Chicago is notorious for many things, one of which being its numerous micro seasons. There seem to be many shades and flavors of spring, summer and fall. Winter curiously has its hand in most of them. We are often forced to submit to the whims of our city, its climate and temperature undulating seemingly at random, bringing snow flurries in May or a searing heat wave smack dab in the middle of October.
One of my favorites is what I affectionately call Second Spring, not to be confused with Fool’s Spring or Spring of Deception, which typically occur in March and April, respectively.
Second Spring seems to arrive at exactly the right time, when we’re reeling from the sun-drenched frenzy of summer, but not quite ready to admit it’s all over. The chill in the air brings relief, quickly swallowed by dread of what’s to come.
It is not the same thing as fall, however. I equate fall with reds and yellows, apples, squash, pumpkins, persimmons. Warm golden days and chilly nights. Second spring is, well, a second…spring. As many of our peak summer plants are starting to wane, but before we start the endless months of root vegetables, the weather cools just enough to send a flush of new growth of earlier plants. Even at the farmers market, strawberries and raspberries reappear like a mirage.
As an herbalist, florist, and pastry chef who works with the medicinal plants that grow abundantly in the Chicago area, it’s an especially sweet time of year. The plants are beat down from the heat and gone to seed, and I’m exhausted from being out there with them, trying to maximize our short but glorious growing season.
Ask any chef at your favorite restaurant: my bet is they’re not exactly mourning the end of patio season. For a split second of time, we get a second run with any herbalists’ favorite spring plants: stinging nettles, chickweed, purple dead nettle, dandelion, to name a few. These weeds are revered for being nutritional powerhouses, packed with all the vitamins and minerals needed to replenish our stores after a long winter. Or, to send us off into it. It feels like the earth is giving us one last boost of sustenance before entering the deep pause of winter.

And metaphorically, it delivers a poetic message – that every ending has the opportunity to be a fresh start. Decay always becomes life-giving compost for what’s to come. And that Chicago will do whatever she wants.
Here is a recipe that’s wonderful to bridge the gap between summer and fall. It has a bright, verdant flavor thanks to stinging nettle, lime, and matcha, and is also full of minerals and vitamins to bolster us before chillier times – I mean, it’s still cake, but let’s acknowledge eating our leafy greens when we can. It’s perfect for new beginnings, celebrations, and ordinary mornings at home.
As the name implies, stinging nettles do in fact sting. However, when dried or cooked, the stinging compound is deactivated. You can find stinging nettles when in season at the farmers market. Although the flavor is not as complex, spinach is a perfectly good substitute.