Putting my money where my mouth is, reluctantly
Over the past couple of years I've been thinking a lot about the "local eating" movement, which espouses the concept that much of the dysfunction in Americans' diets can be repaired by fostering a closer relationship with the ingredients in our food, and supporting an agricultural economics that rewards nutritious and conscientious food production rather than amoral agribusiness. I read Michael Pollen's The Omnivore's Dilemma (twice now, in fact) and was impressed enough by his arguments to cut high fructose corn syrup out of my diet (as well as the fast food it features so prominently in). This switch was relatively easy because as I've come to appreciate the taste of food more, I've found that high fructose corn syrup just doesn't taste good. In my monthly Cooking Basics class we make French toast and I always put out the real maple syrup with it, and everyone says it's the best French toast they've ever had, which may be true, but really I think they're mostly tasting how much better maple syrup is than the gross "pancake" syrups that are all artificially-flavored high fructose corn syrup. Seriously, even if it weren't killing you slowly (which you know it is), there is no good reason to eat high fructose corn syrup, and this is coming from an unrepentant sweet tooth. If you drink high fructose corn syrup straight from the bottle, which I certainly have, it's just not tasty like honey or molasses or brown sugar, all of which I also eat straight from the containers.
Then we had a Cooking Book Club class on The Omnivore's Dilemma, for which I bought lots of ingredients from the farmer's market, and we compared them side by side in simple preparations (or straight up) with the "identical" supermarket specimens. I swear, if I hadn't been present for the taste-tests, I wouldn't have believed the difference. We compared apples, pears, zucchini, eggs, tomatoes, and steak, and in every case the farmer's market item was significantly better. This was a small sample set, but the differences were way beyond the margin of error.
So now I'm reading Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, and it's making me a little crazy. First, I am not a fan of Kingsolver's writing style (including her fiction). I find her use of slang, interjections, and silly metaphors annoying and jarring. For example, she describes her family's decision to eat only local foods for one year as a "Dear John letter to a roomie that smells like exhaust fumes and the feedlot". You don't write Dear John letters to roommates, and no one calls them "roomies" any more (did anyone ever?). But obviously my opinion of Kingsolver's writing is in the minority, and it's dangerous for a blogger to critique anyone else's writing, so let's move on to the substance of the book. I'm getting excited by her descriptions of seasonal and local eating, and some of the time-honored methods she employs to manage the variable availability of food across the seasons: canning, freezing, culturing, etc.
I am on board with the concept that eating locally solves a whole bunch of problems: it reduces the amount of energy wasted in transporting food, it helps maintain both the taste and the nutrition value of fresh food, it ensures that farmers get more of each food dollar than the big bad companies that have taken over much of our food supply. But it has some obvious drawbacks. First, you have to know how to cook your own food, and be able to improvise when certain ingredients aren't available. I'm okay with the first part of that, and less happy but still able to manage the second part. The bigger problem for me is that these ingredients are more expensive. One of the reasons Generous Servings is now in its second year of business is because we're really careful about cost control. I do a fair amount of our shopping at Wal-Mart, which I hate, but I do enjoy getting paid every month. I've been thinking about this problem a lot, but I haven't gotten much closer to a workable solution.
I did make an effort at Thanksgiving, though. We hosted a big Thanksgiving party for family and friends at Generous Servings, and I was in charge of the food preparation. I decided to order a free-range turkey from a Colorado turkey farm, which I was supposed to pick up at the Winter Farmer's Market in Boulder on the Saturday before Thanksgiving. When I went there, I was surprised to find a full-fledged farmer's market, with tons of produce (nothing green, of course). I figured it was time to walk the walk, so I bought a bunch of potatoes, Brussels sprouts, carrots, and beets for our Thanksgiving feast. We've never had beets at Thanksgiving before, but what could be more in the culinary spirit of the holiday than eating local foods? The beets were good (the turkey was a disappointment, because I thought it was going to be a heritage breed but it turned out to be the same breed you get in all supermarkets, Broad Breasted White, and it tasted the same as the comparison store-bought turkey I also cooked). It was all expensive, except the potatoes, which were really cheap (but some were going bad, too). I'm not sure what I've learned from this exercise, but I'm still thinking, and I sense a New Year's resolution in the making.
Then we had a Cooking Book Club class on The Omnivore's Dilemma, for which I bought lots of ingredients from the farmer's market, and we compared them side by side in simple preparations (or straight up) with the "identical" supermarket specimens. I swear, if I hadn't been present for the taste-tests, I wouldn't have believed the difference. We compared apples, pears, zucchini, eggs, tomatoes, and steak, and in every case the farmer's market item was significantly better. This was a small sample set, but the differences were way beyond the margin of error.
