History Daily - Saturday Matinee: The History of Fresh Produce

Episode Date: August 30, 2025

On today’s Saturday Matinee, we head to the garden to dig into the surprising history of one of the most fascinating vegetables: asparagus. Link to The History of Fresh Produce: https://historyoffreshproduce.substack.com/ Support the show! Join Into History for ad-free listening and more. History Daily is a co-production of Airship and Noiser.Go to HistoryDaily.com for more history, daily.

I love to cook. From scrambling an egg from my daughter in the morning to an elaborate multi-course celebration dinner, the planning, preparation, and execution of a meal done well is a great thrill for me. But though my knife skills are impressive, and I have a well-stock pantry and kitchen full of gadgets and utensils,

no amount of equipment or technique will help you make a meal better than better ingredients to. For instance, if you really want a pasta of matricchana that sings, choose your ingredients carefully. A bronze-cut semolina pasta, Guanchali instead of bacon, fresh-grated pecorino Romano instead of palm from a green can, whole San Marzano tomatoes instead of industrial crushed. In a dish with only four ingredients, each one counts.

But also, every one of those ingredients has a story. I mean, how did Italy's pasta culture even develop? Could it really be true that such iconic Italian cuisine is built of noodles borrowed from China and tomatoes borrowed from the Aztecs? Even individual vegetables have a fascinating history. Potatoes too came from the New World, so how did they become the staple food crop for the Irish? Did you know that celery was once such a status symbol that stalks of the stuff would be displayed by well-to-do households in dedicated celery vases? Ever since the beginning, we humans have been eating, so it's not surprising that our food has a long and fascinating history.

On today's Saturday matinee, we bring you an episode from the podcast History of Fresh Produce, which delves into the fascinating story of asparagus, one of the most most of the most of the most of the most of the most. intriguing vegetables in history. I hope you enjoy. While you're listening, be sure to search for and follow History of Fresh Produce. We put a link in the show notes to make it easy for you. Do you want access to bonus episodes, reading lists for every episode on the history of fresh produce, a chat community.

Discounts for all the books mentioned in the week's podcast. Add free listening and a biweekly newsletter. Sign up to the History of Fresh Produce Club at the Produce Industry Podcast. Hello everybody and welcome back to the history of fresh produce, the podcast series that explores the fascinating and often overlooked history of fresh fruits and vegetables. Here are your hosts, Patrick Kelly and John Pard. What fascinated me would be the asparagus tinged with ultramarine and rosy pink which ran from their heads, finally stippled and mauve and azure through a series of,

of imperceptible changes to their white feet, still stained a little by the soil of their garden bed. A rainbow loveliness that was not of this world. I felt that these celestial hues indicated the presence of exquisite creatures who had been pleased to assume vegetable form, who, through the disguise, which covered their firm and edible flesh, allowed me to discern in this radiance of earliest dawn, these hinted rainbows, these blue evening shades, that precious quality which I should recognize again, when all night long after a dinner at which I had partaken of them, they played lyrical and coarse in their jesting as the fairies and Shakespeare's dream

at transforming my humble chamber into a bower of aromatic perfume. Hello, everybody, and that was French novelist Marcel Proust, in one of his novels titled Swan's Way in 1913. And Patrick, that was quite a emotional, sensual description. I mean, that guy, I'm like, wow. Asparagus. He does. I mean, when I first read that, I was like, wow, this is, wow.

I don't think we're going to be able to beep that as an introduction to what we're going to be talking today, which is obviously the history of asparagus. I love it, man. You like asparagus? One of my favorites, man. Love asparagus. I normally, on any given week, I would say two times a week. We probably buy, what are they called?

The stocks, I guess. Batchez, like bundles? Yeah, so I guess I probably buy two to four bundles a week, I would say. Yeah, I'm an asparagus guy, man. I never used to be, but I've learned how to cook them. I love asparagus. And I got a buddy who worked for a couple asparagus companies.

Fun fact, everybody. Asparagus in the business world of ag is also called grass. Grass. Well, actually, it's funny. You mentioned that, because we're going to talk about some of the terms that we're going to talk about grass. We're going to be talking about grass. Asparagus.

