Eating Integrity
by Kelly Kingsland, Moscow Food Co-op newsletter volunteer
The other day while I was pushing my gas powered lawn mower around (and around) my large lawn I contemplated my local diet. In light of the blaring noise, and puff of smoke emitting from the mower, my actions seem pretty futile. Especially for someone like me who eats something like an 80 percent local diet year round, the net gain in reduced imports is fairly insignificant.
So as I continued circling my machine towards my ultimate goal- a strangely satisfying shortly mown expanse that I consider my yard, I asked myself why I had taken the Local Challenge. Was it hope? Did I think I could change the world through my actions? Was it sacrifice? Was I giving up eating imported foods as some sort of offering- paying for my own or others' carbon spewing transgressions? Was I just following a national fad- locavorism is reaching a fever pitch in some circles across the country. What was motivating me anyway?
I ruled out hope right away. I am a pessimist, and through that lens think that with our current global population and consumptive addictions, pure inertia ought to easily propel us deeply and irreversibly into climate crisis- seemingly during my lifetime if you listen to some scientists. In a non biblical way, I actually believe that we are approaching the “end times” and certainly I don't see my local diet as any method of changing that course.
What about sacrifice? Am I giving up things that I love to eat in order to somehow justify my periodic airplane flights to see family, or my more frequent drives to wilderness to backpack? Am I running some internal form of carbon trade, exchanging this summer’s resisted chocolate bars for next winter’s flight to see family in Florida? I do have a deep desire to walk lightly on this planet. And I carry a bit of guilt at being American-a member of a great consuming culture that will go down in history (if there is history) as the most destructive ever. But I'm not a martyr and don't think I can right the world by forfeiting pleasure.
What about fad? Am I just doing this because everyone else is? Generally I am not very faddish, but a fad that is about NOT buying something does have its appeal. But no, while it does feel good to share convictions with the likes of Barbra Kingsolver, Gary Paul Nabhan and Michael Pollan, I have been on this kick for many years, and have come to my own conclusions about what side of the fence I want to stand on.
Having ruled out hope, sacrifice and fad, I realized that I am eating a local diet because it feels good. In addition to feeling really great physically when I quit eating sugar, chips, chocolate, and dairy products, the local diet fills me with a sense of integrity. Not righteousness, integrity. It feels good to step away from the constant and dire implications of our consumptive habits. Rather than approaching meals with a sense of guilt and acquiescence I see mindful action at work. As I fill my body with vegetables, meat and fruit that have been produced locally I feel as if I am not only nourishing my body, but also my relationship to the earth and other living beings that live here with me. Whether it reduces my carbon footprint, or buys me a trip to the wilderness or not, I like eating integrity.
One of Kelly Kingsland's current favorite local meals is steamed Artichokes with garlic aioli, Pickle Flat Farm grass fed beef burger with homemade catsup, and braised cabbage and beets. We're not missing much at all.
Thursday 16 July 2009
Hooray for Local Milk
Hooray For Local Milk!
By Peg Kingery, Chill and Frozen Buyer, Moscow Food Co-op
Summer is a good time for road trips. What better excuse to hit the highway than to visit a small, family-owned dairy whose milk I yearn to make available to the Co-op’s customers? So with Co-op store manager Steve Kobs riding shot gun and my furry companion Toby wagging in the backseat (because he likes adventures too) we headed north to Spokane to check out the operations at Spokane Family Farms.
I’d read about Spokane Family Farms in two local newspapers and was both excited and skeptical. I love supporting local businesses, but am REAL picky about quality. This dairy is not organic, so I had to see for myself if they were at least following organic, humane and sustainable practices. I’m also quite fond of cows and was hoping to see animal care that rivaled . . . well, the care I give to Toby.
I was totally impressed.
Mike and Trish Vieira began their 30-cow milking operation in April of this year. Mike previously worked as a dairyman near Othello, Washington. He grew tired of seeing his high quality milk being dumped in the same tank with milk from other dairies and sought a market that would support an “old fashioned” dairy that produced and bottled its own milk. Lucky for us he chose the Spokane area.
Along the way we picked up Jennifer Hall, a key player in Spokane’s soon-to-open Main Market Co-op, who kindly arranged the visit for us. We arrived just as Mike was putting hay in the cows’ feeding bunk. I admit to being concerned when I saw the cows were on dry lot, not pasture. Mike explained that he’d hoped to have the cows on the pasture he planted to oats by now, but lack of rain had prevented the crop from maturing quickly enough. All his feed comes from local, no spray producers in the Spokane area. He plans to plant one of his other pastures to grass and legumes this fall.
