Edens Lost & Found: Philadelphia

You should check out the Philadelphia the Holy Experiment episode. It has a fabulous section on Greensgrow Farms and the White Dog Cafe. Lots more info at the Edens Lost & Found site. It reruns late at night on Friday and during the day on Saturday this weekend.

An Inventory

This year we have planted the following in our garden: six beefsteak tomatoes, eight Amish paste tomatoes, one sungold, two cherry 100, six bell peppers, two banana peppers, two jalapeñ peppers, one habañero pepper, lettuce, bunching onions, radishes, six basil plants, two cilantro plants, two dill plants, one rosemary, one thyme, one lemon thyme, one sweet woodruff, chives, chard, three zucchinis, three yellow squash, one eggplant, three red cabbage, six green beans, six scarlet runner beans, two canteloup, two watermelon, and two pumpkins. And in the back of the house, not planted by us, is a huge thicket of blueberries and blackberries.

I consider this is fairly impressive by current suburban standards of vegetable gardening. Sure, there are things I would have loved to have planted - like okra and ground cherries - but never got to, giving me something to look forward to in coming years. By and large, though, I'm pleased with the state of the garden so far.

Despite what is, to me, a fairly ambitious planting, the truth is that even if every single one of these plants, seeds and starts survives and performs beautifully, my garden will not produce enough to feed my family exclusively from its beds. And already the chard isn't doing so well, so that ship seems to have sailed. Sure, no doubt we'll enjoy its offerings at any number of meals and most likely will give zucchini away until our neighbors no longer acknowledge us walking up their drives. And with luck I'll be able to can some tomatoes, too, perhaps this year even enough to take us through much of the winter. But really, truly feed us? No.

It's obvious that even the most ambitious home gardener needs farms and farmers. And unless we make it clear to our food vendors that we want and expect to have the option of purchasing locally grown and processed foods - or buying directly from local producers - their numbers will only decrease in the face of incredible social, economic and political pressures. So although this weekend I will pick lettuce and radishes and just a little chard, I'll still head out to the farmer's market for perhaps even more of the same. There's too much at stake not to, both for my family and my community.

Mother's Day Brunch

I must be the only mother in America who not only volunteers to cook her own Mother's Day Brunch, but revels in the opportunity. After a few years of going out to restaurants with my mother and grandmother, dealing with my very un-restaurant-friendly toddlers and various relatives complaining about the cost of the restaurants I'd choose (sorry, you leave the choice up to me, we ain't eating at Perkin's...) I said, heck with this, I'm doing it my way. I put on my micro-manager hat and laid out a gorgeous brunch on our porch last year.

This year I did it again, and I used it as a proving ground for my new localvore efforts. Although I've been trying to eat more locally for a couple of years now, I've only gotten serious about it in the very recent past. I was far from perfect, for instance, I was all out of tomato sauce from last summer because I wasn't thinking in terms of freezing or canning an entire year's worth at that point in time. Nevertheless, I think I did a pretty good job. Just thinking the meal through in terms of "local" was a cool exercise.

Here's the low-down:

Soup: Cream of (was supposed to be sorrel, but there was none to be had so I used a spicy mesclun mix). The mesclun mix was from my own garden. The cream and eggs were from Leroy Miller's farm in Bird-in-Hand. I was out of my own chicken stock, so I tried to buy some from Mountain View Poultry at the Phoenixville Farmer's Market on Saturday morning. Alas, they were all out - poor planning on my part, I should have called ahead and ordered it. I wound up using Imagine brand organic. Shallots were of unknown origen, bought at Kimberton Whole Foods. If I'd planned better for the stock, this would have been entirely local but for the shallots.

Salad: Baby greens from my garden. Strawberries from Willow Creek Orchard in Collegeville. Chicken from Mountain View Poultry, poached with lemons (obviously not local in PA) and dill (from Willow Creek). Nuts (not local). Homemade orange viniagrette (not local, except for some herbs).

Main course: Summer vegetable egg bake. Eggs were from Leroy Miller. Bison sausage from Backyard Bison in Coopersburg. Asparagus from my own garden and from Willow Creek. Basil from Lavender Hill in Hockessin, DE. Tomato sauce was organic canned. Onions, garlic, red peppers were all from unknown sources, bought at Kimberton Whole Foods.

Dessert: Strawberry rhubarb clafoutis. Strawberries were from Willow Creek. Rhubarb was bought at Kimberton Whole Foods, don't know if it was local. Cream and eggs from Leroy Miller. I would have used locally milled flour, but I had to make it gluten free which made things a little more difficult - I used Arrowhead Mills All-Purpose Baking Mix.

Scones: I bought regular ones from Great Harvest Bread Company at the Phoenixville Farmer's Market, and made my own gluten free ones (local butter and honey, but otherwise not local ingredients). Jam was from Tait Farms in Center Hall, PA. Butter was from Leroy Miller.



