I Have Jags

I just learned this word while reading a magazine article about a local foodie. A jag is apparently an obsession, or as dictionary.com put it, "a period of unrestrained indulgence in an activity; spree; binge." This seems to describe me quite well - much to the chagrin of many of my loved ones. I get on jags, I collect them, I circulate my jags and give them time to breathe. Like shoes. If I stick with a jag too long, it loses some kind of magic for me, but coming upon a fresh jag (or better, coming back to a pleasurable old jag) keeps things lively.

So, my local-food jag isn't necessarily gone, it's just getting freshened. I'm proud of the local-foods movement for taking the prize as Oxford American Dictionary's Word of the Year. I'm still keeping an eye on where my food comes from, and I'm pleasantly surprised to find that most of the food I buy is already local - as long as I shop at the co-op, the farmer's market, and my CSA, it's quite easy actually. Trips to Whole Foods or Trader Joe's or (eek!) Safeway throw the whole local-food thing out of whack - it's nearly impossible to find things made locally and, even when I do, I know that it can't truly count as local because even if the food was made by my next-door neighbor, it's still traveled an average of 1500 miles to a distribution center in Austin or Monrovia or Salt Lake City before coming back to my neighborhood.

But back to my point about jags. Because folks, Mama's got a brand new jag. And it's an old one, one you might remember me blogging about this past spring. But I believe I have finally found my knitting legs, so to speak, after many attempts. I credit Debbie Stoller and her awesome book, Stitch'n Bitch, for me finally understanding how to tangle yarn artistically. And I thank Lisa and Martha for inspiring me.

Reconnecting with knitting has reconnected me with the deep feminine urge to create useful things, and to do it beautifully. And to do it for others. I can't stop thinking of things I'd like to make for people close to me - right now I have no plans to keep any current projects for myself, and this is a really pleasurable departure from my usual narcissism. Thus, I have decided to make as many Christmas gifts as I can this year, given my schedule (in rehearsals for maybe the best play ever and preparing to go tropical for the holidays with Descartes) and how quickly my fingers can work. There will be sewing, baking, slicing, dicing, and yes, knitting. None of it can be displayed here until after gifts have been given out (who wants to spoil the surprise?) but believe you me, my camera will be busy documenting the fun. Isn't it lovely when a gift can bring pleasure to the gifter and the gifted?

What's your latest jag?

Priority Shift

I'm a few weeks into my 100-mile food challenge, and I am nowhere near eating 100% local. But my awareness is growing keen, and for better or for worse, I am ten times more conscious of my food-miles than I was before I started.

Descartes is overwhelmed at work and feeling sick and tired all the time, and I want to help him at least hang onto some health, give him lots of options for quick, healthy foods that he can pack with him, or eat in front of the fridge when he's in between jobs. If I can stave off his recent habit of downing boxes of Cheez-Its, sandwich cookies and pizza, I do believe he'll feel a little better.

So last night after he'd gone to bed (at 9pm) I made a list of foods I planned to buy, and I emailed it to him (yes, I really did) for approval, which he gave. I thought of every good/quick food I could, being mindful of foods he won't eat - like meat or bone broth, or most things containing coconut - and foods I won't buy - soy and sugar. Here is my list:

hard-boiled eggs
apples, pears, oranges, bananas
raw veggies - sliced peppers, cherry tomatoes, celery and carrot sticks, cucumber slices, etc.
cottage cheese, mild cheddar & monterey jack cheese, string cheese
nuts (will be soaked and dried)
smoked salmon (Descartes makes this every year for Thanksgiving and it's delicious! we'll make extra this week)
hummus (homemade)
spicy bean dip (homemade)
salsa
corn chips
whole wheat bread
canned tuna/salmon
veggie soups (homemade and packed in single-serving tupperware)
whole-grain crackers

(After much hemming and hawing, I removed "smoothies" because these actually take time to prepare, which is unlikely to happen anytime soon, and because the way I make smoothies nutritious drinks (rather than liquid sugar) is the addition of coconut oil, raw milk (yogurt, kefir or coconut milk will also work), raw egg yolks, and both veggies and fruit. This will probably not go over well, since Descartes is still very much afraid of raw dairy and raw eggs.)

