Last year, I lived in Rome from August to December. Dropped into a world of strictly-seasonal cuisine, I was lucky; I got the best of the summer, fall, and (very mild) winter. I got fat, juicy tomatoes. I got earthy porcini. I got sharp, biting puntarelle, dressed with anchovy and olive oil.
But I'm greedy.
I want meaty carciofi (artichokes), tender peas, perfect squash blossoms: produce that Roman cuisine celebrates in the springtime. I want a glass of Frascati; I want a view of the Tiber. But since I'm now back in America, I'm cooking these Roman dishes until spring turns into summer. I'm making my own Roman spring -- and you can, too.