Heyo!
It’s ramp season—that time of year when every food writer blows their load at the thought of making the same pun. “Ramp up your pesto!” an online recipe with 14 pages of mostly photographs will instruct you. Forgive their nerdy arousal—these pungent, leafy, garlicky wild onions are Spring gold.
Ramp season is relatively short—roughly April and May—but their bounty is plentiful. Most farmers’ markets will carry them, and some select restaurants will feature them on their menus, too. They are decidedly seasonal, but even more-so geographical. California will just never produce ramps.
Ramps are a type of wild allium closely related to spring onions and leeks, and they can grow in some very high numbers. It’s not like you just find one or two growing sporadically in your backyard; typically I find ramps by the field-full.
That doesn’t mean they’re actually in abundance, however. In Quebec, ramps are a protected species and have strict harvesting limits. The vulnerable species law (I can’t read French) states that a person can only harvest 200 grams, or roughly 50 bulbs, per person per year. If you’re thinking about getting rich off of ramps in Quebec, check yourself. A guy just got popped with a $2,000 fine last year.
Allium trioccum (wide leaf, common ramps) are listed by the USDA as being of special concern and commercially exploited in Maine, Rhode Island, and Tennessee. Allium burdickii, a more rare species of ramp with narrow leaves and a green stem, is listed as endangered in New York and threatened in Tennessee. Ramps just can’t keep up with our lust for them. They grow slow, and take between 7-10 years to fully mature.
Keep in mind that when you forage ramps and completely pull the root out, you are eliminating the ramp forever. In the UK, I hear that it’s standard practice to only take the leaves; not even the stem, let alone the bulb. Personally, I take the stem, and a few bulbs, but for the most part try to leave 90 percent of the roots intact.
Quick story: There’s a forager in my hometown who’s a gigantic dipshit. He lives with his Mom and he’s banned from Facebook for lord knows what, but I’m guessing he’s some kind of Sandy Hook truther. Occasionally, I’ll run into him in the woods. He’s usually smoking a Marlboro red, and always brags about his bounty full of mushrooms. Every time I see him he begs me to write an article about him. Just an oblivious guy full of unearned confidence. I believe he makes his living foraging, and my cousin told me that he takes every single root and bulb when he forages ramps. Why? It’ll weigh more when he sells them to restaurants and markets. He’s the worst, selfish kind of asshole. Don’t be that guy. Ramps are best for personal use. Be thoughtful when you yank them out of the ground.
What you need to know about finding ramps
Ramps grow in wooded areas in the Northeast, Mid-Atlantic, and Midwest. Sorry, all of my Los Angeles brothers and sisters, but you won’t find them out West. They are very common in the Appalachian region (hell yeah) and the spot where I forage them literally has hundreds. Generally speaking, if you’ve got a good snout, you’ll smell ramps before approaching them. Stumbling upon ramps means literally walking into giant field of garlicky smells. Really, they’re every Italian’s wet dream.
So how do you find these guys? My cousin taught me to just drive around Pennsylvania backroads, and while you’re creepin’, keep your eyes peeled for lush, shaded, somewhat marshy areas. You’re looking for are cool, wet environments. I found a big ol’ stash near a creek filled with skunk cabbage.
Again, in areas where they are most plentiful, I think it’s OK to take a few of the bulbs to try them. For the most part, though, I believe that you really want to make sure the roots stay intact. Take the leaf and part of the purple stem. This ensures that ramps will continue to regrow in the same area. Keep in mind that ramps grow slowly and we eat them quickly. Get a foraging knife to swiftly detach each ramp if you’re not comfortable plucking them from the ground with your bare hands.
If you’re more of a visual learner, I highly suggest this Adam Witt video where he goes and finds ramps with expert forager, Edible Illinois AKA Michael Baker! Michael rocks, and has jumped in my DMs numerous times to tell me what I’m doing right or wrong.
About cooking with ramps
Ramp stems are super pungent, slightly sweet, and very crunchy. They should be cooked separately. I like to sauté them in olive oil and salt for 3 minutes. Ramp leaves are also quite garlicky, but don’t really need cooked all that much. I treat them like fresh spinach—carefully wilt them, don’t cook them to oblivion.