Anyway, you can bet I was a happy girl when I got the OK for this list, and I set out today to fill the kitchen with healthy fast food. I quickly realized that this trip would be a real departure from recent trips to the store, in that buying local wasn't going to be my only priority today. So far, if I've wanted something that can't be found locally, I've gone without. But going without for Descartes means leaning back on Cheez-Its and the like. So my priority was 1) local, 2) organic, 3) the best version I could buy, preferably from a small company. I ended up buying probably 25% local (but probably 50% in-state), and maybe 65% organic. All in all, it wasn't my ideal trip to the store, but if I can help get Descartes back on his feet, well, I suppose that's one of my highest priorities.

As I was looking for a picture to go along with this post, I found a cartoon of the earth with a heating pad on its head and a thermometer in its mouth...I wish all my priorities could be happily met without feeling that one has sacrificed another.

Week Two: Getting Better All The Time

This week I spent more time at home, thus more time in my own kitchen, therefore more time preparing food the origin of which I could know and control. This turns out to be a boon for someone who cares where their food originates. On Monday night I made dinner for a plumb-tuckered Descartes: salmon, green beans, and mashed potatoes. The salmon was a pre-commitment buy from Trader Joe's, originating in Chile or some crazy far-away place like that. But the rest came from our CSA or the co-op. To the mashed potatoes I added coconut oil, Clover butter, salt & pepper, local thyme, and both yogurt and cheese from my new raw milk suppliers in the foothills. The result was tangy goodness if you ask me; Descartes isn't partial to the very-sharp cheddar, but I love it.

On Tuesday I learned, while buying an onion at the co-op, how important it is to know the geography of your foodshed in order to stay in it. Was Hollister within 100 miles? Surely, no. How about Malaga? I didn't know. Taking a chance, I went with the Malaga onion...sorry to say, but it turns out Hollister is closer by 27 miles or so. These are times when I could use my Dad's new GPS device, which he has named Bitchin' Betty, both for its coolness and for the annoyed tone that the female voice takes on when he misses a turn..."Recalculating..."

Wednesday was Halloween, and a doozy of a day if you're looking for local treats that a) aren't chock full of high fructose corn syrup, hydrogenated soybean oil, and other outstanding food-like substances that just belong in a child's body, don't they??? And b) aren't homemade, since I don't know a single parent who will allow their child to eat a homemade treat from a neighbor they don't know. After much deliberating, I decided not to include Halloween candy in my 100-mile diet challenge...after all, I wasn't going to eat those treats, was I??? (I plead the Fifth.)

Instead I focused on what I was going to eat that night...that afternoon I had picked up my CSA box to find a bunch of radishes with greens intact for the second week in a row. An internet search to figure out clever ways to use radishes turned up an intriguing Radish Greens Soup, which was highly-rated by the one person who rated it. I decided to give it a try - off-the-cuff inspiration from Descartes turned it into a Coconut Curry Greens Soup...delicious. A friend dropped by for a minute, and when he came in he said, "It is your house that smells so good! I can smell it from the street, it smells amazing out there." I was proud. I couldn't resist taking a picture of the finished product. My friend found it amusing that I take pictures of dishes that turn out well (especially since I've recently recovered my camera). I guess I used to think it was weird, too, before I got a blog.

The rest of the week has gone fairly well...not perfect, but better. I think I'm getting the hang of this. More soon!

Week One of my 100-Mile Diet

started off poorly...I forgot how many breakfast, lunch and dinner meetings I had scheduled with friends and colleagues. Friday night was date night with Descartes, during which I managed to have no earthly idea where my food had flown in from. Saturday morning was my beacon of light (more later) but by Saturday night I was dining at the local sushi place with a good friend, eating fish that was likely caught in a far-off land, and likely not even caught, but farmed and harvested. Sigh. Monday was dinner with two old friends, at one of those newer theme-chain restaurants (the theme is something like French or Louisianan, but honestly the theme should be the Home of Giant People Who Love Giant Muffins). The rest of the week fared much better, with home-cooked meals and Wednesday's pick-up of our new CSA box - I could have sworn I read somewhere about using pomegranate seeds in a sauce...anyone?

