Asparagus is here. It is early, as it was last year. In February 2023, it was declared a record arrival, and this time round it appears that our tender spears have come even sooner, no doubt a result of the climate crisis affecting crops the world over.
It is unusual to see asparagus in Britain midway through February. The Chinn family, who oversee Cobrey Farms in the Wye Valley, is one producer to report ready vegetables. Theirs have already started going into the wholesale market and some branches of M&S.
And last week, I saw a scattering of chefs start to share their hauls on social media. One, Matt Christmas, who runs Chez Bruce in Wandsworth (do visit if you’re able), posted a photo of a tray ready for cooking, their earthy, woody stems peeled neatly, each log a vibrant green.
Brian Clivaz, owner of L’Escargot, one of Soho’s most classic and adorned French bistros, also joined in. Word is that a customer, Ian, is always first in – he sits down at a table by the window as soon as plates of buttered asparagus are cooked and served. A jug of rich hollandaise for dipping is a fitting sidecar.
As much as asparagus excites me – really it does – its increasingly early arrival is also a little unsettling. Traditionally, the season starts on St George’s Day, April 23, but a mixture of modern growing techniques and ever milder winters are altering the agricultural landscape.
Naturally, the farmers and supermarkets are parading their expeditious asparagus with joy. Chris Chinn told the fresh produce journal Fruit Net that he was “delighted” he had managed to pack and sell the vegetable in mid-February. Heather Chapman from M&S called it a “huge step forward”.
But how far will it go? If the asparagus season is perpetually drawn out, the vegetable will lose its momentousness: for food fans, asparagus coming into season is an event, one of the most exuberant and noble vegetables and – at least once upon a time – one that was a flash in the pan, a fleeting grace. Sex is great, but you don’t want it to go on too long, do you? It gets tiring and it’s important to stay hydrated.
The point is, I love seeing the first batches of asparagus on shelves – but in spring, with the daffodils, not in winter when we should all still be eating butternut squash. Consumers want choice year-round. I get that. And to have British vegetables available is better than flying them in. I heard not so long ago that China is now the world’s biggest producer, which is somehow surprising and unsurprising at the same time. But perhaps rather than pumping money into stretching the season, we should instead concentrate efforts on encouraging people to eat what’s available here, and when. Peas in the summer, mushrooms in the autumn. That sort of thing.
I realise I risk sounding boring, also a little facetious. A dreamer. In the grand scheme of things, asparagus arriving early doors is hardly a pressing concern. But it is, in part, an indicator of the perils to come: the environment is changing, our food system is fragile, and while asparagus is doing well – so too British sparkling wine, let’s remember – a warming world means other foods aren’t.
Important stuff like grains will become more insecure and, as far as sustainability goes, changing seas mean fish are suffering (sushi fans, tuck in now, before it’s too late – it’s only going to get more expensive).
I suppose there is nothing left to do but eat asparagus. For now, anyway. And then we can fashion our ample supplies into life rafts when the floods come.
