I love local food. I adore the Farmer’s Market, the sense of community, talking with those dedicated folks who eschew the big bucks in lieu of a more meaningful life. People with amazing knowledge and tough jobs--sustaining our families with fresh, healthy, drug-hormone-pesticide-free food.
I grow heirloom vegetables. Take a look at one day’s harvest this summer:
I sell heirloom vegetable plants. I’m a composting, seed-obsessed former PR girl turned farmer-wanna be.So today’s challenge to eat locally was a piece of cake, right?
More like a Twinkie.
Here’s what the Adolfs ate today:
Breakfast:
Farm-fresh, free-range organic eggs--the yolks for the dogs, the white for us. So far, so good.
Biscuits. Before you nominate me for Mom-of-the-Year, you need to know--they were from a can. Pillsbury. I'm not sure how many miles those biscuits traveled, but they sure weren’t from around here. (“I know where my breakfast came from,” said Peter. “Our oven. How much more local can it be?” Ha, ha...what a funny guy.) I suppose we could have gone to Krispy Kreme, watched them make donuts, and eaten them “Hot and Ready Now.” Our breakfast would have been just as local, I suppose...maybe more so.
Pear for Kristen. Not local, I’m sure--although it was from our local Publix.
Diet Coke for me...yep, still haven’t kicked the habit, but I haven’t gone back to the wicked cans.
Lunches for Kids:
Sliced cheddar cheese--nope, not local.
Cookies...damn, there’s that Pillsbury again.
Cheez-Its. Now, that’s healthy.
Applesauce in a plastic cup for Kristen, mixed fruit for Michael.
Not one bite of local food in those lunch boxes.
Lunch for Peter and Me:
Wednesdays are our “lunch dates”--I work with him at our company in the a.m. while Mikey’s at preschool, then we go out for lunch. We really tried to find a restaurant serving local food. Really. Instead, we ate at a new Mediterranean place, Sahara. Nothing local there, but it was yummy. Lamb, hummus, rice...mmmmm.
Snack for kids:
Leftover homemade apple pie made with (you guessed it) Pillsbury Crust. Fortunately, the apples originated at Nivens’ Apple Farm, only about 10 minutes from our house. Whew.
Dinner
Fuddrucker’s.
Yes, you read that right--big, fat, greasy cheeseburgers, hotdog for Mikey, chicken tenders for Kristen. Fries for all.
Oh.
What happened?
Just this week, I bragged about my homemade pesto created from the last of our basil. I’ve made three batches of tomato sauce from our more than 80 heirloom tomato plants. I shop at the Farmer’s Market. I search out local producers, we pick berries and freeze them, I drive to Woodruff for free-range chicken and eggs, I own a food mill, for goodness sakes! How did we screw up so badly today?
Here’s my epiphany:
It’s hard work to eat locally.
I hate to admit it, but it’s true. You need to get your butt out of bed on Saturday mornings to visit the Farmer’s Market. You must learn to cook seasonal food--some of which might be outside your comfort zone. Did I know how to cook Thai eggplant before my farmer friend gave me some tips? Nope, I didn’t even know what that funky little veggie was.
If you’re not a vegetarian--and we’re omnivores at our house--you need to track down local providers of sustainably raised, humanely treated, drug-free meat...and not think too much about those chickens looking at you. You’ll also be shelling out more money for this food. The good news is--your local farmer actually gets to keep some of this money to reinvest in sustainable farming, rather than your money disappearing into the mega agri-corporations that shortchange farmers and hire lobbyists so they can continue to produce sub-par food.
Once you’ve gathered your produce and hunted for your meat--you’re still not done.
You have to cook it. You need to create a meal.
We are creatures of convenience. It’s become a necessity. Most families consist of dual career parents with kids that are scheduled to the max--schoolwork, soccer, ballet, piano, religion classes, baseball, football, volunteering...it’s a finely-oiled family machine that ensures everyone gets to their activities on time. Of course, it’s easier to eat at Fuddrucker’s after a busy day of work, piano lessons for two, horseback riding for one...especially when riding ends at 7 p.m. Should we head home (a 40-minute drive), start preparing a lovely, locally produced meal and feed the kids at 8:30 or 9 p.m...or cram some crap into them so they can get to bed at a decent time?
Well. You know our decision.
