Where My Food Comes From

by Tea

When I was a kid I could have told you exactly where most of my food came from. I might even have grabbed your hand and dragged you out the kitchen door to the edge of the deck where you could see the big organic garden my mother tended. It was filled with rows of tomatoes, peas, peppers, zucchini. There was a patch of corn that my brother and I used to play hide-and-seek in, another patch filled with asparagus.

Next to the garden was the chicken house. A little further over was the compost pile. There were fruit trees as well—apple, pear, plum, cherry, and a dwarf peach tree that never gave us any peaches. There was a patch of raspberry bushes by the small creek, wild blackberries everywhere. If I were hungry all I had to do was grab an apple off the tree, or pop a cherry tomato into my mouth, bursting sweet and warm from the sun.

Sure, there were things we bought at the store—rice, bread, oranges occasionally. But most of the time, and for most of the year, dinner came from our backyard.

When I was eleven we left that house and moved closer to San Francisco. There were a variety of factors that went into that decision, but one was the fierce storms that had buffeted northern California the winter of ’82. Our small town had flooded, the seasonal creek on our property turning into a raging river that nearly forced evacuations. When the floodwaters receded my mother’s garden had become a sand flat, she didn’t have the time, energy, or heart to rebuild.

Away from the country we shopped more at the store, but also at the farmers’ market just starting up in our county. We hadn’t grown the carrots ourselves, but the people we bought them from had and that was the next best thing. Not everything was organic, but there were some farmers who were and we got to know them over the years.

When I moved away for college I lived in real farmland. There were fields of wheat, acres of asparagus, and sweet onions famous the world over. Yet in all that time I never saw a real, live farmer—though we did drive out and drink beer in their wheat fields at sunset. Everything that was grown in southeastern Washington seemed to be shipped elsewhere. And in the three years I lived in Walla Walla, I ate a Walla Walla Sweet Onion only twice.

After graduation I moved to the mountains of Japan. The supermarkets there were astounding—all vegetables immaculately clean and shrink-wrapped, so removed from their earthy origins. Yet in the narrow corridor along the train tracks—space that would otherwise be wasted—people had planted vegetable gardens. I lived in a small city, high in the mountains, and worked for a village nearby. Even families who were not farmers had a rice paddy or two they harvested each fall. Friends of mine went foraging for bamboo shoots in the spring, mushrooms in the fall. Food was seasonal.

When I returned to the US I moved to San Francisco. I was working a lot, trying to build a career, living a busy city life. During this time I could have told you where my meals came from—the many small, ethnic restaurants in my neighborhood. After a long day at the office it was much easier to order takeout than cook. Back then my roommates thought I was impressive for occasionally whipping up a soup or tomato sauce; one roommate lived on popcorn and red wine, another joked that her food preparation consisted of picking up the phone and dialing. It was a busy urban life, not uncommon these days, and the origin of my meals was the farthest thing from my mind.

About six months ago things started changing. Though a twist of fate I discovered food blogs. This has, in an odd way, lead me back to where I started. I began cooking more, remembering how much I’ve always loved it. I’ve stopped eating out as much, preferring instead to invite friends over for a meal. Interest in cooking and food eventually spills over to a concern with where your food comes from, how it gets to you. I’m back visiting farmers’ markets on a regular basis, growing herbs in a window box, planning for tomato plants this summer. I’ve joined a CSA. I now know the names of the farmers I buy from, the people who plant and tend my food.

For me the Eat Local Challenge is a further step on the path I began walking last fall. I’m doing it as an educational exercise, and to deepen my commitment to locally grown products and produce. I’m surprised to find that it isn’t nearly as difficult as I expected. Had I attempted this six months ago it would have been quite a challenge, but many of the changes I’ve already made. And I am enjoying the added incentive to explore additional local producers. I love how each farmer, baker, and beekeeper has a story behind them. How they got into the business, the passion and pleasure that keeps them there.

These days if you ask me where my food comes from, I can tell you. It might not be as simple as dragging you to the edge of the deck and pointing, but I can unfold a map of northern California and show you the location of the dairy near Point Reyes where I get my milk and yogurt, the area of the Sacramento delta where my beans are grown, the farm in Dixon where my vegetables and eggs come from, the coastal fields that provide my strawberries. I still have a busy city life, without the resources to grow my own food, but I can make a difference by supporting others who do. It’s not my backyard, but it is the next best thing.

When not trolling farmers' markets in the San Francisco Bay Area, Tea can often be found writing the blog Tea & Cookies, a series of food essays and recipes.

Comments

[Ivonne]

Beautifully written, Tea. Your passion comes right through. Like you I was always able to look out at the backyard garden and know that the food we ate came from there. I lost that a bit during high school and university. And you're right ... food blogging has reawakend that interest and thank goodness!

Enjoy the challenge and may it bring you many happy discoveries!

[Julie]

I love love love love this post!

[Emma Pierce]

It's a little surreal reading your post - I feel like it's my own. Having grown up in the farming area of Petaluma, flood stranded us on our hillside in '82 and we moved to the 'burbs shortly thereafter. The world is such a small place, isn't it? And knowing someone with an extremely similar background is out there doing the things I'm doing makes me feel somehow less like one person can't have an impact...

