A Single Step

I'm looking forward to burritos in June

I finally took it upon myself to plant an herb garden.  I decided that I need to look past all of the previous concerns that have stopped me from doing this and just get on with it already.

• Fear #1: I don't have a green thumb.  Solution:  The truth of the matter is that I've actually been able to sustain the life of a plant (sorry plant, but I don't even remember what type you are) for over 2 years now;

My thriving (nameless) plant

• Fear #2: I have no idea which herbs are best planted at this time of year. Solution: I found a patient and knowledgeable employee at a Sloat Garden Center in my neighborhood who alleviated my fears about planting cilantro, basil, thyme & chives.
• Fear #3: I don't have a yard.  Solution: Containers are perfect for growing herbs (I think). I found a container that I like and placed it outside on my patio.
• Fear #4:  I still have no idea what I'm doing and I have so many unanswered questions such as: How long will it take to grow these? - Will they sprout at the same time? - How will I know I need to space the plants further apart?  - Do I really need to worry about weeds?  - Will some drunk kids in my neighborhood sabotage my herbs? Solution: I just decided to start and see what happens.

If you wait to do everything until you're sure you're right, you'll probably not do much of anything.  ~Win Borden

I don't know what to expect, or whether I'll succeed, but one thing I know for sure is that if this works, I'm going to be a very happy person adding cilantro to my burritos in June (or July...or whenever it happens).

Do you have any tips for me to help grow these herbs?

Loving Cup & Local Rice

I finally found a local brand of rice, and surprisingly, I stumbled upon it while eating one of my favorite desserts, rice pudding, at a new cafe on Polk Street called the Loving Cup.

Rice pudding is one of those comfort foods that I live for.  Even more so than ice cream, eating a delicious rice pudding can transport me back to a simpler, child-like lifestyle.  I think my first taste of rice pudding was when I was 5 years old, served to me by Mrs. Faulkner, my after school babysitter back in Maryland.  It's the combination of the creamy-gooey goodness combined with the texture and taste of the rice grains that makes my mouth water and my senses giggling.

On occasion, I'll make my own rice pudding, but I've recently found a great alternative at the Loving Cup that features the dish prominently on its menu and in a wide variety of daily changing flavors.  The Loving Cup is a coffee / espresso / frozen yogurt / rice pudding shop that I initially visited upon seeing the the claims of "Local, Organic, All Natural" and I reviewed the store on 12/5/08 at yelp.com.

At the time of my first visit, nobody in the store could confirm that the rice pudding was truly local, as I was aware that locally grown rice is quite rare.  So I left my business card and asked if the owner would follow up with me with an answer.  Finally last week, I received my answer:

We use organic rice from Lundberg Family Farms in the Sacramento Valley (which is sort of the rice bowl of CA).  I consider this to be as "local" as we can get for the rice.

 

Lundberg Family Farms is located in Richvale, CA, just south of Chico and approximately 155 miles from where I live.  And so while it's technically outside of my self-imposed 150-mile foodshed radius, it's a pretty good alternative for me.

And so while according to the report "Think Globally, Eat Locally: San Francisco Foodshed Assessment" produced by the American Farmland Trust states:

the only major food group not produced in relative abundance in the region is grain (corn, wheat, rice, etc.)

it appears to me that not only have I found a viable source of local rice, but also a new dessert haven.

And so with an even greater appreciation for this cafe, I ventured back today to eat another cup.  In fact, because I've been locked in my house with a bad cold for over a week, I viewed this journey to be a well deserved luxury, an indulgence in a dear comfort food, and a chance to regain some semblance of humanity.

Seven flavors were available today:  Madagascar vanilla bean, lemon vanilla, white chocolate, pecan pralines, peanut butter and pistachio.  I noticed that the prices have already gone up slightly (about a quarter more per serving) with four sizes available: kids $2.75, small $3.75, medium $4.75 and large $

7.25.  I also noticed they offer toppings or add-ins (more typical of frozen yogurt) for an additional $0.75 that include 'black bottom' (ganache), 'everything nice' (cinnamon & nutmeg), granola, steamed milk, a shot of espresso, or rum raisins.

