Don't even tell me, because I know -- this is just about 100% O/T. My town is more than 100 miles from the coastline, so it seems unlikely lobsters fall into the "locavore" or "sustainability" category, and I'm procuring these guys from a (small, family) Maine purveyor using non-earth-friendly packing and shipping methods. Except that I've been reading Trevor Corson's The Secret Life of Lobsters, while musing over what to serve for my first at-home Christmas Eve dinner, which means SEAFOOD under one of the very few family traditions I follow, and...inspiration struck, what can I say.
The Maine lobstering community in the Cranberry Isles, ME, reminds me a lot of our local farmers here in the Pioneer Valley. Some of the same concerns prevail -- market conditions, large-scale, outside corporate and governmental influence and regulation, the changing environment, and managing for sustainability. They are specialists in their field, conscientious about not over-fishing, and while they compete for product, they seem to have a great deal of respect for one another.
A few fun facts about lobsters (there are more here) -- did you know:
*There are more than 50 species of clawed lobsters
*There are hunchback locust lobsters, regal slipper lobsters, marbled mitten lobsters, velvet fan lobsters, musical furry lobsters, unicorn and buffalo blunt-horn lobsters
*Female lobsters choose the males they want to propagate with
*Lobsters of the same size may challenge each other using a form of claw-wrestling. After about 15 or 20 seconds the "loser" will try to back away, and the "winner" will release his grip.
*There are, occasionally, blue Maine lobsters.
Read Corson's book to learn about "superlobsters" -- a brief point in a lobster's development, when they can almost "fly" through the sea before finding shelter, shedding their shell, and growing larger.
Or for more fun facts -- just don't rely on them to be true -- check out John Hodgman's unique coverage of lobsters in The Areas of My Expertise.
I was always a little queasy about the idea of cooking lobster at home, and you'd think reading this book, understanding how special lobsters are, might not have resulted in my ordering lobster for Christmas Eve dinner. Maybe I just got hungry... But I'd rather think I was inspired to participate in the process a little more actively as opposed to occasionally driving to a shoreline and having a cooked entree appear magically before me. I want to take a little more responsibility for what I'm eating, and understand it better.
So, four 1.25 pound lobsters (smaller are sweeter) will show up at my door on Christmas Eve, and after reading up on many options for their dispatch, I plan to boil about an inch of water in a big pot, thank them, drop them in, hold down the lid, and try to forgive myself. I don't think I'll be naming these guys -- couldn't possibly top what's already been done before.
I'm going to stop whining about "the kill" now because I'm starting to remind myself of my absolute favorite poem...
Happy holidays!
Friday, December 19, 2008
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Distinctive Tastes
We ordered takeout from China Gourmet last week, and I was looking for something spicy and savory that had no relation to turkey, potatoes, or winter squash, so I ordered the shredded pork with black bean sauce -- and wow, it was just the thing to completely reboot my palate. It was tangy, sharp, and completely memorable (was it just umami? or something more?). I had only ever read about fermented black beans in More Home Cooking by the wonderful and much-misssed Laurie Colwin. She says,
I'm still not sure I actually liked eating fermented black beans. But tasting something new and distinctive can be exhilarating, and I think I want another hit. It's not hard to understand why Anthony Bourdain or even a sensationalist like Andrew Zimmern have devoted careers to seeking out new flavors and textures that fall outside of what most eaters, even many chefs, have encountered. I can't say I'd care to bother with rooster balls or giant flying ants, but on an adventurous eating scale I'm probably about a 7 or 8 --limited less by prejudices; more so by resources and opportunity. Most of us can't drop everything to jet off to Uganda...or even Southern California.
Meanwhile, cauliflower and fermented black bean linguine, cooked and served right here in Western Mass, might be just the thing.
"I have not been without fermented black beans since I first encountered them years ago in a dish of shrimp in black bean sauce. These are pungent little beans preserved in salt and ginger. ...They are heavenly in vegetable pastas: Chopped up cauliflower or broccoli sauteed in olive oil and garlic and sprinkled with some fermented black beans on top of linguine is fast, easy, and totally delicious. This basic method works well with any kind of vegetable, including eggplant, which has a deep affinity with pasta. You can use them as an interesting substitute for capers and sprinkle them on top of foccacia or homemade pizza."
