The farmers market was quieter than usual this morning, just the hiss of mist sprayers over the greens and the occasional thud of crates being restacked. I'd come looking for spring onions, but a vendor I'd never noticed before had laid out bundles of garlic scapes—those tender, curling shoots that taste like garlic's gentler cousin.
"First of the season," she said, trimming the ends with a small knife. "They won't last long."
I bought two bundles, even though I had no plan. Sometimes the ingredient comes first, and the dish follows.