I tasted a small spoon of the vanilla bean, but settled on a small cup of chai.  It was the perfect antidote to a week of being cooped up in the house and I returned home happier for the outing, and wiser for having walked in the door and asking the staff what truly made their rice pudding local.

The funny thing is, when I returned home and checked my pantry, sure enough, I discovered I already owned a bag of Lundberg Family Farms long grain brown rice.  I may have to make a point of cooking up some rice pudding very soon.

What's Your Favorite Green Thing to Do?

I volunteered at and attended the San Francisco Green Festival Nov. 13 - 16.  The event sponsor was Co-op America whose mission is to harness economic power—the strength of consumers, investors, businesses, and the marketplace—to create a socially just and environmentally sustainable society.

They were taking pictures of people sharing what their favorite green activity is. 

Check out what others are saying.

A Change in Perspective

 

What does a locavore do when she or he leaves the area that they have defined as local?  I left for Albuquerque, New Mexico Monday to spend Thanksgiving week with family and I've been contemplating this concept.

The easy answer would be to "just eat what's local in Albuquerque."  But for anybody who's tried to eat local, it really does take a lot of research and exploration to learn how to do this.

And of course, living in the San Francisco Bay Area, where our foodshed supports a wide variety of crops, and where annually 20 million tons to food is produced around a population that only consumes about 6 million tons allows us the luxury of being able to find almost any local food we should desire with the possible exception of an abundance of grains (corn, wheat and rice), and of course such tropical crops such as coffee and fruits.  We also benefit from a growing season that does not end as a result of winter snow which allows us to shop for an lots of seasonally produced food, even in November and December.

Compare and contrast this with Albuquerque or the entire state of New Mexico for that matter.  Dairy and cattle ranching are the primary agricultural activities in this state, accounting for 75% of revenue.  I should have known this fact.  Dad grew up in Belen New Mexico and I can recall visits to grandma's house where she had cows and goats, but I don't recall any vegetables growing.

 

But water is scarce in this land of enchantment with its high deserts and mountains, so the main crops are hay (used to feed cattle), pecans and nursery products.  And of course when I think of New Mexico, I think of chiles, of which the state is a leading producer.  That's not to say that no vegetable crops are produced in the state.  Small farms in Northern Central and Eastern New Mexico are currently growing beets, broccoli, carrots, cauliflower, red chile, fennel, greens, leeks, potatoes, pumpkins, radishes, winter squash, sweet potatoes as well as apples, grapes and pears. 

But how do I find these foods?  Most farmers' markets in the state are closed for the winter.

Fortunately, there are New Mexicans who seek to eat locally.  I've been able to find magazines and groups and bloggers who share information about supporting the local agricultural community.  There's even a Slow Food group based in New Mexico.

I have a few things I want to explore in my visit this week.  My overly ambitious list includes:

• Conduct a taste test with mom and the family with Bay Area produced Rancho Gordo beans (thanks for the tip Katrina). New Mexicans are serious about their beans;

• Find New Mexico pecans to cook a pecan pie for Thanksgiving;

• Visit a red chile farm;

• Visit the New Mexico Farm & Ranch Heritage museum in Las Cruces;

• Visit a grocery co-op that supports local producers;

• Taste some locally produced beers.

My family thinks I'm slightly daft, but once engaged, they all do enjoy talking and learning about food.  What better time to engage them than during Thanksgiving, where families come together to celebrate each other around food?

Now if I can only find a pinto bean plant to show mom how one of her lifelong staples is actually grown, I'll begin to feel like I've helped her feel more connected to her food before it arrives in her kitchen.

I’ve lost 25 pounds since March and I blame my cooking.

Before

 

After

No, my cooking isn't THAT bad!

But the mere fact that I've eliminated most processed foods and all beverages except for water and coffee (OK, and beer) from my diet, and instead am preparing far more healthy meals than ever before has seemingly been sufficient to do the trick.

