March always feels like a shift.
Not quite spring.
Not quite winter.
But something is undeniably changing.
There’s a looseness in the air. The days stretch a little further. Markets start to look more colourful. And the ingredients begin to move from storage and endurance toward freshness and life again.
Theres an anticipation about March, It’s the first real signs that the year is waking up.
We’ve built our March menus around that feeling. Brightness creeping back in, greens pushing through, the sea still cold and clean.
These are three ingredients that define this moment for Bohémien.
Wild Garlic
There’s something about wild garlic that feels ceremonial.
Every March, without fail, I go out and forage it. Not because it’s trendy but because it marks the turning of the season more clearly than anything else. Its become a ritual that i always stick too, partly for the ingredient & partly because taking a day to yourself to be in & amongst nature is genuinely therapeutic.
It grows in damp woodland, thick and generous, the scent unmistakable before you even see it. Fresh, sharp, green. Alive. Its pretty hard to miss.
Wild garlic isn’t subtle. It doesn’t whisper like chives or gently round out a dish like leeks. It announces itself, sometimes in a very heavy handed way. But handled properly, it brings brightness rather than aggression.
Folded through butter.
Blended into a sauce.
Wilted gently into greens.
It has that rare ability to wake up heavier winter dishes without making them feel forced into spring.
Every year, I get sackfulls of the green stuff & preserve it in several ways. Wild garlic butter, oil, pesto or powder, anyway to savour this march delicacy throughout the year.
For me, foraging it each year is less about the ingredient itself and more about rhythm. Cooking in tune with what’s actually growing, not what’s available year-round in plastic.
Purple Sprouting Broccoli
If February belongs to roots and brassicas built for endurance, March belongs to their more elegant cousins.
Purple sprouting broccoli is one of the first vegetables that feels genuinely fresh again. Tender stems, delicate leaves, and that distinctive iron-rich bitterness that balances beautifully with fat and acid.
It doesn’t need much.
High heat.
Proper seasoning.
Maybe a squeeze of lemon or a spoon of browned butter.
Cooked carefully, it keeps a slight bite and a vibrancy that feels completely different from winter’s slower, heavier vegetables.
its also, unlike other multicolour foods ( I’m looking at you rainbow coloured carrots) this actually as a unique flavour beyond simply tasting of broccoli.
On March 7th at Snails Deli, we’re serving it alongside almond-crusted trout. The nuttiness of the almonds and the richness of the fish benefit from something clean and slightly bitter to cut through. Purple sprouting broccoli does that effortlessly.
Clams
March is still cold water season, and cold water makes for clean, sweet shellfish.
Clams at this time of year are tight, briny, and deeply mineral. Like any great seafood, they don’t need complicated preparation. Just heat, a little wine, perhaps some shallot and butter. Let them open & release their juices, season them properly & you won’t go far wrong.
There’s something deeply satisfying about cooking clams. The transformation is immediate.
Served properly, they bring the sea to the table without theatrics. Besides, I never serve shellfish that’s still encased in its shell. I don’t like the idea of my guests fighting to get to their food & I don’t believe in serving anything my guests can’t actually eat!
On March 19th at Môr, we’re serving a fricassée of clams alongside poached cod. The cod is gentle and soft, the clams bring salinity and a handful of chopped herbs bring everything together, they feel exactly right for this point in the year.
They’re winter-adjacent.
But moving forward.
Why March Matters
March is about transition.
Wild garlic pushing through woodland floors.
Purple sprouting broccoli standing tall and bright.
Cold-water shellfish at their cleanest.
These ingredients quietly signal change.
They remind you that cooking isn’t static. It moves with the year, whether you choose to pay attention or not.
At Bohémien, that rhythm matters.
Seasonal ingredients.
Used when they’re at their best.
Cooked properly.
Given room to do their job.
March feels hopeful. Not in a loud way. In a steady one.
And if you cook with what’s actually happening around you, that hope naturally finds its way onto the plate.
Tom
Chef & Owner, Bohémien
