I just came out from under a rock, apparently, in starting this blog. My friend Tina alerted me to a relatively (late 2009) new resource for "locavores," (which I'd also never heard of) localyolkel.com.
What is specifically so great about this site is its CSA guide.
I'd really appreciate any feedback or reviews on any of these producers from those of you that have experience with them.
----------
I really enjoyed Freakonomics when it first came out, but the contributors have really begun to lose my interest, with their proclivity for cleverness and "betcha-didn't-think-of-that,-didja"-ness over actual research and factual data to back up their smarminess. (Okay, more than losing favor.) Actually, I was on their side on the whole global warming solutions flap that blew up during the book's preview, as you'll see here. But, when the book's release revealed they were just cavalierly suggesting global warming would basically fix itself and that everybody was just a bunch of Chicken-littles, well...
Today, at the Freakonomics blog, they dug themselves another ad-homonym hole with a little discussion about grass-fed beef. My own comment is linked here.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Waiting for spring
Not much to report, since not much is growing yet, so I thought I'd share a few things in the meantime.
Sunday I visited the Local Harvest Winter Farmer's Market just around the corner from my Irving Park apartment. I didn't buy anything, because there was nothing I immediately needed, but I noticed I am starting to recognize a lot of the vendors. There was local lamb, grains, and microgreens for sale, as well as organic tomato salsas and baked goods. I also saw locally produced denim and mattress-tops, interesting enough.
I learned that most CSA shares will not be available until June 1st, and that I have until April to decide on one and still get a sizable early-opt-in discount. It will be pricy however: some full season shares cost as much as $800 for produce, and $900 for meat. However, either could easily be split between two people, or even among three. I will do a bit more research on size and quantity, but I think I will choose a CSA that doesn't require a long-term commitment since there are many times I'll be traveling this year for bike racing.
I have also decided that until then, I'll be planning my garden, both outdoor and indoors, and will be making a composter soon. (Thanks to Natalie for the link.)
Finally, Michael Pollan has a new book coming out and was featured in "10 Questions" for the most recent issue of Time.
Sunday I visited the Local Harvest Winter Farmer's Market just around the corner from my Irving Park apartment. I didn't buy anything, because there was nothing I immediately needed, but I noticed I am starting to recognize a lot of the vendors. There was local lamb, grains, and microgreens for sale, as well as organic tomato salsas and baked goods. I also saw locally produced denim and mattress-tops, interesting enough.
I learned that most CSA shares will not be available until June 1st, and that I have until April to decide on one and still get a sizable early-opt-in discount. It will be pricy however: some full season shares cost as much as $800 for produce, and $900 for meat. However, either could easily be split between two people, or even among three. I will do a bit more research on size and quantity, but I think I will choose a CSA that doesn't require a long-term commitment since there are many times I'll be traveling this year for bike racing.
I have also decided that until then, I'll be planning my garden, both outdoor and indoors, and will be making a composter soon. (Thanks to Natalie for the link.)
Finally, Michael Pollan has a new book coming out and was featured in "10 Questions" for the most recent issue of Time.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Not so slow food
What good is organic food if it is still shipped thousands of miles, using four times the amount of fossil fuels saved during its production? Today I explore organic vs. local a bit more deeply.
On Saturday, Patty and I dropped in for a look at the New Leaf Natural Grocery in Rogers Park. A much smaller space than I was expecting, it was an eclectic shop, with kind of a General Store vibe to it. Lots of rustic wood and brick, and I almost expected to see a couple of prospectors standing in the back, the sounds of rusty metal and dry leather as they restlessly shifted on their feet, waiting to purchase supplies before heading back out to their claims.
There was a cooler with several greens in it, including spinach, kale, and zucchini. Next to it was a selection of bulk grains, including granola, beans, and wild rice. Across the store there was more shelf-stable produce, like potatoes and onions. Down from that was another open cooler with apples, pears, and other fruit. Fair trade coffee was brewing, being enjoyed by a young group of four sitting in a booth by the window over some other food I assume they purchased there.
