My heels hit the pavement with a muffled thud that keeps time with the music streaming in my ear.  I've been fussing with the wire to my headphones, trying to rearrange the line moving down the inside of my shirt to the iPhone in my hand without losing my balance and accidentally stepping out in front of a car.  Frustrated, I finally pull the plugs from my ears and wrap the cord around my wrist, content to let my feet provide base to accompany the chirping birds' melody as I finish my jog.

I’ve only recently started running again, pounding the pavement on my neighborhood streets as much for the fitness benefits as for the opportunity to get outside and absorb the beauty of my environment. Running and I don’t really get along (you can read a bit about that here, from the old Bella Eats) so my mileage is pretty light and my pace is fairly slow. I typically try to distract myself either with a talkative buddy or a good Pandora station on my iPod, but lately have found that my surroundings are distraction enough.

In the last few weeks I’ve witnessed the transition of dry, yellow lawns into luscious, chartreuse carpets speckled with sunny dandelions and dusty purple violets. I’ve waited patiently for the lilac bush at the top of one long, steadily-sloped hill to come to bloom and finally, just last week, was able to stop for a few deep inhales of oh-so-sweet perfume from its clumps of delicate blossoms. As my feet pad-pad-pad the concrete sidewalk I’ve found my head spinning in all directions to absorb freshly-mulched flower beds that first showcased crocuses in mid-March, revealed daffodils two weeks later and tulips two weeks after that. The ethereal quality of each April day is enough to entice me to lace up my shoes and walk out the door, always excited to see what’s changed in the few days since I last plodded around the neighborhood.

As I peak the last small hill before the intersection one block from my house I am hot and sweaty, my skin bright pink and glistening with tiny beads of moisture. I reach the corner and slow to a walk, raising my hands to the top of my head and taking in a few deep, slightly ragged breaths. The breeze picks up just then, sweeping through the branches overhead to send a cascade of browning cherry blossoms swirling towards the ground. This is the last of them, the white and pink flowers have been slowly pushed out by darkening green leaves over the last couple of weeks. I’ll miss the bright, cottony treetops, but now we have floppy dogwood blossoms and bright fuchsia azaleas to admire. And after that there will be wild sweet peas and multiflora rose, both lending the air surrounding Charlottesville with the sweetest scent you can imagine, making the deep, ragged breaths at the end of a run a bit more tolerable.

The sun is setting now, giving the golden evening light a hint of green as beams filter through the new growth on our backyard trees. I stretch on the back deck for a few minutes, sinking my hips deep into a lunge as the Spring breeze brushes over my still-damp skin, sending a little smattering of goosebumps up my cooling arms. It’s going to get chilly overnight, despite the mid-day temperature of 65-degrees.

This is so typical for Charlottesville this time of year - daily temperatures that swing from the 30's to the 70's and back in just 24 hours' time.  It calls for a little planning in the morning, a layering of clothing to be sure you're warm enough when you walk out the door but not too hot when you step out for lunch.  It means watching the forecast carefully to be sure that those plants that spent the Winter indoors and "just want a little sunshine!" on the back deck are brought in before the air turns too cool. It also means preparing meals that satisfy a plethora of cravings, from light and bright to comforting and warm.

As I finish my stretching and head inside my nose absorbs the scent of chicken braising in a bath of milk, lemon, sage and cinnamon.  There is soup too, a zippy puree of Winter-Spring veggies.  I am glad that I thought to start dinner prior to my run, because although standing in a hot kitchen prepping dinner sounds miserable right now, in thirty minutes the cool air slipping through our windows will have me wanting a warm and comforting meal.  A warm and comforting meal that is, at the same time, light and bright with the promise of Spring.

This soup is perfect on these Spring days with nights that feel closer to Winter. The parsnips are strong, so if you're looking for just a hint of the root I'd reduce their amount to 1/2 pound and up your potato count to 3.  Be sure to add the squeeze of lemon at the end, it really makes the asparagus shine.