My analysis: I wish I'd thought to call ahead for the chicken stock. That failure shames me... This year, I hope to put up enough tomato sauce to get me through the entire year. The scones were an impulse purchase - I had been thinking of making some, but nixed the idea when I realized I wouldn't have time. When I saw them at the market, they looked so lovely; I figured, they were locally made at least, even if all the ingredients weren't locally sourced.

Here are two great frustrations.

First, although I can find locally grown wheat, barley, rye and oats, most gluten free grains and other starch crops just aren't grown in Pennsylvania. Rice, quinoa, amaranth, tapioca, arrowroot. Corn and potatoes are grown here, but what are my chances of finding corn or potato starch that happens to be sourced from locally grown corn or potatoes? And, god knows where (geographically) xanthan gum comes from, but I don't think I can plant those little microbes in my garden. So, unless I want to go completely grain-free, I've got a problem. I take a little comfort in the fact that I eat far less grain than most people do.

Second, how do I dress my salads? Eating dry lettuce... well, I can't do it. I've tried. I could try making my own vinegar - does anyone know if a vinegar mother is the same from one variety of vinegar to another? Can I capture one from a bottle of unfiltered apple cider vinegar and throw it into some wine, or is there something more complicated to it? Then, what do I do about oil? Where do I get locally produced oils, particularly oils that are NT friendly? (i.e. good = olive oil, coconut oil, flax seed oil, sesame oil, nut oils. Bad = canola, corn oil, safflower oil, sunflower seed oil.) Clearly, most of the "good" oils just don't come from Pennsylvania. Am I worrying this too much, when you consider what a small percentage of my diet this is? I guess it just bugs me because it's a place where I cannot come up with another option. I mean, I haven't given up bananas. But, if they became unavailable, I could readily make due with strawberries and peaches and apples and other things that are local. But, what would I do if olive oil disappeared from the store shelves?

(Not just) Another Roadside Attraction

Can I tell you about one of my favorite neighborhood spots? It's certainly not worth a special trip but if you're in the area it can be a nice oasis on your journey. I get just a wee bit giddy as I approach it each day on my commute, eager to spot any new offerings. This time of year it's a sparse but welcome harbinger of summer's pleasures to come.

This morning in the wan light of an overcast dawn I make out a few healthy seedlings towering over their small pots. The sign says "Tomatoes & Herbs". The tomato plants are easily identified at 25 mph but I'll have to slow down or pull over tonight to identify the herbal offerings.

I've seen everything from seedlings such as these to orchid corsages on Mother's Day. In the summer it's heirloom tomatoes - ugly black krims or fat brandywines and all manner of fresh vegetables. In the fall you'll find squashes both decorative and delicious. Just a small roadside stand. A pricelist is taped to the table. A locked mailbox hangs from a post for you to drop your payment. Strictly honor system.

Last year I had every intention of dropping in a thank you note to the farmer but I never did. This year I think I'm going to write a brief note thanking them for their offerings. It was so nice to be able to stop and pick up an onion or some herbs or some veggies when we occaisionaly ran out from our weekly CSA share. My hope is that my note might also spark a dialog. Of course I'm interested in the mundane specifics of their farming practices and philosophies. However, as we become more entrenched in our neighborhood my hope is that we might actually get to know our neighbors. Imagine that?!

If you're in the area you might want to check it out. It's the self-serve produce stand on Pughtown Road. Just past Camphill Village as you head West toward my house. Right before the road turns toward the dog leg that crosses French Creek. Their season starts in early spring with a handwritten sign sticking out of a bale proclaiming "HAY 4 SAIL" and ends sometime as late as November with all manner of gourds.

Feeling the Chester County love. Ahhhh. There it is. Y

Local to Organic And All Stops Inbetween

Thanks, snoodess, for the wonderful linkage! We're on our way now!

I've been thinking a lot lately about eating locally and eating organically and whether or not one is more desireable than the other, and whether overlap between them is a given. And then there's the related issue of Big Food vs. Small Food. For now, my personal eating hierarchy looks like this:

local organic small

local conventional small

local organic big

local conventional big

non-local organic small

non-loal conventional small

non-local organic big

non-local conventional big

One reason that I put the greatest value on small providers is the hope that faced with a loyal, interested clientele they might be open to the idea of engaging in more or enhanced sustainability practices. After all, if the community providing one's livelihood clamors for raw or organic or whatnot, it seems to me that one is more likely to listen given that every dollar earned has a face or name attached to it.

Similarly, I value local over organic for pretty much the same reason, with the added issue of fossil fuel conservation. I'd rather eat a conventional item procured from a local small business than its organic sibling trucked in from California by the subsidiary of the same mega-corporations that routinely lobby our elected officials for favors and breaks that erode the meaning of organic in the first place.

But this is just me. I know that there are as many ways to parse these very complicated issues as there are families which contemplate them. And my thoughts are always evolving. I'm dedicated to procuring as much of my family's food as I can from local sources, if they're organic then so much the better.