So now I'm reading Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, and it's making me a little crazy. First, I am not a fan of Kingsolver's writing style (including her fiction). I find her use of slang, interjections, and silly metaphors annoying and jarring. For example, she describes her family's decision to eat only local foods for one year as a "Dear John letter to a roomie that smells like exhaust fumes and the feedlot". You don't write Dear John letters to roommates, and no one calls them "roomies" any more (did anyone ever?). But obviously my opinion of Kingsolver's writing is in the minority, and it's dangerous for a blogger to critique anyone else's writing, so let's move on to the substance of the book. I'm getting excited by her descriptions of seasonal and local eating, and some of the time-honored methods she employs to manage the variable availability of food across the seasons: canning, freezing, culturing, etc.
I am on board with the concept that eating locally solves a whole bunch of problems: it reduces the amount of energy wasted in transporting food, it helps maintain both the taste and the nutrition value of fresh food, it ensures that farmers get more of each food dollar than the big bad companies that have taken over much of our food supply. But it has some obvious drawbacks. First, you have to know how to cook your own food, and be able to improvise when certain ingredients aren't available. I'm okay with the first part of that, and less happy but still able to manage the second part. The bigger problem for me is that these ingredients are more expensive. One of the reasons Generous Servings is now in its second year of business is because we're really careful about cost control. I do a fair amount of our shopping at Wal-Mart, which I hate, but I do enjoy getting paid every month. I've been thinking about this problem a lot, but I haven't gotten much closer to a workable solution.
I did make an effort at Thanksgiving, though. We hosted a big Thanksgiving party for family and friends at Generous Servings, and I was in charge of the food preparation. I decided to order a free-range turkey from a Colorado turkey farm, which I was supposed to pick up at the Winter Farmer's Market in Boulder on the Saturday before Thanksgiving. When I went there, I was surprised to find a full-fledged farmer's market, with tons of produce (nothing green, of course). I figured it was time to walk the walk, so I bought a bunch of potatoes, Brussels sprouts, carrots, and beets for our Thanksgiving feast. We've never had beets at Thanksgiving before, but what could be more in the culinary spirit of the holiday than eating local foods? The beets were good (the turkey was a disappointment, because I thought it was going to be a heritage breed but it turned out to be the same breed you get in all supermarkets, Broad Breasted White, and it tasted the same as the comparison store-bought turkey I also cooked). It was all expensive, except the potatoes, which were really cheap (but some were going bad, too). I'm not sure what I've learned from this exercise, but I'm still thinking, and I sense a New Year's resolution in the making.
posted by The Cooking Doctor at
8:53 PM
1 Comments:
Mary, I'm not a fan of Kingslover's writing either--a bit grating. But I did read the book and wished I had such a place, but it is a lot of work. She's way more organized (and cute with her kids) than I'll ever be. I spent three hours today cutting and smashing cabbage to ferment into sauerkraut. I can hear it bubbling as it gets to work on top of the refrigerator.
As for 'walking the walk' it is a lot tougher as a business than on a personal level. I agree. But, it's cool to hear you say that you're moving that way.
As for the turkey (if it's who I think it may have been, and maybe even if it's not) local broad-breasted can still be better when bought from the local farmer.
First, as you said, the money goes directly to him or her.
Second, it's a bit of support that may grow to building an infrastructure that will encourage that farmer or other farmers to keeping pushing the envelope to better and better things. Currently, there are very few commercial growers of turkeys in Colorado and even less growing heritage turkeys. But, hopefully more will join in.
Third,the animal was probably treated better than on bigger farms. Since the farmer gets more per bird, she may not be tempted to squeeze in more and more for a bit more margin. Know what I mean?
It is expensive but you can also think of Pollan's comment in In Defense of Food: PAY MORE, EAT LESS "There's no escaping the fact that better food--whether measured by tste or nutritional quality(which often correspond)--cost more, usually because it has been grown with more care and less intensively. Not everyone can afford to eat high-quality food in America, and that is shameful; however, those of us who can, should. Doing so benefits not only your health (by, among other things, reducing your exposure to pesticides and pharmaceuticals), but also the health of the people who grow the food as well as the people who live downstream and downwind of the farms where it is grown.
Another important benefit of paying more for better-quality food is that you're apt to eat less of it."
Of course he goes on and I should probably get off of my soap-box.
Congratulations on your first year.
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