I'm still not sure I actually liked eating fermented black beans. But tasting something new and distinctive can be exhilarating, and I think I want another hit. It's not hard to understand why Anthony Bourdain or even a sensationalist like Andrew Zimmern have devoted careers to seeking out new flavors and textures that fall outside of what most eaters, even many chefs, have encountered. I can't say I'd care to bother with rooster balls or giant flying ants, but on an adventurous eating scale I'm probably about a 7 or 8 --limited less by prejudices; more so by resources and opportunity. Most of us can't drop everything to jet off to Uganda...or even Southern California.
Meanwhile, cauliflower and fermented black bean linguine, cooked and served right here in Western Mass, might be just the thing.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Holiday Advocacy
Carol Blymire is much more eloquent, organized, and effective that I could ever possibly be on this topic, so I'll refrain from making much more of a pitch, other than encourage you to donate to the Food Bank of Western MA, Share Our Strength, and/or any other local food and shelter service organization. We're all experiencing tough times, but our economic problems have put a great strain on these organizations' resources, as they struggle to serve growing numbers of families in need while facing brutal state and federal funding cuts.
Please make every effort you can to support local charities and local businesses this holiday season.
Please make every effort you can to support local charities and local businesses this holiday season.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Ummm, is it really December?
Apologies to all who have been reading, if any have been reading! Thanksgiving got a little more elaborate and distracting than I intended, and breaking a small bone in my right hand in the middle of food prep (while completely sober, natch) derailed me for a bit, too.
While I'm in the midst of getting myself together again, check out the following links if you haven't already run across them:
Slate discusses whether takeout can actually be "green."
NY Mag unearths some locavore artifacts from a few wars ago.
And if you're local -- or just interested -- check out the Franklin County Community Development Corporation's Food Processing Center. Some very cool stuff from Pioneer Valley producers is made at this facility, and distributed to our favorite local stores. I am interested in exploring this program a bit more -- if I do, I'll follow up with a post.
More original content will follow, very shortly!
While I'm in the midst of getting myself together again, check out the following links if you haven't already run across them:
Slate discusses whether takeout can actually be "green."
NY Mag unearths some locavore artifacts from a few wars ago.
And if you're local -- or just interested -- check out the Franklin County Community Development Corporation's Food Processing Center. Some very cool stuff from Pioneer Valley producers is made at this facility, and distributed to our favorite local stores. I am interested in exploring this program a bit more -- if I do, I'll follow up with a post.
More original content will follow, very shortly!
Thursday, November 13, 2008
The Secret Is Not Swanson
While watching the "Top Chef" premiere last night I was subjected to a bevy of food promotion, including a Thanksgiving-themed ad touting the wonders of boxed Swanson chicken broth. Michael Ruhlman feels strongly that if given the choice between boxed or canned stock, you should just use water. I won't lie, one box 'o broth does reside in my pantry -- but most of the time, I use my own, straight from the freezer.
Chicken stock recipes abound, but here's how I make a very basic quantity of low-fat, no-salt stock:
2.5 pounds (more or less) of mixed chicken parts -- can be carcasses from roasters you've saved and frozen, wing tips, necks, backs, gizzards. Cooked or uncooked, just make sure the skin and fat have been removed. I throw in a handful of chicken feet, which are perhaps not the most appealing chicken part, but they help the stock gel marvelously. (Locals can buy large, cheap bags of frozen chicken feet and necks from Arnold's.)
I heap them in my slow cooker, cover with water -- 8+ cups -- and cook on low for about 8 hours.
Or you can throw the chicken stuff in a pot, cover with water, and just barely simmer for a few hours, skimming occasionally. You can also roast the bones first. You can add a quartered onion, carrot, celery stalk, and parsley to the water. Or not.