Bermuda and Mr. But before we already get off off gear here. up on another tangent. Yeah. Let's dive into this because it's a rich history, and we're probably not even touching all of it, but we're going to do this all in one episode today. So Asparagus aficinalis, to use its formal name,

is part of the Lillia Che family, and it's a distant relative of leaks and onions, which kind of makes sense. So you could say it's the aristocrat of the Allium world, and we'll explain more why that is. And what's fascinating is just how ancient, this vegetable is. So people have been savoring asparagus for well over 2,000 years. And it's thought to have originated in the eastern Mediterranean. The wild varieties have been discovered as far afield

as Africa. And archaeologists even believe that ancient Egyptians cultivated it. So just imagine Cleopatra nibbling on a spear of asparagus. Really an image to conjure, isn't it? Don't you think, Patrick? That's a nice little scene. I like it. It's a nice little scene. You know, just everybody, close your eyes for a few seconds and think about it. Now, let's get back to its name, right? Asparagus. It's a weird word if you really think about it, but many believe that the term sparrow grass

was a product of rustic slang later refined to the more elegant asparagus. But the truth, as ever, is somewhat more layered. So the name actually traces back to medieval Latin, where it was first known as asparagus. And over time, it morphed in late old English to sparrage, and then in middle English to asperages. And by the 16th century, it took on forms like sparich or sparage,

but the official spelling between all that still remained asparagus, the way you spell asparagus today, to align with its Latin roots. So interestingly, this adherence to Latin gave the word a reputation for stiffness and pedantry, leading to the more colloquial sparrow grass in protest. Isn't language of Marvel? It's a linguistic journey almost as layered as asparagus itself. And speaking of layers, Patrick, there are three main types of asparagus. And you probably know this depends from basically what you told me,

how much asparagus you buy each week. But the most common is probably all that we know, the all-green variety with its tender spears and robust flavor. Then there's the white asparagus cultivated in darkness by earthing up the tips and producing a somewhat subtler while by more fibrous texture. And lastly, there's a lavender-tipped asparagus, which is essentially white asparagus that's been reintroduced to sunlight. It's like a culinary version of rewilding, don't you think?

I saw that, yeah. I don't know all the versions of the asparagus, so I'm learning right now. I mean, I'm just an asparagus guy that I love eating it. I don't know about it as much as we've talked. about right now. No, no. But what does this tell us about its role in history and culture? So why don't we explore that next, Patrick? Listen, it's definitely, I would tell you, a poetic comparison, John. Okay. And I'll tell you this. I'm curious how the same plant can yield such different results, depending on how it's grown,

but beyond its culinary variations, asparagus has always... always been a symbol of refinement. The Romans, for instance, prized it highly. And it said that Emperor Augustus even created what he called the Asparagus Fleet. So that's to bring the vegetable fresh right to Rome, right? So they had a fleet for the asparagus. Yeah. That's amazing, right, John?

It is. It is. So why don't we look at that part next? the ancient world. Let's explore how asparagus plays in the ancient civilizations that we're all familiar with. I agree. And who doesn't want asparagus in the ancient world? So let's start with ancient Greece. It always starts with ancient Greece, I feel, John. But let me ask you a question. Did you know that the Greeks believed asparagus had sacred and aphrodisiac. properties. Well, between all the episodes we've done, I'm not surprised at this point that

there's more aphrodisiacs in here. I'm definitely not surprised. I am 100% not surprised. So they revert it not just for its flavor, but also for its biological and medicinal quality. So even Hippocrates, the father of medicine, recommended it for treating diarrhea and urinary complaints. Well, that's pretty fascinating. So basically it was seen as more than just food. It had a certain divine and medicinal lure. And then, of course, we have the Romans who took things as usual to the next level. They loved asparagus as an appetizer alongside their fish dishes. But more than that, Patrick, they were pioneers in asparagus logistics.

