(CSA Newsletter: Summer Week 6)
Meet this week’s vegetables:
“What is ‘local’?” … is a question I’ve pondered over the last week as—between days of harvest and field work—I read Plenty: One Man, One Woman, and a Raucous Year of Eating Locally by Alisa Smith and J.B. MacKinnon. Similar in premise to Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle (mentioned in a previous newsletter), Smith and MacKinnon’s 2007 book relates their yearlong commitment to eating only locally produced foods.
There was much to think about with this book. For me (Katie), even more so than when I read Kingsolver’s. For one thing, Smith and MacKinnon’s year of eating locally (2005-06) in their urban Vancouver, B.C. setting paralleled a much less well documented adventure that was occurring simultaneously a few miles to the south. That was the same year that Casey and I first really dedicated ourselves to eating a locally focused diet, cooking from scratch and preserving in our tiny Bellingham studio apartment. Like the authors, our attempts to eat close to home were in continual contrast to our actual setting. Like them, we had many exciting adventures in home preserving, including failed attempts to dry fruit in our oven (which mostly just made our apartment unbearably hot during a summer heat wave).
I could list even further similarities we shared in the region and in our eating adventures, but what was more intriguing to me as I read were the significant differences in our experiences.
Smith and MacKinnon’s tone shifts through the memoir but many moments are challenging for them. Even though it ends on a positive note, much of the book is dominated by this feeling of difficulty—difficulty in locating food above all else.
Casey and I did not share that same experience, for several reasons. For one thing, we had been building up to our final commitment for years—each season bringing new consciousness about food and its sources through various events in our lives. By the time we found ourselves fully committed, we had already spent many years sourcing local ingredients in the Whatcom County area: we knew where to find apples, cheese, nuts, etc. even before we ‘began’ our year.
And, of course, we were working at Cedarville Farm that year, so we had daily access to unlimited fresh organically grown vegetables. Even after the official farming season ended in December, we visited the farm once every few weeks to haul home boxes of kale, cabbage, potatoes, winter squash, onions and whatever else we could glean from the fields or storage bins. Our diet was vegetable rich the entire year, without any feeling of scarcity even during the darkest and coldest months.
But our experience was also easier based on the parameters of the experiments. Smith and MacKannon limited themselves exclusively to food items produced within a tight 100-mile radius of their home in Vancouver. (Incidentally, they journaled about the experience on their website—www.100milediet.org—and became minor celebrities even before the book was published.) Everything had to be from that region, which meant that simple staples such as salt, pepper, flour, and other grains became suddenly problematic.
We certainly were not (and are not) so strict about what ‘local’ means for our diet. (Of course, we’re not writing a book on the subject, so our living experiment doesn’t need to have such rhetorically useful boundaries.) During the same year Smith and MacKinnon scavenged for ingredients, Casey and I continued to supplement our local vegetables, dairy products, and eggs with spices, teas, dinners out, and other extras drawing from beyond our region.
Perhaps it was in order to justify our own relatively lax approach to local eating, but as I read Plenty, I contemplated the 100-mile diet notion with skepticism. On one hand, the concept does provide specificity for what is otherwise a vague term—‘local’ could mean almost any geographic distance depending on the context and agenda of its use.
However, I found myself continually resisting the 100-mile diet’s concrete boundaries. Perhaps my resistance was in response to guilt—I couldn’t help thinking shamefully about the coffee in my cupboard as I followed their adventures.
But, rather than just feel guilty and move on, I chose to further digest the book’s premise. First of all, I acknowledged that to some extent the 100-mile diet is a symbolic conceit (albeit an important one) rather than a realistic lifestyle model. So, if this isn’t a realistic model, how then might we approach our own food choices? After much consideration during weeding sessions, I think I finally came up with a way for Casey and me to think about local food—something with more flexibility than the 100-mile radius but with just as much real challenge.
To explain my idea, I must first dip quickly into another concept, that of permaculture design—a theoretical approach to sustainable agriculture developed by Bill Mollison. A key aspect in designing a permaculture farm or homestead is to think about what he calls ‘zones’ of activity, categorized by frequency of use and proximity to ones dwelling: ‘Zone 1’ is the area immediately surrounding a dwelling and most frequently visited: perhaps the kitchen herb garden and chicken coop. ‘Zone 2’ is the area next frequently visited: perhaps a vegetable garden or an orchard. And so on, out to ‘Zone 5’ which is wild area, infrequently visited but still crucial to a farm. For a permaculture design, these zones are useful in thinking through how one might design systems and layout fields and other areas (i.e. areas visited most often should be closest to home).
Ok—hang in there folks and forgive my temporary lapse into alternative agriculture theories—to connect this to local eating: I think that same type of mental categorizing based on use and proximity is applicable to thinking about food. More specifically, categorizing to prioritize what food groups we should attempt to source as locally as possible and which we might be flexible on.