While Mike prepared to milk the cows, Trish gave us a tour of the facilities and answered our questions. The milking/bottling barn was spotless. Within the barn there is also a lab where the Vieiras quality test and formulate the cows’ diets and monitor bacteria counts in the milk (which is always way lower than average). They bottle the milk every other day after pasteurizing it at 145o for 30 minutes. Their milk is not homogenized, meaning the cream rises to the top of the jug.
The Vieiras DO care for their cows with the same concern I have for Toby. They all have names (even nicknames!), receive grain mixtures according to their individual needs and those needing extra TLC got plenty of it. They range in age from 2 to 8 years and average 80-100 lbs of milk per day per cow (which works out to about 9 gallons of milk per cow per day).
At the time of our visit the Vieiras were finalizing arrangements to have Spokane Produce deliver their milk to the 18 stores they provide milk to in the Spokane area. That’s good news for our Co-op because Spokane Produce brings us veggies and fruit twice a week. Idaho regulations differ a bit from Washington regulations and the Vieiras were in the process of doing what they needed to to comply with them. So here’s the good news – now that I’ve seen the operation, we’ll be stocking Spokane Family Farms milk as soon as we are able to!
By Peg Kingery, Chill and Frozen Buyer, Moscow Food Co-op
Summer is a good time for road trips. What better excuse to hit the highway than to visit a small, family-owned dairy whose milk I yearn to make available to the Co-op’s customers? So with Co-op store manager Steve Kobs riding shot gun and my furry companion Toby wagging in the backseat (because he likes adventures too) we headed north to Spokane to check out the operations at Spokane Family Farms.
I’d read about Spokane Family Farms in two local newspapers and was both excited and skeptical. I love supporting local businesses, but am REAL picky about quality. This dairy is not organic, so I had to see for myself if they were at least following organic, humane and sustainable practices. I’m also quite fond of cows and was hoping to see animal care that rivaled . . . well, the care I give to Toby.
I was totally impressed.
Mike and Trish Vieira began their 30-cow milking operation in April of this year. Mike previously worked as a dairyman near Othello, Washington. He grew tired of seeing his high quality milk being dumped in the same tank with milk from other dairies and sought a market that would support an “old fashioned” dairy that produced and bottled its own milk. Lucky for us he chose the Spokane area.
Along the way we picked up Jennifer Hall, a key player in Spokane’s soon-to-open Main Market Co-op, who kindly arranged the visit for us. We arrived just as Mike was putting hay in the cows’ feeding bunk. I admit to being concerned when I saw the cows were on dry lot, not pasture. Mike explained that he’d hoped to have the cows on the pasture he planted to oats by now, but lack of rain had prevented the crop from maturing quickly enough. All his feed comes from local, no spray producers in the Spokane area. He plans to plant one of his other pastures to grass and legumes this fall.
While Mike prepared to milk the cows, Trish gave us a tour of the facilities and answered our questions. The milking/bottling barn was spotless. Within the barn there is also a lab where the Vieiras quality test and formulate the cows’ diets and monitor bacteria counts in the milk (which is always way lower than average). They bottle the milk every other day after pasteurizing it at 145o for 30 minutes. Their milk is not homogenized, meaning the cream rises to the top of the jug.
The Vieiras DO care for their cows with the same concern I have for Toby. They all have names (even nicknames!), receive grain mixtures according to their individual needs and those needing extra TLC got plenty of it. They range in age from 2 to 8 years and average 80-100 lbs of milk per day per cow (which works out to about 9 gallons of milk per cow per day).
At the time of our visit the Vieiras were finalizing arrangements to have Spokane Produce deliver their milk to the 18 stores they provide milk to in the Spokane area. That’s good news for our Co-op because Spokane Produce brings us veggies and fruit twice a week. Idaho regulations differ a bit from Washington regulations and the Vieiras were in the process of doing what they needed to to comply with them. So here’s the good news – now that I’ve seen the operation, we’ll be stocking Spokane Family Farms milk as soon as we are able to!
Friday 10 July 2009
Poultry Love - Is It Wrong?
