Putting meaning back in food

Remember the old days? Where families worked the land, putting their sweat, blood and tears into the soil, lovingly watering and pruning and turning soil? Remember that they would handpick the fruits and veggies and sold them to others, who then made good, wholesome meals to nourish their family?

Don't remember? That's okay; I don't really either. Like most of this generation, I grew up on processed food. Even when I managed to see "fresh" food, it was generally grown on a giant corporate farm across the country (or in another country) and wasn't touched by human hands until it reached the grocery store. It is usually picked before it's actually ripe and then it ripens as it journeys miles and miles and miles to land on my table.

Knowing that we've lost a fundamental connection to food is hard to accept and fixing, but reading about someone else's battle to promote local eating and struggling to overcome the rules in place that favor giant conglomeration instead of tiny farms is encouraging.

That's why I want to bring your attention to the wonderful blog called Diary of a Young Farmer. I was instantly engrossed in the entries found on Edible Portland, a magazine and Web site based in Portland, Oregon (of course).

Their mission is simple: "Encouraging people to eat more locally grown and locally produced foods. By eating locally, we help sustain the small family farms that grow these foods, we enjoy food that is fresher and healthier for us, and we help reduce the cost on the environment — and in dollars — of transporting foods over long distances."

The Diary of a Young Farmer follows Zoë Bradbury, who grew up on a farm in Oregon but didn't return until she had dipped her toes in 9-5 living. Now she's back, leasing land next to her mom and sister, and starting from scratch a local farm to supply locavore restaurants. What sticks out about her struggle is the emotional connections she has. Her first post is on artichokes. There are memories embedded in artichokes for Zoë, memories of spring and growing up. Her mother gave her artichokes when she moved away (those artichokes were given to her by a friend). Her artichokes have history, Zoë writes. They're of "the same genetic stock that had fed me for 25 years." As she says, "After our five-year stint up north together, me and the chokes have finally come full circle back to home turf. We’re planning on staying awhile."

We can't all go live on a farm, but we can cheer on someone else's struggle. We can find a local farm to connect with, to support and to nourish ourselves with that produce. Search for farm co-ops in your area and you'll be surprised how many pop up. You can grow a plant in your back yard, engaging in the ancient struggle that made food mean more to a person, to have value beyond filling our bellies. Food nourishes us, body, mind and soul. We can't forget that.

Welcome our new Contributors

For a little variety and more consistent hunger inducing posts, we are adding new contributors. They each have something special to contribute and most of them know their DC area food very well.

Please welcome them and keep your eye out for their posts.

It's twitter time!

Ever since I started working two jobs, I have largely ignored this blog, despite the fact that I am ignoring one of my first loves- food conversation!

To keep the conversation going, I naturally started twittering about food. I decided today to use my twitter for food and food alone. I've been recently twittering my work meals- which, as mundane as it sounds- gets conversation going!

You can follow me at Janelloespo. I'll include the link after I get off from work. :)

'Real Food'

5 second rule is one of those blogs that I heartily enjoy reading. Not only does the author, Cheryl Sternman, include delicious foods, but she also offers explanations of unique foods you might not have had the courage to try, beautiful photography and narrative anecdotes about her experiences. One such post begged to be shared and reposted.
Speaking on food activism that goes beyond the "hippie" or "organic" experience to the everyday (and often ignored) battle to bring fresh fruit and vegetables to kids, the author shares her experience at a "Farm to Cafeteria conference."
She sets the scene beautifully and drives home to readers how dire the situation is with her descriptions of attendees:

"Here's a portrait of the people I met: middle school students from New Orleans who convinced their superintendent to change his foodservice contract so they could have fresh, locally grown produce at least twice a month. (They succeeded.) High school students from Vermont who worked to get root vegetable 'seconds' from local farms onto the lunch menus at their schools. (They succeeded.) And a group of committed college and university students across the country who have formed a vast network to bring 'real' food to their cafeterias. (They are currently succeeding, with much more work ahead of them.)"

It personally blows my mind to think about not having eaten fresh fruit or vegetables. I lived off those things as I grew up. We were lucky enough to have a huge garden in the backyard or (when i was living in the city), to be within walking distance of a farmer's market or even (when i as living in Illinois) to live next to independent farmers who were free with giving their food to local kids willing to help them with the crops.
Sternman ends her post with a provocative question that I felt was worth thinking about:

"What, to you, is real food? Not healthy food, not nutritious food, because the conversation has moved past these terms, but real food? How inclusive is the definition? And what does it leave out? Try, if you can, to think past Michael Pollan's 'food your grandparents ate' and probe a little deeper."

