What We Need Is Here

Beyond Home-Cookin' and the Waltons

Sometimes the “localist" movement is criticized for being based on nostalgia for times past. It is true that there's some recognition that we've gone too far in the wrong direction and need to turn back to get on the right track. There is also a tendency to look askance at the ugliness and monotony inherent in chain stores and sprawl compared to old-fashioned village centers and downtowns. And maybe there's a longing in there for our grandmother's soup or reworked hand-me-downs, and an appreciation of the skills required to produce them.  It's true that there is some backward glancing, but I think it's based firmly in the present - with an eye to the future. 

In a recent interview in the World Ark, interviewer Lauren Wilcox asks Wendell Berry if he thinks the main problem with the long distances between producer and consumer is the isolation - the lack of community -  it creates for the consumer. His response: “No, the main problem is the permanent depletion of resources.” 

This seems true to me, and it's worrisome.  And it’s why the idea living locally goes way beyond "lifestyle" or a nostalgic wish to live like “the Walton’s” or Little House on the Prairie” or like any story or dream of the past.   We’re running out of the resources that made the American dream of unending growth and ever-expanding “wealth” possible. And we're already beginning to suffer the consequences.

Many pretty smart people believe that we are near or past our peak of global oil production (peak oil), and that from here on out it’s only going to get scarcer and way more expensive.  There are a lot of smart people, too, who are noting that the effects of climate change are happening at a faster pace than projected just a few years ago.  Either of those two things have the potential for radical change in our economic and agricultural situation.  Both together are likely going to be devastating to our "lifestyles" and to the very lives of the world's poor. 

Poor quality food shipped long distances, the emptiness of consumerism, the loss of farmland to suburban sprawl - all of these things can and do strike a chord of nostalgia for a very recent past when people lived much closer to the source of their needs and didn't seem to "need" as much. Wendell Berry is right. Our ways have isolated us and created an impoverished way of life, the loss inherent in which leads many of us longing for “the good old days.”  But the real problem is that it’s not sustainable. 

We can begin to change willingly now. Or we can wait until disaster – more wars for oil and other resources, high food prices, expensive fuel, and a crashing economy force us to change.  We're trying to take steps toward living a more responsible life now. I wonder, though, if we should be jogging.

North Florida February Borscht

I don't love beets.  But when I saw them at the farmers’ market this week, I bought some anyway. Maybe it was smiling Mr. Graham from Graham farms.  Or maybe because they were so pretty…

Then, strangely, while I was out walking the dog later that afternoon, my neighbor Harold handed me a cabbage.  This doesn't happen normally either. His wife works for the agriculture department at UF, and they had produced some extra ones that needed homes.

That’s when the thought of “borscht” popped into my head – even though I’ve never made it or eaten it.  I thought I might have some of the key ingredients.  And I did!

After searching for borscht recipes in my own cookbooks and on the web, I realized they were going to need some tinkering if I were going to use only local veggies. So, I tinkered – trying to keep the main idea.  And it was good.  It was also beautiful.

I substituted sweet potatoes for the white potatoes (not in season), the celery (never in season here) and the carrots (rare).  I also substituted local honey for the sugar.  And I had just planted dill, which was a very good addition.  

Here’s the recipe:

NORTH FLORIDA FEBRUARY BORSCHT

2 T vegetable oil*
1 large (or several small) onion(s), chopped
8 medium beets, peeled and diced
Chopped beet greens if they look good

4 medium sweet potatoes, peeled and chopped

½  cabbage, shredded
3 large cloves garlic, smashed, peeled and very finely chopped
1 medium bunch dill, coarsley chopped
4 T honey

½ cup cider vinegar*

2 T salt*

Boiled eggs

Heat oil in a soup pot and sauté onions and garlic till onions are clear.  Add beets, greens, cabbage, and sweet potatoes along with approximately 8 cups of water and salt.  Bring to a boil, lower heat, cover, and cook till veggies are tender but are not falling apart (15-20 minutes).  Add honey and vinegar. Top with dill and sliced or chopped boiled eggs. 

