Rolling on a River of Love

The first Sunday in February 2012. A new year, a new day.

It's been over a year since I've been in this blogging world. As you can see from my last entry, I got a little discouraged by the locavore life attempt. This morning I am reflecting on how my locavore experiment exploded in my face. The experience was like jumping into the icy waters of Lake Michigan where I grew up in the middle of February. The stinging reality of that cold water was just a little more than I could handle. (I'm not a big fan of cold plunges by the way.)

Growing food to meet our needs in the southwest is just REALLY difficult. Way more difficult than doing it in the bread belt of the Midwest where my formative years were spent. Sure, Native peoples feed themselves successfully for hundreds or thousands of years in the southwest on a diet of squash, beans, corn, wild edibles and bison. But the other piece of that puzzle is they didn't do it for very long -- they had a life span of 30-40 years on average. As I am 37, I would be dead or well on my way there with that diet. A fact I could handle if I hadn't already been expecting to live until I am 80.

So what did I learn from my locavore experiment and where am I now with all of this you ask? Let me fill you in...

1) TIMING IS EVERYTHING and DO THE RESEARCH FIRST

My advice for you all is not to start the desert locavore life in Februrary. Get your feet and your pallet wet by starting at the height of the growing season when the successes are many and the research not so hard. Having said that, whatever time of year you start, do the research before you begin being a locavore at all, otherwise it is just an experiment in frustration. Trying to find a source  of local wheat may take you a few weeks, so if you don't want to give it up, or do not yet have the cooking skills and knowledge to work with the limited alternatives, you'll want to know where you can get it before you engage being a locavore. Otherwise you'll get discouraged at how many trips to the grocery store for wheat shipped in from Egypt you'll have to make.

Luckily, I work at an organization where researching being a locavore is part of the work that we do, so I put my staff on creating a locavore guide. Unfortunately, as none of them had themselves dived deeply into bring a locavore, the end product wasn't super useful to me. But we are working on improving it. So, you may want to wait to enter the locavore world in Santa Fe until we publish that guide if you don't want to spend months doing that research yourself. Otherwise, give yourself a couple months to do the research before you jump in. Start by going through your cupboards and deciding what you can and can't live without. Then make a list of those things you need or want. Then start by educating yourself on seasonal availability of foods. Visit the local co-op, see what they have available at any given time of year, talk to the produce and the bulk departments to see what else they might be able to get you on a seasonal basis. Visit the farmer's market and talk with the farmers - especially those that have fresh produce in the dead of winter. Research the farmer's market website for clues on which farmers are part of their network and what they offer. Ask your friends, call local food-related organizations. Keep in mind that condiments and grains tend to be the hardest to source. Learn how to make your own ketchup.

2) JOIN A CSA
There is no substitute for growing your own food as that is really the only way to know where your food is coming from and how it was grown. But, Steve Warshawer of Beneficial Farms now has me convinced that backyard gardeners and local farmers each have a role to play in a local food system -- and we can't, and shouldn't do it without the other. Gardeners can focus on the specialty items they can grow more easily in the microclimates they are able to create in their yards like tomatoes and herbs. Farmers than can be freed up to grow those items that need a lot of space - like grains, protein, etc. Together we might be able to come up with a complete diet a la MyPlate -- the new and much simplified nutritional guide recently released by the USDA. That said, join a CSA that specializes in local food. I joined Beneficial Farms CSA a few months ago. It is a co-op CSA utilizing farmers within 300 miles -- meeting my desert locavore standards for food miles. This has provided me with a supply of organic wheat and quinoa that I had no idea where to get on my own. It has taken the pressure off of me a bit in terms of sourcing local food as they are doing a bunch of it for me and 50 other families at the same time. I highly recommend joining a CSA as part of your locavore package.

3) COMMUNITY

George Strait is singing to my heart this morning from the playlist on the iPod my husband left in my car for me to listen to. I'm in a very different place this morning...rolling on a river of love really. Although there is still no water in the river near our house this year, I have been blessed with a growing connection to my community (specifically my neighbors), lots of learning, and patience. Find a few like-minded home/land owners and plan with them on what crops you can each grow and share with each other. Share bulk buying and split up the consumer research. Enjoy meals together and plan impromptu potlucks from whatever is available in the garden. You'll grow more food and grow life-long friendships in the process.

