Dear Mom,

Passover is over, and the opulent days of cooking, eating and celebrating together have come to a pause. I am now laying on the floor of Terminal 4 at JFK, legs up the wall, trying to get some blood flowing before hours of cramped feet on my flight back to Israel.

Being together was great. I had so much fun cooking and creating new recipes. But when I come home, I regress. I sleep too much, eat too much, whine too much, throw my clothes on the floor like someone will pick them up for me (because someone most always does) and am reckless at the grocery store. It was amazing to be back in your absurdly well-stocked kitchen, but I’m ready to get back to Israel and take charge of my life again.

I know that when I get back to Israel things will be different: my roommates will have had new experiences without me, I’ll be behind on the readings for all of my classes and there will be new fruits and vegetables at the shuk (market). It will be a strange transition, but I remind myself of all of the things I look forward to—especially the sunshine and spring flowers after enduring such severe weather chaos in Alabama. I’m ready to sun my body in the parks and go hiking!

The first thing I plan to do after I drop my luggage off at my apartment is head to the shuk to restock my own kitchen—I can at least try to mimic your abundance. I can’t wait to experience this new season of produce. The recipe I’m including here is inspired by my fantasies of springtime. It’s a dish that incorporates the flavors and delicate vegetables of spring and is easy to pack up for a picnic supper or serve for Mother’s Day brunch. I’m sorry I won’t be home to celebrate Mother’s Day with you, but maybe you can make this dish and pretend that it was me. Or not.