slow food nations 157I asked about his eggs, “From chickens, madame.”) We were fl at- out
amazed to see what enterprising Quebecois growers had managed to
bring out already, on the fi rst offi cial day of summer here in the recently
frozen north: asparagus, carrots, lettuce, rhubarb, hothouse tomatoes,
and small, sweet strawberries. Maple syrup and countless other maple
products were also abundant, of course, here where a maple leaf is liter-
ally the fl ag. More surprising were the local apples, plenty of them, that
had been stored since their harvest late last fall but still burst sweet and
crisp under our teeth when we sampled them. En glish orchardists once
prized certain apples for their late- bearing and good storage qualities—
varieties now mostly lost from the British Isles, crowded out by off- season
imports from New Zealand. Evidently the good storage heirlooms have
not been lost from Quebec.
I picked up a gargantuan head of broccoli. It looked too good to be
true, but the cabbage family are cool- season crops. I asked the vendor
where it came from.
“L’Amérique du Sud, madame,” he replied. South America.
Too bad, I thought. But really, South America, where it’s either tropi-
cal or now wintertime? “Quel pays?” I asked him—which country?
“La Californie, madame.”
I laughed. It was a natural mistake. In the world map of produce, Cali-
fornia might as well be its own country. A superpower in fact, one state
that exports more fresh produce than most countries of the world. If not
for the fossil fuels involved, this culinary export could have filled me with
patriotic pride. Our country is not only arches and cowboy hats, after all.
We just don’t get credit for this as “American food” because vegetables are
ingredients. The California broccoli would be diced into Asian stir- fries,
tossed with Italian pasta primavera, or served with a bowl of mac- and-
cheese, according to the food traditions of us housewives.
Still, whether we get cultural points for them or not, those truckloads
of California broccoli and artichokes bring winter cheer and vitamins to
people in drearier climes all over the world. From now until September
the Quebecois would have local options, but in February, when the snow
is piled up to the windowsills and it takes a heating pad on the engine