Finally, I found something I haven’t been able to get a hold of for decades: garlic scapes. The young farmer at the farmer’s market who was selling them was stunned that I could identify them. They taste amazing in garden salads. I used to pick them at my first husband’s dacha back in Ukraine. I hated that darn place (although it was a beautiful huge house with a real fireplace and a big garden), and the garlic scapes were the only thing to reconcile me with being there.
A big bunch cost me a strange price of one dollar seventy six cents.