Pour off the stock from the bones and other stuff -- you can strain it if you want -- into a large bowl, then set into a sink full of ice water (those frozen icepacks work great to chill). Let it cool and gel, uncovered. Skim the fat off the surface. Or you can put it into the fridge, uncovered, until the fat has risen to the surface, skim. Then put into containers and freeze or the fridge and use within a few days.
It's an inexpensive, easy, forgiving recipe, and you're making use of throwaway parts to create a base for something tasty -- like a soup, gravy, or sauce. Now THAT'S the secret.
---
For my first ever traditional Thanksgiving dinner, I'll be making my own turkey stock, thanks to Bon Appetit's recipe. More on this soon, as Thanksgiving approaches.
Chicken stock recipes abound, but here's how I make a very basic quantity of low-fat, no-salt stock:
2.5 pounds (more or less) of mixed chicken parts -- can be carcasses from roasters you've saved and frozen, wing tips, necks, backs, gizzards. Cooked or uncooked, just make sure the skin and fat have been removed. I throw in a handful of chicken feet, which are perhaps not the most appealing chicken part, but they help the stock gel marvelously. (Locals can buy large, cheap bags of frozen chicken feet and necks from Arnold's.)
I heap them in my slow cooker, cover with water -- 8+ cups -- and cook on low for about 8 hours.
Or you can throw the chicken stuff in a pot, cover with water, and just barely simmer for a few hours, skimming occasionally. You can also roast the bones first. You can add a quartered onion, carrot, celery stalk, and parsley to the water. Or not.
Pour off the stock from the bones and other stuff -- you can strain it if you want -- into a large bowl, then set into a sink full of ice water (those frozen icepacks work great to chill). Let it cool and gel, uncovered. Skim the fat off the surface. Or you can put it into the fridge, uncovered, until the fat has risen to the surface, skim. Then put into containers and freeze or the fridge and use within a few days.
It's an inexpensive, easy, forgiving recipe, and you're making use of throwaway parts to create a base for something tasty -- like a soup, gravy, or sauce. Now THAT'S the secret.
---
For my first ever traditional Thanksgiving dinner, I'll be making my own turkey stock, thanks to Bon Appetit's recipe. More on this soon, as Thanksgiving approaches.
Monday, November 10, 2008
THE CHEESE PROJECT, Episode One: Ricotta
Probably one reason why dieting has never worked for me is that I've never been able to bid goodbye to cheese, even temporarily. A chocolate moratorium? No problem. But I have a long-standing passion for all kinds of cheese (REAL cheese), and it probably motivated me to learn to cook as a child. Scrambled eggs, with cheese. Open-face farm cheddar oozing off wheat toast with a dill pickle on the side...coating my mom's toaster oven with grease, I'm sure, but yeah, tasty stuff.
Our proximity to Vermont means great cheese is made just over the border. Even closer is Ricki the Cheese Queen, of Animal, Vegetable, Miracle fame, based in Ashfield. Her site, cheesemaking.com, has pretty much everything you need to know to make cheese at home, so if you're not charmed by my prose, it's probably not a bad idea to head on over there instead.
Still with me? Thanks. I picked up Ricki's cheese kit at the Ashfield Hardware Store (despite utterly lacking cell phone service, Ashfield has a lot going for it -- Elmer's is supposed to offer a great breakfast, and the Fall Festival is something to see).
Click on the below for a few captioned shots of the process!
The kit includes rennet tabs, citric acid (also useful for canning), "cheese salt," "buttercloth" (why not "cheesecloth?"), a glass thermometer, and a handy instruction list.
All you need is a gallon of "good" milk, organic is best, but local is good. Ultrapasteurized and "long life" milk do not work for cheesemaking. I was able to pick up a very heavy half-gallon glass bottle of Mapleline Farm whole milk, made right here in Hadley, at Whole Foods, but had to supplement with 1/2 gallon of Whole Foods milk of unknown provenance -- which was a bit of a problem, as you'll see shortly.
I decided to go with the ricotta recipe. Added the milk, 1 tsp of citric acid, and 1tsp of cheese salt, stirred in a stainless steel pot.