My idea of 'real' food is something with an emotional connection. It was actually a trip to Morocco that taught me this. While you can go out and buy organic or healthy food now, for me, its not real until you have an emotional connection with the person who planted that crop or tended to it or picked it or showed that they took special care to prepare it. Moroccan water has bacteria in it (just like most tap water does) and so when we stayed there, the cooks would clean the fresh fruit and vegetables special for us. They had to boil water to kill the bacteria and then let that cool so they wouldn't accidentally cook the produce. There was such care that even though I buy cherries, for example, back in the states, they just aren't the same. I've lost the emotional connection.
There's almost a spirituality with 'real' food. And when I eat what I think of, I'm reminded of the person that that food connects me too: the farmer, the picker, the cook. It doesn't matter, there's something more real about it when there is that connection, that memory to have.
What's you're answer?

Looking for a 'secretary of food'

In all of the appointments to cabinet that the president-elect has been making lately, his pick for secretary of agriculture has been put off. In fact, the discussion about the post has been sort of lost in the shuffle of economic crisis that as taken over the country in recent months. A New York Times columnist has returned to the discussion, outlining an argument for the renaming of the post as "Secretary of Food." His point is that agriculture is no longer what it was when the governmental department was created. Since then, "fewer than 2 percent (of Americans) are farmers. In contrast, 100 percent of Americans eat." Citing the affect of agribusiness on the environment and the economy, Nicholas D. Kristof argues that something must be done and that the perfect message of "change" that Obama can send is to refocus on that sector of our country. As Kristof says Michael Pollan (author of the "Ominivore's Dilemma") told him: " 'Even if you don’t think agriculture is a high priority, given all the other problems we face, we’re not going to make progress on the issues Obama campaigned on — health care, climate change and energy independence — unless we reform agriculture.' "

Read the complete article on the NY Times Web site. It even links you to a handy little petition to Obama asking him to focus on reforming the decripit state of agribusiness in the U.S., if you agree with that statement, anyway.

Giving Thanks for our Food

Well, Thanksgiving has passed and most of us were subdued into turkey comas. Eating season has begun. It starts on Thanksgiving and ends on January 1, when we make our fanciful resolutions to go on diets and work out.

I cannot begin to TELL you how much I ate since Thursday. In a matter of days, it seems like my face has filled out again. It all started with the fried, breadcrumby artichoke. I consumed two very oily, delicious artichokes on Thanksgiving, along with a turkey sandwich, sweet potato pie, broccoli casserole, mashed garlic potatoes and my very special mulled apple cider.

You would think I would ease off since then, but everytime I go anywhere, people suddenly have their holiday pastries baked. I have been a culprit of such hospitality as well. Saturday was a very decadent day. My friend Laura came over and we baked oatmeal chocolate chip cookies which I would lie if I told you I made them from scratch. Baking's not my gift and betty crocker can just do it so well sometimes. I did make a small experiment batch where I put ingredients to my mom's sweet potato pie topping into the mix. This consisted of coconut, corn flakes, and pecans. It wasn't too bad. I also topped some of the cookies off with caramel. We ate the cookies and got lattes from Claytime Cafe where we painted ourselves mugs. The funny part is I have a brother who has no sweet tooth so I didn't think he would indulge in the cookies. But he had a late night craving and finished the whole plate of them! It made me very proud.

This past Sunday was the first Sunday of Advent when the candle of Hope got lit. This past Sunday, I went overboard. My friend Sarah invited me to an Advent dinner and I accepted. Priot to that, I got home from lunch to discover my Dad cooking his traditional, Sunday meal- meatballs and pasta with homemade sauce. I cannot begin to tell you, my Dad might make the best sauce you've ever had. Then at the Advent dinner, I could not pass chicken and dumplings over rice. I had two dinners and was completely exhausted the next day.

But the point of this is not to inform you that I eat too much. Most of us eat too much at this time of year. Sometimes it feels very good to indulge and not feel any guilt. However, we also need to aquire the spirit of gratitude. I am so blessed to be able to enjoy food so much, but why can I not use my blessing to bless others?

So at this time of year, where the spirits are high and sweets are everywhere, remember this:

enjoy. be thankful for everything. but don't hoard, share. you are blessed to be a blessing.

donate food to food pantries. volunteer at a food pantry. work at a soup kitchen. buy a homeless person a meal. provide groceries to a friend in need.

we can all do something to express our gratitude.

The return of ugly food

In this time of food crisis it hardly seem likely that anyone would choose to ban food based on what it looked like. I know I've gotten some of my yummiest tomatoes from a garden and they rarely look pretty. And yet, for years the European Union would not allow so-called 'ugly' fruits or vegetables to be sold in the nations included in that group. They did this, obstensibly, to keep prices uniform. Which is silly. And they finally realized this, after years of ridicule from the world. And so, countries within the EU can now celebrate in their new found 'ugly fruit.'