Mid-Atlantic, Mid-Spring
Winter, spring, winter, spring
T.S. Eliott opens The Wasteland with “April is the cruelest month…” and Pennsylvania vignerons and home gardeners who lost baby grape leaves and asparagus beds agree. It was a capricious month, one day winter and the next, brilliant sunshine with the promise of spring.
Here in Pennsylvania, terra firma is forested and lush with an early green that seems lit from within. Bright pink redbuds, cherry and crabapple blossoms precede the dogwoods and lilacs. It’s one show after another; just keep your puffer jacket handy.
Sandwiched between the Atlantic Ocean and the Great Lakes, we are moist. We have the delicious ephemerals of the forest—morels, fiddleheads, ramps—and delicacies of the nearby coast—blue crab and oysters. And thanks to the influence of German forbears, we have a strong bread-and-sausage culture.
Last weekend, my friend Joann and I drove up to the Allegheny National Forest to look for ramps, aka wild leeks. We drove two hours north, beyond our old stomping grounds, S.B. Elliott (no relation to T.S.) and Parker Dam State Parks, over rollercoaster Routes 153 and 219, through Ridgway, where the Chainsaw Rendezvous was in full roar, to Kane, sometimes called the “Ice Box” of the East.
It was good that we started the visit at Bell's Meat Market because we were still dry. After our forest foray, we were drowned rats. We stocked up on wild leek sausage, sweet and hot, Greek sausage, Boudin, kielbasa and bratwurst. We bought some of their leek dips, regular and Cajun, and we watched the seasoned meat be extruded into hog casings right behind the counter. Though Jack Bell has passed away, his legacy of excellent meats and exceptional customer service lives on in Kane. Here is a story about Jack from 2013, published in Pennsylvania Magazine.
We drove north of town and turned left into the national forest to hunt for the ramps, armed with shovels and trowels. The wild spring allium is the first edible to green the forest floor, next to the Mayapples and Trillium. But it was soggy business. After an hour of digging, we were ready to find our way to the Kane Manor Inn and dry out.
The Kane Manor Inn is under new management, and we were impressed with the improvements that owners Ben and Deb Miller have made. It is a very historic structure, but they have been thoughtful and artistic with the renovations. The Inn has recently been named number four in the nation in its category of historic bed and breakfasts by Newsweek’s Reader’s Choice Awards, and the speakeasy that is under reconstruction in the basement should catapult that rating once it opens.
We went into town for dinner, trying out what seemed to have the highest ratings in town, Table 105. The Onion Soup Joann ordered was the best part of the dining experience, but maybe we should have known better than to order mussels and fish tacos in the PA Wilds. People around us with burgers and steaks looked happy.
The next morning, we enjoyed breakfast at the Manor before heading out early. The dining room had two other tables of overnighters, and it was a convivial crowd, comparing travel tips.
I took the bucketful of ramps that we gathered home and hosed them off outside while Joann went to work. Our split came to about 8 dozen ramps each, which John was happy to trim. I froze all of mine, since the next day we were going to Baltimore to visit my brother who is adamantly non-allium much to his wife, Barbra’s, dismay.
Monday lunch in Baltimore was a quick stop at the Broadway Market at Fells Point where we had lunch at the counter at Sal & Sons. The crabcake and fried oyster sandwiches, both liberally dusted with Old Bay set next to the grill, were perfect.
We were a part of the commuters as we drove from Baltimore to Frederick, which just made us grateful that the drive is not our everyday reality. In spite of her birthday, and being the de facto guest of honor, Barbra prepared a beautiful charcuterie board that I forgot to photograph. The ramp dips were nice accompaniments—and my bro could avoid them easily.
Their friends, Susan and Chris, joined us for dinner, and Susan brought a dessert that was not a cake. Instead, it was a Crème Brulee that Susan brightened with lemon zest and lemon juice in lieu of a missing vanilla bean. The substitution proved to be genius, just the right sunny flavor to channel the hiding sun.
Geoff’s grilled marinated flank steak, grilled slabs of Barbra’s sourdough bread for bruschetta, a bulgar pilaf with feta, and grilled vegetables were crowned with morels that John flambeed with Cognac. With the added drama of Susan torching the sugar on the Crème Brulee, we didn’t need any more than the one candle that Barbra held while we sang to her.
We had a visit with our friend Moira in the morning, and the two of us engaged in what is popular at our ripe old age—exchanging complaints about our health. But we are still standing, mostly.
That afternoon, we wound our way home and made an easy dinner of baked potatoes and leek sausage. My hack for a quick baked potato cuts the baking time in half. First, I microwave a pierced Russet potato for 5-10 minutes, depending on size. Then I brush it with olive oil, sprinkle it with flaky salt, and place it on a baking tray in a preheated 400° oven for about 30 minutes.
The two leek sausages that I first browned in a little olive oil in a hot cast-iron pan. Then poured on a half-cup of apple juice, sliced up an apple, and filled in the sides of the pan. We had some baby carrots that I threw in the pan as well. I let it all cook, covered, for about 20 minutes, then sliced the massive sausages into 5 pieces each to ensure they were cooked through.
Next time, I’ll take before photos!
Here is Susan’s recipe for her Lemon Crème Brulee. I knew Susan was my kind of person when she shared that she had ordered the flan dishes on Amazon the night before, when she realized that she needed them. They were on her doorstep in the morning. Now there’s a person who goes the extra mile! Thank you, Susan!
