Eat Local Challenge wrap-up

Family life outside the blogosphere has been intense this week, and much of what I usually think of as my reality seems right now to be a bunch of gas vapors inside my monitor. I haven't had much time or energy for what isn't in my house or in my family. I did get out to a Slow Food potluck at Everett Family Farm on Saturday, and we took Logan to the Santa Cruz County Fair yesterday, where we spied this gigantic Blue Cochin cockerel, pictured at left. (All but the last photo in this entry were taken at the fair.)

In reflecting on the 2005 Eat Local Challenge, I'm glad I've taken a while to form my thoughts, because it's easier to see now what the long-term effects this experiment will have on me. For one thing, I have come to think that all food is not created equal. In fact, I would go as far as to say that I now think pre-packaged foods are not real food at all. And I am starting to think that the people who buy Shake 'n' Bake and Kraft and Swanson's and all that crap are being assimilated, like the Borg in Star Trek. I am tired of seeing wax fruit in the grocery store: I am weary of being inundated with ads for edible poisons that contribute nothing to our health, aliveness, economy, or environment. If the majority of your food comes out of packages, and is mixed with chemicals and unnatural ingredients, I think you are either a fool or you're insane, and maybe you're immoral, too. How's that for being diplomatic?

Kate, of the very popular Accidental Hedonist food blog, makes my point for me with this brilliant blog entry: "What's Missing from This Picture?" And I quote: "In my never ending quest to call BS that mega-corporations tend to foist upon the consumer market, I bring you the latest discovery found in my local supermarket." She continues: "I will be gracious enough to say that tomato paste, bell peppers, and garlic does constitute some measure of what one could call 'garden vegetables.' But guacamole without avocados? This is a first."

Boy howdy.

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I cheated sometimes on my Eat Local Challenge. For me, the issue was financial: I have been taking care of Logan so much that my income has diminished. I simply haven't been able to work as much as I did earlier in the year. Logan's parents are not contributing anything much to his upkeep when he's here. Saying "no" is hard to do, as I know he's safe and happy when he's here, and he's in a wholesome environment. But I was broke a lot this summer. It's a choice, I know.

August was a tough time to have to commit to the higher prices of buying sustainably priced proteins: meat, eggs, cheese, and milk are all substantially more expensive if you aren't buying them at the corporate grocery store. I got plenty of fish from Heidi at H & H Fresh Fish, and I got my eggs from TLC Ranch and Everett Family Farm. On a couple of occasions, I broke my own rules, because I got tired of fish, and organic ground beef was on sale. (Now, of course, I am suspicious of all the meat and milk in my supermarket, as anyone who has been trying to inform themselves about the reality of the meat and dairy industries would be.)

On the whole, I did fairly well, though. Even if I wasn't able to keep up to 100% of my goal (I had exempted everything already in my house, and believe me, I thawed out a lot of things just for the variety), I am pretty sure that my farmers market purchases, and a meal or two in restaurants, covered ample ground in the local/sustainable community I support all year long. I've switched to Claravale Dairy Farm milk because it's worth it. We only have milk in our morning tea, so a little goes a long way.

So the challenge is lingering with me, as everything I reach for in the store causes me to think. And explore. And choose differently, often. The single most compelling reason to buy locally is because shipping foods all over is bad for the environment. With the ever-rising costs of gasoline, and global warming, and everything else, it just makes more sense to "vote with your dollars," and see how much from around here will content me. I don't like feeling discontent, and I try to ask not "How much do I need?" but "How little do I need?" When I'm putting mayonnaise on a sandwich, I use less when I focus on the latter. It adds up--though I'm far from perfect.

I'm also ridiculously grateful that I live in Santa Cruz, and not in some concrete jungle or the desert. We are in Eden, and I know that. I try not to take it for granted.  I love taking visitors around this area, seeing it through their eyes, and appreciating the utter natural beauty that is this coastal farmland. It never gets old to me, never.

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When the month was over, I couldn't wait to get down to River Street Cafe and indulge in some very non-local cheeses. I scored some of the glorious Monte Enebro cheese from Spain, and I can still remember the taste if I close my eyes in a quiet room. I also got some Pt. Reyes Blue Cheese, and I love the utter cleanness of it. It's almost like chlorine, but I mean that in a good way (like "nostalgic for summer days at the swimming pool").

