On Seasonal Recipes
Raising questions on the meaning of “local”, “seasonal”, and the contradictions they bring
I try to live my life as consciously as possible, or as consciously as my mental health allows. I try to shop local, go to the farmers’ market when it’s around and avoid overconsumption, purchasing things when they are needed rather than following trends or sales.
This can be done to a certain extend if you still want to live in society, as going against the current can be very draining. The contradictions are everywhere: shoes bought in my walk down the neighbourhood that have been produced in India in less-than optimal conditions, spices from a fair-trade shop that were shipped from the other side of the word and cooked in a non-sustainable pan… One cannot really win.
One of these contradictions are seasonal produce and recipes.
said it really well in her essay: Looking for Love (Seasonal Produce) in all the Wrong Places (the Supermarket), published last February 14:“To shop in the produce section at a supermarket is to enter one long season that's gaslit. There are the old standards, the fruits that the general US population must never be without. And then there's something else, displayed with signage denoting its special status, but that isn't seasonally appropriate for the region. Often pineapple, mango, or kiwi. Perhaps pineapple is in season in Indonesia, the top producer. Am I shopping seasonally if it's another country's season I'm enjoying?”
The idea of seasonality is very foreign for most people. There’s availability of everything, all the time. Pineapples, next to potatoes, tomatoes, pears, turnips, kiwis and avocados. Where does it all come from? When are these things in season?
If you make a pineapple cake in January while living in Boston, are you cooking seasonally? Most people will agree that you are not, but what if you make it on June? Pineapples don’t grow in Massachusetts but they do in Florida, where their high season is between May and June. Is the same country enough to call something local? That was a question Devin K. also asked herself: “Words like "local" and "seasonal" mean something specific, damnit! And to the grocery stores that use "seasonal" and "local" as marketing tactics without delivering on the promise, you're not fooling anyone.”
According to the The Food, Conservation and Energy Act of 2008, set by the committee of Agriculture and Foreign Affairs in the United States, “locally grown” is defined as “being transported less than 400 miles, or from within the state in which it is produced”. 400 miles from Boston — where I live — englobes all New England, part of Pensilvania and down to New Jersey, Delaware and Maryland; as well as some small portions of the states of Quebec and Ottawa in Canada. Neither Florida, nor California.
But are you still eating seasonally if you buy something from a different climate if its within that 400 miles radius from where you live? 400 miles from Barcelona — my hometown— is Turin, Italy, but also Setif, Algeria. The produce in season in those two locations is going to look very different. However, according to the previous definition, they are both “local” to a Barcelona resident.
I started this reflection after reading Devin K.’s essay and after questioning if it was a good idea to share an egg-based recipe in my newsletter when we were experiencing an egg shortage in the US.
For the ones of you not aware of this, “egg prices rose more than 10% from January to February as a bird flu outbreak continues to hurt the nation’s poultry supply and some grocery chains limit egg purchases” (Molly Bohannon for Forbes). And on February 25th, the Department of Agriculture released a report predicting a higher rise of a 41.1% in 2025, because of the “volatile month-to-month changes”.
Consumers, like me, have experienced supermarkets with row after row empty where time before they used to house egg cartons. Others, have signs on the fridge screens asking not to take more than two dozens per person. During his campaign in early fall, Donald Trump blamed the Biden administration for inflation and promised to bring the prices down once he was elected president. Well, it doesn’t seem that with his strategy of starting a tariff war that will happen, more likely quite the opposite. Also, culling birds in infected stocks is a policy of the Department of Agriculture, and Trump is also obliged to follow.
But the blame is neither on Trump not Biden, as egg producer Frank Hilliker told Vanessa Yurkevich, reporting for the CNN: “There is nothing Biden could have done to stop the bird flu. There is nothing President Trump could have done to stop the bird flu – it’s neither of their faults”. The fault, many experts think, it’s in the system. In intensive farming that encloses thousands of animals in a confined space, where diseases spread like fire.
Compassion in World Farming (CIWF), a campaign group advocating for animal wellbeing, are very clear about it in their most recent report:
“A wide range of studies show that the stressful, crowded conditions of industrial animal farming contribute to the emergence, spread and severity of bacterial and viral infections. Biosecurity measures, such as restricting farm access and disinfecting areas, are currently relied on by governments and industry to tackle bird flu. But while biosecurity is important, EFSA reports show that it is not enough to stop this disease in its tracks. Biosecurity does not tackle the root of the problem.
A fundamental change in approach, supported by a clear strategy agreed by governments and industry, is needed to tackle bird flu. Otherwise, we could face repeated, devastating outbreaks for years to come, making an eventual highly destructive spread to humans more likely. Consequently, governments should consider offering financial support to farms that are willing to adapt, close down or relocate to areas with few poultry farms.”
