On Seasonality + Eating in the Now
On Seasonality + Eating in the Now
Enjoying what’s available, when it’s available.
One of the real pleasures of living in New England is that you really, truly, are able to appreciate the seasons1. There is really nothing quite like the first warm day coming out of a long, dark winter2. Much like stick season is a signal to retreat to comfort, to warmth, spring is a season of regrowth3, renewal4. Spring call for fresh ingredients, for brightness, for levity.
Much to my own chagrin, I’ve recently started listening to podcasts again5. I was recently listening to
and riffing on spring in an episode of . In it, they referenced, among other topics, an article in the New York Times article about Japanese strawberries. In Japan, the “first-of-the-season,” the hatsumono, batch of produce is the most prized, most valued. The first run of strawberries are given as gifts6, and that first run of strawberries — where producers can get exorbitant prices — is getting pushed earlier and earlier each year. Whereas strawberries are traditionally a summer fruit, the Japanese season now peaks in December7!We do most of our grocery shopping on Saturdays. Typically I’ll hit our local farm8 first, pick up what I can, and then fill in the gaps at Whole Foods. It’s always remarkable seeing the difference in produce between the two. Powisett stocks only produce grown on the farm9 and there are definitely no strawberries in the winter. Before the “growing season,” it’s mostly root vegetables: carrots, turnips, onions, potatoes, and sweet potatoes. Things that can be stored when nothing is growing. Only in the late spring and summer, after the first harvest, can you walk through the farm store and see a bounty of fresh vegetables and fruit, covered in dirt, fresh from the ground10.
At Whole Foods, on the other hand, you can get your strawberries in December (and November and January and…). You can grab fresh fruits, fresh vegetables, whatever your heart desires, any time of year11. You can get asparagus in January, summer squash in February, tomatoes in March. There’s a cornucopia of options year round.
There’s something to be said about eating with the seasons. Grab a tomato off the grocery store shelf throughout most of the year and take a bite. It’s bland, tasteless, the texture is off. Growing up, I didn’t like tomatoes; I think it’s probably because I rarely had a good one. But have a tomato fresh off the vine, in July or August, and you’re biting into something truly special. They burst with flavor; juicy, ripe. This is a sword I will die on: there is no better fruit than a freshly picked tomato12. Even in Japan, people are starting to realize that those strawberries, forcefully grown out of season, just don’t taste as good.
Here in New England, we’re not quite at the point where we have garden-fresh produce ready to eat, but that isn’t to say we’re not getting close. At the CWD Ranch, we’re watching our seedlings start to mature, noticing the hydrangeas start to bud, seeing the daffodils blooms. We have radishes and greens in the garden, getting ready to eat. The air is warming, anticipation rising. It’s a fun time of year, filled with promise.
Of course, things can turn on a dime. It can be (and was, last week) 78 degrees and sunny one day and 48 and rainy the next. It’s times like this you need to be flexible with your meals. Take advantage when you can — pick ramps and mushrooms when you find them — but also be ready to pivot back to the pantry.
With that in mind, I’m not going to prescribe a recipe this week. Get inspired by where you are. What’s the weather like? What’s in season? Take a stop at the farmer’s market this weekend, talk to the folks behind the table. What are they making? What are they avoiding? Are they especially inspired by anything? Cook with intuition, with creativity, and with the lightness that spring really calls for. You’ll have more fun that way.
If you truly can’t figure out what you want to make, here are some ideas from the archives. After that, I’ll leave you with some imagery from a Massachusetts spring. Get outside this weekend, walk around barefoot, and don’t take yourself too seriously.
Weather warm, veggies fresh? Try Ranch Chicken and Buttermilk-Feta Salad.
Cold days, warm heart? Roasted Veggies and Smoked Chuck13.
Need to pull something from the pantry14? Tuna Melts or Fish Stew.
You’re just craving pasta, but don’t want Kraft? Spaghetti a la Murakami.
This is not a knock on the South, where I grew up — there’s something to be said about being able to complain about lows in the 50s in January!
Kiddo, in fact, took advantage of a 50 degree day in February to run around nearly naked outside.
There’s no one who writes better about this than
and his newsletter , of course.I recently saw something wondering if pagan and animist societies had ideas of rebirth or reincarnation because they saw the world being reborn in the early days of spring. Looking at the grass, the trees, flowers reemerging from their barren winter forms — surely that looked like life after death. Why wouldn’t humans be the same?
This is after adamantly being “not a podcast guy” for the last two years or so. What I’ve determined is I don’t like the “typical” podcast format, where the host is interviewing someone they are just meeting for the first time. I’d rather read that interview. But, what I do like, and what Central Division does well, is listening to two dudes, with background and familiarity, just having a conversation that is roughly centered around a topic, but is free to ebb and flow as the conversation needs. I love tangents — and most podcasts seem afraid to go down them. I suppose what I should really listen to is talk radio, but if tell anyone that’s what I listen to in the car, then I can no longer pretend to be sophisticated.
Japanese gift giving culture is pretty intense.
It’s gotten to the point where there’s an environmental impact, because it forces strawberries to be grown in greenhouses, using gas-powered heaters. Apparently Japan doesn’t even have domestic strawberries in the summer now — they’re all imported!
Powisset Farm, for those wondering.
And other local farms as well.
We’re CSA members, so we don’t actually pick out most of our produce.
I’m not, by any means, complaining here — what an amazing bounty we have access to, something unavailable for most of humanity right up until about 50 years ago!
Just ask Kiddo CWD, who loves tomatoes from our garden but refuses them from the store. I suppose we’re raising a food snob!
You don't have to. I couldn't keep it to myself.
But only because my shoes without socks were chipping my toenail polish.
And I most likely will gift the watermelon to myself.