That's what's cool about it, right, John? Yeah. I mean, indeed itself. Caesar's legions deserve a special mention now. Okay? They brought asparagus back to Europe from the Orient. and the Romans even went so far as to freeze it in the Alps for preservation. Now, according to, this is a tough one for me, everyone,

Scytonius, Emperor Augustus famously used the phrase, quicker than you can cook asparagus, to emphasize the need for speed. Talk about a vegetable with imperial flavor. And let's not forget, the poets and authors who immoralized it, mortilized it. Pliny the elder praised the bountiful asparagus from Ravenna where three shoots could weigh a Roman pound. Wow. Marital, the epigrammatist, compared cultivated asparagus to its wild counterpart, noting, John, okay, its delicate taste, which I agree with.

Now, clearly, asparagus was a gastronomic and cultural icon, and its significance, was just limited to cuisine. So Roman polymath Marcus Porccius Cato wrote about its cultivation in De-Agriculture around 150 BC. This treatise provided detailed methods for growing asparagus, many of which remained unchanged until the 19th century. Talk about enduring agricultural practices. Asparagus also left its mark on the art and archaeology. of ancient civilizations. Carveins of the plant

have been found on a 5,000-year-old Egyptian freeze, and it appeared in the Roman still-life paintings from Pompeii. There are even traces of asparagus on crockery excavated from the pyramid of Sakara, alongside figs and melons.

Clearly, it was a prized vegetable across the ancient world, John. Oh, obviously. And what about the Syrians and Chinese, right? the ancient Syrians cultivated asparagus, while in China it was used symbolically. So they basically, in China,

they would honor guests by welcome with an asparagus foot bath. Odd, but intriguing custom. I would definitely say so myself, John. Now, what's fascinating is how is this vegetable so cherished by ancient civilizations seemingly disappeared after the fall of Rome? It wasn't until the 12th century, century that asparagus re-emerged in Europe and this time classified as an herb.

Yeah, that's right. That's right. So let's leap forward from that ancient world into the Middle Ages. Middle Ages, right? It takes a bit of this nodes dive, right? So during the Middle Ages, asparagus all but disappeared from European culinary landscape. And its cultivation as a result was largely forgotten, save for the Arabs, who fortunately kept that flame alive and trust the Arabs to keep hold of something so valuable, just as we've

seen in other episodes, they were there to kind of pick up the pieces when Europe entered this period of darkness. And so it wasn't really until the renaissance that Asparagus reemerged in Europe. And when it did, it wasn't just food. It was a status symbol. I feel like we see so many patterns when we do these episodes. But lo and behold, asparagus is following a very comparative path to a lot of other products that we've touched on. So by the 16th century, asparagus was gracing the tables of royal

and princely courts. In France, Louis XIV, became particularly obsessed. He adored asparagus so much that he actually commissioned greenhouses to ensure a year-round supply. And his royal gardeners cultivate what were described as stocks, the size of swan feathers. Wow. It's big. Wow. the sun king John I'm going to tell you something right now always so understated he even dubbed asparagus

the queen of vegetables didn't he he did that's pretty cool I mean if you're a sun king you're going to come up with those sorts of tags for what you love right but it wasn't just about luxury asparagus was believed to have let's say

special properties so it's widely regarded even again in this period once it reemerges as an aphrodisiac, and you have Madame de Pompadour, Louis the 15th famous mistress, who was said to favor asparagus for precisely this reason, though not everybody was thrilled about its reputation as an aphrodisiac or what it stood for. So the Catholic Church, for an instance, reportedly banned asparagus from convents fearing fearing it might inflame the passions of the nuns.

You don't want impassioned nuns in the context. So a wise precaution, perhaps, by the Catholic Church, but asparagus wasn't purely for indulgence. You had herbalists of the time valuing its medicinal properties using it as a diuretic, a laxative, and even to dissolve kidney stones. And some believed its spear-like shape held the key to its powers. and this is a nod once again to the Renaissance theory of shape analogy.

That's the idea that plants resembling a body part were thought to benefit the specific area, isn't it, John? Yeah, basically. So I don't need to really describe why somebody would have thought asparagus would fit that tag. You can use your own mind to figure that out, but Swiss physician Paracelisus championed this concept of shape analogy. and asparagus with its elongated form was associated with enhancing passion which no doubt added to its allure. What does that mean for the people that don't understand that?