As an example, for Casey and me, ‘Zone 1’ foods could be the foods that make up the bulk of our diet, key staples that provide the most calories and nourishment. In our case that would of course be vegetables, which are the most local part of our diet, coming from the farm itself. ‘Zone 2’ would be the foods that for us ‘back up’ the vegetables by providing key protein accompaniments: eggs, meat, and dairy products—all of which we source from within Yamhill County—still close to home but not as close as the fields. ‘Zone 3’ might be the extra carbohydrates we eat (especially in summer), which for us take the shape of Red Fox bread, locally baked but not necessarily from flour locally grown. We also purchase grains, flour, and beans that are either produced within the region or are organically grown. ‘Zone 4’ might be the ‘extras’ in our diet, such as the ingredients for making cookies, bottled ketchup/salad dressings, and coffee. These might not be local at all (although we still purchase them from local businesses), but they are in our diet sparingly. And ‘Zone 5’ might be the rare occasions that our diet is not local at all, such as when we choose to eat out.
So, in other words in this crazy blending of the permaculture zone concept with food: the foods (zones) more frequently consumed (the bulk of the diet) we would aim to be more local—and the foods (zones) less frequently consumed we could provide ourselves some flexibility with. Really, the permaculture language and terminology is not at all important, but I liked how it helped me think through a more basic concept.
And, while it certainly lacks the graceful simplicity of the 100-mile diet, I am growing to like this alternative version of a local eating ‘theory’ or ‘planning structure’. For one, it provides Casey and me with flexibility in our purchasing decisions—but it still provides a challenge, both in sourcing local foods and in how we balance our diet. The way I weighted the food ‘zones’ reflects Casey and my attitiudes about nutritional balance: fruit and vegetables being the primary foods; followed by healthy unprocessed proteins; followed by whole carbohydrates; followed by salts, fats, and stimulants; followed by food produced outside the home (usually more processed and higher in salts and fats).
As such, the model provides us both a goal for eating locally and healthily. The two might appear mutually inclusive, but the priority setting seems important nonetheless.
(A not unimportant side note: our ‘zone 1’ foods are also the most perishable and require the most energy to ship whereas foods like grains take less to store and ship—something to think about in prioritizing local purchasing based on energy consumption and environmental impact.)
Surprising as it may be, even as vegetable growers Casey and I still have to be intentional about eating a vegetable-rich diet. On some busy days our diet easily becomes out of balance as we find ourselves too harried to bother with vegetables and instead scarf down bread and butter on our way to market or the CSA pick-up. Even though slicing a carrot or cucumber takes no more time, we still find ourselves sharing the American delusion that vegetables just are not convenient. They are—you know that by now, as do we—but setting goals helps us stay out of such ruts.
So, that being said, my permaculture-inspired diet is a better reflection of our goals than our reality on many days. But even then, Casey and I have fairly well immersed ourselves in a local and seasonal eating routine. In the epilogue to Plenty, Smith and MacKinnon relate that they didn’t want to go back to a non-seasonal, non-local diet after their experiment. The foods they ate that year tasted richer and more real than anything they experienced before. We shared that experience; in our parallel Bellingham year we found ourselves continually delighted by our seasonal diet, even in winter when whipped winter squash and braised Brussels sprouts warmed our bellies on cold evenings. We were never bored and have not been since.
Last week after a long market day, we returned home just before sunset to move our irrigation one last time and then finally eat a real meal for the first time that day. In the standard American diet, our fatigue would have been a perfect excuse for convenience over seasonal, local, or healthy. But we don’t keep ‘convenience’ foods in the house. So, instead Casey sliced one of our first ripe muskmelons; we grilled burgers from our friends’ beef, which we ate on Red Fox bread with sautéed onions from our farm; and we enjoyed one of our ripe tomatoes. (Oh, and we washed it all down with homebrew given to us by a CSA member.) It turned out to be a beautiful, quick local meal—satisfying, balanced, and tasty.
Which leaves me at one final simple note: when all is said and done, there are pleasures at the table. Enjoy this week’s vegetables.
Your farmers,
Katie & Casey Kulla
Oakhill Organics
What a great post! I love the idea of relating food choices and permaculture principles. 100 miles is very arbitrary, and not very realistic – the idea of giving up (or feeling guilty about) coffee is a good example. Also, l tend to resist the idea of setting arbitrary or dogmatic limits on food. Instead, I like the idea of eating less of foods sourced from farther away, and more that are grown nearby.
Incidentally, glad you liked the beef!
Thank you so much for your post! I’ve been reading all these great books over the year (Pollan, Kingsolver) but I still feel like I am in the early stages of figuring out how to actually pull off eating locally. Got the veggies down (love ’em!) and fruit. Does anyone have any resources they’d be willing to share? (eggs? beef?)
