Let Spring Produce Be Your Drug.
Dip into my stash of spring recipes. Use as needed.
I’M SURE I’M NOT TELLING YOU anything new when I point out that life is stops and starts, ups and downs, wins and defeats, happiness and despair, peace and chaos, piles of ashes and strange birds.
And no one—individually or collectively—is exempt, of course. Anyone who tells you their life has been a perfect, level plane, with no peaks and valleys, is either in deep denial, completely insane, or a robot.
And I think it’s probably safe to say that most of us unintentionally take the sunny days for granted—and that during dark times, it’s often very hard to recall the warmth of the sun. That’s the tragedy of it, isn’t it? When you’re the pile of ashes, you can’t imagine what it’s like to be the bird.
A little request:
Please hit the ❤️ button at the top or bottom of this newsletter if you’ve enjoyed visiting our garden of salad. 🍅
So why am I bringing up something everyone already knows—especially in a salad newsletter? Because I want to be happy and I want you to be happy, too. Plus, I’m a little off my rocker and have dedicated my remaining years on this planet to salad.
I believe the best we can hope for is the strength to live through—and eventually let go of—the worst times, even if it takes one hundred years. And to embrace the good moments—large, medium, and even very very small—so tightly that they leave an imprint on us, color everything we do.
Which, of course, is easier said than done. (Try listening to Bill Evans; it helps.)
Right now, where I live, it’s beautiful in a way that gives me goosebumps. Blossoms from a flowering cherry tree are covering my yard like pale pink snow and blowing across my little sidewalk. They’ll disappear; that’s just a fact. It’s up to me to store them somewhere in the hard drive in my skull, as a hedge against hopelessness during blossomless times.
I started thinking about all this for a few reasons, the smallest of which is how distressed I feel when I realize I can only give you so many recipes before spring is over. How can I possibly do this season’s produce justice before it’s gone—and before everyone is gassing on about how nobody loves summer tomatoes and tomato sandwiches more than they do?
And then I remembered my archive. My giant archive.
So I’ve rounded up some springtime highlights from earlier years, recipes I return to when I want to feel like I’m truly in the season while it’s happening.
Some of them are paywalled, some I’ve unlocked for free readers. Because I love you.
🥬 🫛
I’M GOING TO START YOU OFF WITH an issue featuring light and wonderful dips for crudités, from one of my favorite cookbooks. They’re easy and delicious and a great way to clean out your fridge when you have over-purchased spring vegetables. (Or any vegetables, really; anything can be dipped.)
Then a Spring Goddess Rice Salad
Then that gorgeous Sugar Snap Pea Salad with Tarragon Vinaigrette and the Cold and Velvety Cucumber Soup, from the photos up above. ⬆️
Then a collection of dips for building A Springtime Asparagus Party Platter for 4 (or for 1 Person, 4 Times in a Row)
Then a quick and delicious asparagus soup you whiz in your blender.
And finally, one of our Dressing Room issues featuring Big-Flavored Carrot Miso Dressing. It includes an unlocked downloadable recipe for my Convertible Green Goddess Dip (which is easily turned into Green Goddess Dressing).
🥬 That’s It! We’re done here! We’ll see you soon with recipes for liver and onions and potted beef. I’m kidding! It’s going to be salad.
🥬 🥬 Meanwhile: Why not hit the ❤️ button, share your comments, or share the newsletter with friends and loved ones (who deserve it). Thank you for being one of our special subscribers!
🥬 🥬 🥬ONE IMPORTANT NOTE! Please remember: all issues of the newsletter are always available at the Department of Salad website. (You can search “The Department of Salad” or go directly to emilyrnunn.substack.com.) To search the Index, simply use the search function (command F) that produces a search bar in the upper-right-hand corner of the page.





Thank you for this! Spring in Pennsylvania is still at the intermittently teasing you stage.
Four years ago, I started to see salad as genuine self-care after buying Jess Damuck’s Salad Freak. There are few things that make me feel better about myself than assembling a collection of beautiful ingredients and making something delicious that the rest of my family would hate, because that means I am “taking time for myself” in perhaps the truest sense of the phrase. Finding your blog to augment and add to my salad adventures has only expanded the delight. Small bright things are perhaps the most noticeable in heavy dark times.