Eating Well

Feeding ourselves is one of the most essential tasks of our everyday life. It is a necessity of survival; we literally have to eat in order to survive. But for many of us it can be a daily hassle, a time-consuming activity in an already packed schedule, a source of stress and confusion. We get so many messages (constantly changing, it seems) about what we should or shouldn't feed ourselves and our families to feel good and be healthy. We are overwhelmed by the wealth of choices presented to us, from where to do our grocery shopping (Farmers market? Food coop? Supermarket? Big box store?) to what ethnic cuisine (Thai? Italian? Mexican?) to draw from as we plan our meals. With so many choices, and so many voices telling us about the latest diet fad that will transform our lives (In 3 easy steps! Informed by the latest nutritional science!), no wonder the task of feeding ourselves is daunting. Who has time for all this hassle in our busy lives? How can we be certain that we're feeding our families well? Is it even possible to enjoy the process?

These are questions that I think about a lot. Over the years I've developed an approach to feeding myself that works well for me and that gives me a lot of joy. Don't get me wrong, there are days when dinner is a bowl of cereal before tumbling into bed. But the way I think about food has changed over time, and it's an approach that I would like to share with the people around me. I think you all might enjoy the discussion. And if my thoughts on the topic help you to develop a more satisfying relationship with your own food, then hurray! I will feel like I've accomplished something important.

Maybe we should step back a little bit. How did our ancestors eat? How does much of the world's population eat today in parts of the world where markets don't have fifteen kinds of frozen pizza and an entire aisle dedicated to chips and soda. If we look at the food traditions of the world, they vary widely in what foods are actually consumed, but what each of them has in common is that they have evolved over hundreds of years in a particular place. They have been dependent upon what edible things can grow sustainably (read: indefinitely) in that place. I see each distinct cuisine as essentially the expression of the sun's energy in that particular climate. Why does the traditional food of Norway feature lots of fish and potatoes, in contrast to Mexico's beans and hot chilies or Italy's eggplant and basil? Because that's what grows and thrives in that part of the world. Another interesting thing about ancient food traditions is that they have to be pretty healthy, at least healthy enough for populations to reproduce. Think about it: foods that make people sick in a culture where medicine can't easily undo the damage must eventually be eliminated from the diet. Even herbs and spices play a role beyond creating pleasing flavors. Have you ever wondered why black pepper, for example, is such a ubiquitous spice? I have asked myself this because I don't particularly like the flavor of black pepper. It turns out that it has preservative qualities, so it helps perishable foods from spoiling too quickly. The same goes for cinnamon, cayenne, and dozens of other herbs and spices that flavor our food. I personally think this kind of thing is fascinating, nerd that I am, but I'll save deeper delving for another post.

So, back to our ancestors' approach to food: eating the freshest and tastiest plants and animals that grow in the place we live. How does that work in the modern world? I think there are a couple of ways we can approach this. One is to eat with the seasons, depending mostly on foods grown close to home, and another is to re-establish and strengthen our food communities. I'll go into much more detail in the future on both of these points, but for now I'll keep it simple.

Of course the most extreme version of local, seasonal eating is growing your
own.  And then you get the sweet little pleasures of gardening, such as
witnessing the curled flower stems (or scapes) on garlic plants.  Such fun!

Eating locally and in season means eating fresh vegetables at the time of year when they can be harvested in our region (asparagus in spring and berries in summer, for example). If you occasionally want to eat foods out of season, then your best bet is to buy ones that were preserved at their peak of freshness. For example, canned tomatoes are the way to go in February. Remember this can be a guideline, not a strict rule, so you don't have to feel guilty about that basket of blueberries you splurged on in December. Find the right balance for your own family and lifestyle.

Strengthening our food communities means getting to know the people involved in producing and handling your food. I'll expand on this idea in my next post, so stay tuned!