*the oil, vinegar and salt are not produced locally. I could have substituted local butter for the oil (if I had bought local un-homogenized  milk at the market and whipped up the milk fat).  But I don’t think we’re going to be processing vinegar and salt in these parts soon.

Sour cream is traditionally used as a topping for this soup, and I think it would have been a good foil for the soup’s tartness. The boiled eggs did nicely, too, though.  And – to be perfectly honest – I enjoyed this soup more cold the following day.  “Tart” just goes better with cold to me.

Beets are still not my favorite vegetables, but this was really good. The thought of the beets growing out on the Graham’s farm and Harold gifting me with the cabbage – not to mention the jewel-like beauty of the red beets, orange potatoes, and vivid greens  - helped a lot.  I’ll make it again. 

This week's locavore meal: farmers' market borscht with backyard eggs, and a variation of the best salad ever (balsamic vinegar in the dressing, and red and green leaf lettuce instead of cabbage and arugula).

Where the Farmers Go

When it comes to picking up seeds and seedlings, it's good to go where the farmers go.  Alachua County Feed and Seed is the last of its kind in Gainesville, and visiting feels like walking into the past.  Today, James Duncan was behind the counter and helped me get some hay for our chicken coop (bedding).  While I waited, he also helped a customer who wanted to know the best determinate tomato for these parts - "celebrity" according to Mr. Duncan.  He knows because he grows them himself; he's been raising plant in his own greenhouse since he retired and started working at the Feed and Seed almost 20 years ago.  (He wanted me to explain that the lights on his cap are there because he needed them to take care of his plants before sunrise and the workday.)  Here, you won't wind up with lettuce that bolts in our spring heat or other plants that won't thrive here - like you might at one of the big box stores. And you can get chicks here, too. A new bunch is coming in every couple weeks.  

Buying local has other advantages as well. For one thing, we vote with our dollar to keep store like this open (and maybe someday to open more...).  And for another, buying local keeps more of our money in the community - supporting our friends and neighbors.

And the "shopping experience" is so different.  I go to the Feed and Seed to buy something I already have in mind and to get "boots on the ground" advice.  I almost always come away with what I need.  When I go to Lowe's or Home Depot, it's hard to find anyone to ask for one thing.  It's also hard (for me at least) to come away with only what I need.  There's so much STUFF.  And I admit I'm attracted to shiny copper lawn sprinklers and beautiful tomato supports with fancy finials.  Not to mention lawn furniture and lighting and hose rewinders (most made in China) - stuff I didn't know I wanted and certainly don't need.  There's a reason for this.  And I'd prefer my dollar not to go toward supporting it.

Plus Mr. Duncan is so nice. 

 

Locavore-ish Lentil Soup

We've been using this recipe for years, for several reasons.  It's quick, it's healthy, and just about everyone likes it (including kids) - despite its unglamorous appearance. 

White potatoes are not in season yet, so we substituted sweet potatoes, which are, for both the carrots and white potatoes.  I think this is a big difference in how most of us cook now, as opposed to how our grandparents or great-grandparents cooked back when people relied primarily on things produced locally:  Now, folks who like to cook usually start out with a recipe and go get whatever ingredients are called for. But less than a century ago, diets were much less diverse. Good cooks then would use mostly what was growing, hunted or raised nearby, and create (or tweak) a recipe themselves.  My own grandparents were much more representative of this type of cooking - and thinking. Their meal plans were pretty consistent and consistently southern, what many of us now think of as "soul food."   They made the best (really, the best) of what was close at hand.   

