Blueberries are my favorite fruit. So it's sad to see the time come, usually in mid-August, when price of the pint containers in my local supermarket starts rising, and then they disappear from some places altogether.

Such is the cost of eating seasonally. But the benefits definitely outweigh the drawbacks. After all, even as I say goodbye to my beloved blueberries, there are other favorites coming into season. Like tomatoes and basil, for instance. I make a traditional Caprese sandwich on rustic rolls, along with some fresh mozzarella, a drizzle of good olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and a sprinkling of flaky sea salt and freshly ground black pepper. In my household, this sandwich is in frequent rotation until the season for good, juicy tomatoes is over.

My visits to the farmers’ market can be an emotional mixed bag. Nothing compares to my glee at the year’s first enticing whiff of locally grown, organic strawberries. I swear I can taste them from ten feet away with my eyes closed, especially if I’m breathing deeply. But for every sweet, familiar berry or sensuous heirloom tomato, there is mystery bounty, such as cardoons, stinging nettles, squash blossoms, and their ilk—these sexy sirens of the seasonal vegetable kingdom lure me to buy them, despite my not having a clue how to prepare and eat them.

Some will accuse me of needlessly politicizing a vegetable, but I ask you: what do beets have in common with the Clintons? Well, like Bill and Hil, they’re a “twofer;” if you buy ‘em with the greens still attached, you get two vegetables for the price of one.