The solution seems simple enough: to try to purchase eggs from extensive farms that have a higher control on the animal diseases —and make sure they live in dignified conditions— as the animals are in a low-density setting. This would be a farm from your community, probably not local as per the previous definition, but one that you can drive to in less than an hour.
Where I live, these kinds of farms exist. But weeks ago, when I was preparing to start cooking, researching and photo-shooting my March’s recipe for My Cup of Tea, I had second thoughts. I wanted to talk about Crema Catalana, the Catalan version of a Creme Brûlée (some may say “the original version”) that I love and it’s specially eaten for Sant Josep —March 19, also father’s day in Catalonia—, but it’s mostly made of eggs.
I could find eggs in cooperative centers where they sell produce from neighbouring farms, so I had means to make the recipe. But could my readers do the same? And, was the recipe less seasonal because of that?
I like connecting the dishes I talk about to their historical and geographical context. It being New England dishes that I am starting to learn about and I research to share with you, or recipes from my Catalan heritage. This is why I carefully plan what to publish each month in this newsletter. Crema Catalana was not only perfect for the beginning of March because it linked with the tradition of Sant Josep, but also because in Catalonia it was historically made with the excess of eggs and milk animals produced with the awakening of spring.
I was willing to forgo that spring arrives later in Boston than it does in Barcelona, but to share an egg-based recipe to a mostly American audience that is experiencing egg-shortage seemed to mess with my narrative; and with my ethics. Would I have had the same consideration if my readership was the same but I was living in Catalonia? I am not sure of the answer.
This is the recipe I decided to share instead. It was still connected to the time-frame, as it has links with Lent, and it’s really tasty (and vegan). Though, it still requires us to be open-minded with the term “seasonal” as it asks for almond milk, sugar, true cinnamon, rice and lemons. These products were available in Middle Ages’ Catalonia and they are also available in 2025 Boston, but most of them are imported.
Arròs amb Llet d’Ametlla (Vegan)
Yesterday marked the first day of Lent. Although I am not religious, the history of this dish is closely linked to this Christian tradition.
The globalised Internet gives us the chance to share insights and food stories with people from everywhere. I love reading
talk about West African food in No Plantains Left Behind and sharing her Sri Lankan recipes in , but rather than the recipes per se, what interests me is to discover ingredients and traditions that I didn’t know of; to dive into the food stories that connect them with their heritage.Maybe we don’t need to have everything, all the time. As Devin K. says: “I'm sure there's an internal list of what must be on sale at all times at supermarkets, and by God, it's there—rain or shine, season or no season. If this strikes one as desperate and grasping—rather than abundant—that's because it is, as well as destructive.”
But where should we draw the line? Is it ok to purchase rice and sugar beyond the 400 miles radius? Should we just stick to the vegetables and fruits that are grown in our community? Is it ok to accept imported items with the idea that trade has shaped the history of humanity? Or is that getting into the capitalist game of dissociation and overconsumption?
As I said, we live in a contradictory world, and sometimes, the only thing we can do, is to pose questions to ourselves.
So, I ask you, what is a seasonal recipe to you? Do you take into account the seasonality of where you live? The seasonality of your audience? And the availability of your ingredients? I’d love to read your thoughts!
Local and seasonal to me are driven by wild foods I can harvest and what I can get from farmers near me. There isn't much of a contradiction. I can harvest or buy what is truly in season. The [deer] burger and [bear] ham that I eat came from 15 miles from me or less. I lived in cities earlier in life and knew seasons of food in passing and by reading. Having lived in rural areas for the last 30 years and foraging, angling and hunting for much of what I eat, local and seasonal are what I know. It's interesting that in this part of rural Maine, the only egg shortage I notice is at Walmart, where large eggs were $7.45 when I last looked. Yet this is the season where farm eggs overwhelm the farmers after the dark winter. $4-5 a dozen for local eggs is the going rate. And most of those farmers are on social media pushing the eggs because they have too many. In December here, eggs were hard to find. Not because of Avian flu but because chickens don't lay eggs without lights!
It's important to question our notions of seasonal and local as you've done here. While governments and institutions use metrics like mileage, it is such a broad data point that falls apart under any real scrutiny, as you've shown.
Each ingredient has its own story, and if we don't know that story, it's hard to evaluate if the recipe it is a part of is seasonal. If you can trace that story, the time of year the ingredients are grown and available, and where/who grew it, that is a big piece towards cooking more seasonally.
I have a forthcoming article showing how I do this step by step within the next few weeks.
Great article with some thought provoking questions here! Especially on the ethics of suggesting ingredients affected by price hikes. While avian flu is a real concern, there are companies along the supply chain that will take advantage of a narrative to price hike...whereas local producers will be more reasonable.