Some people might call me fickle or a fairweather foodie.
Whatever is being harvested at any given moment is my favourite thing to eat and convinces me that particular season is the most wonderful time of year.
I gush about asparagus in spring. Strawberries soon after. Cherries to start summer. Peaches, oh yes peaches, to make me swoon for most of hot weather. And wait, there are grapes to make late summer fantastic, even if it’s the segue into fall. And how about blackberries in late August? Or those early arrivals among apples and the first squash that make me pout just a little less when summer bids adieu for another year?
Then there’s cabbage. And kale, which, lucky for me, comes just about all year in my CSA baskets. Thank you hardy green — and yes, you, too, leafy mustards. You make the most awful depths of winter bearable, if not quite my favourite time of year.
Really, I think my serial monogamy with every harvest is a sign of gratitude more than me being unfaithful to the fruit or veggie of yester-jour.
Through it all, though, there is one harvest that remains my sentimental favourite. It wouldn’t be fall on this blog without me showing some love for the Kieffer pear, that much-maligned, misunderstood urban fruit that makes longtime farmers cringe and chuckle all at once.