[Tea]

Ivonne--thank you, my dear. I always love hearing the stories of your family and childhood. Lucky us, eh?

Julie--I love love love love all the great work you and CUESA are doing! Thank you!

Emma--how funny, we were in San Geronimo, not too far from you. So glad you enjoyed the post. It is nice to have company in this quest, isn't it?

[cookiecrumb]

Oh, snap! Perfect. I loved reading this
(Get some balcony pots!)

[Birdsong]

A delightful journey with you, reading about your food awareness path.

[Tea]

Cookiecrumb--Even better, this summer I'm planting things in my mom's yard in MV. Her house gets a lot more sun (and far less fog) than mine does!

Birdsong--thank you, it's been quite a journey already. I look forward to seeing where it ends (in the country with chickens most likely).

[Darla]

Oh my gosh I want your childhood! Che Paradiso!
(I don't even know if I said that right). Well I went to the Farmer's Market Saturday (was doubly "organic" by riding my bicycle the 2 miles) and thought how much fun it would be to be scouring the market with you. I had envisioned things like red bell peppers, arugula, asparagus, tomatoes, eggplant, zucchini, but alas, this is Iowa, not California, and the only thing ready for me were a few measly peppers, onions and tomates, of which I already had plenty. Sad day.

[Sarah]

What strikes me about so many of the people on this blog is that they're either in Northern California or have the space for gardens. I live in NYC and I'm very involved in our local CSA. But our CSA farmer has to drive 4 hours from upstate NY (at least 150 miles) to deliver to Brooklyn. Similarly, NY Greenmarkets draw farmers from upstate, Vermont, New Jersey etc, often further than 100 miles. "Local" takes on quite different meaning in that context. There are some farms on Long Island, but farming has largely disappeared from the larger NY metro area. Several of my friends belong to community gardens, and that is an option to grow your own food, although it doesn't quite have the convenience of having a garden in your own backyard.

I wonder, too, how one defines "local." After all, I'd imagine locally baked bread doesn't use flour from wheat grown in NY (or California, probably, for that matter). Of course, this can get you to a reductio ad absurdum, but there are a set of overlapping but not equivalent terms: organic, locally-grown, seasonal, locally-made, small-scale, sustainable etc etc, and it's hard to know which to value more or less. For me, supporting a family farm upstate, getting terrific organic seasonal produce, building my local community etc etc are the most important values.

[Tea]

Good points, Sarah. I've thought a lot about the Northern California thing--it is relatively easy to eat local here and that is not true for all areas (I actually want to write a post about this soon). What makes it possible is the weather (hard to get around), but the other thing is that since the 70s there has been a focus on promoting locally grown and fresh produce in this area (thank you Alice Waters). Because of this farms in the area have flourished. The thing I think is exciting about the Eat Local Challenge is that by bringing the focus on the importance of local farms, more farms may be supported and preserved in other areas as well. No, it's not easy to do the 100 mile thing everywhere, but by making an effort to do the best we can, it may become easier down the road. If there isn't the demand there it certainly isn't going to happen.

And you're right about the flour. For the ELC month I didn't eat bread, as I couldn't find any that were locally baked with local wheat (some participants decided they would allow locally produced food, even if the ingredients were not local, while others went whole hog). I did make a loaf of bread myself, from local wheat I found at the farmers' market, but besides that I skipped pasta and bread for the month.

I think whatever effort we make--if it's buying from a farmer upstate rather than from across the country or from overseas--is a step in the right direction. And I totally agree with you about supporting family farms, getting good produce, and building community being the most important part.

[Spring]

Inspiring read! I too am working on eating more local foods.

[Emily]

Hey, all -

Sometimes I'm jealous of California residents (like February...*grin*) but we really have a pretty good amount of local food in the Midwest. I've started a wiki at http://foodorigins.wikispaces.com/ for folks to record their notes on where their food comes from. I've tried to list a number of "name-brand" foods for folks who don't have access to a truly local market. Some info centers around southern Michigan, but come take a look and add your info for your location!

[talia]

I'm a Brooklyn, NY resident too and finding the same limitations as others have noted on the local food horizons. for the eat local challenge i'm going to try to stick to a 100 mile radius but for more long term changes to my diet there are other options that are a whole lot better than getting your food from across the country: or from another continent.
the closest flour i've found comes from upstate new york. http://www.thebirkettmills.com/
if anyone else has resources for flour closer to teh city, or any other hard to find item they have searched out, it would be great to know about it.

[Marsha Roby]

I live in the mountains of California in Plumas County but am coming down to the Bay Area for Thanksgiving with my family. After reading Barbara Kingsolver's book "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" my sisters and I are inspired to try to make our Thanksgiving dinner from foods that are as "local" as possible. I have to drive through the central valley to get to the Peninsula. Is there anywhere I can get wheat or flour that is locally grown?

[Concrete Gardener Jo]

Like Marsha I was inspired by "Animal, Vegetable Miracle" (and read it to be inspired).

I really appreciate this back and forth transition-- different lifestyles "fit" at different stages in our lives and move us forward. Thanks so much for this post.