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In truth, our appetites are tethered to the earth. In the mild, rain-kissed South, where the land is generous year-round, the golden rule is to eat only what is in season. But in the bitter North, where winter locks the soil in ice, survival once meant relying on pickled cabbage and mustard greens to see the year to its end. Even the thick, starchy sauces of Northern cuisine were born of necessity, a clever way to seal in the heat so a dish wouldn't turn cold before it reached the lips.