Why don't you just? When I think of what you would assimilate or replicate an asparagus stock would be me and your legs. We're tall, we're skinny, we're like an asparagus. Sure, why not? Okay. All right, all right. I imagine that made it quite the conversation to start with banquets, John.

Yeah, probably. Speaking of which, did you know Casanova supposedly included asparagus in his rather legendary seduction repertoire? Well, certainly doesn't surprise me in the slightest. The shape analogy concept that's being exercised during this period. And actually, but going to your banquet point, banquets featuring asparagus became. really all the rage. Guests were served elaborate asparagus dishes. They were paired with delicacies like oysters, which are also considered an aphrodisiac at this point.

And of course, let's not forget the wine to compliment them. So people, this was just aphrodisiac-laden events. So it was a fun time to be alive. But by the late 16th century and early 17th centuries, though, refugees from France and the low countries that are fleeing the religious persecution, settle in England. And with them, they bring an agricultural revolution. And these were the first people really to grow root plants on a commercial scale, introducing a variety of vegetables to the English marketplace. And Batesy, on the south bank of the Thames, became a hub for this burgeoning trade.

And Batesy was transformed by these French and Flemish market gardeners who turned this district into a patchwork of thriving vegetable plots. They played a crucial role in basically feeding London's growing population at this time. And of course, one of their most popular crops was asparagus. And it actually became so closely associated with this area that a local tavern was named the asparagus. I think it even still exists today. And so asparagus was sold in bunches, just like you're describing it at the top of the

episode, Patrick, they were sold in bunches, making it more accessible to ordinary Londoners. And no longer was this just a delicacy for the elite. it began to find slowly its way into kitchens across the capital. Well, and that's amazing in itself, John. So speaking of the elite, there's a rather delightful story about William III of orange and asparagus, isn't there?

There is. So William the 3rd is said to have introduced Jonathan Swift and William Temple to the Dutch way of eating asparagus served with basically a sauce made of melted butter, hard-boiled eggs, ground pepper, and nutmeg. And there's our nutmeg again. So if you want to learn more about nutmeg and the English-Dutch connection there and listen to our two-part series on that. And this was quite a culinary statement.

So by the 18th century, asparagus, along with other vegetables like artichokes, had shed its exclusive image and became as common in English households as cauliflower and cabbages. Really remarkable transformation in the event. availability of this of this vegetable but patrick this isn't just a story of gastronomy uh i'm probably going to slaughter this french town name but i'm going to try anyway argentwe a suburb of paris famous for its asparagus also became a retreat for impressionist painters so you have actually cloud monnet who settles there in 1871 and edward manet visited him in his 1874 drawing inspiration from these serene landscapes and vibrant local produce of the area.

John, as I always say, always something, right? And obviously, if it's drawing inspiration from that vibrant local produce, didn't, and I, you know, Manet wasn't just inspired by the scenery, was he? He had a fascination with Flemish and Dutch still life painting, a tradition that often gave humble vegetables like asparagus, a starring role. Precisely. And actually one Dutch master, in particular, Adrian Kort, painted a series of these still

lives that gave asparagus a peculiar prominence. It's likely that actually Manet had these works in mind when he painted his work titled A bunch of asparagus in 1880, which was a simple yet evocative study of the vegetable. I will post that probably somewhere on our social channel. Or you can Google it while you're listening if you're not driving. a bunch of asparagus by Mennay. Just a bunch of asparagus, right? Just a bunch of asparagus.

A perfect blend of history, art, and fresh produce. Am I right? Seriously. From the fields of Battersea to the art saloons of Paris, asparagus carved out a curious, multifaceted legacy in the Middle Ages and Renaissance. And yet, Patrick, it's remarkable. Really, I mean, how this humble vegetable,

whether the storms of history, always somehow finding its way at a seat at the table. Now, we kind of covered Europe. Should we go on to America next? I think, I mean, I think we should. It's probably the best thing. I would say the curious case of asparagus and the odorous of urine, too, right, John?