For those of you in a hurry, that's the concise version and moral of the story.  For those of you who perhaps enjoy a deeper, more significant back-story, come with me on a small journey filled with disgust, fear, adventure, understanding and action.  It's also one that helped lead me to take on the Eat Local Challenge in October and to continue to explore my relationship with food.

Back in February I was laid off from my job.  I had been working 55-60 hour weeks, getting little to no exercise, and the extent of my cooking was a weekend brunch of a 4-egg omelet, some bacon, fried potatoes and sourdough toast.  Well, that and frozen foods.

During the work week, breakfast was 2-4 cups of black coffee.  Lunch was a sandwich, bag of chips and a soda from Subway or Quiznos, or sometimes a hot dog, chips and a soda from the cart down the street from my office.  Sometimes I'd bypass lunch altogether and sneak in a Pop-tart or bag of microwave popcorn from the office vending machine before the end of the day.  By the time I'd arrive home from work, it would be close to 8pm and I was too tired to cook.  Needless to say the only thing I was seeking was convenience and anything to provide sustenance.  Dinner therefore might be a microwaved burrito, a frozen dinner of some sort, or on the worst of days, fast food from Burger King, Taco Bell, or KFC.

I took advantage of my newfound time off and visited my doctor in early March for my annual physical.  I should point out that the last time I had been in for an "annual" exam was 5 years prior.  I remember lying on my back in the doctor's office, barely able to see the door across the room over the bulge of my belly.  I clearly remember thinking: "Who IS this person and what has he done to my body?"  Doc stated that I had gained 17 pounds since my last visit.  I feigned surprise and asked "Is that a lot for my age?"  Of course I knew the answer.  He sent me off for blood work and asked me to visit again once the results were in.  I visited the lab for the tests, but pushed of scheduling my follow up visit until I returned from a trip I had planned with my dad.

Dad and I traveled to Bhutan and India for 6 weeks in April and May.  We went on a trip through a travel agency and therefore ate mostly buffet style meals at hotels and restaurants while in both countries.  In doing so, however, two important changes happened to me that left an important footprint on my diet.  The first is that we ate three regular, generally balanced meals each day, something I had not been used to.  The second, and probably most important change is that the foods we ate were heavy on vegetables and dairy, and moderate on meat.  In Butan we ate lots of rice (white & red), chiles, cheese, potatoes, green beans and even fiddlehead ferns.  In India it was lots of rice, varieties of daal (lentils), mushrooms, eggplant and many types of beans and nuts.  Meat was available at most every meal, but portions were generally small, or merely as an ingredient in a larger dish that was laden with vegetables.

 

 

A vegetable market in Paro, Bhutan

I had never eaten so little meat over an extended period before, but the food never lacked for flavor (dad and I always requested the Bhutanese national dish of ema datse - cheese with green chiles), nourishment, or enjoyment as we got to experiment and experience new foods.

Jumping into two new, somewhat exotic countries forced a new dietary routine on me and in many ways, made my reevaluate what good and healthy food could and should be.  On our long bus rides between destinations in India, I thought about this in relationship to my fat gut and resolved that when I returned to San Francisco, I would make some healthier choices about my diet.

 

A vegetable market in Varnasi, India

When I returned, I visited the doctor to review the results of my pre-trip blood tests.  While I could boast that I had lost 4 pounds, my cholesterol was extremely high.  I've always flirted with cholesterol around the supposed guideline of 200, but this new result was closer to 300, much higher than it had ever been.  My liver functions were abnormally high.  Doc asked me to refrain from drinking for a month, to start eating more healthily and to take the tests again in a month to see if we could rule out serious illness.  OK, now this was starting to scare me.  But truth be told, I already knew what I needed to do to course correct my diet.

