back 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 does corn.
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