How I Lost My Peach Virginity

A crazy ripe peach is the epitome of all that is good and wonderful about eating what’s grown close to you, which is, by definition, seasonal. Of course, we can get peaches all year ’round now, as we can with just about any food. But whether you do or not comes down to how you define “peach.”

peaches

If your definition of a peach stops at “blushing orange orb,” then why wouldn’t you buy one in February (even if it is a bit firm)? But if “peach” to you means a “blushing orange orb that epitomizes the warmth of the summer sun and should come with a footnoted warning: Excess juice and high danger of drippage. Best eaten over a sink or outside on a stoop,” then it would make no sense at all to buy one in winter. And it wouldn’t irk you to wait for it, since your very definition of the fruit is inextricably tied to the whole experience of summer.

This may all sound grandiose, but I’m really just describing the shift that happened to my own perception of “peach” a few years back.

It had been a scorcher of a day, cooled at dusk by a breeze so refreshing it felt like taking a dip in a pool. I took a walk up to the orchard behind the house we were renting just to be outside. With each footfall, the earth exhaled the scent of warm straw and clay. In the orchard, shadows stretched across the rows of trees and one ruby-golden fruit with fuzz as rich as velvet called to me. It was like it had taken on the radiance of the sun and now glowed from within.

I picked it. I took a bite. And I’m not kidding you, I swooned. I’ve never liked being sticky, I think in large part because my mom never liked me being sticky. But I’ll tell you … I didn’t give a lick when that ambrosial nectar dripped down my forearms and off my elbows and into my hair. The farmer/poet/philosopher Mas Masumoto calls that moment “losing your peach virginity.” When I’d nibbled every last bit of flesh off that pit, I just stood there, trying to wrap my head around how freaking good that peach was. That moment painted the picture of “seasonal” for me like no magazine article or seminar sermon ever could, and I came away a changed woman.

So when should you make this Fiery-Sweet Salsa? Now … while the peaches are at their peak. Where should you get those peaches? From a farmer–or orchard–near you.

Nourishing Hero: Tamara Murphy

This is the latest installment in our Nourishing Heroes series, in which we feature the individuals and organizations who inspire us with food that nourishes body, soul and planet. Do you know a Nourishing Hero we should feature? Let us know who inspires you!

It would be easy for Tamara Murphy to rest on her culinary achievements: a James Beard Award, a Food & Wine Best New Chef designation, a shot at “Iron Chef” and over two decades as one of the grande dames of Seattle cuisine. Yet with an unyielding drive to dig deeper and understand our relationship to the food we eat, Murphy has found herself at the helm of a multipronged mission to support local, seasonal, sustainable food and the farmers who grow it.

With her Elliott Bay Café, and an upcoming earth-to-plate eatery (Terra Plata) in the works, she continues a long commitment to supporting local farms. After years of working with the farmers who supply the food she cooks, Murphy knows them and their livelihoods intimately and donates the proceeds from her annual Incredible Feast fund-raising event to the Good Farmer Fund.

She also created Burning Beast, an annual outdoor food fest that brings together local farmers and food producers with Seattle-area chefs, while some very lucky eaters get to enjoy the results. Those of us outside her Seattle realm can sink our teeth into her new cookbook, Tender: Simple Ways to Enjoy Eating, Cooking and Enjoying Our Food (Shin Shin Chez).

When did you start thinking deeply about where your food comes from?

It really started with the pigs. One day I was invited to a party at Whistling Train Farm and saw some piglets running around. I asked if I could buy one. Those were all taken by the neighboring families, but the farmer said I could have one from the next litter.

I was there while the piglets were born. I immediately felt a connection like I had never before. The farmer asked me which one I wanted. I couldn’t decide, so I said I would take all of them. I went down to the farm every week to feed them apples and scraps from the restaurant. It seemed important that I share my experience as it was happening. [The blog] Life of a Pig was the result of those visits.

I’d just signed up to nurture, prepare and eat these creatures. I needed a really good reason why. My newfound connection to something I’d been eating for years took on new meaning. My enlightenment didn’t come from a book; it came from my experience of a firsthand connection to an important food source and a particular farmer. That had been missing from my life. Those little piglets changed my life, and I will be eternally grateful.

What inspires you most about this hands-on intimacy with food?

Even before Life of a Pig, I went out to a farm and picked greens with the farmer. That was backbreaking work—the little mesclun greens, they cut them with a knife at the root. When you start to actually use your hands and experience things that way, the appreciation just becomes so much greater, and obvious.

What are some of the struggles unique to small farms?