After a month of cleansing, eating better and exercising a bit more, I retook the tests in mid July. This time, the results came back far more favorable than I would have imagined.  My cholesterol had fallen back closer to 200 and my liver was not going to explode.  I had managed to lose another 10 pounds since my last visit and Doc encouraged me to continue with "whatever it is you are doing."  I joked that my goal was to get to the weight on my drivers' license, which had not been changed since I was 22 years old (I'm 43 now).  This would be another 8 pounds.  We both laughed.

August is when I started cooking more than ever before and when I eliminated (not even consciously)  most processed foods from my diet.  Historically, however, my cooking repertoire has always been fairly limited.  When I learned of the Eat Local Challenge, I saw it as an impetus to force me to try new foods and learn new recipes.  To some it may seem counter-intuitive that eating only foods that are in season could expand my recipe collection, but when you don't eat a lot of vegetables in the first place, it really does expand your options.

I'm not going to claim that my desire to Eat Local is only driven by health considerations, because it's not.  I still believe that eating seasonally and locally available foods leads to better flavors, supports the local economy, supports a noble way of the farming lifestyle, and to growing degrees, leads to safer and more environmentally beneficial foods than the alternative.  But I'm not going to complain about the health benefits I've received so far.

And of yeah, I'm already 2 pounds below the weight listed on my drivers' licence.  Maybe 43 is the new 22!

Options to Eating Local: Farmer’s Markets

This is my third installment on ways that you can eat local.  Today I'll share the fifth idea, shopping at Farmers' Markets.

If you're like me and a bit wary of receiving too much farm fresh food from a CSA, or perhaps you just enjoy being outdoors or the experience of shopping, then the Bay Area offers you numerous Farmers' Market options.

I heard on the news the other night that it was former California governor Jerry Brown, in the late 1970's, who was responsible for changing regulations that prohibited farmers from selling directly to consumers.  This led to what has now become an explosion in the number of markets in California.  He's been quoted as saying:

The farmers' markets were another step to giving people an opportunity to take more power over their own lives and also to provide another outlet for organic produce.  That is important because the production and distribution of food is increasingly being monopolized and controlled by large corporate structures, large financial structures.

There are now more than 4,600 Farmers Markets in the U.S. (up from 1,700 in 1994), 600+ in California, and based on my own count, more than 100 in the Bay Area.  Not only have they given greater access and options to people who seek fresh from the farm produce, but they have also transformed cities and markets:

• Between 1987 and 1997, sales of fresh fruits and vegetables in the U.S. have more than doubled to about $70 billion per year;
• In order to better compete with Farmers' Markets, the number of items in the average supermarket produce section has risen from 173 to 335;
• Markets often provide access of fresh fruits and vegetables to urban residents who in some neighborhoods do not have access to a grocery store.  Some markets report receiving as much as half its revenue in the form of scrip from Federal and State anti-hunger programs such as the WIC program;
• Farmers' Markets have been used as the centerpiece in urban development, such as at the Ferry Building in San Francisco, or in being the original anchor in what is now the Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica;
•  Markets serve as community centers, allowing families to spend a morning together, or to attend special events such as concerts, book readings, cooking demonstrations, and tastings.

There are also considerable benefits realized by farmers.  They keep a larger portion of their revenue than what they would get selling to wholesale distributors.  They get cash instead of having to wait weeks to get a check from a wholesale customer.  And they get to build relationships with customers, from chefs to house-dads. 

This is not to say that there isn't a downside to a farmer working a market.  The hours can be long, and at some of the more popular markets, competition can be fierce.  This has resulted in some farms either cutting back on its market visits, or pulling out completely.  Just the other day, I saw a farmer drop his price for pluots from $2 / pound to $0.50 / pound so he could close for the day and return home.

You might be surprised that there is a market located near you.  I told my friend "D" the other day that I had shopped at a market literally around the corner from where she lives, and she was unawares that it existed.  Again, the Community Alliance with Family Farmers has a tremendous resource in its Food Guide where it lists the markets by day of the week and by county in the greater Bay Area.  There's a market every day of the week, except Mondays.  You can do a web search of its database, or you can check out the Google Map I created using the information in the Food Guide.

