A Year of Local Produce

My mom remembers when food started tasting different: beef went from grass-fed to corn-fed, apples lost their flavor, everything became waxier and bigger and more uniform. Not surprisingly, I never enjoyed produce like pears or grapes in the States. Coming here was a revelation. It took me awhile to get used to dirt-covered, blemished produce, but now I love finding slugs in my cauliflower. It means my food is wholesome, the flavor uncorrupted; everything's going to taste the way it's supposed to. Waiting months for my favorites to come back in season makes me appreciate them that much more! 

Anyway, I've gotten a few questions asking where I buy the purple potatoes. They're called vitelotte and I get them at Joël Thiébault's market stand. He's at Rue Gros on Thursdays from 7-2 and Avenue President Wilson on Saturdays. Real French people usually only eat them once a year or so, but we have them once a week because they're closer to ancient tubers, domesticated by the Incas on an Andean altiplano. The first cultivar was blue, and Incas grew a whole rainbow from pink to yellow and orange in all shapes and sizes. Faced with the challenge of farming a vertical surface, they bred different strains so plants grown next to each other wouldn't have to compete the way they do in a monoculture. Different, complementary neighbors thrive in different planes of sunshine, soak up water from different root levels, and overall capture more resources than would be possible under same-species competition. The resulting yields were impressive and resistant to disease or weather changes- an increasingly rare feat in our polyculture-deprived world.

Click here for a Paris market guide.