This morning I found cepes at my village market.

With their delicate, tempting perfume and fleshy body, the mushrooms are a popular autumn treat in France. People rush to markets to snap up the best, even if these champignons are not cheap -- 15 Euros to 18 Euros per kg -- because they only last a few weeks.

I carefully took mine home and sauteed them with minced garlic, parsley and a smack of white wine, and quickly tasted them. A delicious, intoxicating aroma spread in my mouth, then rose up through my nostrils -- I was addicted.

Unfortunately, we don't have cepes in our garden; instead, there are other signs of autumn. Recently, I was busy picking up apples and making tons of jams and jellies. There are several old apple trees here, giving generous amounts of fresh fruit every year. Many we can't pick fall to the ground, much to the delight of the wild rabbits and anyone in the neighborhood looking for a good pie filling.

Compared to those I buy at supermarkets, these garden apples are smaller and of course less handsome. But they are fresh and taste good, and what I like most about them is that they are pesticide-free. Cutting into the fruit, I often encounter a tiny worm.

In autumn, the landscape is shifting in my small vegetable garden with tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, haricots and okras coming to an end, and making way for winter plants.

During summer, the garden was my favorite green grocery. Since early spring, I watched seeds germinate, grow, bloom, and finally give fruit. Ending up as salads, marinade or ratatouille, they never disappointed me. Thanks to them, I rediscovered the taste of vegetables! And they helped correct my view of vegetables on the market.

When I was living in Tokyo, I used to buy "fresh" produce at nearby supermarkets. Under their cellophane wraps, apples, spinach, lettuce, bananas, tomatoes were uniformly beautiful anytime of year; they had no blemishes, and certainly no worms inside.

In France, vegetables and fruit may not be as neat as the ones back home, but they often taste better to me -- therefore I used to think that they were more natural and healthier (I remember that a lettuce, for example, lasted easily a week in my fridge; here, it would survive three or four days then turn into water). Besides, I was always taught that agriculture is France's most important industry and that farm produce is of high quality.

But when I read Consommateurs, revoltons-nous! (Stupid consumers, we should revolt) by Jean-Pierre Coffe, a book that reveals what is happening in French agriculture, I learned that my view was much too simplistic. Some facts were frightening -- and disheartening.

For example, the majority of tomatoes marketed in Europe (and in France) are mass-produced all year round in temperature-controlled greenhouses. And they grow without real soil! As a result, although their shape is perfect, they are dry and tasteless even in summer.

As for apples, a massive volume is sent to chilly, carbonic gas rooms to be stocked until next harvest -- no wonder that they have lost their flavor and crispness when they arrive on supermarket shelves after several months.

Against this tide of industrialization, there is a produits biologiques trend in France -- but they are often twice as expensive as ordinary produce so people don't buy them often.

Thinking of these sad, seasonless fruits, I made a tarte tatin using some misshapen garden apples. It was the least I could do! My life is not exciting, but by living along with each season I am learning a certain happiness.

I'd welcome any comments or opinions, in Japanese or English, about my column. You can write or fax me at The Weekly, or e-mail me at jtweekly@japantimes.co.jp

The Japan Times Weekly: Oct. 23, 2004
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