“We are going to look for ramps,” my friend Helga said to me one early spring day. “What’s that?” I replied, never having heard the word before. “You’ll see…” was all she would say.
Armed with small shovels, carrying plastic bags, and wearing work gloves, we set off up the hill and into the woods behind her house in South Royalton. We hiked a mile or so till we reached a plateau. Suddenly Helga headed over to an area of bright green leaves growing on the ground in clumps and covering the floor of the woods. “Here they are!” she said triumphantly as if she were greeting old friends. She told me that she has been coming to this same spot on the property every spring for the past twelve years.
Taking a small shovel, she dug carefully around a clump of leaves working the roots out of the ground. Freeing them gently, she held up a bunch of leaves with small white bulbs at the root looking much like scallions or smaller version of leeks. That’s because ramps are related to this species, only they are a wild variety. Officially they are known as Allium tricoccum or wild leeks. I watched Helga bend down to dig up more and followed her lead till I got the gist of loosening the roots before pulling out the plant so that the bulb remains intact. Ramps give off a strong garlicky onion odor even while pulling them out of the ground. Bring them in the house and the odor gets can be quite powerful.
Digging up the ramps is the easy part. The work comes in cleaning them as they come out of the ground, like most root vegetables, heavily caked with dirt. It takes much rinsing and soaking and eventually removing the natural film around the bulb to get them clean enough to cook with. Once cleaned, you can chop them up to use in a variety of dishes. Helga chopped some up, put them in a frying pan with olive oil and seasonings, sautéed them, and served them with parmesan cheese over freshly made plain pasta. Delicious… because of their pungent flavor.
Learning to dig for ramps opened up a new world to me - a world of foods found in the wild. I am now aware that this is second nature to my European and Russian neighbors. Helga and Heidja, who both grew up in Germany, told me that this is what they did as children during the Depression and World War II when food was scarce. My Russian neighbors are avid mushroom pickers and seem to know just where to go to pick them and which ones are safe to eat. The ritual of going into the woods at certain times of spring and summer seems to be part of welcoming each new season.
I came home after my first ramp digging experience to discover that there were acres of ramps growing in the woods all over the mountain where I live. For years, each spring I had walked right by this new bright colored green growth in the woods and never had any idea what it was. Now, I am practicing incorporating digging for ramps into my ritual for the coming of spring to Vermont. I have been on the Internet to find ideas for recipes to use them in. There is something deeply gratifying about the freedom of going into the woods to bring home a plant that is delicious to eat. Deep down it feels like I have been in touch with some long dormant instinct I was meant to use while on this earth.
Today my kitchen smells of ramps because the ones I picked fresh today are drying on the counter. We’ll be enjoying Ramp Quiche for dinner tonight.
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