Writer Liza Kate Boisineau waxes poetic about the experience of eating ramps at Dinamo restaurant. Excerpt from her article:

I had just eaten a beautiful dish of ramp pesto with handmade tagliatelle, but I could feel the warmth coursing through my veins before the very first bite hit my mouth. And what a hit it was! I might have some bruising, but I had waited for one long, lonely year to have the dish again and it was worth waiting for.
When I first tried Dinamo’s ramp pesto last year, my eyes closed involuntarily and I was transported to an oniony, garlicky, green-tasting galaxy somewhere between the Earth’s core and some star cluster yet undiscovered. The sounds around me melted together and for a brief moment, my whole world was smooth and comforting and right.
Something akin to magic was happening to my body, maybe to my aura too, and I wished for even my worst enemy to have this experience at least once in their miserable life.