That's always something we hear. Am I right? Yeah, you always hear that. I've had an association asparagus. Right? I'm just I'm telling you. Like your pee smells like asparagus, we hear it all the time. But yeah, let's talk a little bit.

And before we go there, you know, backing it up, let's touch on one of life's greatest mysteries, okay? Or perhaps miseries. The peculiar smell of asparagus laid in urine. It's been puzzling to people for centuries, hasn't it, John? Yeah. Of course, as far back as, 1702, French botanist and chemist Louis Lerre was lamenting this phenomenon. He noted that

asparagus spears cause a filthy and disagreeable smell in the urine, as everybody knows. Fast forward to 1781 and none other than Benjamin Franklin weighed in on this delicate matter in a letter. He complained that a few stems of asparagus eaten shall give our urine a disagreeable odor. Ever the optimist, Franklin hoped scientists might one day invent a drug to turn that foul smell into something as pleasant as perfume. I'd disagree with that. I'd rather have my pee smell like urine. I'd rather have my pee smelling asparagus. Well, if nothing more, it's a classic Franklin observation, right? Equal part wit and practicality. But of course today, we know what the culprit it is, right? It's the asparagus acid.

Acparagusic acid. The wonders of modern chemistry. Oh, yes. Asperagousousagustic, asparagus. Look, I mean, think about it. That's why we don't know about it. Asperagucic acid itself is odorless. But once metabolize, it breaks down into sulfur-containing compounds like methamthil

and demethyl sulfide. These are the smelly offenders. detectable within just 15 minutes of eating asparagus. And here's the twist. While everyone who eats asparagus produces these compounds, not everyone can smell them. It's a fascinating quirk of genetics. Scientists believe it all comes down to whether you possess

or you possess the specific olfactory receptors needed to detect that scent. So, John, if you don't smell anything after a plate of the asparagus, you're either lucky or missing out on one of life's more peculiarly. sensory experiences. Well, I think I'll take my chances with luck on that one. But this unique characteristic certainly has added to Asparagus' mystique over the centuries. That's for sure. It's not just a vegetable. It's a bit of a scientific enigma. I mean, an enigma that's been delighting or tormenting dinners since at least the 18th century.

And who knows, right? Like maybe one day Franklin's dream of asparagus-scented perfume will come true. I hope not. One can only. I will say one can only hope. But right, let's take a quick break here to catch our breath or sense of smell, depending on where you are. And when we return, we'll head to America.

We'll be right back. This episode of the history of fresh produce is brought to you in part by Cornell University. Patrick, what an amazing institution in an amazing state, if I may say so? Absolutely. The brightest minds in food are. developing new ways to improve food supply chain efficiencies, marketing strategies to increase consumption, and so much more. I mean, John, we've seen it time and time again. The university produces the future leaders of the produce industry. That's right. And it's really no surprise

given the world-renowned faculty. Did you know these programs are not just for college students? Really? They're executive development programs like the one with the International Fresh Produce Association help career professionals level up their skills. For sure. And let's not forget about the impressive research being performed at Cornell. Exactly right. So if you are looking for the next step in your professional career, visit Cornell University's Food Industry Management Program at dyson.cornell.edu.

forward slash outreach forward slash FIMP. Hello, everybody. Welcome back to the history of fresh produce. we just got finished talking about urine or asparagus odor urine and we took a little detour from our way from Europe to America. But now we're going to get into America, Patrick, after that little other way around. And when we think of European settlers in America's Patrick, we tend to picture them, you know, armed with muskets, maybe some Bibles, the occasional bottle of brandy, but they also brought

along something far less ominous, right? The asparagus roots. Well, John, this is what I'm going to tell you. There's there's roots and everything that we're, we're involved in. Am I right? And I'll tell you, it's a whirlwind. And I will say, you're right on it. So by the early 1650s, okay, asparagus had already made its way to North American gardens adapting quickly to the new world's conditions. One of the earliest recorded mentions comes from the Dutch settlement of New Netherlands, where Asparagus took root quite literally thanks to men like