Mostly, however, there were a lot of packaged goods, brands which you'd see at Whole Foods or Trader Joe's, and almost nothing seemed local, at all. Patty's CSA box contained spinach, radishes, kiwi fruit, oranges, green apples, and two bananas. All in all, a fair amount of organic items for $15, but the closest any of it came from was California, and the kiwi was in fact Italian.
Yesterday I felt like taking it quite easy and relaxed. Patty had given me a copy of a magazine called Good, and it was their "Slow" issue. In it was a great recipe - I have no idea why they call it pancakes - but it was delicious regardless (I had bananas instead of plums).
I wanted a "slow food" day, so rather than take Jack for a separate walk and then bike down, we took advantage of the beautiful weather and walked the entire distance from Old Irving down to the Congress Theater, one way just under three miles. Once there I bought some of the grass-fed beef I've been getting, from Black Earth Meats, and thought about some lamb from a new vendor but decided against it, since I was next headed to the Dill Pickle, and didn't know what to expect there.
Now that it's January, it really did hit home how sparse local items are, standing there in the theater amid the market, now a shadow of its full-fledged summer glory. The only greens available were microgreens intended for the windowsill - herbs, bean sprouts and such. One bread vendor; a northside cafe owner who brought a crock of veggie chili; and a knife sharpener was busy with his grinder, also selling eggs.
The new Dill Pickle Co-op, of Logan Square, is now open and providing the neighborhood a much needed oasis in what is an otherwise barren food-desert for anyone shopping on foot. Quite a bit larger than New Leaf, Dill Pickle was less cluttered with the extra space. There was just a bit of green produce in the cooler, but the dry stuff had quite a bit of shelf space. The bulk grains were of impressive variety, as were the amount of canned organic goods. There was a decent selection of meat in the back coolers and freezers, as well as dairy (although the eggs I saw were expired). There was a lot of prepared, packaged items, far more so than I was expecting.
My adventures this weekend were pretty revealing. The primary focus of both grocery stores was organic and I was disappointed by this. Barbara Kingsolver states in her book that four-fifths of the fossil fuels used in agricultural production goes to transportation. The point has been made by several others that organic does not mean sustainable because of the costs and carbon involved in shipping it.
I do realize that it's January, and not much is available locally at all. But that just drives home the question of what would us Chicagoan eat should some catastrophe disrupt the transport of almost all of the food I saw this weekend? Before the internal combustion engine was invented there were people living here, whom I'm pretty sure needed to eat year round. Almost none of the food that is grown here is stored here any more, apparently.
At Dill Pickle I purchased rice and beans plus canned tomatoes that were from California, and potatoes from North Dakota. All at a price that was at least twice (some items were 4x or more) what I would pay for at the Family Fruit Market, a locally owned and operated market much closer to me. And if by paying a premium for organic produce is still going to use four-fifths of the fossil fuels normally incorporated, I can't quite justify the cost, at least not now. I'd rather support a local store and stay within my budget. Or buy what is available locally, but there isn't enough of that to support me, without growing it myself.
While I am disappointed, I'm certainly not discouraged. I'm going through this to learn, and its up to me to make it work to satisfy my ideals. I recognize the importance of stores like New Leaf and Dill Pickle to their respective communities, but for now they represent mostly just an idea. I now know how key a garden will be this summer to at least party reaching my goal; I've started composting and planning for what I will plant even in January.
Up next, investigating my own CSA box, and possibly joining a meat-share (either of these two could be an option).
On Saturday, Patty and I dropped in for a look at the New Leaf Natural Grocery in Rogers Park. A much smaller space than I was expecting, it was an eclectic shop, with kind of a General Store vibe to it. Lots of rustic wood and brick, and I almost expected to see a couple of prospectors standing in the back, the sounds of rusty metal and dry leather as they restlessly shifted on their feet, waiting to purchase supplies before heading back out to their claims.
