(Not So) Local
Sunday morning. Sunny, warm, beautiful outside and yet here I sit at the vintage Formica table in my apartment sipping home-brewed coffee (roughly 2/3 Cafe Bustello and 1/3 French roast decaf) and feeling guilty about...
Well, let's see, allow me to count the many ways. I am, after all, a self-excommunicated Catholic. It is so cliche, I know, but there is some truth to it. Anyone who suffered the teachings of pre-Vatican nuns should be familiar with the ill effects of, what I like to refer to as, remorse indoctrination.
There are many things this week for which I feel a bit of guilt... not exercising, eating to much cheese, failing to consume all of the perishables in my refrigerator in due time yet again. Oh, and in particular, the non-local origins of the peach, granola and yogurt I just ate for breakfast.
(By the way, I also happened to be listening to WNYC, which is New York's public radio, and for this I do not feel guilty. I finally became a pledging member this year! It was better than confession for relief of listener's remorse.)
If my conscience's struggle with indigestion is perplexing, you probably have some homework to do about the importance of supporting local farmers. But don't feel guilty! This, too, can be the result of childhood experiences. I like to think of it as grocery-store indoctrination.
Let's take a moment, shall we, to dissect my far-flung breakfast and understand why it was such a grievous and unnecessary offense:
The peach
This particular peach came from California, 3,000 miles away from my hometown of New York City. I bought this peach at one of the many fruit and vegetable markets in Astoria where I live. Occasionally, they have some local produce, and they did in fact have peaches from New Jersey.
Ironically, the peaches from New Jersey looked beat up as though they were the ones that had traveled thousands of miles. I would have been willing to forgive this if they had smelled even remotely like peaches. In case you are not in the know, smell is the best measurement for determining how ready a peach is for the eating. Don't squeeze the peaches! They are too delicate for manhandling!
It's midsummer, so surely, if I had looked at the farmer's market in Union Square five minutes away from my office I would have found beautiful, ready-to-eat peaches with a fresher flavor.
The Granola
The granola in my cereal bowl was Udi's vanilla and almond from Denver Colorado, almost 2,000 miles from my kitchen. Simple ingredients, not too much sugar or fat, tasty... just the way I like my food.
Hawthorne Valley Farm, however, in Ghent, New York, which is roughly 120 miles away, sells delicious granola by the pound at a comparable price at the farmer's market. They also have a variety of tasty baked goods, vegetables and cheese. I highly recommend the multi-grain baguette with flax seed and the ginger scone.
The Yogurt
A little web research has just revealed that I may find some redemption in my choice of yogurt, which was Fage Total Greek yogurt. Fage opened a production facility in the U.S. in 2005 which is only 200 miles from New York City. I was relieved to read this because I am a little obsessed with their "ridiculously thick yogurt," which was previously imported from Greece.
There are, however, yogurt producers still closer to home such as Ronnybrook Farms, only 100 miles from the City. Ronnybrook is a farm and creamery in one, and they produce a variety of dairy products, including an unbeatable drinkable yogurt. They also encourage their customers to bring their glass milk bottles back for re-use.
Here I might have to strike a balance between Fage's thick Greek-style yogurt and the wonderful drinkable yogurt from Ronnybrook.
My original goal for this past week had been to visit the farmer's market in Union Square on Friday during lunchtime to pick up fresh greens, fruit, yogurt, granola etc. Alas, work was busy so lunchtime was out, which was for the best because I went out after work and my vegetables would have wilted while I sat at the bar in Terroir with CME, eating too much cheese, drinking way too much wine and having a nice chat with the very cute bartender (why are they all so good looking?!). Details coming soon, both about Terroir and about drinking bourbon in Illinois.
Tomorrow is another week and another day at the farmer's market! Stay tuned. And eat local!
Sunday morning. Sunny, warm, beautiful outside and yet here I sit at the vintage Formica table in my apartment sipping home-brewed coffee (roughly 2/3 Cafe Bustello and 1/3 French roast decaf) and feeling guilty about...
Well, let's see, allow me to count the many ways. I am, after all, a self-excommunicated Catholic. It is so cliche, I know, but there is some truth to it. Anyone who suffered the teachings of pre-Vatican nuns should be familiar with the ill effects of, what I like to refer to as, remorse indoctrination.