Stirred and stirred to avoid scorching the milk, and took the temperature from time to time. Goal was 195 degrees, at which point, the curds separate. Right away the milk looked "curdy" -- not sure that will show up in the photo, but a few thick clumps floated to the top within about 5 minutes of stovetop time.
I am not sure the glass thermometer was the way to go for temperature reading -- I switched back and forth between that and an instant-read digital thermometer. Watching the red mercury rise reminded me of the days when I would beg to stay home sick from school...but it also got a little tedious. However, the instant-read had a smaller probe, so it's possible it was not getting a very accurate reading deep within the hot milk. Next time I may try a clip-on candy thermometer.
When the thermometer(s) reached 195, the curds floated to the top in a sold mass, leaving a yellowish whey beneath them. I let the pot sit for 5 minutes, and lined a colander with buttercloth and set it into a large bowl.
I ladled the curds into the colander, draining awhey (sorry) away the whey. Sure looked like ricotta, and smelled great.
But...something was missing, as in half the projected yield of 2 pounds. Which makes me think that the Whole Foods milk is ultra-pasteurized, even though there was no indicator on the packaging. I have to wonder what's being lost by purchasing food that's been processed on a mass scale. If ultra-pasteurized milk does not chemically react like it should in a recipe, I doubt we are seeing its full nutritional benefits when we consume it. And this is Whole Foods, the paragon of large-scale grocers.
Anyway, Ricki instructs you to "hang" the cheese/buttercloth for a half hour until you reach the desired texture. I had no cheese hook sitting around in my kitchen, so I Macguyvered a chip clip and a bowl.
In the future I will probably not drain for 30 minutes as it became too dry (perhaps also due to smaller yield) -- I added back some of the whey.
It is tastier than store-bought ricotta, and I'm not just saying that because I stirred a pot full of milk for 15 minutes. It's sweeter, with a more rounded mouthfeel; I could taste that this was a MILK product. Not at all reminiscent of library paste, or cottage cheese. I stuffed it into some manicotti with some leftover mozzarella and chopped basil from the Aerogarden, defrosted pasta sauce and dumped it on top with grated Parmesan, baked for 30 mins covered, 5 minutes uncovered.
By the whey (d'oh!) I highly recommend scraping remaining curds from the pot of directly into your mouth, if you don't mind burning your tongue.
Overall, this was a satisfying experiment -- easy, quick, with a minimal number of dishes to wash. I'm not sure I'll make a habit out of it, as it was a pain to get the "good" milk (Mapleline, please deliver to Greenfield!). There's no cost-saving argument to be made, either:
Half gallon Mapleline = $3.29
Bottle deposit = $2.00 (refundable)
Half gallon Whole Foods = $2.70 est. (wasted)
2 pounds of "regular" store ricotta = $4.00 est.
Now we could call this "artisan" ricotta, and charge $5/pound, I suppose.
But really, try making your own ricotta because
-- it tastes better and you can use organic local milk
-- it makes a great story for your friends
-- it's a fun way to spend a half hour or so, and you learn something.
Coming soon, THE CHEESE PROJECT, EPISODE TWO: Mozzarella Wars.
Our proximity to Vermont means great cheese is made just over the border. Even closer is Ricki the Cheese Queen, of Animal, Vegetable, Miracle fame, based in Ashfield. Her site, cheesemaking.com, has pretty much everything you need to know to make cheese at home, so if you're not charmed by my prose, it's probably not a bad idea to head on over there instead.
Still with me? Thanks. I picked up Ricki's cheese kit at the Ashfield Hardware Store (despite utterly lacking cell phone service, Ashfield has a lot going for it -- Elmer's is supposed to offer a great breakfast, and the Fall Festival is something to see).
Click on the below for a few captioned shots of the process!
 |
| Cheese Project |
The kit includes rennet tabs, citric acid (also useful for canning), "cheese salt," "buttercloth" (why not "cheesecloth?"), a glass thermometer, and a handy instruction list.