That's my son with one of our new chicks a few weeks ago. Local farmers, the Zakarisons, sold us some chicks that will become laying hens when they grow up. For us it was a momentous occasion, like birthing a baby, as it took about nine months to get the coop and fence ready (we started in the fall and halted construction during the winter), and their arrival was preceded by the mulling over of names, the gathering of equipment and bedding, lots of reading about care and feeding. The whole thing was very similar to pregnancy, without the sleeplessness and weird food cravings.
Except these babies put themselves to bed at night, eat almost whatever we throw out there for them, and are a little skittish about being held very much. I adore them, and find myself spending time cutting up our kitchen waste into tiny chicken beak sized pieces and then watching to see what they love and what they don’t love. So far the absolute favorites are the pie cherries from our neighbors’ tree, onion skins, and the prostrate knotweed that grows everywhere in our yard. They also love bread, bits of fruit, grass, slugs and bugs, and a shovelful of almost finished compost to scratch through.
Our girls are about half grown, little Nellie, Dorothy, Mabel, Cinnamon, Margaret, and Leonora. Two barred Plymouth Rocks, two Rhode Island reds, one speckled Sussex, and one blue Andalusian. The barred rocks and the blue Andalusian are downright friendly; the others a little more standoffish. But we’re making progress, and there’s nothing I like better than to sit down and have a little chicken time in the evening to relax after a hard day.
Eventually our girls will give us eggs; you’ll read about it here first!
Sunday 5 July 2009
Fruit crisps to remember
Fruit crisps used to seem painful – all that topping to mix up – but now that I know that a recipe is not required, fruit crisps are my favorite dessert to make.
Topping: a couple cups of rolled oats, a stick of butter, a generous measure of brown sugar, a few teaspoons of cinnamon, and a handful of flour. Mix it up with your hands until the butter is broken down into little pebbles and rubbed into the oats. Add some chopped nuts if you like them. Try something besides cinnamon if you prefer. Maybe cardamom or allspice. I made a cherry crisp this morning that used almonds in the topping and a bit of almond extract mixed with the fruit. Delicious.
Fruit: Grease your baking dish and fill with sliced fruit. Apples, apricots, peaches, pitted cherries, diced rhubarb and strawberries, whatever. Sprinkle sugar on the fruit, more if it’s rhubarb, less if it’s peaches, none of it's Bing cherries, or use your own plum or cherry jam left from last year instead of sugar. That’s what I use for sweetener, and the extra fruit flavor gives it extra depth. Slather the oat topping on top, nice and thick, and bake in a 350 degree oven until the topping it toasty brown and the fruit cooked through, about 45 minutes. Serve warm with vanilla ice cream… in a big bowl. Don’t be shy – you’re only going to eat this a couple times each summer, and the memories of it will last all winter long.
Topping: a couple cups of rolled oats, a stick of butter, a generous measure of brown sugar, a few teaspoons of cinnamon, and a handful of flour. Mix it up with your hands until the butter is broken down into little pebbles and rubbed into the oats. Add some chopped nuts if you like them. Try something besides cinnamon if you prefer. Maybe cardamom or allspice. I made a cherry crisp this morning that used almonds in the topping and a bit of almond extract mixed with the fruit. Delicious.
Fruit: Grease your baking dish and fill with sliced fruit. Apples, apricots, peaches, pitted cherries, diced rhubarb and strawberries, whatever. Sprinkle sugar on the fruit, more if it’s rhubarb, less if it’s peaches, none of it's Bing cherries, or use your own plum or cherry jam left from last year instead of sugar. That’s what I use for sweetener, and the extra fruit flavor gives it extra depth. Slather the oat topping on top, nice and thick, and bake in a 350 degree oven until the topping it toasty brown and the fruit cooked through, about 45 minutes. Serve warm with vanilla ice cream… in a big bowl. Don’t be shy – you’re only going to eat this a couple times each summer, and the memories of it will last all winter long.
Palouse Potato Salad
Potato salad comes in many forms but I like mine with red potatoes (unpeeled), hard boiled eggs, a bit of dill, something crunchy like celery or cucumber, bacon bits, onion or shallots, a little mayo, and lots of olive oil and lemon juice, plus salt and pepper. If I can get away with a little sweet pickle relish I will, although too much and the rest of my family will complain. The trick is to put the olive oil and lemon juice on the potatoes as soon as they’re drained, and still hot. Mmm.
The potatoes are from Washington, the eggs from here, the cucumber and shallots from the Yakima Valley, and the bacon from a Washington company, Hemplers. Don't know where the pigs grow up; need to find that out.
