Food communities – Know Your Farmer

I mentioned food communities in a previous post; if you know your grocer, maybe you'll get better groceries, or at the very least you'll have a better time doing your shopping. I'd like to suggest taking it a step further: know your farmer. Now there are a number of ways to do this. One is to go to the farmers market and chat up the folks at the various booths. You can meet some interesting people this way, and if you ask the right questions you can learn a lot about what grows well around here, what's especially tasty at a given time of year, and what it's like to farm for the local community.

Another way to get to know your farmer is to participate in a CSA. For those of you unfamiliar with the acronym, “CSA” stands for “community-supported agriculture”, and it's basically another name for a subscription farm share. I'm just finishing up my second season of participating in a farm share. I've shared a large family-size share with my close friend/neighbor and her husband. This was something I had intended to do for some time, and once I did it, it completely exceeded my expectations. I can honestly say it has completely transformed the way that I cook.

It took me a while to bite the bullet and join a CSA because I was daunted by the price. Most farms require paying up front for all or a significant portion of the season. That means writing a check for several hundred dollars, a bit much to ask for someone on a tight budget. But then I sat down and did the math. The big check was intimidating, but if I calculated the cost per week for a bag full of produce, it turns out I would be getting a great deal. As long as I cooked everything that I got, rather than letting things shrivel up in the crisper drawer, the farm share would be an incredible bargain. That means that a farm share only makes sense if you cook regularly...and it also helps motivate you to cook regularly to avoid wasting the tasty veggies that will soon be joined with another bag of tasty veggies next week.

These are the contents of my latest share (minus the butternut squash that I
roasted and devoured last night): beets, potatoes, squash, leeks, celeriac,
spinach, rapini, and mizuna greens.  Grown a few miles away, the greens all
picked a few hours before I picked them up.  Doesn't get much better than this.

There are three main things that I love about my farm share. One is getting to know the person who grows my veggies. The farm we belong to, Big Leaf Farm, is run by farmer Chris with the part-time help of his wife. Chris is an incredibly smart, thoughtful, and hard-working farmer. He's still pretty new to this CSA gig, but he seems to have a natural talent for it, and really cares about growing fantastic food for the dozens of families that have shares. He writes a great newsletter every week with updates on what's happening on the farm, recipes for what's in the share, and his thoughts on food politics and other issues pertinent to growing veggies.

The second thing I love about my CSA is that it has completely changed my process of deciding what to cook (and eat) each day. Instead of planning a menu for the week or a meal for the evening based on what I might be in the mood for (or what comes to mind as I rack my brain for ideas), I plan my meals based on what fresh veggies I received in my weekly share. And I use the term 'plan' loosely. This usually involves me standing with the fridge open, scanning the collection of roots, leaves, stems, and fruits that crowd the lower shelves. Then I pull a few out that seem like they might go well together and build a meal around them. This is the sort of thing that gets easier with practice, and it also works better if you can be open-minded about flavors and atypical combinations. Occasionally a meal might turn out a little unorthodox, but sometimes there are pleasant surprises to be found. You'll learn pretty quickly what flavor combinations you like. As you get some practice at this process, you'll also learn what other items to keep handy in your pantry and fridge for adding to your veggies. This will depend on what you and your family enjoy eating, but if you'd like some ideas, I'll discuss a few of my staples and how I use them in my next post.

The third thing that I love about my CSA is that the food is simply delicious. Really, I knew that the tomatoes would be head and shoulders above supermarket pseudo-tomatoes, but the carrots? I had no idea they could be this sweet flavorful. And don't get me started on the leeks, beets, squash, and kale. I could go on and on (and certainly will in the future). Oh, man, is it dinner time yet?

Do any of you have experience with a CSA? How have you liked it? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

And this is the time of year when farms are accepting new subscriptions; find one in your neck of the woods here.

In the Kitchen: Veggie Burgers

Earlier this week I went through a process in the kitchen that is one of my favorites: adapting a recipe to fit what I happen to have in the kitchen. The recipe was for black bean burgers, one I'd come across on one of the blogs I read regularly called Angry Chicken. I've made these black bean burgers successfully several times; they are bound with oatmeal and feature the flavors of fresh cilantro, garlic, and cumin. They are great served with avocado, jack cheese, lettuce, and tomato. I wanted to make them again, but I didn't have any black beans in my cupboard (and didn't have time to soak and cook dried beans). However, I did have a can of garbanzo beans. I could have made the recipe as written, just swapping the beans since the flavor wouldn't be that different, but I thought it might be more interesting if instead I tried adapting it to a food tradition that contains garbanzos...a Mediterranean food tradition in contrast to the original Mexican flavoring. I decided to go with Italian. Here's what the original recipe contained:

black beans

rolled oats

grated carrots

cilantro

canned tomatoes

garlic

green onions

salt, cumin, and chili powder

So the first swap was garbanzos for the the black beans. The oats could stay, since they waere just a starch to hold everything together and didn't contribute to the flavor. I figured the carrots could stay too, since I had one in the fridge and wanted some veggies in there. The cilantro had to go, and the perfect Italian substitute would be basil. I didn't have any fresh, but I did have some little cubes of basil in the freezer. Next, the tomatoes. Those definitely would stay. Same with garlic. I didn't have any green onions, but wanted something oniony, so decided to use the leek languishing in my crisper drawer (is that Italian? Not sure, but close enough). Salt definitely had to stay, but the other spices didn't seem appropriate. However, these burgers were going to be a little bland if I didn't find something to take the place of the spices. I looked to my spice rack for ideas, and didn't see anything appealing, but then I remembered the little block of really good Parmesan in my fridge. As I dug that our, my eye landed on the little bag of pine nuts. Perfect! Both would add a little richness and enhance the flavor in a very Mediterranean way. I grated a nice little pile of cheese and threw in a small handful of nuts.

The burgers turned out to be a great success! The cheese made them smell like pizza as they baked, which was heavenly. The basil cubes had unfortunately lost nearly all of their flavor since they'd been in my freezer for who knows how long, so next time I will definitely use fresh or add some basil pesto. These burgers (both versions) have a very nice firm texture; the oats do an amazing job of binding everything together as they bake. They freeze really well, and then they can be reheated in the toaster with no risk of falling apart or oozing all over the place. My only complaint is that their proportion of starch is a little much for my taste. I'd like to incorporate more green veggies (maybe kale - can't go wrong with kale) and more protein and healthy fats, probably in the form of nuts. I would probably add pepitas, or pumpkin seeds, to the black bean version, and more pinenuts to the garbanzo version. And maybe I could do a Greek version with oregano and feta? Or an Indian version with lentils and curry? The possibilities are endless. What do you think? What other translations could be made of this recipe? Is there an item in your fridge that could offer inspirations?

I'd love to hear your ideas!

Food Communities: Know Your Grocer

In my last post I mentioned that one way to eat better is to get to know some of the people who bring us our food.  Let's think about this some more.

When we go to the grocery store, how do we know if something is fresh or nutritious? True, we can look for the “local” and “organic” signs and scrutinize nutritional labels on boxes, keeping in mind whatever the latest news story tells us we should or shouldn't be eating. But I'd like like to suggest something different: what if instead of depending on a label to guide our choices, we actually get to know some of the people who sell us our food? Better yet, why don't we get to know the people who grow our food? One of the greatest things we've lost as our modern food system has become globalized is our food community, that network of relationships between those who grow and make food and all of us who eat it. Our industrial food system is one in which what was once personal has become anonymous. With anonymity comes a loss of personal responsibility, a loss of incentive to create foods that ARE good rather than only LOOK good.

Each of us has the power to start mending these broken relationships, to rebuild our food communities. If you shop at the same grocery store each week (most of us do), you can start by paying attention to who you see in the produce, meat, bakery, and dairy departments. You see some familiar faces, right? Well say hello! Introduce yourself, ask a question, make a suggestion. Ask which variety of apple was grown closest to the store. Mention that you would really like the option to buy grass-fed beef. If the bread you bought last week was really tasty, tell them so! If you're planning a special meal and want to know which fish is the freshest, just ask! Get to know the people who bring you your food, and let them get to know you a little. Don't you think that they'll have more incentive to get the best for you if you're not just another anonymous body in the store? Won't grocery shopping be more enjoyable for you if you chat with some familiar folks while you're there? You'll find that even in a big chain grocery store, employees will happily order things especially for you if you ask nicely and give plenty of advance notice. Don't be afraid to make things personal (this coming from an admitted introvert). It will transform your experience of shopping for food, and take a little bit of the stress out of that part of the process. Plus, it's probably the way your great-grandmother did it.

Don't you feel a little bit better already knowing that you don't have to do it all alone?

You can take this a step further by getting to know not just your grocer, but your farmer.  I'll talk about this in another post.

Fostering a deeper connection to those who produce our food can enrich
the lives of our children as well.

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!