All you need is a gallon of "good" milk, organic is best, but local is good. Ultrapasteurized and "long life" milk do not work for cheesemaking. I was able to pick up a very heavy half-gallon glass bottle of Mapleline Farm whole milk, made right here in Hadley, at Whole Foods, but had to supplement with 1/2 gallon of Whole Foods milk of unknown provenance -- which was a bit of a problem, as you'll see shortly.
I decided to go with the ricotta recipe. Added the milk, 1 tsp of citric acid, and 1tsp of cheese salt, stirred in a stainless steel pot.
Stirred and stirred to avoid scorching the milk, and took the temperature from time to time. Goal was 195 degrees, at which point, the curds separate. Right away the milk looked "curdy" -- not sure that will show up in the photo, but a few thick clumps floated to the top within about 5 minutes of stovetop time.
I am not sure the glass thermometer was the way to go for temperature reading -- I switched back and forth between that and an instant-read digital thermometer. Watching the red mercury rise reminded me of the days when I would beg to stay home sick from school...but it also got a little tedious. However, the instant-read had a smaller probe, so it's possible it was not getting a very accurate reading deep within the hot milk. Next time I may try a clip-on candy thermometer.
When the thermometer(s) reached 195, the curds floated to the top in a sold mass, leaving a yellowish whey beneath them. I let the pot sit for 5 minutes, and lined a colander with buttercloth and set it into a large bowl.
I ladled the curds into the colander, draining awhey (sorry) away the whey. Sure looked like ricotta, and smelled great.
But...something was missing, as in half the projected yield of 2 pounds. Which makes me think that the Whole Foods milk is ultra-pasteurized, even though there was no indicator on the packaging. I have to wonder what's being lost by purchasing food that's been processed on a mass scale. If ultra-pasteurized milk does not chemically react like it should in a recipe, I doubt we are seeing its full nutritional benefits when we consume it. And this is Whole Foods, the paragon of large-scale grocers.
Anyway, Ricki instructs you to "hang" the cheese/buttercloth for a half hour until you reach the desired texture. I had no cheese hook sitting around in my kitchen, so I Macguyvered a chip clip and a bowl.
In the future I will probably not drain for 30 minutes as it became too dry (perhaps also due to smaller yield) -- I added back some of the whey.
It is tastier than store-bought ricotta, and I'm not just saying that because I stirred a pot full of milk for 15 minutes. It's sweeter, with a more rounded mouthfeel; I could taste that this was a MILK product. Not at all reminiscent of library paste, or cottage cheese. I stuffed it into some manicotti with some leftover mozzarella and chopped basil from the Aerogarden, defrosted pasta sauce and dumped it on top with grated Parmesan, baked for 30 mins covered, 5 minutes uncovered.
By the whey (d'oh!) I highly recommend scraping remaining curds from the pot of directly into your mouth, if you don't mind burning your tongue.
Overall, this was a satisfying experiment -- easy, quick, with a minimal number of dishes to wash. I'm not sure I'll make a habit out of it, as it was a pain to get the "good" milk (Mapleline, please deliver to Greenfield!). There's no cost-saving argument to be made, either:
Half gallon Mapleline = $3.29
Bottle deposit = $2.00 (refundable)
Half gallon Whole Foods = $2.70 est. (wasted)
2 pounds of "regular" store ricotta = $4.00 est.
Now we could call this "artisan" ricotta, and charge $5/pound, I suppose.
But really, try making your own ricotta because
-- it tastes better and you can use organic local milk
-- it makes a great story for your friends
-- it's a fun way to spend a half hour or so, and you learn something.
Coming soon, THE CHEESE PROJECT, EPISODE TWO: Mozzarella Wars.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Whole Paycheck, indeed
Was jonesing for sushi last night, and needed "good" milk for tomorrow's cheese project. Filled one shopping bag with:
5 trays of sushi (for me and a friend, and leftovers)
roast beef sandwich (for the BF post-bowling night)
big glass bottle of Mapleline farms whole milk (with $2 deposit)
1/2 gallon Whole Foods whole milk
"Sauces with Love" Suga Rosa pasta sauce (great, and made locally)
The tally...wait for it...$61.