Ramps work as a great replacement for any situation needing leafy greens. Sparingly, and supplemented with other greens, they make a fantastic salad. They don’t pack much crispiness, but they’re tender, flavorful, and the stems will add some crunch. Tossing them with good vinegar and oil will tame some of that powerful flavor.
I also like to shove ramps into sandwiches whenever I get the chance. Specifically, I think they work great with eggs. This sandwich below—made with 2 hard boiled eggs, a tablespoon of Hellmann’s mayonnaise, and freshly cracked black pepper on rye—was plussed up considerably by the inclusion of fresh ramps. Who doesn’t like a bit of onion-y, garlicky flavor with their sando?
Eggs of all kinds are a natural partner to ramps; that’s because the powerful flavor or ramps cut through the rich, decadent flavor of the egg. This goes doubly for butter scrambled eggs. Ramps sautéed with butter are a favorite among spring onion enthusiasts. Here, I wilted some ramps with olive oil, then placed it on the opposite end of some butter scrambled eggs and Syrian-style toasted bread. A breakfast sandwich with sautéed greens remains king.
Pasta and ramps make a ton of sense, too, and it’s the easiest way to get a load of them into your diet. Which, you should be doing by the way: Ramps are good for you, contain lots of vitamin C, A, and apparently some cancer-fighting compounds.
I like to wilt them like spinach, at the very last possible second, with a pound of hot spaghetti, lemon juice, olive oil, and cheese. Bite-y, fresh, garlicky, and full of lemon flavor—this pasta is simple, easy, and perfect for spring.
Basic Spaghetti w/Ramps Recipe
1 lb. of dry spaghetti (I use De Cecco)
3 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for drizzling
20-24 ounces ramps (about 3 bunches), bulbs and stems chopped finely.
1 medium shallot
2 lemons
2 tablespoons salted butter
1/2 cup grated Pecorino Romano
1 teaspoon of crushed red pepper
Using a dutch oven or heavy bottomed pot, set your stove to medium-high heat, and add the olive oil and diced shallot. Season with a pinch of salt, and cook the shallots until translucent, about 4 minutes.
At this point, you can drop your dry pasta into boiling water.
Next, chop up your purple ramp stems and white ramp bulbs into a rough dice, then add to the shallots. Add the crushed red pepper in conjunction. Cook for an additional 3-4 minutes. Add a small ladle of pasta water, roughly a quarter cup, to the pot and stir.
When the pasta is al dente, add it to the ramp stems, shallot, and pasta water. Season it with salt and pepper.
Chop up your ramp leaves into 1-2 inch pieces. Add to the pasta. Now add the Pecorino Romano, squeeze the juice of your two lemons, two tablespoons of butter, and stir. Add more pasta water if needed (about another 1/4 cup), stir and cook for two minutes. Serve on a big ol’ platter. Drizzle with more olive oil.
Ramp Pesto
If you want to make a ramp pesto, I highly suggest this Serious Eats article which just nails it. It’s very important to blanch the ramp leaves and then shock them in ice water. This dilutes some of the harshness, but also makes the pesto really pop. Lemon is a great choice, too. The acidity plays well with these wild onions.
I used the ramp pesto make a pesto + guanciale pasta dinner for 2. I used…
1/2 lb of spaghetti
4 ounces of guanciale (I used smoked from Marrow)
2 tablespoons of ramp pesto
Pecorino Romano for garnish
To assemble, render the guanciale in its own fat until crispy. Save or discard most of the fat save for a tablespoon. Place the guanciale in a large mixing bowl with the pesto and 1/4 cup of pasta water. When the spaghetti is ready, simply add it to the bowl and stir vigorously. Salt and pepper generously.
Pro tip: Add a tablespoon of butter or another squeeze of lemon.
Oh, and hey, before I go: Here’s a great thought from my pal Ellory Smith.
Food unfortunately does cost money, unless you go steal it from the woods!
Wowee!!! Thanks for reading The Move. I’m absolutely jammin’ here in Detroit, with plenty of fun writing gigs lined up. I also think I’m gonna do a few pasta Sundays next month. Tell your Detroit friends. It’ll solely be through my Instagram.