But back to Saturday morning (please note my attempt to keep the farm and its owners anonymous and untraceable - see my most recent post about the growing hostility toward raw milk suppliers in CA). I left early-ish for my first visit to the local farm that would, hopefully, soon be my supplier of pastured dairy, eggs and meat. It was a clear morning, and after an uneventful drive south to Stockton, I headed east on a highway that wound its way through flats, then mounds, then hills and finally rolling, oak-covered foothills of golden grass. The scenery undulated under me as I took in the fresh country air, the Gold Country scenery, and finally the sign that indicated I had reached my destination. Two large, muddy dogs greeted me with a wary welcome, circling me until the farmer called them back to him. He was the only one awake so far this morning, and needed coffee. He called me in. After a half-hour at the kitchen table I knew far more about his work history and health issues than I had intended, and I found the conversation refreshingly slow-paced. "Shall we go visit the animals?" Sure.

Outside the bedroom window I met the cows, calves, chickens, goats, and pig that bed down each night just a few feet from their human stewards. Midnight, Lucy, and others nudged me and accepted my hand on their noses. The pig sniffed my purse for food and left muddy nostril marks. The goats jumped the fence and one another to get to the haypile near a second pen, which holds the steers and geese. "The steers are going to market next week...it's time," said the farmer in a way that was neither nonchalant nor nostalgic. I looked in their faces, determined to keep my eyes open through all parts of this farm tour. As I've said here before, if I'm going to eat meat, I'm going to be conscious of where it's coming from.

We moved back to the house to discuss business; the farmer's wife was up by then, and it turns out she really supervises things around here. These farmers are clearly nervous about the ramifications of selling raw milk in California, and determined to know me before signing a milkshare agreement. A milkshare is just about the only way for these farmers to sell the delicious raw milk, cheese, and butter that Lucy et al produce from the 103 acres they graze from day to day. I was ready to sign, but they wanted me to take home some of each and try it first, so I'll know what I'm getting. Turns out the wife talks a blue streak too, and she proceeded to tell me much of her work history and health issues, many of which led this family to retire from the city to the country, and return to the farming lifestyle their parents and grandparents had taught them. "We're not in farming to make money," the wife told me. "We have this farm so our children and grandchildren will always have good quality food no matter what. You benefit from the leftovers." Fair enough.

I left with a trunk full of food - a gallon of raw whole milk (the sweetest I've tasted), 1/2 pound of raw butter, a pound of the sharpest cheddar ever to pass between my lips (the farmer's wife made it three years ago and has been turning it over once a week since then, to keep it aging), a dozen eggs with deep orange yolks, and a pound of stew beef. All this, plus a promise of raw goat's milk once the goats have birthed their kids in January. My milkshare will be goat's milk, supplemented with cow's milk whenever the goats are dry.

I set out on a country road that winds its way along the edge of the foothills, north again toward home. I took all the historical routes, through Gold Rush town after Gold Rush town, feeling fulfilled and excited about my first local-food adventure. And then, just when I thought it couldn't get better, it got better. I spied a sign for fresh, homemade ravioli, at a little box of a building along the road. I don't know how long Vinciguerra Ravioli Co. has been gracing Jackson with its pillows of goodness, but I bought four boxes to add to my collection of local foods in the trunk.

By the time I got home I was hungry and ready for some yum. I cooked up a box of pumpkin ravioli just like John Vinciguerra instructed - at a slow boil, for only a few minutes so the ravioli don't burst (I only had two casualties). In the meantime I melted some butter with garlic and some sage from my side garden. Tossed together and sprinkled with grated Romano, it was heaven on a spoon. A rewarding end to an adventurous day of food.

Raw Milk in Jeopardy in California!

URGENT: Some serious deception has just taken place in the California Assembly, and Californians who value raw milk (and all its health benefits) need to take swift action to stop it!

Read all about it from Mark McAfee's point of view here, and also check out David Gumpert's excellent analysis here. Then write letters! Send them! And post a comment here letting me know that you did! I'm doing a mailing in the morning, and I'll post once I'm done, too.

Thanks, y'all.