I am putting this into print to shame myself into NOT doing this again.
Tomorrow: the CHEESE PROJECT. With pics.
5 trays of sushi (for me and a friend, and leftovers)
roast beef sandwich (for the BF post-bowling night)
big glass bottle of Mapleline farms whole milk (with $2 deposit)
1/2 gallon Whole Foods whole milk
"Sauces with Love" Suga Rosa pasta sauce (great, and made locally)
The tally...wait for it...$61.
I am putting this into print to shame myself into NOT doing this again.
Tomorrow: the CHEESE PROJECT. With pics.
Friday, November 7, 2008
So Many Choices
As I've said, I'm not a radical locavore, and I try to take a pragmatic but responsible approach the prospect of shopping, cooking or dining, and eating. I don't qualify for sainthood and I'm not interested in applying. I thought I'd explain some of the recommended links I've posted over on the sidebar...you know, to your right.
I try to buy local, and I try to buy organic. If I have to choose between local and organic, I buy local -- the food has traveled less, will keep longer, and I'm contributing to the local economy. I try to cook seasonally -- that will become more difficult as we head into the winter, although I will be experimenting with food storage and preservation next year -- but if what I need isn't produced locally, I at least try to buy it locally.
Arnold's Meats does not guarantee it has organic, grass-fed beef and free-range chicken. However, it's an independently-owned, old-school butcher, the last of a dying industry, at least for the mass market vs. artisan meat purveyors; they offer great service, bulk cuts, and excellent prices; they're convenient to my workplace. Foster's Market also falls into this category -- they have a knowledgable butcher, and terrific customer service. I will always choose Arnold's and Foster's over Stop & Shop. Great, organic grass-fed meat is available at the Co-op, at the Farmer's Market in season, and at Whole Foods, and I buy this when I can -- again, putting local businesses first. However, in a pinch...yep, we go to Stop & Shop...but 85% of our monthly grocery dollars are spent at local businesses.
There aren't any local wineries to speak of, but I buy just about everything I can from Melissa at the Wine Rack in Greenfield.
Most of our dining out dollars are spent at the establishments listed to the right, which use local ingredients as much as possible (The People's Pint most consistently), although during busy weeks we pick up a pizza or Chinese food from our favorite local takeout places.
We're lucky to have a great knife manufacturer and outlet, Lamson & Goodnow, and an exceptional kitchen store, Different Drummer's Kitchen, within an all-too-convenient distance. But if I'm looking for something specific, and need a variety of goods, I also order "in bulk" from Amazon.com.
I'm sure I've missed out on plenty of great local establishments -- please comment or email, and tell me what I've missed!
I try to buy local, and I try to buy organic. If I have to choose between local and organic, I buy local -- the food has traveled less, will keep longer, and I'm contributing to the local economy. I try to cook seasonally -- that will become more difficult as we head into the winter, although I will be experimenting with food storage and preservation next year -- but if what I need isn't produced locally, I at least try to buy it locally.
Arnold's Meats does not guarantee it has organic, grass-fed beef and free-range chicken. However, it's an independently-owned, old-school butcher, the last of a dying industry, at least for the mass market vs. artisan meat purveyors; they offer great service, bulk cuts, and excellent prices; they're convenient to my workplace. Foster's Market also falls into this category -- they have a knowledgable butcher, and terrific customer service. I will always choose Arnold's and Foster's over Stop & Shop. Great, organic grass-fed meat is available at the Co-op, at the Farmer's Market in season, and at Whole Foods, and I buy this when I can -- again, putting local businesses first. However, in a pinch...yep, we go to Stop & Shop...but 85% of our monthly grocery dollars are spent at local businesses.
There aren't any local wineries to speak of, but I buy just about everything I can from Melissa at the Wine Rack in Greenfield.
Most of our dining out dollars are spent at the establishments listed to the right, which use local ingredients as much as possible (The People's Pint most consistently), although during busy weeks we pick up a pizza or Chinese food from our favorite local takeout places.
