I love the flavors of spring. In 2007 Barbara Kingsolver wrote “Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life,” a wonderful account of eating only local food — and in season. She and her family decided to grow as much of their own food as possible, and to say no to strawberries in winter or any food flown long distances any time. That meant no oranges or bananas, which made the onset of the rhubarb season all the more special for them. I agree.

I’m not as rigid as Kingsolver — but I approve of the principles involved. I store, freeze and preserve much of my food for winter use, but I do buy winter lettuce when I really crave it, and enjoy grapefruits and oranges from time to time. I am lucky that Long Winds Farm in Thetford, Vt., produces fresh organic tomatoes 10 months of the year so I can occasionally supplement my stored tomatoes with fresh ones in winter. And I buy coffee and wine that’s not local, though I believe she did, too, on occasion.

Still, it’s important to me to eat locally and seasonally. Now, as fresh veggies are growing in my garden and in my woods, I am relishing the treats they provide me. I am gathering ramps and fiddleheads from my woods. I am picking rhubarb, sorrel, chives and Good King Henry from my garden. Early lettuce from my garden is just around the corner, my early parsley plants are ready for a little pinching and asparagus is waking up.

About five years ago I started digging ramps from a huge patch in the woods, taking 50 or so each year and transplanting half of those into my own woods (and eating the rest). Ramps are also called wild leeks as they are in the same garlic-onion-leek family. They send up two or three broad leaves that are about 6 inches long and form a nice small bulb about the size of a clove of garlic. Ramps grow well in moist forests with mature trees, often under maple or beech trees. I wanted some in the woods near my house so that I could go dig a few just before dinner without taking a hike. I tried to match the light and soil conditions when I replanted them. I also looked for the other plants that grow with them in the wild (such as trillium) to guide me. Since I grow trillium, I knew I could grow ramps, too. I discovered that ramps are slow growing, and slow to form a large patch. That means you should never take large numbers if wild harvesting them. And of course, you should ask the property owner. I like to sauté the leaves and bulbs as part of a vegetable stir fry. Fiddleheads are another spring treat for me. These are the coiled tips of the ostrich fern (Matteucia struthiopteris). Although I harvest mine in the wild, my local food coop sells them, too. In the coop there is a warning saying that one should boil them for 10 minutes to remove toxic substances before eating. Baloney, I say! I sauté them in olive oil with garlic and sometimes add a few almond slivers or morsels of walnut. Delicious. Boiled for 10 minutes they are tasteless mush.

My favorite (and most knowledgeable) author on the topic of wild harvested food, Sam Thayer, writes in “The Forager’s Harvest: A Guide to Identifying, Harvesting and Preparing Edible Wild Plants” (www.foragersharvest.com) that fiddleheads from the ostrich fern are not toxic whether cooked or not. He notes that proper identification of the fiddleheads is important. He explains that all ferns produce fiddleheads as they unfurl, and that two other ferns, cinnamon fern and interrupted ferns are sometimes mistakenly eaten. They’re not deadly; he’s eaten them and reports they are bitter and unpleasant — and should be considered unsafe.

Thayer writes, “A 6-yearold, once shown the difference, could get it (the identification of ostrich ferns) right a million times out of a million. Cinnamon and interrupted fern fiddleheads are thickly covered with wool and lack the deep groove running the length of the stem.” But the best part of his chapter on fiddleheads is his revelation that the stem, not just the curled tip, is edible. He cuts the stems when 12 to 28 inches tall and cooks the entire stem. He says never to take more than two stems per plant (out of 6 or so) to avoid stressing the ferns.

Sorrel is a lemon-flavored perennial green I grow. The French make it into a creamed soup, but I like it best in a salad. Look for plants in the herb section of your garden center, and plant in full sun and rich soil.

Good King Henry is a spinach-like plant that I steam like spinach, though it has more substance than spinach when cooked. Seeds are sold, but buy plants if you can find them — the seeds are difficult to germinate. Interestingly, it is in the same genus as the plant that produces quinoa, a grain often used by the gluten intolerant.

If you have a chemical-free lawn, you can harvest dandelion greens, too. Pick before they bloom, and learn how to dig and prepare them from an old-timer.

Henry Homeyer doesn’t consider himself an old-timer, but his most recent book, “Organic Gardening (not just) in the Northeast: A Hands- On, Month-by-Month Guide,” has an article on how to prepare dandelions. Go to www.Gardening-Guy.com for information on his book.

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