by Tana Butler
(Pictured at left: my table last August, a partial display of the week's acquisition from various farmers markets.)
I tell people I live in Eden. As in, "The Garden of Eden," where "garden" in fact means "more organic/sustainable farms than any county in California," and probably the entire country. With roughly a third the acreage and population of Fresno, Santa Cruz County has 30% more organic farms.
It has become my life's work to visit, photograph, and write about these places—not just here, but wherever I travel in the world. Travel itself has taken on a new meaning: I'm not interested in going somewhere unless I can squeeze in a visit to a farm or a farmers market.
Last year, I visited New York City, but only briefly. It was more enjoyable to me to stay in northern New Jersey, and drive through the beautiful countryside there, en route to Bobolink Dairy and other agricultural sites.
Last August, taking up the Eat Local Challenge was a natural thing for me to do. The biggest impediments I found were financial: we try to buy only organic proteins when possible, and they are more expensive than the crap you find at Safeway. Luckily, we have TLC Ranch nearby: Jim and Becky raised some amazing chickens, both for the eggs and for roasting. I found that one three- to four-pound bird provided dinner for the three of us—we live with our grandson, Logan, who is two now—as well as going into making a pot of chicken soup in a newly-inspired Mexican direction.
The inspiration is Rancho Gordo: Steve Sando is a grower of beans and New World foods, and his influence on me has been profound. He not only provides recipes and ideas for dishes, but in a larger sense, has sent some of the Slow Food love and wisdom he has acquired over the years my way. My fallback cuisine has always been Italian, but Steve's gotten me comfortable with Mexican ingredients and spices. He's also gotten me to realize how easy it is to make honest meals out of simple ingredients: I came to the realization that food from a box is not really what I consider food. (Which doesn't mean I don't buy packaged foods, just that I buy much, much less.)
So...Slow Food, organic/sustainable food, and local food. August was pretty easy, all things considered. I came out of it with a secondary realization: I'd rather have a small piece of exquisite cheese than a five-pound block of factory cheese. Less really can be more, sometimes. Savoring a nibble of Harley Farms chevre, for example, feels so much better than gobbling down a big, gooey mouthful of (to use a deplorable example) a Velveeta quesadilla. (You're right: Velveeta isn't cheese. It really isn't food, in my book.)
That was a good realization to have.
Another consequence of the challenge was simply being on the quest to learn more about who is growing things nearby. I met new farmers, and made new friends. I got excited to open my horizons, and to share what I'd learned with other people.
Take golden raspberries, like the ones pictured above. (If you look closely, you will see that the basket is nested inside another basket: Logan (our grandson who lives with us) and I usually can't make it all the way home with golden raspberries. We once polished off three baskets in a late-afternoon commute from the other side of town. We weren't quite as desperate as the Donner party, but those raspberries hadn't a chance.)
I found that Vanessa Bogenholm's golden raspberries were the best I've ever had. She wins. I'll buy them whenever I see them, no matter who grows them, but Vanessa's berries are just bigger and better than others I've tried. Likewise, I like Ronald Donkervoort's carrots from Windmill Farms. I might be irrational, but I don't think so. All the farmers are good, and some seem to have a way with certain things—like Happy Boy Farms heirloom tomatoes, or Dirty Girl's beans: haricot verts, romano, yellow wax, you name it...Joe Schirmer's my go-to guy for fresh beans. Knowing what I like, I visit the markets and "spread the love around": I buy from as many producers as possible, at every market I visit.
I wouldn't do well with a CSA, I'm afraid, though I am glad for their existence for souls better organized than I.
Now we're looking at May. The torrential, sideways,
pelting, relentless, endless, cold rains this year seem to have gone. Two weeks of
warm sun lifted what bordered on despair for me and for many of my
farming friends. At the farmers market last week, I was cheered to see
new crops: the fava beans are in, and I've been longing for them. I
came home with leeks (Windmill Farms), favas (K T Farm, Fresno),
asparagus (organic, not sure of the farm), as well as some black sable
fish (straight from the Monterey Bay, courtesy of H & H Fresh
Fish). I also bought some Sweet Williams in my favorite color, because
flowers were all the Thomas Family Farm had to sell. (They are the
growers of my favorite potatoes in other times of the year, as well as some fine squash and other great vegetables.)
I know: you can't eat a bouquet of flowers, but there are other parts of the soul that want nourishment, too, and this pink did the trick.
• • • • • • • • • • •
But despite a couple of weeks of golden sunshine to dry out the soggy fields, farmers are slow to get things planted. We're a month behind in general, and the crops that are usually starting to appear will be delayed. I'm not sure what to expect, but I expect I won't do as well as I did last August in making most of our meals from the 100-mile foodshed that the Locavores suggest.
I'm not as committed (or insane) as Cookie Crumb, who made her own salt. (!) I'll take the same exemptions I had last year: tea, spices, and whatever's already in my own house. I may cast a wider net than the 100-mile radius. (Hey, I live on the coast. Half my circle's underwater!) I may focus on making just one meal from all-local ingredients.
I'm making an exception for Rancho Gordo beans, which are grown up
on the Sacramento River delta, because I want to support the
agriculture he's promoting—Steve's doing more for thoughtful eating
than any one person I know, except perhaps Guillermo Payet, the founder of LocalHarvest.org.
We'll see how it goes.
Tana Butler is a professional photographer, web designer, and writer who has been blogging for a little over a year at Small Farms: A Blog from the Heart. Her photographs have been published in Elle, Sunset, The London Observer magazine, and other national and regional publications. She is passionate about supporting local producers, and has created a map featuring farms and chefs/restaurants who buy directly from local farms.