We're lucky to have a great knife manufacturer and outlet, Lamson & Goodnow, and an exceptional kitchen store, Different Drummer's Kitchen, within an all-too-convenient distance. But if I'm looking for something specific, and need a variety of goods, I also order "in bulk" from Amazon.com.
I'm sure I've missed out on plenty of great local establishments -- please comment or email, and tell me what I've missed!
Welcome!
"I don't want to sell anything, buy anything, or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed, or buy anything sold or processed, or process anything sold, bought, or processed, or repair anything sold, bought, or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that."
--Lloyd Dobler, Say Anything
I don't want to eat, buy, or sell anything processed. I don't want to buy or eat food from restaurants or corporations who rely on food that is processed. I don't want to support agricultural megaliths.
But I'm a realist. I live in New England, which has a short, temperamental growing season. I have a full-time office job, and a long daily commute. I've never gardened beyond sticking some herbs in the ground and keeping the Aerogarden filled up. I love to cook, but there are at least several nights each week where my boyfriend and I don't feel like shopping and chopping. A couple of times a month there is nothing for lunch and my schedule and the culinary wasteland around my office dictates a visit to a drive-thru (although I always regret it afterward).
So: there's no way I can pull a Barbara Kingsolver and live off the land for a year -- even if I wanted to.
But I think we can all get more in touch with how our food is made and processed. And even if we don't have much time to cook at home, directing our dollars towards local restaurants and purveyors who feel the same way is a fast and easy political statement to make.
My motivation to become more informed about where my food is coming from stems more from practicality than virtuousness. I think there's value in knowing HOW to do things. I don't know how to create or process anything -- and the realities of our economy and our climate tell me that perhaps it's time to make myself a more useful member of society. Being an aspirational locavore might help me eat healthier, and save a little money in the long run.
Via this blog, I intend to:
*Share what I've learned about helpful and economical kitchen shortcuts and processes
*Link to interesting food journalism and cooking tools
*Recommend easy, seasonal menus
*Talk to local (Pioneer Valley, MA) restauranteurs and purveyors
*Document my efforts at home food manufacturing and preservation
*Document my attempt to create a home kitchen garden (coming Spring '09!)
Because if I can do it, so can you.
Comments, advice, questions are always welcome.
--Lloyd Dobler, Say Anything
I don't want to eat, buy, or sell anything processed. I don't want to buy or eat food from restaurants or corporations who rely on food that is processed. I don't want to support agricultural megaliths.
But I'm a realist. I live in New England, which has a short, temperamental growing season. I have a full-time office job, and a long daily commute. I've never gardened beyond sticking some herbs in the ground and keeping the Aerogarden filled up. I love to cook, but there are at least several nights each week where my boyfriend and I don't feel like shopping and chopping. A couple of times a month there is nothing for lunch and my schedule and the culinary wasteland around my office dictates a visit to a drive-thru (although I always regret it afterward).
So: there's no way I can pull a Barbara Kingsolver and live off the land for a year -- even if I wanted to.
But I think we can all get more in touch with how our food is made and processed. And even if we don't have much time to cook at home, directing our dollars towards local restaurants and purveyors who feel the same way is a fast and easy political statement to make.
My motivation to become more informed about where my food is coming from stems more from practicality than virtuousness. I think there's value in knowing HOW to do things. I don't know how to create or process anything -- and the realities of our economy and our climate tell me that perhaps it's time to make myself a more useful member of society. Being an aspirational locavore might help me eat healthier, and save a little money in the long run.
Via this blog, I intend to:
*Share what I've learned about helpful and economical kitchen shortcuts and processes
*Link to interesting food journalism and cooking tools
*Recommend easy, seasonal menus
*Talk to local (Pioneer Valley, MA) restauranteurs and purveyors
*Document my efforts at home food manufacturing and preservation
*Document my attempt to create a home kitchen garden (coming Spring '09!)
Because if I can do it, so can you.
Comments, advice, questions are always welcome.
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