Adrian van der Dernock. That's a good one, right? So Van Deneck was an early settler, a legal official, and a man with an eye for detail. He arrived in New Netherland in 1642, where he mingled with both Dutch colonists and the indigenous people. So his Bechi Revenge van Nurt Nerlant

or description of New Netherland, published in 1655, offers a fascinating glimpse into the life in the colony. And asparagus, it turns out, had already become a part of that life. Vanderdunk recorded its cultivation in local herb gardens alongside other crops, but brought all from Europe. His account not only documented farming practices, but also encouraged others to join him in developing the colony, John. So asparagus, like the Dutch settlers themselves, had a transatlantic story, and Vanderdonic influence extended beyond farming.

His estate north of Manhattan earned him the title of Junkhir, which eventually evolved in the name of Yonkers. The Dutch weren't alone in their love for asparagus, though. English settlers also embraced it. William Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania, noted its success in his colony as early as 16. And here's the twist, John. Penn had visited the Netherlands in 1677, where he likely encountered Dutch asparagus, cultivation firsthand, a lovely connection. Don't you think, John?

Oh, yeah. So by the 19th century, asparagus had moved beyond the herb garden and into the commercial market. It found a home in California and the Midwest where the climate was perfect for a large-scale cultivation. And soon it became a staple of. springtime American cuisine. Asparagus recipes appeared in cookbooks like Fannie Farmer's Boston Cooking School book in 1896. Whether served on toast in soups or drenched in holiday sauce,

asparagus cemented its place on American tables. But here's the thing, John, asparagus just wasn't another vegetable. Okay. It was a marker of the seasons. It short growing period meant that like the first sweet corn of summer or pumpkins in autumn, it was eagerly anticipated. Depending on where you lived, asparagus season ran from early March in California to early May in Michigan, which remains the top domestic producers to this day. Yeah, it's really extraordinary how this once European vegetable became such a beloved part of American culture. We've seen that obviously with a few other crops, but here it is again with the asparagus.

It's just a perfect example of how food connects us to our environment, our history. history and ultimately our shared experience of time itself, right? And that, John, is the beauty of asparagus, a humble stock with rich history. That's right. Let's turn our attention back to Europe, right? So there's more going on on that side of the world and more specifically Germany, who has a particular love affair with asparagus. Oh, yeah.

And so listening to everything that we've talked about, asparagus may still seem like a simple vegetable at the end of day, but in Germany, it is so much more. and it's known as the conenglish comusa or royal vegetable and this love affair isn't reason patrick this goes back centuries so let's tell that story so as early as 1565 as spragal by your size spargo made its debut in a german prince's pleasure garden cataloged as quote delightful fare for lovers of food end quote and at that time it was basically a delicacy reserved exclusively for nobility. So imagine gilded banquet tables, silver cutlery design specifically for the slender stock.

It was just the ultimate status symbol. But fast forward a few centuries and by the mid-1800s, Germany democratized its obsession with Spargo and no longer just the preserve of kings and princes. It became a staple for the average German. And then you fast forward a little further to today, and Spargel Zeit, or Spargel Zite, asperga season is a cultural phenomenon. And so from April to, I believe it's about June 24th, the Christian Feast Day of St. John, the entire country just goes completely mad for it. And it's quite respectable.

So in towns like Schroberhausen, Schweitzinger, and Abensberg, you have the Sparge. which takes center stage. And what I mean by that is that restaurants just completely revamped their menus to showcase asparagus at every conceivable dish. There are asparagus tours, their asparagus competitions, and Patrick,

there's even the crowning of an asparagus king or queen, based rather wemskly on the size of their stock. And let's not forget about Schweitzinger's famous statue of the Spagelfrauian. and that's a statue honoring the women who toil in the fields during this brief but intense harvest. And it really is a community effort. It's deeply tied to the land and this tradition in Germany. Yet Germany's history with Spargel hasn't always been smooth.

And making an appearance, the not so much friends of the show, the Nazis, ever pragmatic, deemed the asparagus to be too labor intensive for its collaboration. return. So in World War II, the young women of the Brunt Dautscher Medal, who once picked Spargo, were reassigned to munition factories.