One that comes to mind, along practical lines, is the flooding we’ve had recently in our area. On one farm up the Stillaguamish, the river flooded the banks. They had to move the farm and the animals. The water came into her house.

These farmers, they’re doing the right thing, using the right methods, and they don’t get any assistance. They’re not subsidized. That’s what the Good Farmer Fund is for, those unexpected hardships.

Aside from buying local and shopping at farmers’ markets, what else can we do to help ensure a local food supply?

The CSA (community-supported agriculture) program is good. We’re seeing more of that. Because you pay ahead of time, you’re helping the farm get ready for the growing season. They can ensure they’re not just getting money when they harvest and you buy. There are a lot of upfront costs.

What does the title, Tender, mean to you?

Obviously there’s the food relationship, and the price we pay for good food, but I also think about it in terms of the farmers, the ones who tend the earth. All of those definitions fit in our relationship with food and with what the book is trying to convey. It’s about community and the circle of farmers, cooks and eaters.

Food writer and cooking instructor Ginny Mahar currently resides in Missoula, Montana. Read about her mission to bring people back to the table on her blog, The Sunday Dinner Revival.

Meet our other Nourishing Heroes:

The Economics of Local Food

If there are any doubts that local food is a hot commodity these days, you need look no further than the supermarket produce section. And when I say “supermarket” I mean the regular grocery store, not the likes of Whole Foods, which already has a long track record of prominently marketing local products in its aisles. These days, supermarket produce-department signs now tout “locally grown,” and in some cases even highlight specific growers.
economics-of-local-foodWhile I enjoy the convenience of buying produce from local growers when I zip into the store to pick up pasta and loo paper, I can’t help wondering if it’s a good deal for the farmers, too.

It can be, says Mark Marino, of Cinagro Inc., a Carmel, Calif., organic farm and garden design firm. Marino has worked as an organic farmer and horticulturist for over 30 years and knows the often-difficult economics of running a small farm. Selling crops through a variety of outlets–farmers’ markets, CSAs, retail outlets and restaurants–is smart business, he says.

“It affords the smaller to medium farmers a chance to find their economic balance,” says Marino. “It’s a lot like a stock portfolio–you want to have a good mix in there, so if one goes down, you can sell elsewhere.”

Which is the best? That depends.

CSA (Community-Supported Agriculture)

How it works: You buy a share in a farm’s crop for a season and pick up a box of produce at a set location each week. CSAs vary tremendously–some are farm-direct; others are coordinated by a third party. For the basics on how they work, check out “CSA 101.”

Upside: Financial liquidity for the farmer. “It’s huge for a farmer to have that money upfront and not have to pay interest on it,” says Marino.

“One of the advantages of selling through a CSA is that the farmer already has a market and doesn’t have to spend the time selling,” says Erin Barnett, director of LocalHarvest.org.

You get peak-season produce. While you may have a rough idea of what to expect each week, there are bound to be some surprises in the box. If you’re an adventurous cook, it’s a weekly version of a chef’s market-basket challenge in which you’re given ingredients and have to improvise what to do with them.

Downside: “CSAs tend to require a wide range of produce, and it can be challenging for the farmer to keep up,” says Barnett.

You don’t have much control over what arrives in the box each week and may also find yourself looking for ways to use a bumper crop of something you don’t love. CSAs may also deliver more than you can use up in a week, although some also offer half-shares that are ideal for single people and couples. You can also split a share with a friend or neighbor.

Best for: Those who want a direct relationship with a farm. Some CSAs even welcome shareholders to spend a day working on the farm.

Farmers’ Market

How it works: The farmer sets up a stand at a regularly scheduled pop-up market and sells direct to shoppers. Depending on the market, the farmer pays a small flat fee or a commission on sales.

Upside: “The beauty of the farmers’ market is that it’s cash,” says Marino. Farmers don’t have to give payment terms or wholesale prices (as they would to a store or restaurant) so more money stays in the farmer’s pocket.

Shoppers enjoy a selection of uber-fresh produce and often other farm-fresh goodies like eggs, poultry and meats. You’re likely to find more varieties. For instance, instead of one or two types of beets you’d find at the supermarket, a farmers’ market stand will offer three or four. You’ll also have better luck finding ultra-seasonal specialty items, like sunchokes or romanesco cauliflower.

Depending on the market, you may or may not find yourself chatting with the farmer. I live in Southern California, where some growers have stands at more than a dozen markets a week. By necessity, they hire workers to run the stands.

