Warm Asparagus Salad with Eggs

The garden got its first planting Saturday. Peas along the north fence, four rows of lettuce, a stand of radishes, two rows of spinach. I know peas do not like hot weather, so I am trying to get them in early. I know radishes are the fastest crop. I know the spinach will bolt if the heat comes on too strong. I did all of this last in 2009. I do not remember everything. I am relearning. Sean watched me plant. He said "you're good at this." I said "I don't know yet." He said "you look like someone who is good at this." That was generous. The test is in the yield.

Liam is turning four on the 12th. His birthday is two weeks away. He has requested a fire truck cake (which I will make), his two best friends from preschool (Benny and Josie), cousin Aidan, Sean III (who will attend but not participate), cousin Siobhan — wait, Siobhan does not exist yet, I caught myself writing the wrong niece into a sentence, I must be tired. Just Aidan and S.P. on the family side, and Benny and Josie on the friend side. He asked if Linda from down the street could come. I said I would ask Linda. Linda will come. I am sure of this. She is our first neighbor. First neighbors come.

Sean had another headache Wednesday night. He said it was "just a headache." He took three ibuprofen and went to bed at 9. I noted the time. I noted that it was the third one in six weeks and that the first two had been Saturday nights after long days and that this one was Wednesday after a normal day. I noted this carefully. I have been an oncology nurse for nine years. I notice patterns. I decided not to say anything yet. I decided to note.

The clinic was busy — Monday was a long clinic day with a new-patient intake that took ninety minutes (a woman my age, same age, whose biopsy came back and who sat across from me and asked good questions in a steady voice and who did not cry, and I did not cry, we did the thing we did together which is absorb and plan) and Thursday was a long afternoon of chemo-side-effect management with three patients whose nausea regimens had to be rewritten. I did my job. I came home. I did the house.

I made salmon on Saturday — the simple salmon, the grill, olive oil, lemon, dill, a quick grill, served with the first radishes from the garden (sliced thin, on good bread, with butter and salt, which is the right way). Liam ate a radish because I let him pick it. He did not ask for more. Nora ate one and spit it out and asked for cheese. Sean ate five radishes in a row with butter and salt because Sean is a radish person from his mother's side.

Linda came over Sunday afternoon for tea. She sat at the kitchen table for forty-five minutes and told me about her daughter, who lives in Chicago, and her grandchildren, who she sees twice a year, and her late husband, who had been a plumber and who had built the bookshelves in her living room in 1987. She was not lonely. She was sharing. There is a difference. I listened. She asked about my work. I told her. She said "that must be hard." I said "it is." She said "you look like a strong person." I said "I don't know about that." She said "I do." She left. She hugged me. Linda.

The salmon got its moment Saturday—olive oil, lemon, dill, the grill—and it was right for that day, for the radishes and the bread and Sean eating five of them in a row. But the recipe I keep coming back to this time of year, the one that fits the long clinic days and the noting and the relearning, is this one: warm asparagus with soft-boiled eggs and a sharp mustard vinaigrette, done in under thirty minutes, quiet enough to let the week settle. Asparagus is the other early-May thing, like peas and radishes—it wants the same cool window, and you do not want to miss it.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs fresh asparagus, woody ends trimmed
4 large eggs
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 small shallot, finely minced
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
1 teaspoon honey
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more for blanching water
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped
Flaky sea salt, to finish

Instructions

Soft-boil the eggs. Bring a small saucepan of water to a rolling boil. Gently lower eggs in and cook for exactly 7 minutes. Transfer immediately to an ice bath and let sit for 5 minutes, then peel and halve lengthwise. Set aside.
Blanch the asparagus. Bring a wide skillet of salted water to a boil. Add asparagus in a single layer and cook 3—4 minutes, until just tender and bright green. Drain and spread on a clean kitchen towel to dry briefly.
Make the vinaigrette. In a small bowl, whisk together the minced shallot, Dijon mustard, white wine vinegar, honey, salt, and pepper. Slowly drizzle in 1 1/2 tablespoons of the olive oil while whisking until emulsified.
Sear the asparagus. Return the skillet to medium-high heat and add the remaining 1/2 tablespoon of olive oil. Add the blanched asparagus and cook, turning once, for 2 minutes until lightly colored in spots.
Assemble and serve. Arrange the warm asparagus on a serving platter. Nestle the egg halves among the spears, cut side up. Spoon the vinaigrette over everything, scatter with parsley, and finish with a pinch of flaky salt. Serve immediately while warm.

Nutrition (per serving)

Warm Asparagus Salad with Eggs — The Season That Asks You to Pay Attention