Spring is my favorite season. It always feels full of potential—the kind of potential that must make its way into the world. This sentiment feels reminiscent of my essence. All of that which is inside me must eventually come to be. Sometimes it sprouts and sometimes it blossoms. (It’s also been known to burst out even though I try to coax it to unfold and emerge more slowly.) Spring is the season for new things to be born. I was born in spring and my spirit gets giddy at the thought of reemergence and newness in my life and in my cooking.