So much conspires nowadays to make it harder to track the passing of the seasons. Not just the weather of course, although that is doing its best with the exceptionally warm March followed by a considerably chillier April. I am thinking, of course, about the all-year-round availability of produce in our stores, regardless of the season and the way in which so many people have become accustomed to this and regard it as an essential part of life.

My thoughts on this are prompted by a day that marks one of my favourite seasons. April 23rd, St George’s Day, might mean a flag waving exercise for some, but it also marks the beginning of the British Asparagus Festival, the official start of the asparagus season. Now I know it isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but it is one of my favourites and during the time I lived down in Worcestershire it was pretty hard to avoid the excitement that the new season generated.

I was lucky enough to live near enough to growers in the Vale of Evesham where in those precious few weeks of April and May the ‘gras’ (as it is known round there) can be bought freshly cut on the day one wishes to consume it. Straight to the steamer, a little knob of butter – delicious! Please forgive my revelry in the delights of the green stem; it has a symbolism far beyond the mere taste. It heralds the coming of spring and will be forever associated with some of the other symbolism surrounding this time of year – May Day rituals, the Morris – those symbols associated with the more gentle and even bucolic aspects of the celebration of the feast of St George.

Here in wet West Yorkshire this spring, I looked forward as I always do to the arrival of the English asparagus. In the branch of Waitrose we use here in Otley, on my first look for the product this season there was a huge stack of asparagus on display – but not a stick of it from England: it was all the Peruvian produce that most supermarkets import during the rest of the year!

Questions were asked. I was told that the unseasonal English spring had resulted in lower supplies of early asparagus, and that in effect the season would extend this year when more local produce became available. In the meantime, because the consumer expects to eat asparagus in April, they had stocked additional supply of the imported product to meet demand!

Fair enough on one level, but this response completely misses the point that the beauty of the product lies in the limited seasonal availability with a freshness and quality that in my opinion cannot be matched by the imported product. Now, I have no axe to grind with the Peruvians, whose produce I am sure is wonderful (in Peru), but the logic of the supermarket response I find baffling. If the big retailers are going to seriously try and encourage a more seasonal approach to the availability of some produce to promote British farming, jobs and economy and reducing greenhouse gas emissions associated with imported produce, then maybe at the very least an ‘on shelf’ explanation would have been useful and educative for the consumer.

So, I still await the English asparagus with anticipation. Never mind – at least the Yorkshire rhubarb was good this year. Mind you, forced Yorkshire rhubarb kept in the dark all winter under continuous heat must have a carbon impact too. But we will save that argument for another day. In the meantime, tips on growing asparagus at home will be gratefully accepted, as will recipes for this rhubarb fool...