There was a cooler with several greens in it, including spinach, kale, and zucchini. Next to it was a selection of bulk grains, including granola, beans, and wild rice. Across the store there was more shelf-stable produce, like potatoes and onions. Down from that was another open cooler with apples, pears, and other fruit. Fair trade coffee was brewing, being enjoyed by a young group of four sitting in a booth by the window over some other food I assume they purchased there.
Mostly, however, there were a lot of packaged goods, brands which you'd see at Whole Foods or Trader Joe's, and almost nothing seemed local, at all. Patty's CSA box contained spinach, radishes, kiwi fruit, oranges, green apples, and two bananas. All in all, a fair amount of organic items for $15, but the closest any of it came from was California, and the kiwi was in fact Italian.
Yesterday I felt like taking it quite easy and relaxed. Patty had given me a copy of a magazine called Good, and it was their "Slow" issue. In it was a great recipe - I have no idea why they call it pancakes - but it was delicious regardless (I had bananas instead of plums).
I wanted a "slow food" day, so rather than take Jack for a separate walk and then bike down, we took advantage of the beautiful weather and walked the entire distance from Old Irving down to the Congress Theater, one way just under three miles. Once there I bought some of the grass-fed beef I've been getting, from Black Earth Meats, and thought about some lamb from a new vendor but decided against it, since I was next headed to the Dill Pickle, and didn't know what to expect there.
Now that it's January, it really did hit home how sparse local items are, standing there in the theater amid the market, now a shadow of its full-fledged summer glory. The only greens available were microgreens intended for the windowsill - herbs, bean sprouts and such. One bread vendor; a northside cafe owner who brought a crock of veggie chili; and a knife sharpener was busy with his grinder, also selling eggs.
The new Dill Pickle Co-op, of Logan Square, is now open and providing the neighborhood a much needed oasis in what is an otherwise barren food-desert for anyone shopping on foot. Quite a bit larger than New Leaf, Dill Pickle was less cluttered with the extra space. There was just a bit of green produce in the cooler, but the dry stuff had quite a bit of shelf space. The bulk grains were of impressive variety, as were the amount of canned organic goods. There was a decent selection of meat in the back coolers and freezers, as well as dairy (although the eggs I saw were expired). There was a lot of prepared, packaged items, far more so than I was expecting.
My adventures this weekend were pretty revealing. The primary focus of both grocery stores was organic and I was disappointed by this. Barbara Kingsolver states in her book that four-fifths of the fossil fuels used in agricultural production goes to transportation. The point has been made by several others that organic does not mean sustainable because of the costs and carbon involved in shipping it.
I do realize that it's January, and not much is available locally at all. But that just drives home the question of what would us Chicagoan eat should some catastrophe disrupt the transport of almost all of the food I saw this weekend? Before the internal combustion engine was invented there were people living here, whom I'm pretty sure needed to eat year round. Almost none of the food that is grown here is stored here any more, apparently.
At Dill Pickle I purchased rice and beans plus canned tomatoes that were from California, and potatoes from North Dakota. All at a price that was at least twice (some items were 4x or more) what I would pay for at the Family Fruit Market, a locally owned and operated market much closer to me. And if by paying a premium for organic produce is still going to use four-fifths of the fossil fuels normally incorporated, I can't quite justify the cost, at least not now. I'd rather support a local store and stay within my budget. Or buy what is available locally, but there isn't enough of that to support me, without growing it myself.
While I am disappointed, I'm certainly not discouraged. I'm going through this to learn, and its up to me to make it work to satisfy my ideals. I recognize the importance of stores like New Leaf and Dill Pickle to their respective communities, but for now they represent mostly just an idea. I now know how key a garden will be this summer to at least party reaching my goal; I've started composting and planning for what I will plant even in January.
Up next, investigating my own CSA box, and possibly joining a meat-share (either of these two could be an option).
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
The reality of local in the modern world
I want to clarify a few things, as well as list some notable exceptions for my local, seasonal, and sustainable eating project to be documented here at “Big city. Little plate.” After all, I am not Barbara Kingsolver, just a regular Joe who has a fulltime job and already one fulltime obsession. There is going to be a learning curve due to my relatively limited means.