And after the war in East Germany, communist policies prioritized staple crops like wheat, potatoes over these what they considered luxury vegetables. But Spargo was resilient. It didn't give up. So even under communist

rule, it endured in these home gardens. And so you have these enthusiasts that would barter, sell, and occasionally even smuggle the asparagus into West Berlin. And so when reunification came in 1990, Western Spargel farmers ventured east to reclaim this beloved crop restoring its rightful place in the soil. And so it's not just the history, right? It's the taste that has solidified its status. You know, the story is one thing, but if it's not tasting good and it's not enjoyable to eat,

there's no real point in keeping going. But so the German spagel is a variety of a white asparagus. And as we kind of mentioned at the beginning of the show, this, this asparagus has grown underground to prevent chlorophyll from turning green. So to the untrained eye, it might resemble this limp larvae, but Germans call it white gold. and this shepardel, it's thicker, it's fibrous, and when boiled just right, subtly sweet, and it's an entirely different experience from its green cousin. I can't say firsthand that I've had this, but this is what I've read. And so it's a delicacy, and it's one that Germans pay really dearly for, sometimes more per kilo

than meat. Right, strap your head around that one for a second. And it's a reminder of how food traditions, no matter the upheaval. of history remain deeply rooted in one's culture. So whether it's a banquet in 16th century castles or on modern German dinner tables, asparagus has always held a certain regal charm. And Spargel Zeit is not just about eating. It's about celebrating heritage, resilience, and quite simply the joy of good food. It's truly the Koninglish Kumusa, right? That the term that the Germans give this fruit. Or this vegetable.

But Patrick, what, turn our heads back to asparagus in America. What is asparagus today? Because obviously, you're one that buys a lot of asparagus every week. I know I see a lot of it in stores today. But from what I understand being within the industry, a lot of it actually comes outside of the country. So let's explore asparagus in America and why we see so much of it coming outside of America. Yeah, so true. And I always laugh because people always want to say they want their food to be in the United States, which is totally true. We definitely want to support, you know, American farmers. But, you know, I always laugh and I always say like, do you realize where like 70 to 80 percent of your asparagus comes from? And, you know, it does. It comes from places like Chile, Peru. And, you know, the Michigan's and the, you know, the Californians are very small programs, still very impactful to the supply chain.

for North America, but definitely, you know, it's a, it is. It's a small fraction and isn't even economical to grow asparagus in the United States versus the actual imports. And, and sometimes, too, John, like the seasons counteract with each other. So NAFTA, right? So the North American free trade agreement, asparagus and the war on drugs is what we're going to talk about. And John, I never thought asparagus would lead us into a discussion about trade agreements and the war on drugs, but you know what, here we are. By the late 20th century, this humble vegetable was swept

into the swirling forces of globalization. Okay? Asparagus is a case study in how modern agriculture has been reshaped by politics, economics, and international agreements. So let's start with NAFTA,

the North American Free Trade Agreement, which you heard me say, which went into effect in 1994. Yes, the NAFTA. That's that notorious deal that removed tariffs and courage-free trade between the U.S., Canada, Mexico. And really, like you said, for agriultures, it was revolutionary. Absolutely. Absolutely, John.

It allowed for a flood of imported goods, okay? And guess what that was, including asparagus. Yeah. So back in 1970, back in 1970, like, we're going back to like 150 BC. We're like back in 1970. In 1970, the U.S. barely imported any asparagus at all. But by 1999, annual imports had soared to over 150 million pounds. By 2010, that number had doubled again with more asparagus in supermarkets and now available year round. More people ate more asparagus. By the mid-1900s, the United States

had become the world's largest importer of asparagus. And by 2007, it was importing more than next five largest importing countries combined. While domestic production of fresh asparagus has gone down, and U.S. Asparagus exports plummeted. And all this is spares, where was it coming from? Largely from two places, Mexico and Peru. But Peru's asparagus industry, interestingly enough, owes much of its existence to the U.S. government's war on drugs.

