In Season, In Place - Rediscovering What The Land Once Gave Us
For centuries, the people of Devon and Cornwall thrived on a diet shaped by their land and sea. From the Cornish Earlies, dug fresh from the rich soils of Cornwall, to the Mazzard cherries that once flourished in North Devon Orchards, the region's food reflected its heritage. Cider culture, too, was deeply ingrained in local life, with orchards covering the countryside, producing the sharp and sweet varieties that sustained generations. And then there were the humbler staples—swedes, pilchards, barley bread—once the backbone of working-class diets.
Yet today, much of this history is slipping away. Supermarkets offer instant satisfaction, with year-round produce sourced from thousands of miles away. Fast food and convenience meals have replaced the slow, seasonal rhythms that once dictated what we ate and when. The result? A disconnect from our heritage and the seasonal way of living.
South West Origins
The Cornish Early potato has been cultivated in the mild climate of Cornwall since at least the mid-1700s. Originally grown as a staple alongside pilchards, it wasn’t until the early 19th century that Cornish Earlies became a prized commodity. By 1808, they were being shipped across the UK, Europe, and even as far as Barbados and Newfoundland. Their unique taste, shaped by the coastal air and sandy soil, made them unlike any other potato—yet today, they are at risk of being forgotten in favour of mass-produced, uniform varieties.
A successful crop of Cornish Earlies grown using Hadfield Special Potato Manure, St Germans, Cornwall, circa 1910’s
The Decline of Cider Culture
Cider-making has been at the heart of Devon and Cornwall’s identity for centuries. Orchards filled with traditional apple varieties like Kingston Black, Dabinett, and Slack-ma-Girdle once produced rich, complex ciders that aged like fine wine. These weren’t just drinks—they were part of local ritual, culture, and community. But the rise of industrial cider-making has led to the dominance of mass-produced, sugar-laden alternatives. Small-scale cider makers are fighting to keep the tradition alive, but without consumer support, the unique, heritage ciders of the Southwest risk becoming nothing more than a nostalgic memory.
The Cider Works, originally built in 1935 for The Creedy Valley Cider Company, Crediton, Devon
Swedes, Barley, and the Lost Staples
Swedes, often associated with harsh winters and frugal cooking, were a mainstay in Cornish and Devonian kitchens. Alongside barley bread, they formed the foundation of many traditional dishes, from Cornish pasties to hearty stews. Oats, too, were a staple grain grown across Dartmoor and used in everything from oatcakes to slow-cooked porridge. And in wetter soils, rye and even Devon White Wheat—an old variety known for its nutty depth—thrived until industrial agriculture pushed them aside.
Today, these simple, nutritious foods are often overlooked, replaced by imported alternatives that bear little connection to the land and the people who once depended on them.
Coastal Foraging and the Ocean’s Pantry
Beyond farmland, the coastline offered another layer of seasonal food wisdom. Sea beet and samphire once filled pots and pans with salty brightness. Laver, a mineral-rich seaweed, was foraged from tidal rocks and stewed into laverbread. Shellfish like limpets and periwinkles were gathered from rock pools and served with vinegar or stewed in fish broths—humble, nourishing, and deeply rooted in place.
These wild foods weren’t delicacies. They were dinner. And their availability followed nature’s tide.
Mazzard Cherries: North Devon’s Lost Treasure
The mazzard or gean is a domesticated form of wild cherry (Prunus avium). In years gone by, they were widely grown in North Devon, particularly in the villages of Landkey, Swimbridge, and Goodleigh, where the trees thrived on the slopes of the Taw Valley in the damp, mild climate.
Mazzards were taken to the Pannier Market in Barnstaple and sold by the pound. It is said that in 1645, the future King Charles II sampled mazzard pie when he stayed with the Countess of Bath at Tawstock. Mazzards are gently cooked and served with Devonshire clotted cream or made into tarts or pies. As the 20th century progressed, mazzards fell out of fashion due to the substantial amount of labour required to protect and harvest the crop. After 1918, rural depopulation led to a decline in available pickers, making mazzard growing unviable.
Mazzard trees grow very tall, and farmers built long ladders to reach the top. There are five known strains of mazzard: Dun, Greenstem Black, Black Bottler, Small Black, and Hannaford. Landkey was also home to three varieties of indigenous apples: Stockbearer, Limberland, and Listener. Another special fruit tree from the area was the Landkey Yellow, a type of plum commonly used in hedgerows.
Prunus Avium, Mazzard Cherry Tree
Bringing Back Seasonal Eating: Listening to Nature’s Calendar
As well as becoming disconnected from our past and heritage, we have managed to miss the important vitamins and nutritious values that the land presents to us throughout the year. Think about it: in spring, just like us, everything starts to wake up and come out of hibernation. Then with the help of Mother Nature, we’re gifted exactly what our bodies need.
Take wild garlic, for example—abundant from late March through to May. Wild garlic has been traditionally used for its medicinal properties for centuries. It is known to have antibacterial, antifungal, and antiviral properties, and may help lower blood pressure and cholesterol levels. It also supports digestion, boosts the immune system, and has anti-inflammatory effects. Rich in vitamins A and C, iron, magnesium, and manganese, it’s a perfect spring tonic.
Later in the year, elderberries ripen between August and October, ready to be turned into cough syrup or cold-preventing tinctures for winter. We often search far and wide for medicinal properties, sometimes from the other side of the world, when what we need is already on our doorstep. Nature is shouting at us to come back to our roots. She’s reassuring us that most of what we seek nutritionally is already here, in the soil and hedgerows of our native land.
Of course, for city folk, it's a different story. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be conscious. Even in supermarkets, pause for a moment. Ask yourself: what’s in season right now? How can I reduce the air miles of the food I eat? What impact is the harvest of this particular fruit or vegetable having on the environment?
When we eat seasonally, we're not just eating with the land—we're syncing with the ancient intelligence of our bodies. This isn’t romantic nostalgia. It’s biological design.
How We Find Our Way Back
Reviving these traditions doesn't mean turning back the clock—it means making conscious choices. Choosing a swede grown in Devon over a sweet potato flown in from Peru. Buying cider from a local orchard rather than a supermarket chain. Supporting farmers markets and small-scale growers instead of defaulting to big-box convenience.
Look out for Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) boxes in your area or local farm shops offering weekly veg boxes.
Visit local Pannier Markets like those in Tiverton or Crediton, if you’re based in Mid Devon.
Support heritage fruit projects like the North Devon Mazzard Heritage Orchard.
Discover wild foods—many local foragers now run courses on seasonal plants and there are plenty in the South West.
“The ultimate goal of farming is not the growing of crops but the cultivation and perfection of human beings.” - Masanobu Fukuoka