www.eatlocalchallenge.com

Cornbread, biscuits, and cheese grits

by Jamie S.

Welcome to my world.

Let's be honest: This is no Vermont. Have you ever noticed how many organic, small-farmed, value-added products originate in Vermont? I think we in the South need to do what the railroads did in the mid-1800s: recruit by all means necessary. We need to paper New England with flyers describing what an idyllic, easy life can be had amongst central Georgia's granite quarries and pine tree plantations. Just show up, bring your chevre and your micro-greens with you, and we'll give you 40 acres and a mule.

Okay, I'm exaggerating. But we do have to do a little more digging to find small local producers. Their wares aren't found in most grocery stores, but the producers are out there. And one of the things our local producers do best is grist milling.

Regional repasts

by Jamie S.

When I declared my intentions for this year's Eat Local Challenge, I wrote: "I will use the Eat Local Challenge as an opportunity to emphasize the flavors that are native to the American South." Why? Because although the South has lost much of its small-farm network (in most people's minds, CSA stands for the Confederacy rather than for a weekly box of fresh vegetables), it still has one of the country's most vibrant local cuisines.

I'm a northerner. This isn't the cuisine I grew up with, so why celebrate it? Well, I like it, for one thing. But also, it's far easier to do the Eat Local Challenge if you work with local tradition rather than against it.

Field trip report #1: Strawberry fields forever

by Jamie S.

I've been living in the South for...let's see, six years now. And still it catches me off guard. If I hadn't been involved in the Eat Local Challenge, I might never have noticed that Georgia's strawberry season is in full swing right now. It's over by the end of May--I could have missed it by mistake, which would have been very unfortunate indeed.

So yesterday, while I was in town, I decided to take a break from my errands and pick some strawberries. Washington Farms is tucked in among some of the University of Georgia's myriad agriculture demonstration sites. It's an unassuming flat spot with a few novelty livestock pens and a couple of acres of raised, black-plasticked strawberry rows.

A few tips for the May 2006 Eat Local Challenge

by Jamie S.

In the middle of last year’s Eat Local Challenge, my grandmother became gravely ill. I packed my things and flew from Georgia to Ohio so I could visit her.

I stayed with my mother while I was there. And although there was a lot going on family-wise, I couldn’t see any reason why I shouldn’t continue to eat locally while I was away from home. The only difference was that “local” was somewhere different.

That’s how my mother got sucked into the ELC. Together, we shopped at roadside stands. We took field trips to fruit farms. We reveled in Amish cheeses. We discovered new breeds of vegetables.

So when I got an e-mail about this year’s Eat Local Challenge, I forwarded it to her. It contained the Locavore pledge:

If not LOCALLY PRODUCED, then Organic.
If not ORGANIC, then Family farm.
If not FAMILY FARM, then Local business.
If not a LOCAL BUSINESS, then Fair Trade.

A suspicion

by Jamie S.

I'll admit it: Down here in middle Georgia (the lower edge of Zone 7), we have it easy. Most of our sturdy greens and root vegetables can be overwintered, and our spring planting season starts in March. May is a shoulder season--down with the old, up with the new.

(I won't mention the bugs and the heat. I know it comes off as whining. World's tiniest violin, etc.)

If you live in a colder zone, you may be worried that there won't be much of anything at your local farmstand in May. But remember that some of your local farmers have greenhouses. I have a plastic hoophouse, and it makes me feel pretty darned clever. You can push the seasons ahead by a month at least. The plants grow in the same soil and battle the same bugs; the only difference is a little extra solar heat.

There's still time!

by Jamie S.

The May Eat Local Challenge starts in only a couple of weeks. But if you can lay hands on a little bit of good dirt, you can have your own homegrown greens sooner than you think. Arugula "Astro" is a variety that comes up fast and tolerates heat--which, if you're in the American southeast like I am, is going to be important in the hot drought year that's shaping up.

Or you can plant sorrel (pictured). Few greens are as versatile as this easy-to-grow, tart-leaved perennial. I'll be showcasing it in various ways throughout the month.

Jamie S. lives in rural Georgia and writes 10 Signs Like This, a blog that's part gardening journal, part cookbook, part sustainable lifestyle, and part short attention span.