I’m not proud of us today. The thing is--I only work outside our home one morning per week. Sure, I have plenty of work with my heirloom plant business, but at least I’m home--where I can multitask, cooking local food while ordering seeds. I can get the family fed with healthful, local food and still get the kids in bed before midnight.
I have the time to hunt and gather.
Still, I remember too well the stress of working full-time and trying to feed a picky-eater. Tyler’s diet during those days consisted of hot dogs, Kraft Macaroni-and-Cheese (in various shapes for variety, like Pokemon), and chicken nuggets. Oh--and ketchup. Surprisingly, he turned out to be a pesto-eating, bruschetta-loving healthy young adult.
I suppose the point to this rambling is...
We’re having a do-over. Tomorrow. We’re going to eat locally if it kills us. As my faithful sidekick (aka husband) pointed out today, we’re taking part in the No Impact Experiment for a year, not just this week. Hopefully, Wednesdays will be our only blip in the local-food endeavor.Also, we’re just muddling through and trying our best.
Today wasn’t our best effort. But it’s life. We’ll be better tomorrow.
Speaking of tomorrow--I’m going to post some terrific local producers for you to check out. Some you can meet at the Hub-City Farmer’s Market, some you need to take a field-trip to find...but you’ll be glad you did!If you are ga-ga over certain local farmers, please share your faves here!
I’ve found the perfect juice box that is fully recyclable, economical, and manufactured using 85% less packaging than its counterpart. The best part is:
It’s for us. The grownups.
“Cask” wine is the preferred term for the Bag-in-Box (BIB) products we’ve seen creeping onto the shelves of grocery stores and big box retailers like Target. I’ve blatantly ignored them.
Until now.
I’m not a wine snob. Really. Well, maybe a little bit. It’s not as if I really know much about wine, I simply find a few that I like and stick with them. Pinot Noir is my favorite fall/winter wine, and Pinot Grigio is my spring/summer wine. I’m a sucker for label design. If it’s an interesting label, I’ll try it. If it’s about $10, I’ll buy it. If it’s Italian, I’ll love it. See how logically I make my wine selections?
Perhaps my wine expertise stems from my early career days, as a young marketing girl in the big, exciting publishing world. My friend, Katie, and I spent a lot of time discussing lipstick shades when we probably should have been writing press releases or some other nonsense. Anyway, we were thrilled when our company ousted the current male publisher and brought on board a bright, young female publisher. A mentor! Someone to guide us in growing our careers in the (then) male-dominated publishing world!
I remember how impressed I was when, during an author dinner, our new publisher effortlessly ordered wine for the table. “Simi Chardonnay,” she commanded. I was awed by her knowledge of wine.
Well, after numerous dinners where she ordered “Simi Chardonnay” for everyone, I realized that her knowledge of wine was about as vast as her knowledge of publishing. She lasted six months.
In my mind, I equate a lovely bottle of wine, complete with a beautifully designed label, as tasting delicious. Now, you know and I know that’s crap. It’s all about the grape...and the soil where it grew...and the weather...and the harvest time...and...and...and...
Anyway, I just haven’t been able to get myself to buy a box of wine. It seems too collegiate to me, like I’m going to a kegger and the frat boys made sure to have some boxes of wine for the prissy girls who didn’t drink beer. (Note to Tyler: I never drank before I was 21, and you better not either!!! Ahem.)
So, I’ve snubbed the boxes and continued buying bottles of wine. I’m sad to say Peter and I can no longer finish a bottle in one evening without feeling pain the next day. Sometimes we save it, but often the remaining wine gets dumped.
Perhaps it’s time to try a cask. All in the name of research for our family project, of course.
First of all--and some might say most importantly--the engineering of the cask is ideal for people like us. We like a glass of wine with dinner or after the kids go to bed, but we don’t consume the entire bottle. The design of the cask prevents oxidation--the vacuum-sealed bag protects wine from air exposure. As the wine is poured, the bag collapses on itself without letting air reach the wine. The specially designed spigot prevents air from contacting the wine until poured, which ensures the wine’s quality. The packaging preserves the wine’s flavor and freshness for a minimum of six weeks. “The last glass is always as good as the first,” states the Better Wines, Better World website. (www.betterwinesbetterworld.com)
How’s the quality? Approximately 99% of the wine sold in the U.S. is considered table wine--that is, it can be consumed as soon as it is released into the market. Only a small minority of wine is “aged.” For many wine producers, the packaging is the only difference in their bottled versus box wines. The production methods are exactly the same--except packaging.