I like to attend markets because I can people watch; I can ask a question of the farmers about a new food and not feel dumb for asking; I can sample foods; I get to shop outside! 

Last Wednesday I took a bus down to the Heart of the City Farmers Market where I took in the sensations.  This is a truly urban market located at the United Nations Plaza between Market Street on one end and City Hall on the other end.  I bought some Persian cucumbers and green onions from a farm located in San Juan Bautista, and I bought a pound of green grapes from a farm located in Modesto.  I spent a total of $3.

I was amazed at how many people were out and about shopping at 3pm on a Wednesday afternoon.  I briefly wondered how this market compares to those found across the country, but I quickly reminded myself that few places can compare to the bounty we have available to us in San Francisco and around the Bay Area.  I basked in the sunshine of the day and smiled.  Life is good!

If you don’t shop at Farmers’ Markets, what are your reasons?  If you could have somebody shop and deliver from a Farmers’ Market FOR YOU, would you be interested in this service?

Colors (and a Good Tired) from a Farmer's Market

As I walked out of my door this morning, I felt my first Fall chill.  The sky was overcast, moisture dotted the sidewalk and a gentle but persistent breeze made me realize that the season is changing.  Sometimes living in San Francisco, where Summer is typically cold, and the 'real' summer is between September 15 and October 15 reminds us that we have our own micro-climate and that is yet another  reason why the rest of the country can call us strange and odd and even bizarre. 

I was on my way to visit the Ferry Plaza Farmer's Market with two goals in mind:

1. Pick up a copy of the comparative research of farmer's market prices versus mega-mart prices that Dave Stockdale mentioned at the Commonwealth Club presentation I had attended earlier in the week;
2. Find FRESH EGGS!

I jumped on the Muni 45 to Stockton & Broadway, transferred to the Muni 12 and found myself dropped off across the street from the market.  I've been to the Ferry Building many times, but never to the farmer's market.  At first I was slightly disappointed that there seemed to be only about two-dozen stands set up along the Embarcadero, but after I went to the information booth to ask whether any eggs were being sold today (answer: at least 3 farms were selling eggs), I quickly realized that the market also lined the backside of the building and where at least 60 more farm stands were in place.

After spying some cippolini onions at the Heirloom Organic Gardens booth, I added one more goal to my day:  Buy ingredients to cook a large Sunday morning breakfast.  So I added some cilantro to my bag of onions, picked up a half-dozen small Grade A Pullet eggs from Eatwell Farm, grabbed a dozen stone ground handmade organic corn tortillas from Primavera, selected a yellow pepper from Madison Growers, and picked up an assortment of small heirloom tomatoes (Early Girl, Pink Brandywine, Persimmon Orange & Black Prince varieties) from Lucero Organic Farms. 

As I left the plaza, the sun had broken through the sky.  I removed my sweatshirt and soaked the sun's rays on my face and arms, noticed that the Embarcadero was bustling and smiled at having accomplished my goals for the morning.  I also realized that from the time I left my home to the time I left the market, three hours had already passed.  I was feeling a bit lazy, perhaps even tired, but I remember immediately asking myself "how can busy parents afford to make this time commitment?"  And then I remembered a passage I once read in the book Five Secrets You Must Discover Before You Die, by John Izzo:

My grandfather, who, as I have said, was one of the wise elders in my life, used to talk about having a "good tired" at the end of a given day.  He contrasted this with a "bad tired."  He told me that a "good tired" was when you lived your life focusing on the things that really mattered to you. A "bad tired" he said often comes even when it looks like we are winning, but we realize we are not being true to ourselves.  It seems to me that the first element of knowing ourselves is figuring out what makes up a "good tired" day for us.

As you look at the following pictures, I wish you (and particularly you parents) a good tired weekend!

Returning to What Once Was

Following up on a theme that Ari Derfel made to close the Commonwealth Club presentation I attended Wednesday night, I came across an article yesterday written by Bryant Terry (who was one of the people featured by the the New York Times last weekend).  I read it in edible San Francisco magazine, but it originally appeared on TheRoot.com and is entitled Reclaiming True Grits .