The potatoes are from Washington, the eggs from here, the cucumber and shallots from the Yakima Valley, and the bacon from a Washington company, Hemplers. Don't know where the pigs grow up; need to find that out.
The opposite of deprivation
We started our locavore diet a few days ago. We’re not militant about it; I’m aiming for 40 percent local (within 200 miles) and 40 percent regional (Washington, Idaho, Oregon, and western Montana.) I have a long list of exceptions such as Inka, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, lemon juice, steak sauce, olives, goat milk (maybe there’s someone nearby selling it I haven’t discovered yet?), peanuts, almonds, cashews, etc. and the occasional pint of store bought ice cream, among other things. My definition of local doesn’t quite mesh with the Co-op’s definition of local; maybe I can lobby the Co-op to change theirs, since I’m not going to change mine!
Saturday morning was the first farmer’s market of our diet and I rode my bike and took two canvas bags, expecting to get a lot of salad greens and some carrots and chard, forgetting that in the river valleys that bound the Palouse they’ve already got apricots, cherries, green beans, beets, and more. And our local growers had cucumbers, broccoli, kohlrabi, onions, peas, arugula, baby yellow squash, mizuna…
Thinking, “I’ve got another week before I get this chance again” I just kept buying and buying, finishing up with two loaves of bread from Panhandle Artisan Bread (they get their flour from Shepherd’s Grain Cooperative in Spokane, from wheat grown right here!) and a glass of iced horchata made this morning by Patty’s Mexican Kitchen. I’ve got to get a recipe for that stuff. I know it’s rice, sugar, water, and cinnamon – not local at all, but who cares, it’s so good. Maybe I just can just figure it out. Anyway, hauling the bags of stuff back to my bike (I had to use plastic bags offered by vendors so next time I’ll take more canvas) and then figuring out how to pack the load home was a good logistical challenge for 9 am on a Saturday.
The Palouse is particularly well-placed from a locavore’s perspective, or at least it would be if there were still salmon to be had nearby. But for fruits and vegetables and meat, the locavore must be prepared for the sheer bounty of summertime. Eating local in July is the exact opposite of deprivation.
On the menu in the next few days are stir-fry, chard frittata, borscht, and pizza. This morning after the market I made potato salad, green beans w/ balsamic vinaigrette w/ shallots and bacon, and cherry-rhubarb crisp. The satisfaction of cooking and eating such delicious fresh food cheered me up. It had been such a long hard wet winter and I had begun to lose my appetite while still gaining weight (all those lemon cream scones at the Co-op, yikes), a sure sign of trouble.
Saturday morning was the first farmer’s market of our diet and I rode my bike and took two canvas bags, expecting to get a lot of salad greens and some carrots and chard, forgetting that in the river valleys that bound the Palouse they’ve already got apricots, cherries, green beans, beets, and more. And our local growers had cucumbers, broccoli, kohlrabi, onions, peas, arugula, baby yellow squash, mizuna…
Thinking, “I’ve got another week before I get this chance again” I just kept buying and buying, finishing up with two loaves of bread from Panhandle Artisan Bread (they get their flour from Shepherd’s Grain Cooperative in Spokane, from wheat grown right here!) and a glass of iced horchata made this morning by Patty’s Mexican Kitchen. I’ve got to get a recipe for that stuff. I know it’s rice, sugar, water, and cinnamon – not local at all, but who cares, it’s so good. Maybe I just can just figure it out. Anyway, hauling the bags of stuff back to my bike (I had to use plastic bags offered by vendors so next time I’ll take more canvas) and then figuring out how to pack the load home was a good logistical challenge for 9 am on a Saturday.
The Palouse is particularly well-placed from a locavore’s perspective, or at least it would be if there were still salmon to be had nearby. But for fruits and vegetables and meat, the locavore must be prepared for the sheer bounty of summertime. Eating local in July is the exact opposite of deprivation.
On the menu in the next few days are stir-fry, chard frittata, borscht, and pizza. This morning after the market I made potato salad, green beans w/ balsamic vinaigrette w/ shallots and bacon, and cherry-rhubarb crisp. The satisfaction of cooking and eating such delicious fresh food cheered me up. It had been such a long hard wet winter and I had begun to lose my appetite while still gaining weight (all those lemon cream scones at the Co-op, yikes), a sure sign of trouble.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