First, please notice that buying “organic” will not be a priority, or necessarily a criteria of this effort. This is basically because A may = B, but B may not = A. The organics business is a large one, as evidenced by the success of Whole Foods, but most of the organics there are anything but local and sustainable. However, it is my hypothesis that most sustainably and locally produced (and therefore distributed) food will be organic by nature. I hope this to be one of the learnings I disseminate here - whether organic is a likely byproduct of locally and sustainably produced food.
Some exceptions:
Eating out. I have friends. We do stuff together. Let's be realistic here.
Clif Bars. I am a competitive cyclist, who rides/trains/races around 150 to as many as 300 (even 400 plus on occasion) miles a week. That means a pretty massive caloric intake with much of that extra food eaten on the bike. One of the major sponsors of my team is Clif Bar. I happen to think this a wonderful company that makes a great product, and I really don’t have time to make ride-compatible food (although I will attempt this on occasion for your amusement) that is needed almost daily. So while Clif is not locally produced, it is done so a lot more sustainably than the other options available, so I will continue to buy and eat it.
Bananas. In The Omnivore’s Dilemma, Michael Pollan refers to “foodshedding.” Basically this refers to food that otherwise would be completely unavailable in a given area. For thousands of years, items such as chocolate, wine, and coffee have been traded for other goods when they are mutually unavailable in those respective areas. I really love bananas, and I would probably die without them, or at least suffer really bad cramps on the bike for lack of potassium, and I’d rather not drink Gatorade.
Speaking of foodshedding, I will also not be giving up on coffee nor wine nor Old Style, or any beer for that matter. Lucky me. Goose Island also happens to sponsor my team, so drinking local beer will be a win-win for everyone. I realize even that is not locally sourced, but I have to start somewhere, and again, let's be realistic. But I may homebrew once or twice, for your amusement.
As well, I hope get a storage and canning experience out of this project. As I typically go through two large cans of tomatoes a week for chili or pasta sauce, I don't think I will be able to completely eliminate this staple from my diet all at once. Too much physical and financial distress would come with just not eating them at all or buying them locally canned out of season. But a garden is in the works for this spring and I definitely hope to can some produce - both my own and that which I purchased. Again, this is going to be a learning experience.
As such, I have no idea where I will find locally produced grain. I have a wheat intolerance and eat a lot of rice and rice pasta. Hopefully this question will be answered in one of my initial trips to the co-op, but I anticipate the need to purchase conventionally grown and distributed rice or other grains. This will for now go under my foodshedding caveat, along with sugar, baking additives, and other such single-ingredient packaged food items. But it would be a huge victory to find a local source.
Thanks for your comments and for following. I look forward to having all of you along for the ride.
First, please notice that buying “organic” will not be a priority, or necessarily a criteria of this effort. This is basically because A may = B, but B may not = A. The organics business is a large one, as evidenced by the success of Whole Foods, but most of the organics there are anything but local and sustainable. However, it is my hypothesis that most sustainably and locally produced (and therefore distributed) food will be organic by nature. I hope this to be one of the learnings I disseminate here - whether organic is a likely byproduct of locally and sustainably produced food.
Some exceptions:
Eating out. I have friends. We do stuff together. Let's be realistic here.
Clif Bars. I am a competitive cyclist, who rides/trains/races around 150 to as many as 300 (even 400 plus on occasion) miles a week. That means a pretty massive caloric intake with much of that extra food eaten on the bike. One of the major sponsors of my team is Clif Bar. I happen to think this a wonderful company that makes a great product, and I really don’t have time to make ride-compatible food (although I will attempt this on occasion for your amusement) that is needed almost daily. So while Clif is not locally produced, it is done so a lot more sustainably than the other options available, so I will continue to buy and eat it.
