by Liz
Once upon a time, many people in the US grew at least some portion of their own food. They ate what was grown nearby, according to the seasons of the year. Staples like flour, sugar, dry goods and spices were always readily available, but the fresh produce of the moment was determined by the season of the year. It would have been unheard of to have access to asparagus in February; asparagus is a spring food, meant to be eaten in large quantities when the tender shoots emerged from the patch in your backyard. Not to mention, the backyard asparagus is basically free compared to that $6 asparagus from the organic market.
Since the advent of the industrial revolution, we have been straying from our agricultural heritage, and have turned to much more energy-intensive methods of food production. Instead of small, diverse farms peppering the landscape, the majority of our food today is grown on mega-farms not limited to corn and soy. Monocultures of tomatoes, spinach and carrots stretch as far as the eye can see in certain parts of California, dependent on large machinery, petrochemical-based fertilizers and pesticides, farm subsidies, cheap migrant labor and cross-country refrigerated trucking. Is this the kind of food system to be proud of?
Some say "yes", that American ingenuity has brought us a system that keeps us awash in the nutritional benefits of a variety of inexpensive fruits and vegetables year-round. But at what cost? And how nutritious, exactly? Produce sections of major grocery stores look the same day after day, month after month. Once you walk through those automatic doors, you'd be hard pressed to tell what season it currently is based on the available produce. On a trip to the supermarket on a snowy February day in Maine, we spied melons, strawberries and corn on the cob among other misplaced fruits and veggies. Looking at the peaked specimens that have traveled from half a country or world away, the reports of nutrient loss make perfect sense. You wonder if you're almost better off going without that sorry excuse for a vegetable that has endured a several thousand mile trip on top of so many other insults.
So what can the intrepid vegetable eater do? If you're reading this blog, it's clear that you've decided to explore seasonal eating. It's not easy at first... we've strayed so far from our agricultural roots that we have lost the knowledge of what's in season when. How can anyone be expected to know that cucumbers are a summer food when in every supermarket across the country, a mountain of cucumbers is available 365 days a year? And carrots in the fall? What about those "baby" carrots that school kids much on every day of every week? A wealth of cultural information has been lost as we've become the nation where everyone eats Washington apples, and everyone eats California strawberries. Maine grows delicious apples and strawberries, as does Michigan and New Jersey, and just about every other state for that matter, but they're only available for a short, fleeting part of the calender. Although, when you get them at their peak, you are guaranteed that they taste far better than the imported stuff.
As you eat your way through the calendar, you find yourself focusing intensely on each fruit or vegetable as they become available. In the spring, asparagus and baby lettuce are followed by rhubarb, peas, and strawberries. There is never time to get bored with an ever-changing and colorful seasonal diet. And by spending a little bit of time to source out local, seasonal ingredients, each meal becomes more special: by supporting local growers, your dollars stay in the community, you eat fresher food, and you get to thumb your nose at agri-business.
To me, this is part of the appeal of a seasonal diet.
Luckily, eating seasonally and locally gets easier the more you do it, and if you are equipped with a good resource like Simply in Season by Mary Beth Lind and Cathleen Hockman-Wert (Herald Press, 2005).
Simply in Season opens with a "Fruit and Vegetable Guide", with tips on what to look for, how to store each kind of produce, and seasonal availability. Color-coded and organized by season, the cookbook begins with Spring, and ends with All Seasons, which includes season-less recipes that feature always available meats, legumes, grains and dairy. Each season's recipes are organized by type (salad, main dish, etc) and each chapter ends with several sample menus and "Invitations to Action": small beneficial changes you can make to your lifestyle such as visiting the farmers market, converting some of your lawn to garden, learning to preserve food, and seeking out fair trade products, among others. Nearly every page has a tip, quote or statistic about the food system in North America or how to treat the earth respectfully. These short anecdotes give you something to ponder while your dish is cooking.
The recipes are easy to follow, budget-minded, and don't contain any exotic ingredients. There's even a good balance of meat and vegetarian dishes, in fact, tofu and tempeh show up as main ingredients about a dozen times. The glossary also contains a short guide to "alternative proteins" which could help educate folks who have never encountered things like seitan before. Each chapter also has recipes for "extras" like jams and chutneys, pesto, pizza sauce, sauerkraut, yogurt, baking mix, granola and hummus, the kind of things that can save a home cook a lot of money. And really, if you haven't made your own yogurt from local milk yet, you really ought to give it a try.
This is certainly not a militant local foods cookbook, nor should it be. The emphasis is on reclaiming our seasonal traditions: fresh tomatoes in the summer, canned in the winter; fresh corn in the summer, frozen in the winter; peas and spinach in spring, winter squash and root vegetables in the autumn and winter.
Since I got the book, I've been cooking my way through the Autumn and Winter chapters: the Marrakesh Lamb Stew has become a new favorite, making good use of root vegetables from my garden and local grass-fed lamb, the Pumpkin Sausage Pasta was savory and filling, the Black Bean Sweet Potato Burritos make a great family meal (only I used butternut squash), and the Apple Praline Pie was the perfect use for the last of our local apples. I look forward to the summer when I'll try the Eggplant Burgers with eggplant and basil from my own garden, and any of the dozen and a half zucchini recipes will come in handy to deal with the inevitable zucchini glut.
You may never have to eat another seasonally misplaced vegetable again.
Cross-posted at Groovy Green.
Liz lives in Maine on Pocket Farm where, once the rain stops and the mud recedes, she grows all the vegetables two people and six ducks can eat in her garden.