Back to the soup: We doubled the recipe, and used green onions from the farmers' market supplemented with an organic sweet onion grown in Georgia (sold at Ward's).  Unfortunately, the closest location it seems lentils are grown (they need cool weather) is the upper midwest and Pacific northwest. So they have traveled quite a distance.  The tomatoes were grown within a couple miles though.  So, again, this meal was "locavore-ish."  We're working on it.

LENTIL SOUP            

2 cups dried lentils         

2-3 chopped carrots

4 chopped potatoes

Salt to taste

Rinse the lentils and pour into large pot. Add carrots, potatoes and salt, and cover with water – at least two inches over top of lentils.  Bring to a boil, then cover, turn to low and cook for 30-40 minutes. Turn off heat and let steam until sauce is ready.

Sauce:

1 large onion

¼ cup olive oil

½ tsp each ginger, turmeric, and black pepper (or just curry powder and black pepper)

Sauté onion in olive oil and add spices.  Mix well and cook until onions are clear.  Add salt to taste.  Combine with lentils. Place raw chopped tomatoes on top.  Best if allowed to sit an hour before serving. Serves 6.

February Gardening

Ahhh... cilantro.

This might be my favorite month for gardening.  The weather is nice and cool, there's regular rain, and we're on the cusp of two seasons so a lot of diversity is possible.  And it's just a pleasure to be out there.

This weekend we bravely planted two little tomato plants in the hopes that hard freezes are behind us. We also planted some more lettuce and replenished our chicken-tattered strawberry plants and frost-bitten broccoli.  In real-world food production where we relied on these plants as our primary source of food for our family, it would probably be more productive to remove the damaged plants and replace with the new.  But it will be interesting to see how the old ones will recover in comparison to the new ones reaching maturity.  So we'll enjoy the luxury of using the garden for education as well as food.

And for happiness.  It is truly fun to be out on the garden on a beautiful day.  Robins and sandhill cranes are in the neighborhood for a while and people are out strolling, cycling, and jogging.  It's so pleasant.  And little Riley's two year-old tendency not to distinguish work from play is contagious.  Here's a Riley "tutorial" on the use of worm castings in the garden. 

   

1. Dig a hole.  2. Take a tablespoon or two of castings from the bucket.  3. Pause to appreciate how much easier this is than shoveling horse manure.  4. Place castings in hole before adding plant.

I started using worm castings in the school gardens I managed for several years.  The school children even raised their own worms, feeding them apple cores and other healthy snack leavings as well as school garden debris.  We got ours from the worm man, but I think we'll ressurect the worm composter once the puppy settles down.

In addition to placing the castings in the holes before planting, we also sprinkle it around the top mid-season and water it in.  That and a seasonal distribution of finished kitchen compost seems to be all our garden needs to thrive.  This year we are adding soiled hay from the little hen house, and I'm interested to see if that will make it even more productive. 

February garden plant inventory:  Collards (planted in the fall and still thriving), cilantro, sorrel, lettuce, strawberries, tomatoes.  What's in your garden this time of year?

 

Very Local Eggs

So far, the once-per-day locavore meal has consisted mainly of two scrambled eggs (with garden chives) and an orange and several replays of the best salad I've ever tasted.  It's been pretty easy, but our suburban, code-enforced two chickens (per household) wouldn't supply us with enough eggs to scramble regularly. Even cheating - we have three chickens: a Rhode Island Red and two bantam (miniature) Wyandottes - production wouldn't keep up with our family's need.

Our local grocer, Ward's, occasionally stocks local eggs, but it's dicey. Larger egg producers invariably blow the whistle on this "illegal" practice, and the eggs disappear from the shelves for a time.  It's illegal for most of these producers to sell their eggs because small chicken operations generally fall short of USDA regulations for doing so, particularly rules regarding expensive egg-cleaning equipment that is not financially feasible for small producers.      