Bryant talks about how today's soul food has been pigeonholed and mass produced into an unhealthy version that no longer resembles the foods of his grandparents, where it was created primarily using local ingredients (I suppose you could also replace "soul food" with any traditional American food, for that matter).  He poignantly writes:

When I think of the soul food my grandparents and their parents ate, I do have some fond memories of deep-fried meats, overcooked leafy greens, and sugary desserts occasionally making a cameo on our menu.  But I also recall lightly sauteed okra, corn, and tomatoes from their "natural" backyard garden in South Memphis.  Devine recollections abound of butchered-that-morning herb-roasted chicken from Paw Paw's coop;  "grit cakes" fashioned from breakfast leftovers and then grilled alongside pulled pork; Ma'Dear's chutney made from peaches that came from Miss Cole's mini-orchard next door; and fresh watermelon purchased from a flatbed truck on the side of the road and served with salt sprinkled on each slice.

And I can picture an entire family sitting around a large table, swapping stories about that day's events with smiles on everybody's face and laughter filling the air.

I'm sure the foods that Bryant describe were better tasting and healthier for him than the canned, mass produced and quickly made versions of today, but he also describes a symbiotic system in which farmers and growers supported households and where households wanted (and needed) what these local producers offered.  It's been done before.  It can be done again!

I know that limited resources (time and money mostly) have taken many of our generation away from these daily communal celebrations.  But at what cost?  Bryant has indelible memories of these shared moments and is taking action to convince others that they are worth attaining, worth keeping and certainly worth treasuring.

What's stopping YOU from making an effort to achieve this for yourself?

How Chefs, Farmers and Artisans Strengthen our Community

I attended one of the Commonwealth Club Speaker events that is sponsored by Eat Local SF as part of the October Eat Local Challenge.  This event was entitled "From Farm to Feast: How chefs, farmers and artisans strengthen our community."

It began with a local food and beverage reception where Butterfly restaurant served a Thai chicken noodle soup, Kika's Treats (a graduate of the La Cocina food incubator program) served Brazilian Honey Cakes with Dark Chocolate and Caramelized Graham Crackers with Milk Chocolate, Back to Earth Catering served an assortment of olives, meats & cheeses, there was a platter of meats and cheeses from Boccalone and from Cowgirl Creamery , and wine from Buckland Winery.

The presentation was comprised of a diverse panel that included:

• Joan Simon - current co-chair of Eat Local SF and a food industry consultant via her practice Full Plate Consulting;
• Sue Conley - founder and co-owner of Cowgirl Creamery, an artisan maker of cheeses based in Point Reyes Station and with a retail store at the Ferry Building Marketplace;
• Jered Lawson - farmer and owner of Pie Ranch , a farm located in Davenport (San Mateo County) and of Mission Pie, a retail bakery located in San Francisco that uses ingredients from the farm;
• Ari Derfel - owner of Back to Earth Catering, a 100% organic catering business that is a subset of a larger Back to Earth  concept that includes mountain yoga and other outdoor retreats;
• Dave Stockdale - Executive Director of CUESA (Center for Urban Education about Sustainable Agriculture), an organization that educates and creates links between urban dwellers and farmers.  CUESA also manages the Ferry Plaza Farmer's Market.

Each of the panelists gave a brief background of how they've arrived at their current place as spokespeople for the local food movement, and they shared stories and their visions for how local foods develop a sense of community.