Bananas. In The Omnivore’s Dilemma, Michael Pollan refers to “foodshedding.” Basically this refers to food that otherwise would be completely unavailable in a given area. For thousands of years, items such as chocolate, wine, and coffee have been traded for other goods when they are mutually unavailable in those respective areas. I really love bananas, and I would probably die without them, or at least suffer really bad cramps on the bike for lack of potassium, and I’d rather not drink Gatorade.
Speaking of foodshedding, I will also not be giving up on coffee nor wine nor Old Style, or any beer for that matter. Lucky me. Goose Island also happens to sponsor my team, so drinking local beer will be a win-win for everyone. I realize even that is not locally sourced, but I have to start somewhere, and again, let's be realistic. But I may homebrew once or twice, for your amusement.
As well, I hope get a storage and canning experience out of this project. As I typically go through two large cans of tomatoes a week for chili or pasta sauce, I don't think I will be able to completely eliminate this staple from my diet all at once. Too much physical and financial distress would come with just not eating them at all or buying them locally canned out of season. But a garden is in the works for this spring and I definitely hope to can some produce - both my own and that which I purchased. Again, this is going to be a learning experience.
As such, I have no idea where I will find locally produced grain. I have a wheat intolerance and eat a lot of rice and rice pasta. Hopefully this question will be answered in one of my initial trips to the co-op, but I anticipate the need to purchase conventionally grown and distributed rice or other grains. This will for now go under my foodshedding caveat, along with sugar, baking additives, and other such single-ingredient packaged food items. But it would be a huge victory to find a local source.
Thanks for your comments and for following. I look forward to having all of you along for the ride.
Monday, January 11, 2010
On a mission
I told you I was going crazy.
This new blog is the next step in a long, hopefully life-long, journey to a more wholesome me. When I say "wholesome" it brings to mind images of Normal Rockwell paintings, my mom's rhubarb pie, hot afternoons on my dad's old horse farm, or picturesque fields in which grow a bounty of nature's produce - kissed with dew and framed by misty mountains, a rustic fence, and a windmill, such as you'd see on a package of pre-washed lettuce or a carton of 79 cent eggs.
I want to emphasize the root word here, whole.
As in, "whole food."
Not "Whole Foods." There is a much larger difference between the above and a box of locally, ethically produced and distributed bag of lettuce or carton of eggs than the price points of Jewel and the popular organics juggernaut. The people who know and reject what goes into producing a dozen eggs that retail for less than a dollar don't realize that much hasn't changed with the $4.59 option.
This is not a reaction against that fine establishment - I hardly shop there - but halfway through Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma I had decided enough was enough. I'd decided that, knowing all that I know since first reading Fast Food Nation in 2001, to continue partaking in a system that I know is wrong is to be nothing less than a sociopath.
This year I will attempt to live on locally produced food as much as possible, here in the great city of Chicago, and document it here in this space. I know this will be harder than it seems. For I live in a large American city where convenience is everything, and none of my neighbors are farmers. How can I do this practically, within my existing budget, staying carless and true to my 20 minute neighborhood ideal?
I had long ago banished the frozen meals, the packaged pasta dishes, canned soup, or low-fat this and low-salt that. In doing so I shed over 70 pounds and ushered in what has so far been the golden age of my life. That was the easy part. Most of it is nothing but corn anyways. The end product from the tap of a torrent of government-subsidized, genetically modified corn. Never trust a corporation to feed you.
However, our beef, chicken, pork - and even our fish! -are forced to feed against their nature from the same river of cheap calories, forced into a life that not even under the most liberal of interpretations would be considered humane.
Cows are meant to eat grass. Feeding them corn causes them to get sick. So does keeping them packed together in conditions that are worse than a concentration camp. So does forcing them to wallow around in their own shit for the final weeks of their lives. Hormones and antibiotics are necessary in order to profitably raise them this way.