But we wild-eyed radical wannabes not only harbor an illegal extra chicken but have in the past secretly met an elderly local farmer in the parking lot of Ward's to buy large quantities of eggs for the Breakfast Brigade. He passed away, but our friend, Alicia, helped connect us to the "Chicken Lady" who now delivers local eggs to the CW House each week on her way into town for work. Same good arrangement - she takes good care of her chickens, we pay her a fair price, we serve good, healthy, fresh eggs to folks in need of something good. 

If Gainesville were to go locavore - by choice or necessity, I imagine there would be a lot more farmers bringing eggs to market, and a lot more chickens in our backyards. Big Chicken would just have to deal.   

   

LOCAVORE-ish

The New Oxford American Dictionary chose locavore, “a person who seeks out locally produced food”, as its Word of the Year for 2007.  It seems to be an idea whose time has come as folks from all different backgrounds are embracing the idea of it – from Schumacher economists to trendy chefs.  It’s a “movement,” and a good thing it is.  Because the best I think most of us can do at the moment is move toward it. 

I usually like to go whole hog on life-changes once I make the decision. When I decided to become a vegetarian, I just quit eating meat and started thinking more about protein and vitamin B12 (and soon discovered I had little to worry about).  But becoming a locavore is going to be a little more challenging.  For one thing, the question of protein will rear its head again and I have a feeling some of the answers might include local fauna – of which we are short on hereabouts, and which my bleeding-heart vegetarian self cannot envision killing, trapping, plucking, skinning or… eating at this point.  I'll try to stay open-minded though.

Another reason to do this gradually is that, while we occasionally enjoy a meal made entirely from local ingredients (love it actually), it would take a kitchen and family revolution to do this every meal, every day.  Besides the meat issue, there is the grain and legume issue.  No wheat, rye, oats…  Cornmeal maybe, but where does one find local ground corn?   Or lentils, kidneys, pintos and black beans?  Black-eyed peas and field peas, perhaps - in the summer… and then should we learn to can them or freeze them for the rest of the year?  And coffee.  Oh no.

So, while technically we meet the definition of "person[s] who seek," I think we'll consider ourselves locavores-in-training for now. We’ll use the following guidelines to start with:

·         Eat one completely local meal each day.

·         Commit to one entirely local-food day each week.

·         Supplement other meals with food purchased at a local store, organic whenever possible.

We’ll keep you updated on our fumbling, but hopefully tasty, attempts at seeking out and making the  most of locally produced food.

We Love Ward's

Ward’s is the last locally-owned grocery store in Gainesville and has been owned by three generations of the Ward family. Walking through the aisles reminds me of grocery shopping with my grandmother at the M&M in Lake City - seasonal produce bought from local farms as well as baked goods from area bakeries, honey from local beekeepers, and local milk, eggs and even sausage. They also stock bulk organic grains and legumes, plus just about everything else a grocery store could offer, although not the plethora of brands.  My 22-year old son tells me they have a pretty amazing selection of beer there as well. 

Unlike chain grocery stores – like Publix – who have contracts with distant clearinghouses from whom they buy their stock, Ward's is free to buy from local folks.  It’s not unusual during the summer months to see a truck full of watermelons backed up to the produce door and a “watermelon brigade” of produce department workers “chucking” the melons into the cooler.  Wards is also a good place to buy bulk items like grains, legumes, nuts, etc.  And for omnivores, I understand they have a real butcher who will cut meat to your specification.

We have been buying Breakfast Brigade supplies there for a while.  It’s between where we live and the Catholic Worker House so it’s “on the way” although there seems to be a Publix in every sector of our town now, two within a mile of our house. And I admit we often shop at them for last-minute things.  Which makes me think that one of the things we need to change in our lives is to think ahead a little more and keep a list of staples we need to stock up on at Ward’s. 

Ward’s is located on the corner of NW 6^th Street and NW 23^rd Avenue. 

Inspiration: Wendell Berry

Geese appear high over us,

pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,

as in love or sleep, holds

them to their way, clear

in the ancient faith: what we need

is here. And we pray, not

for new earth or heaven, but to be

quiet in heart, and in eye,

clear. What we need is here.

