As a child, I regularly visited a little Idaho town called Arimo, where my mother would cut asparagus from the ditches at my great grandparents’ ranch. I’d eat it raw, because I felt like it was expected, and that I should enjoy it, but I didn’t. Years later, I got asparagus in a produce coop basket, and discovered that it was actually pretty tasty. The last straw to my asparagus-loving-resistance came while reading Animal Vegetable Miracle, by Barbara Kingsolver, where she describes the phalic asparagus as the vegetable that breaks the cold frozen ground of winter and signals the coming of spring. After that, I knew I had to plant some.