More excellent thinking and writing! I always look forward to reading your Wednesday posts. And I agree with you and Val on the great connection you drew between permaculture and feeding ourselves and on mainly trying to eat and support more food and goods that are grown and made nearby. As I was reading, it also brought to mind the USDA food pyramid, just with vegetables and fruit as our anchor, grains above that, then proteins, and sparingly the fats, salts and other treats – and how that also relates to the decisions to try to get the bulk of your diet as locally and seasonally as possible on up to the items we eat less of and are often from further sources.
We heard the Plenty couple interviewed on NPR, have the book in our library queue (it’s a very long wait..) and are excited that they are getting so much press (like Kingsolver’s new book!) encouraging more people to think in that direction in any way with their food choices. It’s really neat to know about your experience in Bellingham. I agree that 100 miles is a great parameter for a book and a solid concept for people to grasp, but difficult to actually do long term, in that it takes a lot of time to plan and source food, involves extra money and a lot of mapping… partly because of the pro big corporations way that our food/farm and grocery system is set up, which is heavily determined by our government.
I wonder if more innovative buying clubs where people can go in on purchasing the non-produce items that may not even be carried in their local grocery store and for prices that are so much more affordable could help, so that money is not the factor between making more local, sustainable choices. I heard an explanation about co-ops, which now often seem as expensive as the big health food chains, that some started in the 70’s are grandfathered in to have the community/worker model, but that government regulations now limit the amount members are allowed to work. It may have been well intentioned to protect worker’s wages, but it has severely limited the possibilities of a true co-op and more affordable food options. I have to look into it more.
The bread and butter/busy story is nice to hear, we think that, too sometimes when we are so busy it is hard to take time to cook or we get back from the farm patch so late and yet we have all these amazing veggies. Neil is a dedicated cook and really does a lot to make sure we eat as good as we can with all the produce we have, even when we’re really tired. We also try to limit ‘convenience’ foods and buy our staples in bulk, stock up so we always have a lot on hand, and make vegetables the base of our dishes, versus pasta, grains or protein. I think when you’re in a hurry sometimes, your body instinctively wants to grab quick calories, because it knows you need energy now and isn’t sure about your promise to feed yourself this yummy vegetable meal later. (Maybe we have a track record of work first, food later, that makes our bodies particularly suspicious, even though they believe our good intent..ahem)
A nice thing about your Zone 5 – eating out, is that I know the way you get Red Fox bread and other items, that any time you eat out, whether their food is local – the restaurant is and you are helping that small local business stay in the community just as your CSA members and market shoppers sustain you. Which leads to another thought about supporting local businesses that I don’t exactly know how to articulate. It is an idea I’ve been having and trying to support for a long time, since I worked a day in an alcohol swab factory when I was younger. It was an important, haunting eye opener to realize that everything I’d grown up with, was for the most part, made in a factory by factory workers. I’d never thought of anything like that back then. Products were just what they were – band-aids in a box or salty cheesy crackers that came in a plastic bag in a colorful box. Once you start thinking about where everything is made, from your car, clothes, building supplies, shampoo, electronics, toilet paper and of course, food, it’s hard to stop. I’d never thought about where they came from. and it led me to think about food a lot. I remember about ten years eating a vegetable lasagna at a nicer restaurant and my mind going off into breaking down the ingredients and trying to picture where it had all come from, been grown, processed, packaged, how many people had been involved for each part and how many different vehicles where involved to get each part into the restaurant and then how many people at the restaurant had been involved in preparing it and bringing the lasagna to my table for me to eat. I imagined wanting to investigate and specifically map that out with drawings and photos the origination, journey and people involved with each vegetable, cheese, sauce, noodle…
There is so much of our existence that we take for granted, partly just because we need to work so much to function the way our society is setup, there’s not always a lot of time to try to understand how or why life is the way it is.
So I may be rambling a bit and could more, so I will wrangle myself in… I know people working in factories need the work, we all need income and many products in our life require large scale mechanization, so I don’t mean to say they are wrong or can be avoided. The building department for example, doesn’t usually allow you to make your own toilet even if you want, you are required to purchase one they will approve. You can buy one used, but that toilet was made in a factory by people some where. It’s just interesting to think about.
And I also know it’s really hard to start and sustain a small business, since we are wrestling with ‘small-scale, land lease, unofficially-organic farming…’ right now and our ideas about how to financially sustain ourselves in the future. So I guess I want to add in an idea I’m sure you think about and do, which is to support any small-scale, hand made products whenever you can. Vegetables and fruits are particularly wonderful and easy to do locally and in season. And as you mentioned, proteins are, too. For other food and non-food items, even if that’s slightly or well beyond a ‘100’ mile, or county, state or regional ‘local’ model, you can help support a network of goods being made by people who are directly supported versus the corporate factory model. Buy ‘Hand made’ or Buy ‘Small Business’ ? okay maybe not as catchy, but to try to make choices that are not major corporations if and when you can. And here at the end of this lovely idea, I have to admit that we end up at Trader Joe’s for certain non-produce things more than we’d like, because we currently have a hard time affording some of the great local products available, that we’d love to support and buy, while we are attempting to farm. This is a conundrum for us. We are sheepish.