Downside: “Mother Nature,” says Marino. A rainy day will scare shoppers away, which means less money for the farmer.

I’m also spoiled because I live in Southern California, and farmers’ markets are year-round. But for shoppers in other parts of the country, farmers’ markets are only open part of the year. Still, as farmers’ markets gain popularity, many are extending their season for weekly markets and offering less-frequent markets in the off-season.

Best for: Shoppers who want to buy super-seasonal items direct from farmers but need more flexibility and choice than they’d get with a CSA membership.

Stores

How it works: Farmers sell their crops to stores at wholesale prices–usually 50% below retail.

Upside: It provides another outlet for the farmer. “If it’s raining this week at the farmers’ market and no one comes out, they’re still selling to the stores,” says Barnett. Also, the farmer doesn’t have to staff a farmers’ market stand or package multiple boxes for delivery at various pick-up locations for a CSA.

Shoppers–particularly those who aren’t likely to join a CSA or go to a farmers’ market–enjoy a convenient way to support local growers.

Downside: Farmers typically have to wait 30-60 days to get paid by the store. And even then a retailer may balk at paying for items that don’t sell or were mishandled after delivery. “It doesn’t happen often, but it can,” says Marino.

Best for: Shoppers who aren’t interested in a CSA and unlikely to make it to the farmers’ market regularly.

And what about price? Farmers’ markets and CSAs typically have the edge over grocery stores–but not always, says Marino. In any case, he adds, farmers’ markets and CSAs offer a connection to the land and the people who grow your food that’s priceless.

Community Supported … Pasture?

It’s inevitable. As people learn more about where their food comes from and start to shift their buying habits from whatever’s on the shelf to more deliberate, sustainable choices, they run up against a wall. Where do I find the foods I can feel good about? Happily, in many communities, local food now offers pasture-raised chicken, grass-fed beef, and sustainably raised pork.

community-supported-pasture

Farmers’ markets, CSAs and even community gardens abound these days, offering an abundance of fresh, seasonal produce. From December, 2001 to July, 2005, the number of reported CSA farms rose from 761 to 1,144, an increase of roughly 50 percent. And here’s some more good news: There’s a burgeoning movement on the meat front too.

A growing number of CSA farms are expanding beyond produce to offer meat, poultry and eggs from the pasture. Part of the reason is just smart business; farmers are diversifying their product mix. Another driver for many farmers is the desire to create the closed-loop system that agriculture was meant to be.

What do I mean by that? To explain, I’ll borrow an illustration that Wes Jackson of The Land Institute used when I saw him speak at a conference a couple of years back. He popped a slide of Norman Rockwell’s “Visit From a County Agent” illustration up on screen and then articulated how it encapsulated all the elements that make agriculture work.

Right off the bat, you can see that there are a variety of animals in the photo, and each has its purpose. The cats catch the mice. The dogs ward off predators. The chickens lay eggs and produce poultry. The cows produce milk and meat.

But that’s just the surface. Jackson also pointed out that the chicken and cows were essential for more than just their eggs, milk and meat. Their manure was the gold the land needed to grow the crops that fed the livestock and the family.

There’s your closed loop. Waste from the animals to fertilize the fields to grow the crops to feed the livestock and the family … and on back around again. Compare that to monoculture crops and feedlot cattle—the two ends of the spectrum in a ruptured farming system—where synthetic fertilizer must be purchased to grow the crops, and excess waste from cattle creates toxic cesspools.

If you’ve read Michael Pollan’s Omnivore’s Dilemma or watched FRESH or Food, Inc., the concept of a closed-loop farming system isn’t new to you (nowadays we call it polyculture). What is new, to bring us back around to the topic of this post, is the fact that it’s inspiring more and more small farmers to expand beyond just crops.

Some, like Dearing Country Farms in Illinois, have expanded their CSA produce offerings ($330 for roughly five months of produce) to eggs and chickens ($700 for produce plus a chicken and a dozen eggs each week). Others, like Oregon’s Inspiration Plantation’s “CSP” (Community Supported Pasture), focus strictly on meat; in this case, chicken, turkey, lamb and pork.

As rosy at it may seem to jump into a meat CSA, there are challenges for both farmer and consumer. The first is the added complication and cost of processing; in order to be sold commercially, meat must be processed in a USDA-certified facility. Second is the fact that meat is highly perishable and must be stored—and sold—frozen. Third is a matter of scale: A cow is a lot larger than a head of cauliflower. What’s easiest for the farmer, to sell a side of beef, for instance, is not the most convenient for the customer … unless you happen to have a very large, empty freezer and a penchant for cooking nose to toes. But I’ve found that that’s changing. Most of the meat CSA options I run across nowadays focus on primal cuts and sausages.