There are many things this week for which I feel a bit of guilt... not exercising, eating to much cheese, failing to consume all of the perishables in my refrigerator in due time yet again. Oh, and in particular, the non-local origins of the peach, granola and yogurt I just ate for breakfast.
(By the way, I also happened to be listening to WNYC, which is New York's public radio, and for this I do not feel guilty. I finally became a pledging member this year! It was better than confession for relief of listener's remorse.)
If my conscience's struggle with indigestion is perplexing, you probably have some homework to do about the importance of supporting local farmers. But don't feel guilty! This, too, can be the result of childhood experiences. I like to think of it as grocery-store indoctrination.
Let's take a moment, shall we, to dissect my far-flung breakfast and understand why it was such a grievous and unnecessary offense:
The peach
This particular peach came from California, 3,000 miles away from my hometown of New York City. I bought this peach at one of the many fruit and vegetable markets in Astoria where I live. Occasionally, they have some local produce, and they did in fact have peaches from New Jersey.
Ironically, the peaches from New Jersey looked beat up as though they were the ones that had traveled thousands of miles. I would have been willing to forgive this if they had smelled even remotely like peaches. In case you are not in the know, smell is the best measurement for determining how ready a peach is for the eating. Don't squeeze the peaches! They are too delicate for manhandling!
It's midsummer, so surely, if I had looked at the farmer's market in Union Square five minutes away from my office I would have found beautiful, ready-to-eat peaches with a fresher flavor.
The Granola
The granola in my cereal bowl was Udi's vanilla and almond from Denver Colorado, almost 2,000 miles from my kitchen. Simple ingredients, not too much sugar or fat, tasty... just the way I like my food.
Hawthorne Valley Farm, however, in Ghent, New York, which is roughly 120 miles away, sells delicious granola by the pound at a comparable price at the farmer's market. They also have a variety of tasty baked goods, vegetables and cheese. I highly recommend the multi-grain baguette with flax seed and the ginger scone.
The Yogurt
A little web research has just revealed that I may find some redemption in my choice of yogurt, which was Fage Total Greek yogurt. Fage opened a production facility in the U.S. in 2005 which is only 200 miles from New York City. I was relieved to read this because I am a little obsessed with their "ridiculously thick yogurt," which was previously imported from Greece.
There are, however, yogurt producers still closer to home such as Ronnybrook Farms, only 100 miles from the City. Ronnybrook is a farm and creamery in one, and they produce a variety of dairy products, including an unbeatable drinkable yogurt. They also encourage their customers to bring their glass milk bottles back for re-use.
Here I might have to strike a balance between Fage's thick Greek-style yogurt and the wonderful drinkable yogurt from Ronnybrook.
My original goal for this past week had been to visit the farmer's market in Union Square on Friday during lunchtime to pick up fresh greens, fruit, yogurt, granola etc. Alas, work was busy so lunchtime was out, which was for the best because I went out after work and my vegetables would have wilted while I sat at the bar in Terroir with CME, eating too much cheese, drinking way too much wine and having a nice chat with the very cute bartender (why are they all so good looking?!). Details coming soon, both about Terroir and about drinking bourbon in Illinois.
Tomorrow is another week and another day at the farmer's market! Stay tuned. And eat local!
Thanks for this great post! Have you seen Food, Inc? That is Jersey Pie's inspiration for writing about local and organic food in our next post. Sounds like everything else is owned by Monsanto and Monsanto is infiltrated into the government. Sounds like I've whacked all the way out, right? It's a great documentary.
ReplyDeleteI haven't seen it yet, but plan to soon! So, I'll probably be whacked out soon too!
ReplyDeleteAhh, catholic guilt, but if there is anything to feel guilty about these are valid reasons. It's amazing how accustomed we have become to eating food from so far away, but the gas and water it costs our planet to get it here isn't worth it. Now in CA, I have no excuse- there is so much locally produced...Luckily I have a great farmer's market across the street! Yes, Jennifer is right- everything is owned by Monsanto which I believe is going to destroy the Earth with their terminator hybrid seeds and pesticide producing seeds. I have to see Food Inc. Great blog!!! ~v
ReplyDelete