Winter in the Finger Lakes can swing wildly between a slate-gray frozen tundra, a frigid but sparkling blue sky glinting off the lake, and, this year, days that feel as gentle and warm as April, with confused snowdrops and aconite poking their faces above the earth. When this recipe appeared in my mind, it was one of those slate-gray frozen February days. All I wanted was a honeyed breath of summer, paired with something comforting – a dish with the practical core of a New England grandmother