So where, you ask—you plead—can you find a meat CSA? The best source I’ve found for direct-to-consumer meat is www.eatwild.org. You have to cull through the listings in each state to find those near you, but it’s worth it for the range it offers. Other resources are www.localharvest.org and www.eatwellguide.org.

Don’t forget one of the major benefits of joining any CSA … to get to know the people who grow, or in this case raise, your food. Who knows, maybe they’re fans of Norman Rockwell.

Nourishing Issues 2011: The Evolution of Local

This is part 2 in our Nourishing Issues 2011 series, in which we’re spotlighting a few key topics: food safety, local food and nutrition. The list could be much longer, of course, but these are three biggies that we’re sure to revisit throughout the year.

At NOURISH Evolution, we’re all about enjoying local food. It’s fresh, seasonal, inspiring fare that supports farmers in your community and a safe, sustainable food system. But over the last few months, we’ve seen some interesting developments in the local-food movement.

There are certainly many signs of local food going mainstream. Overall, that’s a good thing, because it encourages continued growth of local production. It’s a top trend among chefs, according to the National Restaurant Association’s “What’s Hot in 2011” chef survey in which locally sourced meat, seafood and produce topped the list (closely followed by sustainability). That’s hardly surprising when you consider a Penn State University study that found diners are willing to pay almost 20% more for dishes made with local fare.

Local food has become such a hot-button issue that large corporations are looking for ways to jump on the bandwagon. Last year, McDonalds worked with the Italian government to create the “McItaly” burger made with 100% beef sourced from within Italy. Italian critics were not impressed–hardly a surprising reaction in the country that birthed the Slow Food Movement when McDonalds opened in the heart of Rome 20 years ago. Here at home, the fast-food giant launched its From Here microsite to show Washington State patrons how much of their Happy Meals are sourced within the state, including potatoes, apples, milk and fish. But it doesn’t address questions like whether that 43 million pounds of Pacific Northwest fish is sustainably sourced, which prompted accusations of localwashing.

Last fall, America’s mega-retailer Wal-Mart announced a global initiative to source more produce from small- and medium-size farmers, pledging to double sales of locally sourced crops in the U.S. alone. How this will play out for farmers and consumers remains to be seen. One question that comes to my mind is whether farmers will get fair prices for their goods. Wal-Mart is known for driving hard bargains with its vendors in order to ensure rock-bottom prices for patrons.

We’ve also seen outright abuses of the local-food trend. A few months ago, we reported on Los Angeles-area farmers’ market vendors caught selling wholesale warehouse-sourced produce (from as far away as Mexico) as “local.” Stunts like these make consumers confused and wary, and could undermine reputable local growers.

Of course, “local” is a loosely defined term when it comes to food. The Locavore movement, which launched in San Francisco in 2005, defined it as food that was grown and harvested within a 100-mile radius of where you live. But the 2008 Food, Conservation and Energy Act adopted by Congress is much broader, defining “locally or regionally produced agricultural food product” as being sold within less than 400 miles from its origin or within the state in which it is produced. In large states like Texas or California, that means your food can come from much farther than 400 miles and still be considered local or regional. Hmm, by that definition, the Los Angeles farmers’ market vendors selling produce from Mexico might, technically, have been selling regional food, even if shoppers didn’t agree.

But the expansion of “local” to embrace regional isn’t necessarily a bad thing. As Barry Estabrook noted in his Politics of the Plate blog, a strong regional food system may be the most realistic and sustainable solution. And, really, when it comes down to it, we support anything that brings safe, sustainable, affordable food to America’s tables, whether it’s as local as your own back garden or sustainably produced fare from your region.

Also in this series:

What Will It Take to Make Our Food Safe?

How “Local” is Your Local Food?

UPDATE: We first shared this news in September. Now a new story by David Karp for the Los Angeles Times details how Southern California’s largest farmers’ market operator may have protected a vendor known to sell wholesale produce from Mexico as his own. As the whistle-blower in this case notes, farmers’ markets aren’t all “peace, love and hippies.”

I love visiting the local farmers’ market, shopping for peak-season, pesticide-free produce and supporting local growers. And, like many shoppers, I trust that the vendors are the real deal.

