www.eatlocalchallenge.com

My Eat Local Month

By Marc

During the month of May, I challenged myself to cook only ingredients from within a 100-mile circle around Berkeley, California.  It was a learning---and sometimes yearning---experience for me to limit my ingredients so much (in one of the most agriculturally diverse areas in the nation, to be sure).  This post is my attempt at a summary of my experience.

I had many conflicting thoughts during the challenge (for example:  the sugar snap peas are so delicious; there's nothing to snack on;  sugar glazed local pecans are amazing; some tofu would be ideal in this stir fry, but it's way too far outsider the circle;  these local eggs make remarkable frittatas), so as I try to sum up my month of Eating Local, I keep thinking of the beginning of Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities.  You know how it goes: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness,..." and so on. It seems ripe for adaptation into a description of my month of cooking and eating local, but I won't subject you to that potential literary disaster (feel free to give it a try in the comments...here is the full text of the novel).

The Ignorant Gardener

By Lucette

Like a lot of ELCers, I've been turning to my garden this month for some local eating. The tomatoes and peppers are only flowers so far, but I've got 3 kinds of lettuce, radishes, parsley, dill, sage, cilantro, mustard, mint, spinach, and chard in various sizes and states of growth. I've been making a lunch for myself that consists of rice and a bit of butter and a couple of handfuls of green things snipped in the garden--very nice.

I also have the solution to a garden mystery. I've lived in this house for 20 years, and I've been gardening for nineteen of them. And all that time I've been trying to identify one of the garden heirlooms I inherited from the former owners. Thanks to the ELC in general and Barbara of Tigers and Strawberries in particular, I have the answer: garlic scapes.

What is Ripe?

By Expat Chef

A lot of the articles on this site talk about the glorious TASTE of local produce, but rather than take our word for it, allow me to bore you with the details. If you want the full explanation, you should seek out the essay, “Ripeness is All,” in Jeffrey Steingarten’s book, The Man Who Ate Everything.

I have to admit, I find Steingarten most abrasive as a judge on Iron Chef America, but his food writing is excellent, sort of “Alton Brown Goes to Harvard, but Remains Funny.” He often borders on obsessive, which makes for a great read. You won’t even realize you are learning.

In this essay, he describes fully the mechanics of ripening for fruits and vegetables. The short version is that no fruit or vegetable will ever attain its height of flavor, texture and aroma if picked before peak ripeness.

Squashed

By Expat Chef

It hits me right around September. This longing for warm, earthy, savory-sweet winter squash dishes. I am a nut for pumpkin. Or butternut. I spend 12 hours solid making Butternut Squash ravioli, pasta and all.

But it is not fall. It’s summer and the Farmer’s Market is flooded with summer squash. Four for a dollar, and a pound or so each. Squash everywhere. It’s not a complaint, just that summer squash pales in color, texture and flavor to my orange favorites.

I’ve tried to love it. I have. It doesn’t taste bad. Or good. It just doesn’t taste like much of anything. Unless you add a lot to it, that is. But seriously, eating Zucchini Bread is NOT like eating a vegetable. It’s not even bread. It’s cake, okay, cake. Zucchini fritters? Fried batter. Hot, greasy carbs. Vegetable oil, yes, vegetable, no.

Chase's Daily

by Liz

When you have a garden, it's so easy to get spoiled by all the top quality produce that you grow.  Dining out can often be disappointing because its clear many restaurants don't feel the way about fresh vegetables as you do. Chase's Daily is the exception, and the place in Belfast, Maine to head for local food on the menu.  The Chase family owns and operates a 500-acre farm in nearby Freedom, and grows a large portion of the produce they serve in this breakfast and lunch spot.  Dinners are only served on Fridays, and are top notch, as is the in-house bakery.

June is still on the cusp of the growing season in Maine, and our fresh produce choices at this time of year mostly include greens of all kinds, a "complaint" of many ELC-ers in May.  After months of living off the root cellar, jars of canned goods and the freezer, we've been delighted to see the tender greens of early summer, although after a while, we're left craving more substantial veggies.  Unfortunately for us, even peas are still a couple of weeks away!

It is catching on!

by Heather C.

I was finally able to go to a farmer's market this weekend!  The markets here are now open and the one I went to is twice as large as it was last year.  The diversity of the vegetables available and the professionalism of the packaging is also increasing and that seems to be causing some concerns among shoppers.

One lady was selling hydroponic cucumbers and tomatoes.  I know this because she had boxes that had that printed on the side.  The cucumbers were also shrink wrapped.  This gave me pause before buying because I wasn't sure if they were local.  Apparantly I wasn't the only one with that concern.

Cracking the Eat Local Code

by Holly

Patrick posted some of his end o' ELC thoughts a while back, but I've been stewing on mine for a while.

I had surprisingly mixed feelings at the outset of the challenge, after my initial burst of "right on!" when Patrick mentioned the idea. I tend to be a bit compulsive, and until I relaxed and let myself have spices from who knows where, and olive oil from California, I was feeling a bit caged. I think this is in no small part because we are still finding our place in our new city.

Lessons I Learned (or: Fanatacism in Moderation)

by Julie Cummins

photo: Star Route Farms, Bolinas, CA

Now that I've gotten some perspective on my somewhat extreme pledge to eat (almost) entirely local for the month of May, here are a few of the lessons I learned:

1. I, like all residents of the San Francisco Bay Area, am blessed. Many of the raw ingredients I eat are available from nearby producers who use relatively sustainable methods. The Challenge was a lot easier for me than for participants in places like Colorado and New Hampshire. The climate-moderating influence of the Pacific, the excellent soils, and the culture of food converge to make this one of the easiest places to eat all local, all the time. 

This disparity hit me when, towards the end of May, I traveled to Bend, Oregon for a friend's wedding.

My front yard is ripe!

by Christine

I planted fruit plants 3 years ago. When I bought the little quart sized red and white Nanking Cherry bushes, 2 blueberry bushes, red and white strawberries, blackberries, black and red raspberries and figs, I had only hope. Now, our front yard is ripe and I can't keep the kids out of the yard! Lance, who is 3, is the worst! He runs out the front yard and goes straight to the blueberries and picks any that aren't totally green. He is an expert at picking the not completely ripe berries. I yell at him and he doesn't listen. He is a berry man.

The Nanking Cherries are a wonderful surprise. I love them. The bushes have really grown huge and they bloom beautifully in the early spring, which makes them worth keeping around. In early June, they are covered in little slightly sour cherries. I have one white and one red. They grow right on the branches and do not hang down like regular cherries. It tickles me so much to walk out the door and just pick a handful or two for a snack.

The Beet Goes On

by Expat Chef

Finally. The Beet War has been won. I made my decisive victory in a moment of recipe inspiration while planting the herbs from last weekend’s trip to the Farmers’ Market. The following Roasted Beets with Mixed Herbs and Shallot dish that I dreamed up has converted my spouse from Beet Phobe to Beet Fan. He ate more in a single sitting than had in his previous lifetime.

“Oh, great,” he says, “now that I like them, they are nearly out of season.”

True. What is it with humans that we only appreciate something fully when we can’t have it? But, this is not such a bad thing. It is the waiting that makes the heart grow fonder. That particular fruit or veggieˆs long-awaited arrival the next spring in its peak of ripeness is something akin to a little Christmas morning for the taste buds.