From Naturally Local: Life of a Foodie, Farmer, Free-Spirit and Activist |
I had a post circulating in my head for two months about World Food Day (October 16th), but two weeks of visitors and a teething 7-month old baby has left my brain better for snippets. Do you ever have days, or perhaps entire weeks like that? You can read about some of the current (tip of the iceberg) issues on Food First's website.
Regarding Pigs
A call from Lucinda one evening, softly telling me on the phone that my pigs were on their way sparked my imagination. I saw darkness, heard the hushed whispers, the soft snorting and treading of pigs...of course, they weren't all my pigs, but as a meat-eater, I felt responsible for honoring all of them. I choose Barbara Kingsolver's term "harvest" when referring to the collection of animals for food. Someone told me that it was disrespectful to compare the sacrifice of animal creatures to eating salad. I disagree, as I have the same level of reverence for any vegetation I consume. That comes from gardening (sometimes fruitlessly!) and the knowledge that we share 40% of our DNA with lettuce, amongst other vegetables. 40%--how can you take a salad lightly after knowing that?
CFAF virus
The other day, I felt really tired. I wanted to eat strawberries. In November. In Missouri...right. And fresh peaches. And blueberries. I am quite sure that I caught the CFAF virus: craving far-away food virus. That is Far as in Distance and Far as in Spring-won't-be-here-for-several-months Far. "Blast this local food organic thing!" I shook my fist at the sky--or rather, my cracked ceiling--blast blast blast! And then I remember how fattening imported and non-organic food is--really, it has more calories! The energy to develop pesticides and fertilizers, create GMOs, ship produce from far off places like California, Ecuador, Hawaii and even South Africa--those strawberries probably have at least 5,000 calories each, if not more. Can you assign a caloric value to the infringement of human rights? I'm thinking the use of illegal immigrants and all its trappings. Methyl Bromide. Fruit bred to look more beautiful than it tastes (this is a reoccurring theme in food, as well as popular culture, no?) I see the face of a worker made ill because of chemicals use in this particular agriculture. I see the chemicals wash into the watershed, past homes with children playing in yards. Into the streams, rivers, aquifers and oceans. Ah, no thank you. I'll just wait. My impatience is gone. I'm cured!
In Season
Brussels sprouts were instant love for me. Or so I thought. I am a massive greens eater. If there are massive amounts of greens around, well...you get the picture. Have you ever had a chat with someone and found something somewhat familiar and thought you knew everything thing about it, come to find you were totally off? It's very human, and how we make connections, and why we have the ability (if we choose) to say, "Oh, I was soooo wrong about THAT! Excuse me! I thought I knew." Well, that is what I did to Mr. B. Sprouts.
I thought I knew Brussels Sprouts. What's not to recognize? They look like tiny cabbages--how hard can they be to cook? Not hard at all, provided that you don't treat them like a cabbage. That thing with apples and vinegar--not so good with brussels sprouts. Asian stir-fry? Possible, but not optimal. Now, a simple treatment where they are sliced in half and drizzled with oil and a sprinkling of salt and pepper...roasted for 25-35 minutes or until as tender as you like (I tend towards less rather than more time).
If you enjoy greens, these are better than french fries. Really!
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