Not always. A new NBC-LA investigative report of Los Angeles-area farmers’ markets finds that not all vendors are legit. While most are selling genuine locally grown fare, more than a few are cutting corners. The report reveals “farmers” buying “local” produce from as far away as Mexico at the wholesale warehouse in downtown LA. Lab results also discovered that vendors touting pesticide-free fruits and veggies were, indeed, selling wares that had been sprayed. (Your best bet to ensure farmers’ market food is pesticide-free is to buy from certified-organic vendors.)

Lia has said it before, and we’ll say it again, you have to get to know your farmer. Even better, plan a little day trip to visit the farm. You might be reassured–or surprised–by what you find.

Do You Call Yourself a Locavore? … Why?

My, my, my … there’s been a tizzy of discussion as of late about how misguidedly futile it is to be a locavore. Which, I’ll be quite frank, annoys me a titch. I think one of the downfalls we face time and again in America is that we jump on bandwagons and ride them hard to the end of the road until they fall apart in a heap. We don’t seem to learn that what starts out as something inherently positive—buy organic, buy local, buy wild-caught—turns sour when all other options are ruled out as blasphemy.

Which is what I feel is happening with the organic versus local versus (now) low carbon footprint discussions. First of all, not everyone who sources their food locally is doing so because they think it will save the planet (as we found out when we asked you to weigh in, both here and on Facebook). That, in perfect bandwagon style, is lopping off big chunks of the big picture.

Many people I know, myself and other NOURISH Evolution members included, buy food from local growers because it fosters community and connects us deeper to the place we call home. We also do it because we can ask farmers how they’re growing their food, and ranchers how they’re raising their livestock. Not to mention the fact that a locally-based food system (bear in mind this could mean regional sourcing … it doesn’t need to mean Farmer John down the street) may just be safer too.

So how do you keep from swaying from ‘got to buy local’ to ‘got to buy organic’ to throwing your hands up in exasperation? Ask yourself what’s important to you.

Is a low carbon footprint top on your list? Then you should probably start a garden of your own and, while you’re at it, seriously consider cutting down on how much meat you eat. Are chemicals and genetic modification what concern you most? Then you’ll want to stick with certified organic, or buy from farmers directly—organic or not—so you can ask them how they grow their food. Is supporting your community what excites you? Then suss out farmers markets and give a few CSAs a try.

This isn’t to say that you can’t challenge yourself to move in other areas as well. I’m awfully dialed in on sourcing food that’s free from conventional chemicals and manipulation, but I could certainly grow in the lowering my carbon footprint department. I drive to town all the time, for example, when I could easily bike the few blocks to market (I even bought a basket and pumped up my tires … now I just need to do it).

The important thing is to make an informed choice of your own, not blindly follow what someone else says … no matter how virtuous it may sound.

How Do You Define “Locavore”?

Last week, historian and author Stephen Budiansky raised quite a ruckus with his controversial New York Times op-ed piece, “Math Lessons for Locavores.” He took issue with the argument that buying local fare saves “food miles” (i.e., energy) and scolded local-food advocates for tossing around misleading and selective numbers to support their side.

Citing numbers from the University of Michigan Centers for Sustainable Systems, Budiansky noted that the big energy hog in our food system is the American household, which accounts for almost 32% of food-related energy use (from procuring food to storing, preparing and cleaning up after it). Transportation–the actual miles it takes to bring food to your table–uses less than 14% of food “energy.”

The piece unleashed an avalanche of responses. In her Huffington Post rebuttal, Kerry Trueman, co-founder of EatingLiberally.org, dismissed Budiansky’s “deeply unserious” piece as “another flimsy, flammable straw man [made] out of boilerplate anti-locavore rhetoric.” She notes, quite rightly, that consumer-related food-energy expenses have nothing to do with whether we buy our food locally or not.

On the other side, “Supermarket Guru” Phil Lempert (who is sponsored by ConAgra, by the way), praised Budiansky’s “terrific” piece and declared, “One thing is clear to me: It is the beginning of the end of local.” He accuses locavore advocates of often distorting facts, which has confused consumers and eroded their confidence in the local-food movement.

Clearly, it’s not a black-or-white issue. “Local” often depends on where you live. If you’re in Southern California, like me, it’s pretty easy to get most, if not all, your food within a 100-mile radius year-round. If you live in Montana, where the growing season is fleeting, you may need a seasonal approach to local fare, as well as a broader definition of what’s “local.” In his blog, Politics of the Plate, Barry Estabrook suggests a regional approach to food may be a more realistic solution for many Americans.

As with so many food-related issues, we believe this takes a nuanced approach based on your needs and values. Lia is going to address this issue in more depth next week.

In the meantime, let us know what local food means to you.