Loco for Locavore!

A few years ago, I read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver with Steven L. Hopp (her husband) and Camille Kingsolver (her older daughter). For anyone who is not familiar with the book, Kingsolver describes on the book’s website: ”Animal, Vegetable, Miracle (Harper Collins, 2007) is the story of a year in which our family deliberately fed ourselves on products grown close to home, and what we learned from the experience.” I was inspired by the book. Earlier that year, I’d read Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma, and I was already going a little bit nuts about the whole Locavore thing. I’d had a Community-Sponsored Agriculture (CSA) share for several summers in a row, and that particular summer (2007), a friend and I were growing a fairly decent sized garden of our own on her property.

A beautiful, exhausting labor of love

After I read Kingsolver and co.’s book, my locavore fanaticism hit a new high. I poured over every freaking label in the grocery store searching for the most local box of cereal/can of beans/carton of milk possible. When I’d come home with one over-priced sack of groceries. My partner at the time would stare at me in amazement and horror when I’d arrive home over an hour later with just one bag of groceries, particularly after he saw the receipt. His expression seemed to be asking, “How is it possible you spent all that time in the grocery store and bought almost nothing to eat for so much money?” I’d ignore his bewildered gaze and calmly unload my local cheeses and apples and hazelnuts.

Organic Broccoli--$4 a pound.  Yikes!

Eating local is a beautiful thing. The fresh produce looks beautiful and it tastes amazing. You feel good because local food tends not to be processed food, so you probably eating healthier. You feel good about pumping money back into your local economy. You feel good knowing that your food didn’t require gallons upon gallons of petrol to get it to your point of purchase.  You feel especially good when you bite into a carrot or green bean that you grew from seed. Your labor was the impetus for that seed to sprout and blossom and fruit into the vegetable that now nourishes your body; it's an incredibly rewarding experience.

I grew you to eat, Mr. Carrot.

Anyway, I rode the locavore thing pretty hard until early 2009 when my relationships with both my partner and my garden friend kind of imploded, and things kind of spun out of control for awhile.  Trust me, when your entire life has been turned upside down, the last thing you need to be obsessing over is where the oats in your granola came from.  I still cared about my food's origins and supporting local farmers and gardening, but I needed to put my time, energy, and attention into tending to the metaphorical garden within (I know, *groan*). When things settled down, I'd work the locavore way back into my life.  So when I was dreaming up Operation Consumption Liberation last December, I jumped at the opportunity to throw a month of consuming only local foods on the agenda.

Fact: eating local is not cheap, nor is it not easy. Going 100% locavore is possible, but you better be prepared to shell out some serious moolah and to get really creative in the kitchen with whatever edibles inhabit your neck of the woods. I’m reminded of  this classic scene from Forrest Gump:

Seriously, how many ways are there to eat a Washington apple?  I don't really want to find out.  That's why I chose September to be my local food month. Two months ago, the farmers markets in Seattle were nothing but a sea of greens, with a sprinkling of over-wintered root vegetables and strawberries. But in September, the tomatoes finally turn red.  There are still blueberries and peaches and cherries aplenty, and the apples, pears, and blackberries are just starting to roll in. Just look at this calendar of available produce and goods at Seattle-area farmers markets: September is a glorious time to eat local here.  (Also, the increased bounty sometimes signifies decreased spending: bargains on flats and cosmetically imperfect veggies, here I come!)

Farmers Market Bounty!

Everyone has a different definition of local.  I decided to define local as a 300-mile distance because the Washington-Idaho border is just a touch under a 300-mile drive from Seattle, a distance most cars can cover on one tank of gas. In fact, 300 driving miles will get me everywhere in Washington except the Colville National Forest, which is a beautiful place, but I don't eat evergreen trees.  A 300-mile radius gets me south of Eugene, OR on I-5S and all the way up the Salish Sea to the Discovery Islands if I follow Vancouver Island's eastern coastline to the north.  Here's what you really need to know: 300 miles nets me wheat, lentils, Dungeness crab, and pinot from the Willamette Valley.

To save further petrol, I'm biking my market finds home!  I'm totally a saint!

Even with all that September bounty, it is still really hard to eat 100% locavore.  Even Barbara Kingsolver acknowledged that there had to be a few exceptions, like olive oil and spices.  So let me say this here and now: My September goal is to consume less from outside my 300-mile circle, not to consume nothing from areas beyond that span.  As a guideline, I'm going to use the Locavore Pledge:

   

If not LOCALLY PRODUCED, then Organic.
If not ORGANIC, then Family Farm.
If not FAMILY FARM, then Local Business.
If not a LOCAL BUSINESS, then Fair Trade.

  

To elaborate a little further on my goal: 90 percent of the total food mass (versus the total ingredients) I consume daily will come from inside my 300-mile perimeter, or fit within the Locavore Pledge. 

And like Kingsolver, I have a list of exceptions, things that are just hard to find locally, maybe even impossible: olive oil & vinegar; lemons & limes; sugar (I'll try to get by with local honey, but if I make jam, I'll need the white stuff); baking powder & baking soda; coffee (will use locally roasted beans); chocolate (but locally produced); yeast, rennet, citric acid, pectin--preserving and cheese making stuff; and anything that is already in my fridge or pantry--waste not!  (Besides, they're pretty barren anyway.)

Additional resolutions and fine print: I will make an effort to pick the items grown and produced closest to me within my 300 miles, but if the hazelnuts from Oregon are cheaper than the hazelnuts from Washington, I'm going with my pocketbook. And should it become too expensive, I reserve the right to change my local food percentage goal at any time.  I reserve the right enjoy food at friends' homes that comes from wherever, and to also enjoy four meals out without Locavore worry this month.  But I also resolve to try to eat at restaurants that try to use local ingredients.   As always, I'll be writing about adventures, difficulties, and lessons learned during the month.

Local dinner #1: locally grown corn, tomatoes, lettuce, & basil, & locally-raised chicken (w/leftover mozzarella from August)

I usually set a parallel goal to increase something in my life to compensate for what I'm taking away.  I don't see the need to do that this month.  I'm taking away food that isn't as fresh and tasty and replacing it with food that tastes AMAZING and as if it were picked seconds ago.  In the words of Julia Child, and so many French people before her, "Bon Appetit!"