Wendell Berry is a poet, essayist, novelist, and farmer.  Some people think he’s a prophet, and I'm one of them. For years, he’s been saying what folks are now beginning to listen to – that we need to look squarely at the damage our ways are causing the earth and ourselves, that radical change is called for, and that we have to start with ourselves and our own communities.  Here’s an excerpt from an article originally published in Orion magazine: 

The danger now is that those who are concerned will believe that the solution to the "environmental crisis" can be merely political — that the problems, being large, can be solved by large solutions generated by a few people to whom we will give our proxies to police the economic proxies that we have already given. The danger, in other words, is that people will think they have made a sufficient change if they have altered their "values", or had a "change of heart", and that such a change in passive consumers will cause appropriate changes in the public experts, politicians, and corporate executives to whom they have granted their proxies.

The trouble with this is that a proper concern for nature and our use of nature must be practised, not by our proxy-holders, but by ourselves. A change of heart or of values without a practice is only another pointless luxury of a passively consumptive way of life. The "environmental crisis", in fact, can be solved only if people, individually and in their communities, recover responsibility for their thoughtlessly given proxies. If people begin the effort to take back into their own power a significant portion of their economic responsibility, then their inevitable first discovery is that the "environmental crisis" is no such thing; it is not a crisis of our environs or surroundings; it is a crisis of our lives as individuals, as family members, as community members, and as citizens. We have an "environmental crisis" because we have consented to an economy in which by eating, drinking, working, resting, travelling and enjoying ourselves we are destroying the natural, the god-given world.

You can read more from Mr. Berry here, here and here.

About Our Family

We are a “blended” family of two parents and six children – three still living at home.  Like most families, we feel very busy. John works full-time for Pax Christi, a Catholic human rights organization.  I (Kelli) have been occupied for the last two-plus years as a caregiver for Ben (19), who has just finished up a long, long course of chemotherapy for leukemia. Prior to that (almost three years ago), I worked for Florida Organic Growers' food secuity program.  In 2000, John and I were among a small group of folks who founded the Gainesville Catholic Worker and we are very involved with its doings. Our other two children living at home, Johnny (12) and Grace (10), are in middle and elementary school respectively, perched right at the brink of teenagerdom. The three living away - Megan (27, Ocala), Anna (25, NYC), and Joe (22,  college in Tennessee), seem to appreciate Gainesville life even more the further away they are. It's been good for us to see "home" through their eyes.

For years, we have been inspired by the idea of “being local.”  Partly because we just love this place.  Our roots run deep here and we want to honor and protect it.  But also because we can’t imagine going on like this - as a family, as a community, as a country, or as a planet.  We want to slow down, work and play together more as a family, and free ourselves to reach out  more to our neighbors - especially those in need.  We'd like to enjoy and appreciate more North Central Florida's natural beauty as well as the beauty of the various human and cultural aspects of this particular place. We hope to see more of our resources go toward supporting the people we know and who care about this place as much as we do.  And we want to become more aware of the people and places other than our own that our actions affect. We want that impact to be a more benign one. And with global warming and peak oil looming, we are feeling a little urgent about changing our ways  - for our sake, for our neighbors near and far, and for the good of the planet in general.

We’re thinking this is going to be a pretty big challenge for us. Over the years, we’ve given more thought than effort to being local – enjoying the ambience and delicious food at the farmers market or the local grocery but supplementing heavily with just about whatever we wanted whenever we wanted it… from wherever we had to go to get it.  We want to do better.  And we want to examine other aspects of our lives besides food - what we wear, how we entertain ourselves, how we get to where we're going (gasoline isn't a local product...) and whatever else comes to mind. One thing we know for sure: we have a lot to learn.

We hope you'll help us by sharing your own experiences, insights, thoughts and questions about being local.  It's good to have company.