Creamy Asparagus and Parsnip Soup

serves 4 Ingredients

• 3 tbsp butter
• 2 large russet potatoes, peeled and diced to 1-inch chunks
• about 3/4 pound parsnips, peeled and diced to 1-inch rounds
• 1/2 large onion, diced
• 3 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 pound asparagus, tough ends removed, chopped to 1-inch pieces
• 1 cup white wine
• 4-5 cups chicken broth
• salt and pepper
• 1 lemon

Method

1. Melt butter in a large soup pot over medium-high heat.  Add the potatoes, parsnips, onion, garlic, and asparagus and stir to coat with butter.  Cover pot and let veggies sweat for 10-15 minutes, until the potatoes and parsnips are slightly tender.
2. Add white wine to pot and stir to deglaze bottom of pan if there are any bits of veggie stuck.  Add the chicken broth, enough to just cover all of the vegetables.  Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer and cook until potatoes and parsnips are fully tender, another 10 minutes or so.
3. Using an immersion blender or a regular blender, puree the vegetables until you have a smooth, creamy consistency devoid of any chunks.  Season with salt, pepper, and lemon juice, to taste.

This chicken is everything that everybody has raved about.  Moist and flavorful, it is wonderful on its own dressed simply with the sauce created from the braising liquid.

Braised Chicken in Milk

recipe from Jamie Oliver via Whitney in Chicago and The Kitchn serves 4 Ingredients

• 3-1/2 pound organic chicken
• sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 1 stick of butter
• olive oil
• cinnamon stick (mine was about 3 inches in length)
• handful of fresh sage leaves, removed from stem
• zest of 2 lemons
• 10 cloves of garlic (I removed the skin)
• 1 pint milk

Method

1. Preheat your oven to 375*.
2. Rinse and thoroughly dry your chicken.
3. Rub your chicken down with sea salt and black pepper, evenly and thoroughly.  Heat a large oven-proof pot on your stove top and melt the stick of butter and a glug of olive oil together.  Place the chicken in the pot, breast-side down, and fry until golden brown.  Turn bird to all sides to get even, golden color.  This should take about 10 minutes.
4. Remove the bird from the pot and place on a plate.  Discard the remaining butter and oil.  Put the bird back in the pot (don't mind all of the little brown bits at the bottom of the pot, they will add tremendous flavor to the final sauce) and add the rest of your ingredients.  Place the pot in the oven, covered, and cook chicken for 90 minutes.  Baste with the cooking juices whenever you remember (which I did 2 or 3 times).  If you think about it, remove the lid for the last 30 minutes of cooking, so that the skin will crisp up a bit.  If not, no biggie.
5. To serve, pull all of the neat from the bones and divide amongst 4 plates.  Be sure to siphon up the juices in the pot including the curds, which I know look weird but add so much flavor to the sauce.  I put the sauce in a jelly jar and shook it really hard, to help incorporate those curds into the liquid so that they didn't look so funny on my chicken.  Spoon the sauce over the pulled chicken and ENJOY!

Be sure to fish out all of the garlic cloves from the pot when the chicken is done.  Spread them over thick slices of chunky bread, and swoon!

Brian and I met when we were 18 years old, as freshmen in college. We were introduced by a mutual friend at an evening lecture in our first few weeks of school and hit it off immediately. Although we were both in long-distance relationships with high school sweethearts, we had a connection that couldn’t be denied. At least not by those around us. WE denied it, Brian and I did, despite the two years of friendship and flirting and soul-bearing conversations that followed. We were both architecture majors, and each semester arranged our schedule so that we had all of our classes together. On the first day of school we’d get to our studio early to ensure that our desks would be located next to each other in the space where we spent most hours of our days and nights. We’d put a disc-man between us, load it with mixed CDs and plug in a pair of split headphones so that we could listen to the same music as we worked all night long on projects for the next day’s review. Our friendship continued to grow as we saw each other through relationship elation and heartache, as well as the highs and lows of life as a student of architecture. But still we denied any feelings we had for each other, insisting to those around us that we were just friends, never anything more. The end of the second year of architecture school brings a make-it-or-break-it moment for its students - a pin-up presentation that shows your best work to a panel of your professors so that they can decide whether or not you show enough promise to proceed in the program. It is terrifying - a time when you search your soul to decide if you are truly made for architecture, and debate possibilities for what you might change your major to if you are not chosen. You are given roughly 36 hours, the time between when your last project of the semester is complete and the pin-up judgement begins, to put together a 4-foot by 8-foot board that expresses who you are as a designer. Brian and I, of course, spent those 36 hours together, holed up in his apartment working round-the-clock with no sleep. At one point, around hour 30, I was exhausted to the point of tears and hungry for anything other than pizza or Chinese delivery. And so, Brian made me soup. It took a few more months and the demise of our high school relationships for me to outwardly admit the feelings I had for Brian but, looking back, I believe that the moment he handed me that bowl of piping-hot potato cheese soup amidst the biggest deadline of our lives thus far was the moment I knew that there was something more between us. This soup is still, to this day, my absolute favorite thing that he makes in our kitchen.  It has morphed over the years, adjusting with our tastes and food values, but at its core is still the creamy, delicious, heart and soul-warming meal that he made me so many years ago. Brian's Potato Cheese Soup serves 4 Ingredients:

• 2 tbsp butter
• 1 large onion, 1/2-inch dice
• 3 stalks celery, 1/2-inch dice
• 2 medium carrots, peeled and diced to 1/2-inch
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 4 large Russet potatoes, peeled and diced into 1-inch cubes
• 6-8 cups chicken stock (we use better than bouillon no-chicken base)
• 4 oz extra-sharp cheddar cheese, 1/2-inch cubes
• 4 oz gruyere cheese, 1/2-inch cubes
• salt + pepper
• 4 mini bread bowls
• parsley (for garnish)

Method:

1. Heat butter over medium-high heat in large soup pot.  Add the onion, celery, carrots and garlic and saute' until the onions are just translucent, about 5 minutes.  Add the potatoes and saute' another minute.  Add the broth and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to medium (a low boil) and cook until the potatoes are tender but not falling apart.  Remove from heat.
2. Put the cheese cubes into a blender.  Pour 2-3 ladles of hot soup on top of cheese in blender.  Puree' the mixture until smooth.  Whisk the cheese puree' back into your soup pot.
3. Salt and pepper to taste.
4. Serve in a sourdough bread bowl, if desired.

Local

Virginians...check out the Virginia Chutney Festival next weekend in Sperryville, VA!  I wish I were going to be in town, because their picnic menu looks amazing!  It includes all locally raised and produced food - a true celebration of local flavors.  For more information, check out their website at www.virginiachutney.com.

Even though we've only lived here four years, Brian and I have fallen completely in love with Charlottesville.  One of the things we enjoy most about this little city is the strong local food movement.  We visit the farmer's market each weekend during the season to gather our meat, eggs and produce for the week (whatever we're not growing in our own garden) and have long conversations with our favorite farmers. We get to see photographs of the chickens who lay our eggs pecking the ground in their grassy field, the cows and their new calfs, and the bee hives housing the bees that are pollinating the plants from which our vegetables grow. It is undoubtably our favorite part of the week, and we make sure to leave ourselves with plenty of time to talk to Richard about the problems we are having with our own tomato plants and to gush to Jean about the magic of her hens’ eggs. We have a direct connection to the people who supply the food on our table, something that I think the majority of the world population doesn’t have and may not understand. I know that we're very fortunate, and was reminded of it again last week when I made this vegetable frittata.  As we sat down to eat I realized that every single ingredient, except for the parmesan cheese and olive oil, was locally grown.   The eggs, milk, bell pepper, leeks and zucchini all came from the farmers' market, and the herbs were grown in our own garden.  How cool is that?!? I'm not trying to rub it in, I'm really not, I just had to share with you all the amazing feeling that I had knowing that our dinner was not only delicious, but also supporting our local farmers. With Food, Inc. just out (which I haven't seen yet, gasp!) I've read a lot more chatter in the food blog world about being aware of where our food comes from.  Its exciting, and I'm so glad to see bloggers with serious readership and influence supporting the cause.  To join in, I wanted to share a couple of sites I've recently read about that may help you discover local food providers in your area.  And, for my Charlottesville readers, I've added a new local page to the top bar.  I know that I am probably missing a lot of great resources so if you have any to add, please leave a comment!

