Actually we located the ramps only because Maizie started wailing from her perch on her daddy's back, where she had been sleeping in her carrier. We had to find a place to stop for lunch right now. Turns out, our lunch spot was just a few yards from the ramps. Now when Maizie's fussing forces a detour that ends happily, we call it her "ramp-o-meter" going off.
We enjoyed the ramps in salads and, a few weeks later, pickled. They taste fresh, sharp, and earthy--just like how you might imagine wild leeks would taste.