Thank you for always sharing such open, honest and intricate thoughts and the processes that led you there. Your muskmelon homebrew dinner sounds lovely and we hope to be able to visit you again, see your finished house and fields so happy and eat yummy food sometime soon. We’ve got a little truck now that can safely deliver us down to the Grand Island ‘hood. You inspire us and really provide farm community through all of this writing. Thank you thank you!
ps. how are your chickens? more photos! : )
Thanks for sharing all of this wonderful insight and exploration of our food/economic (and social) systems. I’m interested in permaculture theories and this has made realize once again there is much to be learned in that realm. As I was reading through your post and these comments it was re-affirmed as to why we signed up for the Oakhill Organics CSA this year. We were (are) seeking local, sustainable, fresh food and looking to support young, local farmers. In that respect, it was a simple choice. Again, thanks for your thoughts.
p.s. I read Plenty a couple months ago and was struck by the commitment they made to the book, but also the narrative writing style. I really enjoyed the switches between their different personalities and believe I would have enjoyed the book even if I hadn’t been obsessing a little over the topic.
I already told you how much I enjoyed your post yesterday at the farmers market, but I wanted to reaffirm that. I especially appreciated your idea of breaking it down into zones. I feel the same in regards to coffee and sugar and things that aren’t produced locally. I think this is a model that would be much more sustainable in the long term than cutting out anything that can’t be had in a 100 mile radius.
I also appreciated Naomi’s comment on supporting small business. As we have been starting our business in the past couple of years, it really drove home the need to support our local businesses in a way that wasn’t as tangible before. Unfortunately for us, our primary materials (steel and other metals) aren’t grown or produced locally but we can buy them from local distributors and, of course, put our own hearts into it’s transformation.
One thing that is always going to be an issue for small/local businesses, I believe, is cost. It is almost always going to cost more when you buy from a small or local businesses. It’s just not possible to grow/produce/sell for a price that is comparable to Walmart or other big corporations. That is something that is a huge hurdle for much of America, I think, becasue we have become accustomed to buying as much as we can for as little as possible, usually compromising quality for quantity. We face this in our line of business all the time and I’m sure that you do as well when someone can buy a two pound bag of carrots for $.75 or a bunch of yours for $2.00. Unless they see that value in the cost difference, they aren’t going to want to fork over the extra $1.25. A screen door from Lowe’s would be at least half the cost of what we can custom fabricate, for another example. In some, perhaps a lot, of cases, people can’t afford such a difference. In many, people could afford it but they don’t want to cut other things that they have become accustomed to having. If I remember correctly, we spend one of the lowest percentages of our income on food in the world, yet we probably eat the most. That is just crazy to me. We should be more concerned about why we are spending so little, especially when we consider all the sickness and obesity that is burgeoning in our society. If we don’t put high quality fuel into our bodies, then we shouldn’t expect optimal function.
This has gotten longer than I planned but it just started pouring out. Let me wrap up by saying that I do still shop at big box stores though it has become far less. I am weaning myself from consumerism.
Good stuff here folks.
Seems like cost of food always plays a part in these discussions. I always remind folks that maybe we shouldn’t always focus on “cheaper than” or “more expensive than” but focusing on being comfortable with spending a larger percentage of our total income on food. I’m pretty sure the USA spends one of the lowest percentages of their income on food. I always like to think that our veggies and other “real” farmer’s veggies (like Oakhill :)) aren’t more expensive. They’re actually the normalized price. It’s just that the other junk you see at Wal-Mart is simply subsidized by corporate stupidity. Not the most eloquent statement, but I feel pretty strong about it. It’s kind of like when you here people say, ” Organic as opposed to Regular Food” ????????
It’s why sometimes I wish I didn’t have to be an “Organic” farmer, I could just be a farmer- who happens to grow food the right way (which happens to be along the lines of current organic standards)
Got a little off topic.
And YES thanks Katie for the permaculture Zone analogy. Zones are one of the main ideas we actually still use from our permaculture training.
Hope all is well.
Katie, I smiled when I read your post as I was just “preaching to you” at the farmers market about Barbara’s Book … and here you are the choir : ) I loved what you wrote … amen sista : )
so this brings me to why I can to your blog…
…those melons you sold me …
HOLY COW that was the best melon I’ve ever had.. PERIOD!
mine aren’t quite ripe yet in my humble garden and your’s where down right inspiring!
thank you for growing, inspiring and for enriching us!… your new “baby farmer” friend… clare