At the end of this month (April) one see the points of asparagus emerge, something which brings a great consolation to those who, tired of potatoes and dried cereals, long for something green. This vegetable, always dear in Paris, and only seemly for the rich because it is not very substantial and somewhat aphrodisiacal, is a very delicate food. The large stalks, cooked in water, are served to be eaten either with a white sauce or with oil. The small ones are served like peas to deceive our hopes and calm our impatience. But so soon as real peas come in one does not dare present them in this guise. It is thus that a beauty with the aid of fine lighting, having stolen our praises flees at the prospect dawn for she dares not risk comparison with an Hebe (young woman) of just eighteen springs. – Grimod de la Reyniere