Shaved Asparagus with Parmesan and Lemon

The first asparagus of spring arrives before we are ready for it. One week the farmers' market stalls hold only storage vegetables, roots and brassicas that have weathered winter. The next week, there are bundles of slender green spears, snapped that morning, still cold from the fields.

These early spears are tender enough to eat raw. That is the test. If you must peel them, if the skin seems woody, wait another week or find a different farmer. The asparagus you want for this salad should snap cleanly and taste sweet when you bite into it at the market. Do not be shy about this. A good farmer expects it.

Shaving asparagus into ribbons transforms the spear entirely. What was straight and upright becomes curled and delicate, almost like green pasta. The vegetable peeler does the work. You are not cooking here. You are getting out of the way.

Dress this salad moments before serving. The lemon will begin to soften the ribbons immediately, which is pleasant for five minutes and problematic after ten. Let things taste of what they are: grass and green and the unmistakable sweetness of spring.