I woke up this morning dreaming about trout and fiddleheads. I swear I could smell the brookies cooking. Fact: It's January, 20 below and snowing. Dream: May...Fish along an icy brook for a few 8 inch trout and then fill a creel with fiddleheads. Head home... cold, wet and hungry to cook up this "rite of spring" meal. Four more months.