It was the spring of shutdowns, when school halls fell silent and kitchens became classrooms. While their peers logged into Zoom, Owen and Julien stepped outside—into the woods and got to work. The two middle schoolers began foraging wild ramps from the forest floor—those elusive, pungent, leafy greens that send chefs into a frenzy each spring.
Searching for a home and chefs to bestow their treasures, the duo cleaned their ramps and headed to Bernard’s. “The restaurant wasn’t open—we were doing takeout only,” recalls Sarah Bouissou, who, at the time, owned Bernard’s and Sarah’s Wine Bar with her husband, Chef Bernard. “They came to us with these beautifully cleaned ramps. And every year since, when the ramps are ripe, they call.”
Five seasons later, the tradition continues—Owen and Julien, now high schoolers, still harvest the woods like pros, delivering their haul to Bernard and Sarah’s new venture, À Table. This season alone, they’ve sold 35 pounds of ramps to Sarah and Bernard. “We’ve probably purchased 100 pounds from them over the years,” Sarah says with admiration. “They’re putting money away for college.”
À Table transforms the boys’ harvest into an ephemeral lineup of dishes: ramp pesto, potato ramp soup, braised ramps, ramp fricassée. Sarah calls the vegetables “hyper-seasonal”. “One month and they’re done. Get them while you can.” Meaning - NOW!
BTW: ramps, for the uninitiated, are wild leeks—part of the allium family, kin to garlic and onion. Found in the damp, shady corners of North American forests, they carry a bold, garlicky flavor and a cult-like following among chefs and foragers alike.
Here, we sit down with the local farmers to find out what seeds their annual harvest. So yes, spring is fleeting. But in the short window between mud and bloom, Owen and Julien return to the woods, where their quiet labor sustains a tradition—and feeds a community, one ramp at a time.
Q: What first inspired you to forage ramps?
A: The first thing that inspired us to pick ramps was the Hickories farm in Ridgefield. They explained to Julian what ramps were and how you can pick them. Then the next day, after we all tasted them and saw how good they were, we met up at Julian's house, came up with the idea and started calling restaurants!
A: Exactly where we find our Ramps has been sworn to secrecy, but we can tell you that you can normally find them in marshy-ish areas near a stream or pond. The area generally can’t be too dry, but also can't be too wet. Many of you could probably find them in your backyard if you looked hard enough. Picking the ramps is simple. We use shovels and pick the bulbs, the roots, the stems, and the leaves all on one clump.
Q: How has your relationship with Chef Bernard and Sarah evolved over the years—from that first sale to now?
A: Our relationship between Chef Bernard and Sarah has always been very good, and we think that it has definitely gotten better as the years go by. The first few years, they probably only bought from us because we were young, local kids, but as the years went on, Sarah and Bernard have counted on us to bring upwards of 20 pounds a week! Over the past five years, we came out of our shell and we are now comfortable talking to them - and other restaurant owners, of course.
Q: How do you divide the work between the two of you—from harvesting to cleaning and preparing the ramps for sale?
A: Everything we do is 50/50. Everything we pick, clean, prepare, and how much money we ultimately make is divided 50/50. Sometimes, if one of us is super busy one week, if one had to pick more one week, then the other would pick more the following week.
Q: With college on the horizon, do you see yourselves continuing this seasonal tradition, or is this your final harvest?
A: We definitely see ourselves doing this at least one more season. We really enjoy this small business we have going on and we would love to keep it going. While we hope to go to at least Julian's junior year of high school and Owen's senior year, we are unsure whether to continue. Julian can’t really see himself doing this solo. However, you never really know what the future holds.
So yes, spring is fleeting. But in the short window between mud and bloom, Owen and Julien return to the woods, where their quiet labor sustains a tradition—and feeds a community, one ramp at a time.