Chickens have it just as bad. Never allowed to so much as walk in most conventional operations and bred for their meat, their breasts grow so large they can't even stand up. Pigs - just as smart an animal as your pet dog - are treated the same, too. And fish - our prized salmon, carnivorous animals that get their pink flesh from their diet of ocean krill and shrimp - are now being bred to eat much cheaper corn in farming pens, while their pasty white meat is dyed their natural color in one of the supermarket's biggest lies.
But the worst of it is, with all that corn and those unnatural living conditions, you'd be better off eating cardboard. Mr. Pollan is able to explain this much better than I can in his seminal essay, "Unhappy Meals" but, in summary, the nutritional result of all this engineering to grow our food for greater and greater profits is not at all to our own benefit.
So in a moment of clarity, I found the inspiration to begin the project that will be documented in this blog. His words are so often quoted, hollow and empty most of the time, but in that instant they intoned with absolute truth:
"Be the change that you want to see in the world."
What Mahatma Gandhi meant was that we have change ourselves, not the world.
So in addition to creating this blog in an attempt to influence each of you, I will back up my words with action.
As I said, I have already gone a couple years since last buying a prepackaged meal. I haven't bought supermarket meat in a few months as well, instead choosing to buy what little meat I do now eat at the Logan Square farmer's market from a producer called Black Earth Farms. Free range eggs have been occupying space in my fridge as well as organic yogurt and tofu.
While I was moved beyond words by the plight of the industrially produced cow or pig, I still reject the vegan's utopia. Domesticated animals do not exist by man's hand alone. Those animals - cows, pigs, chickens, dogs, horses, I could go on - found that their own survival was perpetuated by a symbiotic relationship with humans, and so, in effect, "chose" to become domesticated as much as we chose to base our society around them.
As Mr. Pollan so eloquently demonstrated with the Polyface Farm in Dilemma, ending up as a food source for humans is a pretty fair trade for being allowed to live your life as nature intended, grazing on dewy grass as a cow, scratching your back satisfyingly against the rough bark of a pine tree as a pig, or digging for grubs in dried up manure as a chicken.
This naturally produced food does cost more... or does it? We indeed pay more up front and in the open, rather than farther down the line for conventional food, and the hidden costs of its agricultural pollution, massive carbon footprint, and health ramifications associated with poor nutrition blown out on a national scale now approaching a national emergency.
"Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants," Pollan tells us in Unhappy Meals. Eat less of better food.
And so I will. For knowing what I now know, doing anything less would be unconscionable.
Coming up:
I'll detail my practical approach to this effort and set down a few rules and exceptions for myself.
I will review of two new co-op grocery stores, New Leaf Natural Grocery of Roger's Park and The Dill Pickle in Logan Square, along with the now-indoors for the winter Logan Square Farmer's Market, and detail my search for a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) membership.
Over the course of the coming months, the main focus of this blog will be on the practicality (or impracticality, is it may turn out) of living locally, seasonably, and sustainably, whatever that means.
And I aim to find out.
This new blog is the next step in a long, hopefully life-long, journey to a more wholesome me. When I say "wholesome" it brings to mind images of Normal Rockwell paintings, my mom's rhubarb pie, hot afternoons on my dad's old horse farm, or picturesque fields in which grow a bounty of nature's produce - kissed with dew and framed by misty mountains, a rustic fence, and a windmill, such as you'd see on a package of pre-washed lettuce or a carton of 79 cent eggs.
I want to emphasize the root word here, whole.
As in, "whole food."
Not "Whole Foods." There is a much larger difference between the above and a box of locally, ethically produced and distributed bag of lettuce or carton of eggs than the price points of Jewel and the popular organics juggernaut. The people who know and reject what goes into producing a dozen eggs that retail for less than a dollar don't realize that much hasn't changed with the $4.59 option.
This is not a reaction against that fine establishment - I hardly shop there - but halfway through Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma I had decided enough was enough. I'd decided that, knowing all that I know since first reading Fast Food Nation in 2001, to continue partaking in a system that I know is wrong is to be nothing less than a sociopath.
