There were other
times that I knew were special and profound. I didn't have the words
at the time to express what I felt, but raspberries from the lady
up the street who had raspberry bushes, avocados with lime and sugar
in late winter, and rhubarb compote every spring made me associate
certain foods with certain times of the year. The eating of them
seemed unique and special, and now, with an adult view of the past,
I know that they truly were.
This association has been my ally in seasonal
eating. My paternal grandmother called herself a
"berry picker". She would be full of joy as each
wild, seasonal ingredient was ready to harvest. Wild
garlic and fiddleheads in the spring, strawberries
and raspberries in the summer, milkweed pods,
cat-tails, wild asparagus - nothing escaped her
watchful forager's eye. I am grateful I was able to
help her gather this incredible and natural bounty.
Fortunately, I was never a picky eater.
There are no good reasons for fresh tomatoes in
winter or oysters in summer. Why? Tomatoes just
don't taste right and oysters are milky and
spawning. Salmon and halibut have their season, as