When you think about Southern vegetables, asparagus probably doesn’t come to mind. Domestically speaking, cooler climate states like Washington and Michigan are far better known for their hearty yields of asparagus.
But it wasn’t always that way. If you learned South Carolina was once known as the “Asparagus Capital of the World,” would you be surprised? While that bit of agricultural trivia is fascinating, the effort that went into acquiring the title is even more so.
Getting in the game
Once again, give credit to food historian David Shields for shedding light on this interesting chapter in S.C. farming history. In brief: South Carolina’s truck farming industry was the most robust in the nation in the 1880s. That was about the same time asparagus with hollandaise became all the rage among the millionaires in Manhattan. Recognizing an opportunity, the state’s truck farmers decided to strike while the saucepan was hot. The mission: to be the first to ship asparagus to New York each spring, thereby positioning themselves to demand higher prices.
The strategy was a success, and asparagus became a crop darling. The Palmetto, a hybrid variety first grown in Mount Pleasant, was the state’s signature asparagus from the 1890s through the 1920s. The green, chubby spears were grown across the Charleston area and considered the ultimate in asparagus eating.
Farmers in Barnwell, Aiken and Bamberg counties distinguished themselves as prolific producers. Monetta, in particular, was once singled out as the nation’s asparagus king. But, like anything that reaches a pinnacle, the Palmetto was destined for a fall. Complex issues affecting cultivation, and the emergence of new disease-resistant varieties, took their toll.
Now for a weird veggie tale: America’s flapper craze of the 1920s may have also contributed to the fate of the Palmetto. According to Shields, “Physical culturists began insisting that thin asparagus would contribute to a thin torso, and fat asparagus would make one chubby.”
Skinny was in, chubby was out, and asparagus “fat shaming” became a real thing. The Palmetto didn’t just hide in shame. It became virtually extinct.
S.C. asparagus today
About that asparagus bundle you just lovingly slipped into a plastic bag and laid in your grocery cart: It likely came from Mexico, not a local farm. South Carolina is, effectively, out of the asparagus business. That’s according to Andrew Fallaw, a fifth-generation farmer whose family still owns and operates Monetta Asparagus Farm.
“Commercially growing asparagus in South Carolina is history,” he explained last year during a lecture at Aiken County Historical Museum. “It doesn’t exist no more.”
The days of missing school to help with the labor-intensive harvest and lining crates with green moss to keep asparagus moist during shipping are gone, he said. But Palmetto State residents aren’t necessarily consigned to eating substandard, dried-out, woody asparagus. Thanks to Fallaw and a few other state growers, you can dine on superior asparagus just like the Manhattan millionaires did. South Carolina might no longer have the Palmetto variety (though Fallaw is involved in a Lazarus-like effort to bring it back), but it still lays claim to some of the best asparagus around.
“South Carolina asparagus tastes better than asparagus from other countries,” Fallaw said. “That’s because our soil is rich in iodine. That makes a big difference.”
Lucking out locally
Several restaurants across Charleston, such as Wild Olive, Herd Provisions and The Establishment, boast local brands like Monetta on their farm-to-table menus. GrowFood Carolina is the main artery through which the annual harvests arrive and are distributed.
“We typically start seeing South Carolina asparagus arrive the last week of March or the first week of April, with the season running through about mid-May,” said Becca Watson, GrowFood’s farm outreach manager. “Last year, we sourced approximately 7,000 pounds, and demand was indeed strong among local restaurants.”
From a chef’s perspective, it’s a much-anticipated time of year.
“Asparagus signals the start of the spring menu,” said Elliott Howells, executive chef at The Establishment. “After a long winter of root vegetables, we are always excited to see its bright green color. In early spring, we love to use the tender, bright green stalks raw, as they are super flavorful.”
A simple dressing will best highlight these first arrivals, he said. But as the season progresses and the stalks become thicker, roasting, sautéing and even pickling are in order.
Get your own asparagus
Growing asparagus is an effort in patience. Anyone tempted to give it a try should understand that it takes roughly three years to see those first stalks. But according to the Clemson Extension Service, once the root crowns begin producing, you can expect them to deliver for the next 10 years. That’s a pretty good return for all the time invested in fantasizing about home-grown asparagus.
For those who thrive off instant gratification and/or lack a green thumb, opt for the next best thing. The Ambrose Family Farm on Wadmalaw Island is growing asparagus and offering a you-pick option.
“Our field is now 13 years old. I guess that’s like 90 in human years,” said farmer Pete Ambrose. “The plants are a bit weak and tired but still producing — just not enough for us to afford putting our harvesting crew to pick them.”
Grab a pair of clippers, show up any day during the season between 10 a.m. and 5 p.m., and harvest asparagus at a cost of $5 per pound. (You can call the farm to check availability at (843) 559-0988.)
It’s a good bargain that may be on course to become a great bargain. With the price of imported asparagus set to rise due to Trump-imposed tariffs, the gap in prices between foreign-grown and locally grown might see some shrinkage. What this means for the asparagus market remains to be seen. Restaurants that rely upon imported vegetables will certainly take a hit and then be forced to pass it along to the dining public.
But for Charleston area chefs dedicated to a seasonal, local approach, neither they nor their patrons should feel much of a punch.
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