This year I will attempt to live on locally produced food as much as possible, here in the great city of Chicago, and document it here in this space. I know this will be harder than it seems. For I live in a large American city where convenience is everything, and none of my neighbors are farmers. How can I do this practically, within my existing budget, staying carless and true to my 20 minute neighborhood ideal?
I had long ago banished the frozen meals, the packaged pasta dishes, canned soup, or low-fat this and low-salt that. In doing so I shed over 70 pounds and ushered in what has so far been the golden age of my life. That was the easy part. Most of it is nothing but corn anyways. The end product from the tap of a torrent of government-subsidized, genetically modified corn. Never trust a corporation to feed you.
However, our beef, chicken, pork - and even our fish! -are forced to feed against their nature from the same river of cheap calories, forced into a life that not even under the most liberal of interpretations would be considered humane.
Cows are meant to eat grass. Feeding them corn causes them to get sick. So does keeping them packed together in conditions that are worse than a concentration camp. So does forcing them to wallow around in their own shit for the final weeks of their lives. Hormones and antibiotics are necessary in order to profitably raise them this way.
Chickens have it just as bad. Never allowed to so much as walk in most conventional operations and bred for their meat, their breasts grow so large they can't even stand up. Pigs - just as smart an animal as your pet dog - are treated the same, too. And fish - our prized salmon, carnivorous animals that get their pink flesh from their diet of ocean krill and shrimp - are now being bred to eat much cheaper corn in farming pens, while their pasty white meat is dyed their natural color in one of the supermarket's biggest lies.
But the worst of it is, with all that corn and those unnatural living conditions, you'd be better off eating cardboard. Mr. Pollan is able to explain this much better than I can in his seminal essay, "Unhappy Meals" but, in summary, the nutritional result of all this engineering to grow our food for greater and greater profits is not at all to our own benefit.
So in a moment of clarity, I found the inspiration to begin the project that will be documented in this blog. His words are so often quoted, hollow and empty most of the time, but in that instant they intoned with absolute truth:
"Be the change that you want to see in the world."
What Mahatma Gandhi meant was that we have change ourselves, not the world.
So in addition to creating this blog in an attempt to influence each of you, I will back up my words with action.
As I said, I have already gone a couple years since last buying a prepackaged meal. I haven't bought supermarket meat in a few months as well, instead choosing to buy what little meat I do now eat at the Logan Square farmer's market from a producer called Black Earth Farms. Free range eggs have been occupying space in my fridge as well as organic yogurt and tofu.
While I was moved beyond words by the plight of the industrially produced cow or pig, I still reject the vegan's utopia. Domesticated animals do not exist by man's hand alone. Those animals - cows, pigs, chickens, dogs, horses, I could go on - found that their own survival was perpetuated by a symbiotic relationship with humans, and so, in effect, "chose" to become domesticated as much as we chose to base our society around them.
As Mr. Pollan so eloquently demonstrated with the Polyface Farm in Dilemma, ending up as a food source for humans is a pretty fair trade for being allowed to live your life as nature intended, grazing on dewy grass as a cow, scratching your back satisfyingly against the rough bark of a pine tree as a pig, or digging for grubs in dried up manure as a chicken.
This naturally produced food does cost more... or does it? We indeed pay more up front and in the open, rather than farther down the line for conventional food, and the hidden costs of its agricultural pollution, massive carbon footprint, and health ramifications associated with poor nutrition blown out on a national scale now approaching a national emergency.
"Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants," Pollan tells us in Unhappy Meals. Eat less of better food.
And so I will. For knowing what I now know, doing anything less would be unconscionable.
Coming up:
I'll detail my practical approach to this effort and set down a few rules and exceptions for myself.
I will review of two new co-op grocery stores, New Leaf Natural Grocery of Roger's Park and The Dill Pickle in Logan Square, along with the now-indoors for the winter Logan Square Farmer's Market, and detail my search for a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) membership.
Over the course of the coming months, the main focus of this blog will be on the practicality (or impracticality, is it may turn out) of living locally, seasonably, and sustainably, whatever that means.
And I aim to find out.
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