechamel between all 8 pieces. Spread evenly and completely cover the surface of the bread. On four of the pieces add the asparagus on top of the béchamel. Then top with 2 tablespoons of Gruyere. Place another piece of sourdough on top of the Gruyère and asparagus with the béchamel on top. Place the remaining Gruyère on top of each sandwich.
Bake in the oven until the cheese melts and the béchamel has blistered and browned in parts, about 10 minutes. Enjoy while warm.
Love Mary Oliver and that quote in particular, Ashley. I also love asparagus and Croque Monsieur, but it’s been close to 100 degrees here in Chicago for the past 2 days 🥵 but as soon as the temp drops, I making your Croque Monsieur! Hope you’re well :)
Sometimes I wonder if we are somehow, secretly, unbeknownst to us, the same person. Or if maybe you somehow have a third sense of the themes in my life, from my ever growing desire to embrace the sweet minutia of the moment, down to a loaf of slightly stale sour dough, and two bunches of asparagus in the fridge, that have been waiting for me to use them. 💕