Well, that's quite a leap. So how did that happen? Well, in 1991, the first Bush administration, introduced the Andean Trade Preference Act or the ATP. It aimed to reduce coca farming, which could be processed into cocaine, in countries like Peru by offering trade incentives for farmers to grow alternate crops. Asparagus became one of those alternatives, especially in Peru's Eco Valley. The Eco Valley, okay.

So that Eco Valley, which for those are listening to that know, it's actually one of the driest places on Earth. I believe they receive something like an average of 0.02 inches. of rain per year, so not much. So that seems unlikely candidate for asparagus farming, doesn't it? Unlikely, yes, but it's perpetually sunny climate made it ideal.

With the help of the extensive drip irrigation systems fed by the region's aquifer, Peru began expirited millions of pounds of asparagus annually to the U.S. Of the mid-1990s, Peru had become a leading global supplier. But, Patrick, there's a darker side to this green gold rush, isn't there? There is. Over-exploitation of the Eka Valley's aquifer has created a water crisis.

While agribusinesses thrived, local communities often struggled to access basic water, though, for drinking and sanitation. Some survive on as little as 10 liters a day, far below the World Health Organization recommended minimum. And yet, stopping the asparagus trade would be disastrous for the local economy. The asparagus industry employs a vast number of people in Inca, but most of them work on 10. temporary contracts and remain below poverty line. The ecological and social costs are just honestly gone. They're just staggering. But the economic lifeline provides complicates and potential solutions.

And I'll tell you what, it's a grim paradox. Okay. As a thriving export industry built on a collapsing ecosystem, like what a great way to promote, right? And as is climate change, and Aligno worsened, water shortages, the situation grows even more dire when that happens. The World Bank has pledged millions of irrigation projects,

but as local organizations argue, the real issue lies in controlling demand, not just increasing in supply, John. Yeah, it really is a complex and deeply human story and not how I expected our story on a sparras. but here we are. But it just shows you again this, you know,

just how significant that trade agreement had, in this case, on asparagus and how, you know, and Eka, they're kind of just trapped in this cycle and they can't get out.

And it's long term, something's going to have to give because either water is going to run out or, or trade agreements are going to change. Who knows? But it's complicated. and yeah, it really rounds off that full story of asparagus up to today.

You know, you really have everything. You have, we had some love in there. We had some comedy. We had some drama, some sex. It's quite a vegetable to asparagus with quite a complicated, rich history. I mean, it sounds great to me. Yeah. Makes me want to buy more.

So you're part of that problem. Dang it. And listen, I've only, I mean, listen, my pee does smell like asparagus. But I will tell you, you know, if you look at those sensual senses and the sensations that come with that, right? I will tell you some people don't smell it at all like they said. So like I've literally like, oh my gosh, you're like my pee smells like asparagus.

And then you have someone like my daughter, they're like, I don't smell anything. Yeah. Right. So your senses, again, even I would laugh about this because, you know, I talk about this all the time. you might be able to smell someone else's smell, right? Whether it's pee or something else, right? Yeah. But sometimes you can't.

Yeah. So I love that they've talked about that, that's that sensation, you might not have it. So when someone, you walk out of the bathroom and you're like, whoa, that person might have never even smell that same smell that you smelled because each of our, I would say, are chemical and. How we are wired will let us know that, right? Yeah. Well, I have a terrible sense of smell, so I will not smell anything, which... I smell it all. Listen, I can smell your baby going in its diaper from New York, okay?

Like, I can be like, John, you're changing the kid today? You enjoy that superpower. I don't. It is a superpower I've had with all my kids. I could be in the bedroom and be like, I think someone craft their self. On that note. That is going to conclude our history of the asparagus today. As always, thank you for the support and listening to our storytelling of the history of fresh produce.

And until next time, you can decide to become a member of the History of Fresh Produce Club. Yes, you can. We won't go into the deep details of that, but definitely a club you want to be part of. if you are enjoying being a listener of the regular lineup. And until next time, it'll be goodbye for me, John Papp. And goodbye for me, Patrick Kelly.