Veggies with wanderlust

THE OTHER DAY I casually glanced at my package of vacuum-packed asparagus and noticed a label that said Peru. Peru?

Heretofore I had assumed that Mexico was the farthest south that fruit and vegetable suppliers had to travel for me. Because I had assumed most imported vegetables came from Mexico, I consoled myself that at least it was close enough for someone to keep an eye on. But Peru? How would my stomach take to Peru?

Now, in my limited acquaintance with home soil, I’d assumed that asparagus, like artichokes, grows well in California’s Central Valley, places like Watsonville and Salinas. Hot and dry but not steamy, as I imagine the Southern Hemisphere to be. What, then, is my spindly asparagus doing hitchhiking thousands of miles?

Honest, I did not walk into my small, consumer-friendly, California-based grocery chain (Trader Joe’s, if you must know) expecting to find well-traveled vegetables. I mean, I could see someone pining for subcontinental wares, if that was the only place they had some uncontaminated soil left. But this label didn’t even say organic.

I have to admit it looked kind of pretty, packaged in a fancy black tray, printed with designer prices. But it got me thinking: Who was looking over the shoulder of Latin America? (Of the fruits we import, 90% comes from Latin America, and 61% of the imported asparagus comes from Peru, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture.) Who makes sure that it sticks to our pesticide limits, that proper Porta-Potties are installed and that its field laborers get living wages? Somehow I can’t see USDA agents traipsing around the blue-lake bean fields west of the Andes. .

But what mainly bugs me is that here I am, just miles from the vegetable patches that gave birth to California’s newfangled cuisine, and I’m not given an opportunity to be a patriot.

Well, our fruited plains and orchards and valleys are being given a run for their money. In the next few years, one-quarter of our fruits and vegetables are expected to be imported, according to the USDA. This at a time when superstars of the culinary arts, such as Berkeley’s Alice Waters and Britain’s Nigella Lawson, advocate “stay-put” vegetables. With international film crews documenting each squeeze at their local produce market.

Well, I would too -- squeeze local, that is. The problem is, I can’t afford it. The last time I went to my Saturday farmer’s market, there seemed to be a back-to-the-soil nostalgia tax imposed. The radishes were smashing; the elephant garlic was irresistible. But I refused to pay Peruvian asparagus prices for lowly onions, the only affordable thing in sight.

So I left my farmer’s market, as I must now leave my small-scale, user-friendly grocery chain. And I’m on the way to my large-scale, impersonal supermarket, where I’m hoping to bump into some veggies without wanderlust -- or designer prices.