We’ve all seen the movies where the pretentious actor swirled his wine and declared to the wine steward that it “tasted of cork.” Did you know that approximately 5% of wine is affected by cork taint? That results in the disposal of more than 40 Olympic-sized swimming pools full of wine. An additional benefit of the cask packaging? No cork taint.
What about the value? An average bottle of wine costs approximately $9. An average cask contains the same volume of wine as four bottles. The average price per box? Approximately $19. For good stuff. Yum.
Now, here’s the real kicker and the reason I’m finally thinking about boxed wine: environmental impact.
The Bag-in-Box packaging generates less than 1/2 the carbon footprint of glass wine bottles. The energy used to produce the packaging and to transport the wine is significantly less than required for glass bottles. BIBs result in 85% less packaging waste than glass, eliminating the heavy glass bottle, capsule, neck band, cork, front label and back label. If all of the consume-upon-release wines sold in the U.S. were converted to BIB packaging, we would save 1.5 million tons of carbon dioxide per year, which would be the equivalent of removing 250,000 cars from the roads.
Additionally, while glass wine bottles are recyclable, more energy is necessary to recycle four bottles versus one cardboard box. The bag is also recyclable with #7 plastics.
So, in the interest of research, I’m going to pick up some wine. In a box.
I’ll let you know how it is...
And, for my book club friends, I think I might have a little box wine sampling Friday night to get your opinions.
What do you drink? Box or bottle? What would you think if a friend showed up with a box of wine versus a bottle for a party? Would you think “Cheapo” or “Eco-Goddess”? And, would you willingly drink wine from a box?
I'm all for it. Really. My blood runs green. It does.
I compost.
I raise heirloom plants.
I own a Prius.
What got me thinking about our Greenism is this:
A friend and I went to see the movie, Fresh. Now, for those of you who don't know about this fine film honoring the local farmer, a quick warning...do not plan to go out for dinner afterward, especially for chicken.
I knew what I was getting into by seeing the film, but hey--I had been housebound with sick kids all week. Two hours to sit quietly with a glass of wine versus listening to my sweet kiddos whines--it appealed to me.
Of course, after watching the film, I swore I would never eat mass-produced food again, I would patronize the local farmer, I would eradicate all of the bad choices I make on a daily basis and SAVE THE WORLD.
Then I went home, had a Diet Coke and an Oreo.
But I digress...
What really made me think about our Greenism was the conversation that followed the film. A terrific group of panelists shared their reactions to the film and answered questions from the audience. Panel members included a young, local farmer who grows his produce using sustainable, natural methods. He's like a rock-star of arugula and a genuinely nice guy. A former professor shared lovely muscadines with the audience from his berry farm. A husband and wife team that provides hormone-free, antibiotic-free meats got a little earthy and read some poetry. Plus there was a professor from Clemson, a horticultural powerhouse of a university. These individuals truly know their stuff...they don't preach, they don't instill guilt, they are just good people doing their jobs and helping the environment at the same time.
But as the discussion opened for "questions," a few audience members felt the need to showcase their vast knowledge of environmental doomsday-ness. Listening to the spewed statistics about petrochemicals used in farming (which this panel does not USE, lady!), I found myself tuning out.
Which is my point.
Why is there this disconnent between living a green life and, well, living? Why do some individuals feel the need for Green superiority, when some of us are just trying to do the best we can to positively impact the environment?
Shouldn't there be an easier way to make lifestyle changes that support a healthy environment without expending tremendous amounts of time and money?
And how can the average mom, one who works, volunteers, runs the kids to karate, soccer, piano, you name it...how can she guide her family on the path to Green-ness without breaking the grocery budget and adding more stress to an already stress-filled life?
How can I do this?
So, in the blog-honored tradition of Julie Powell, my task in the next year is this:
I plan to minimize my family's impact on the environment. I'll keep track of what works, what doesn't, and hopefully find some useful tips to share. I won't preach, I won't be perfect, and God knows, I'll never be No Impact Man...but we're going to try. A little bit every day.