• Local Harvest
• Pick Your Own
• Eat Local Challenge

I challenge you all to make this frittata and try to include at least one local ingredient, even if it is just herbs from pots on your porch.  Every little bit counts! Feel free to switch up the veggies, the recipe is very versatile.  And delicious too, I might add. Farmers' Market Frittata Ingredients:

• 8 large eggs
• 1/2 cup plain greek yogurt (for a silkier texture) or 1/2 cup whole milk
• 4-5 good grinds of sea salt
• pinch of freshly ground black pepper
• 2 tbsp fresh chives, minced
• 1/4 cup fresh parsley, minced
• 1 red bell pepper, chopped to 1/4-inch dice
• 1 zucchini, chopped to 1/4-inch dice
• 1 leek, white and pale green part only, halved then sliced thinly
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• 1/2 cup freshly grated parmesan cheese

Method:

1. Whisk together eggs, salt, pepper and yogurt or milk until smooth.  Add minced herbs and stir well, set aside.
2. Heat oil in 10 or 12 inch nonstick skillet over medium heat.  Add bell pepper, zucchini and leek.  Cook for 8-10 minutes, until veggies are tender.
3. Increase heat to medium-high.  Pour egg mixture over veggies evenly.  Cook on medium high for 3-4 minutes, tilting pan and lifting edges of frittata to allow raw egg to run underneath.
4. Lower heat to low, cover pan and cook for an additional 8-10 minutes, until frittata is mostly set.  Shake pan occasionally while cooking.  Meanwhile, place a rack at the top of the oven and turn broiler on to high.
5. Remove frittata from stovetop when it is mostly set.  Sprinkle cheese across top and place in oven, under broiler.  Broil for 1-2 minutes, watching carefully to not let it get to brown.  You just want a few spots of brown across the top, and bubbly cheese.
6. Remove from the oven and allow to cool in pan for about 5 minutes.  Remove to cutting board or large plate, cut into wedges and serve.

Oh my, what a weekend.  With our deadline at the office behind us Brian and I were finally able to relax for Two. Whole. Days.  We took advantage of the sunshine on Saturday with a trip to the farmer’s market and tasks in the garden, while Sunday’s rain allowed time for baking and reading to the mellow sounds of some favorite bands.  We even entertained Friday night.  As far as weekends go, this one was definitely good for our mental health, and much needed.

Our kitchen finally feels loved again, as do our stomachs.  Simplicity was key to most of what was prepared and consumed because we were still in recovery from the weeks of late nights and take-out food (sadly, crockpot minestrone only lasted for a couple of days).  After that long of a hiatus one really doesn’t want to rush into anything too complicated too quickly, and we were in need of some instant gratification. So many good, simple recipes came from the grill, oven and food processor that I had a hard time deciding which to share first.  Ultimately I decided on this one because it was the most recent of my options and looking at the photographs caused my mouth to salivate at the memory they evoked.  Also, I love that the simple pasta dish uses fresh ingredients purchased at the farmer’s market Saturday morning - sweet Italian sausage from one favorite farmer and tender mustard greens from another.  If only I’d stopped by the Everona Dairy booth I’d have had local sheep’s milk cheese to use instead of store-bought parmesan.  Next week... Spring greens are abundant right now and any variety would do, but I think that the spicy bite of the mustard greens really makes this dish shine.  If you decide to use a milder green such as kale or swiss chard, you might want to kick up the flavor with hot Italian sausage instead of sweet, or some red pepper flakes tossed in the skillet with the onion and garlic. Pasta with Sausage and Spring Greens serves 3 Ingredients:

• 3/4 lb brown rice pasta
• 1 bunch mustard greens (about 1 lb), leaves separated from stems and rinsed well (stems discarded)
• 1 lb sweet italian sausage, removed from casing and chopped into bite-size pieces
• 1/2 medium onion, chopped (about 1 cup)
• 4 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
• 1 cup chicken broth
• 1/2 cup shredded parmesan, plus extra for topping
• 1 tbsp fresh parsley
• salt + pepper

Method:

1. Boil pasta, drain, return to pot and set aside.
2. Rinse mustard greens and drain.
3. Saute' sausage in non-stick skillet for 2-3 minutes.  Add garlic and onion and continue to cook until sausage is browned.
4. Add mustard greens to skillet and cover.  Cook mixture, stirring occasionally, until greens are wilted (4-5 minutes).
5. Meanwhile, heat chicken broth over medium heat in small saucepan.  Whisk in 1/2 cup of shredded parmesan cheese, stirring until cheese is melted. Add fresh parsley and allow to simmer for 5 minutes.
6. Pour parmesan broth over cooked pasta.  Add sausage/mustard green mixture and stir well.
7. Serve immediately with parmesan shaved over the top.