Each of these pieces of cheeses was about $3. But I shared them with Bob and a guest, and a little goes a lon-n-n-n-ng way.

Another indulgence was another of the "Smart Hens" from the Midwest: these are air-dried chickens that aren't all waterlogged like the stuff they push at Safeway.

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Curiosity about everything my farmer friends are growing has had a serendipitous effect on my life. Out of my desire to trust their good taste, I've begun asked for recommendations from the farmers themselves. Joe Schirmer turned me into a devotee for fresh shelling beans. Kirsten and Jasmine got me to try (and love) kohlrabi, and I also started buying all kinds of peppers from them. For years (decades), I've been comfortable with my Italian style of cooking: tomatoes, basil, risotto, pasta, and so on. (Who can argue with fresh basil? Please.)

I got inspired to go in a Mexican direction with food: lime replacing lemon, and chiles and spices not Italian suddenly revivified my cooking.

I turned two chicken carcasses into a wonderful Mexican-inspired soup: it's a very forgiving medium, and one that's great for cleaning out little bits of this and that in my refrigerator.

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NOTE: I'm joining Slow Food with my next windfall: it was the best potluck I've ever attended, and the people were really smart and fun. (Those are Logan's little legs; he got dirtier than he's ever been. Oh, we had a great time.)

That's all for now. A new situation in our family is going to be requiring some intense attention in the next couple of months, and my participation in the world of blogging is likely to be reduced a little. Hopefully not too much, though, as farms and farmers and farmers markets are more than a hobby: they're therapeutic. I love the farming community, and I love how they love Logan. My deepest gratitude goes to these people, for what they give to my world goes far beyond tilling the soil and picking the produce.

THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: "When the cannons speak, the Muse falls silent. When the Muse speaks, we don't know what the cannons do; we no longer hear them." —Russian aphorism

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Thanks for visiting.

Comments

[cookiecrumb]

Tana: I'm no ideologue, but I couldn't agree more. The whole month of August reformatted my thinking about food to the point that everything I hated before, I hate more now. And I've developed a love affair with my new approach to eating that is just life-changing. And I really hate dippy platitudes, but there you go.
This diet may cost more, but you don't buy as much. And you eat less. And you revere what you bought more.
(And I'm so sorry you're going to be missing for a while. Best wishes in this, um, paradigm shift.)

[Tana]

Maybe not "missing" but just here less. I can't let this stuff go completely because it helps my heart and soul. When the family shenanigans pile up, I head to the farmers market, or out to a farm.

Greeeeeeeen acres, is the place to be!
Farrrrrrrrm livin' is the life for me!
Land spreadin' out so far and wide.
Keep Manhattan, just give me that countryside.

[farmgirl]

Well, I was doing just fine until I got to the very end--yep, here come the sniffles and teardrops. Absolutely fabulous post, Tana. I am so grateful to be sitting here reading your words, knowing that right outside my open window, hidden in the darkness of the early morning and swirled in a thick mist, is a farm.

I just have two small things to say:

1. I found it so amusing that the same "mental mess-up" I made the other day on my blog (where your brain thinks one word but your fingers type out a homonym or rhyming word) would have been perfect here--just below the lovely cow photo you wrote about "appreciating the utter natural beauty." I meant to write that word the other day but realized later I'd written "udder!" My mistake made no sense in the context, but oh, what a perfectly silly opportunity you missed!

And 2. You go, girl!

Take care, Tana. You are such a very, very special person. We need so many more of you.

[Tana]

Thanks for that kindness, Farmgirl, so very much.

[Kenny]

Tana: You may not be diplomatic, but you're right on the mark regarding the state of our food supply. Living on a farm for a few years spoiled me to the point that it's difficult to purchase produce from the local grocer.

I buy local produce and grow as much of my own as possible. I just started a gardening blog at http://gardeningsecrets.blogspot.com/ check it out when you have a minute

[Jerry Hinz]

If you want to show your support for locally grown food we have a line of "I'M A LOCAL HERO" apparel and merchandise at www.
cafepress.com/buylocalorganic