This past winter was a weird one.

I wrote a little bit about it, but never came right out and directly shared the full picture. Which is that I was/have been grieving the loss of my grandmother who passed in late January. She was a special one and for 38 years, I got to be the firstborn grandchild of a woman who adored being a grandma. As I’m writing this, post-Mother’s Day, I thought I might be able to squeeze in a little nod to her, her energetic spirit, and her bubbly, inquisitive personality.

My grandma, known to many as “Mal,” short for Mary Madeline, was a dedicated gardener and kept a beautiful, sloping flower bed off the side of my grandparent’s back porch. My grandfather, Pete, nurtured a large vegetable garden and there were always fresh greens on the summer dinner table, dressed with olive oil, vinegar (squirted out of a repurposed plastic honey bear), salt, and pepper. The “secret ingredient” was that the dressing had to be mixed into the lettuce by hand. My brother and I could eat buckets of this grandma-prepared delicacy!

Luckily, the “love for growing stuff and making things” gene made its way to me. My flower pot collection grows every year as my springtime trips to Tait and Patchwork Farms become more and more “productive” and as new flowers and herbs join an expanding list of beloved yearly must-haves. (Side note: If you’ve ever humbly approached the glorious sea of snapdragons at Patchwork and tried to walk away without one of every color, you know it’s one of the great challenges of spring!)

Seven years ago, when I first moved to State College, we had two or three porch pots with a few geraniums – great “newbie starter flowers” because they last forever, have big, fat, joyful blooms in all kinds of flamboyant colors, and are easy to care for. Over the years, we added shishitos and jalapenos and all kinds of herbs. (Eucalyptus is so whimsical! Lemongrass gets huge! And picked-right-now basil with some farmers market tomatoes and olive oil? Forget it!)

Our house plant collection grew in proportion to the porch plant party: We traded jade and money plant cuttings with neighbors and visitors and adopted a dragon plant and a philodendron named Queenie when local friends moved to Austin. (Of course, you already know about our inherited aloe plant.)

A new love of foraging joined the gang last spring.

And that brings me to wild violets.

As my relationship with plants grows and my physical space fills up with more and more of them, it has become so fun to go out into the woods (or friends’ back yards!) to find things to bring home and transform into meals or medicine.

We’re lucky to live in an area that makes it so easy to immerse yourself and learn, too. From Centred Outdoors free weekly hikes, picnics, and adventures (check out their schedule and clear your Sundays!) to Briel Beaty’s herbal CSH that provides a monthly basket full of fresh medicinal herbs and flowers to learn about and experiment with, there are countless opportunities to deepen our connection with our local plant friends.

This year, as we were all anxiously watching for the first signs of spring and I was firmly buried under a heavy blanket of grief, this violet vinegar recipe caught my imagination and never left. The idea of foraging for a big bag full of springtime violets (in the sun!) and brewing up that beautiful purple vinegar (with the windows open!) was the little sparkle at the end of the tunnel that I looked to as late winter dragged on and the grief felt extra smother-y.

I had “MAKE WILD VIOLET VINEGAR!” on my to-do list in my phone, so I saw it daily. I checked and double checked the (extremely simple) recipe to ensure I had everything I needed once those little purple flowers with their heart-shaped leaves started popping out of the ground. I daydreamed about the spring salad I was going to make with a violet dressing.

And a few weeks ago, after a friend shared that she had violets popping up all over her yard and invited me to pick what I needed, I finally found myself in my kitchen with a bagful, happily trimming off stems, pouring white balsamic over the flowers, and finding a cozy nook in the cupboard for them to “brew” for 3 weeks.

This coming weekend, we’re smoking a pork shoulder on the grill for sandwiches and will make a salad on the side. Arugula, blueberries, walnuts, radishes, goat cheese, and a much-anticipated wild violet vinaigrette.

I’ll make sure to mix in the dressing by hand.

Pictured: May 1987! My grandmother with my brother (and grandchild #1 keeping a close eye on the whole situation…)