People often speak of urban farming as a bold, new idea — a way to reimagine how we grow and share our food. Locally produced harvests are held up almost like the holy grail of sustainability. But when I traveled through India and China, I saw urban farming stripped of the buzzwords and in its most elemental form. In India, vegetables were sprouting in the narrow strips of land pressed up against railway tracks. In China, grey concrete rooftops had been transformed into unexpected gardens, green oases suspended above the bustle of the city. And it left me wondering: is the farmer now entering the city, or has the city quietly absorbed the farmer?