• Joan made a point that dining at a restaurant is not only about eating food, but about how dining is a way to share time and moments with people who are a part of our communities;
• Sue shared stories of how Marin County has been able to sustain farming by dedicating one-third of its land to agriculture, and how farmers have been able to organize and sustain themselves through groups such as Marin Organic  to expand the number of certified organic farms, and to help what was once 5 farms selling direct to consumers to grow to 45 farms;
• Jered discussed his outreach programs to area high schools to bring school kids to the farm, show them the "seed to meal" process and to hopefully develop apprentices who embrace agriculture as a livelihood;
• Ari discussed how he sees part of his greater mission in life being to bring people together around organic food, and how preparing loving meals for hard working people is a way to nourish them (physically and spiritually) and to celebrate their efforts to make the world a better place;
• Dave talked about how chefs are increasingly working in concert with specific farms to plant new crops for use in their restaurants and how consumers ultimately benefit from these alliances.  He also talked about the many educational programs run by CUESA to bring urbanites in closer contact with farmers, be it Farmer's Markets or farm visits and tours.

The most interesting portion of the evening came during the Q&A session, when the audience asked how the local food movement can expand to the mainstream, beyond the audience members who have already drunken the proverbial Kool-Aid.  The answers were diverse, ranging from the abstract to concrete, and included:

• Ask retail workers where their foods and other merchandise come from.  Tell them you prefer to buy locally sourced and produced products;
• To overcome perceptions that food from Farmer's Markets are often more expensive than that found at mega-marts, share the results of research studies completed by CUESA and a (unnamed) Seattle group that show Farmer's Market prices to be comparable and sometimes less expensive than that found at national chains [NOTE: I plan to find these studies and share the findings];
• Point them to existing resources and organizations such as Eat Local SF, Community Alliance with Family Farmers , CUESA, or Local Harvest .

My personal observations from the responses is that while there are plenty of resources available to help motivated urban consumers to make eating local a commitment, it's still not simple enough education or services available to make it an easy transition to make for the average American family.  Changing consumer behavior is a very difficult thing to do (absent of any crisis). But that just means that there is an opportunity for somebody to find a consumer solution that makes it easier for more families to make this a choice.  Whoever figures it out will surely bring tremendous value to all participants of this movement.

Ari made a very insightful comment to wrap up the evening when he said (and I'm paraphrasing here):

This is a movement not motivated by profit, but by a desire to reconnect to a way of life that once was.  We're not trying to create something new here.  Rather, it's returning to something that once was.  The knowledge and the wisdom to do so is already out there.

What would persuade you to start eating local more often?

Oh yeah, Jered gave away some Sonoma wheat stalks (he said they are an heirloom wheat variety - but I couldn't find any information about it on the web) anmd challenged each of us to plant the seeds for harvest in August 2009.

You’re a Loca-what?

Oxford University Press, the publishers of the Oxford Dictionary, selected the word “locavore” as the word of the year for 2007.  From the press release.   

The past year saw the popularization of a trend in using locally grown ingredients, taking advantage of seasonally available foodstuffs that can be bought and prepared without the need for extra preservatives.

 

The “locavore” movement encourages consumers to buy from farmers’ markets or even to grow or pick their own food, arguing that fresh, local products are more nutritious and taste better. Locavores also shun supermarket offerings as an environmentally friendly measure, since shipping food over long distances often requires more fuel for transportation.

 

“The word ‘locavore’ shows how food-lovers can enjoy what they eat while still appreciating the impact they have on the environment,” said Ben Zimmer, editor for American dictionaries at Oxford University Press. “It’s significant in that it brings together eating and ecology in a new way.”

 

"Locavore" was coined two years ago by four women in San Francisco who proposed that local residents should try to eat only food grown or produced within a 100-mile radius.  Other regional movements have emerged since then, though some groups refer to themselves as "localvores" rather than "locavores."  However it's spelled, it's a word to watch.

Those four women are Jen Maiser, Jessica Prentice, Sage Van Wing, and DeDe Sampson, and they created a website  that provides great resources for anybody willing and able to join this movement. At this site, they state that: “We recognize that the choices we make about what foods we choose to eat are important politically, environmentally, economically, and healthfully.”  I’d like to suggest that eating tastier food is another amazing by-product of making this commitment.

How much do you consider the effects of transporting your food great distances to have an impact on global warming?  Would you care more if you knew truly how far your food traveled to get to you?