I'm a produce geek. But I have standards.
While some folks get excited about Spring and the arrival of asparagus, or get all worshippy about fiddleheads (overrated weeds in my book), I get giddy when the bright beauty of local radishes hit the scene.
If you've only had radishes that come from a little plastic bag, you might think I'm nuts. Well, I am. But once you experience the bite and crunch from these little nuggets (although some are almost as big as beets), you'll completely understand.
The red and white ones on the left are called French Breakfast; I hear that the French eat them with butter. The pink, red and white ones are called Easter Egg. I just call them MINE.