Lust, Caution

At long last, something to eat. We found the fiddleheads near the top of a hill, by an old stone wall. They were just starting to rise, but easily visible in a groundscape newly released from months of flattening snow.


We ate them steamed last night, unadulterated even by salt, and again tonight, with crumbles of gorgonzola and a dash of fig-infused vinegar.

As it turned out, I also acquired a tick, and a rash, and a prescription for a two-week dosage of antibiotics. Lyme disease is not widespread in Vermont, but common enough to err on the side of caution.