2) SOIL and WATER

A friend of mine who is an ecology professor at UWC here in Las Vegas, NM believes that the carrying capacity of this desert region won't even provide for the number of people that currently live here. So there is that when considering building a local, sustainable food system. Our two big limiting factors are soil and water. We don't have much of either of those, and without them growing food for a state of even 2 million is challenging. The reality of soil building in Santa Fe at the moment, is that it is entirely dependent upon the input of materials from the industrial agriculture system. Not to mention when you lay it down in the spring, the wind blows it away almost immediately (be sure to cover your compost with heavy mulch immediately). Readily available sources for compost in Santa Fe include horse manure and kitchen waste. Most kitchen waste originates from imported food sources, and horses are fed a steady diet of alfalfa shipped in from Texas or even farther away locations. Part of being a locavore requires going against the grain and being limited by the status quo food system. Get comfortable with compromise and do the best you can.

At this point in time, I am not working exclusively on being a locavore. I'm am attacking the whole sustainable lifestyle one piece at a time. Last month my husband and I had a successful buy nothing month. When practicing buy-nothing, you really have to watch yourself with online shopping. I somehow blanked out that I am actually shopping when doing it online as I am in the comfort of my living room rather than in a store with beeping of the cash register to awaken my senses as to what I am doing.

Working on living sustainably in the United States is a life-time endeavor. My main focus now if to make sure I am enjoying the ride!

I hope you will share the tips and wisdom have you learned on this journey in the comments.

Christina

Dark Night

Obviously, if you haven't already guessed, this little eat-everything-local experiment has been put on hold. What ridiculous expectations I have of this world thinking that one person working full time and raising children can figure out how to eat everything locally. This is definitely where the road hits the wall in terms of individual action. I salute all you radical homemakers out there that have time to sew your own canvas bags for produce, make pizza from scratch on friday nights, and bargain shop at the farmer's market. You know what I want to spend my time doing these days? Sleeping! I'm frickin' exhausted trying to keep up with this silly American lifestyle of career woman, working mom, supportive wife, friend to all. Just getting a moment to weed the garden is a luxury these days. When I decided to expand my garden to grow all my own food - even enough to can for the whole winter - I guess I forgot that the last time I could garden all day was when I was on full-time maternity leave. Although on a positive note my tomatoes are doing smashing. Someone will have to come over and can them all when they are ripe - I won't have time.

Not to mention the cost. We are already living beyond our means - and buying local currently means expensive! Farmer's just hiked their prices a the market. It's almost unbearably expensive. I started looking at Sunflower and Smith's for deals. I will start working part time next month. It'll likely be bye-bye organic, not to mention local then.

It's 11:30 and my toddler just woke up crying for mommy and is now taking every book and toy off his shelf and piling them on the floor. Next he'll pace the floor talking about "grasshoppers coming!" My husband thinks I shouldn't go in there. I say tought doodie hubby. 2 minutes of cuddling and he'll be back to sleep rather than an hour of toddler silliness and crying.


I'm not impressed with the green food movement. We can do better. Makes me want to move back to the subsistence village in Panama where growing your own food actually is a viable option - as long as you like eating only rice for days at a time.

See ya'll later when we all stop trying to lead these crazy lifestyles - I certainly can't do it alone.

P.S. This doesn't mean I am giving up, just lowering my personal expectations - ALOT!

Framing the Cold

My tomatoes have gotten too large to keep on their indoor growing racks. They are starting to bend over to fit on their shelves. So I made a make-shift cold frame out of strawbales and recycled sunroom windows we picked up from the second hand pile behind Brother Sun window shop.

I actually decided this year to follow John Jeavons' (How to Grow More Vegetables on Less Land Than You Thought Possible - or something like that) advice and prick out my seedling plants twice. Once from the flats into small pots and the second time from their pots into the ground. The real test is still yet to come - putting them in the ground. But they are looking great so far. Next year I think I'll do a third round for the tomatoes from 2" pots to 4". They are ready now for that, but since the last frost date is only a week away, they'll have to bide their time just a little longer. The tomatoes that I didn't have pots for transplanting into remain small and spindly as all of my plants were last year. The transplanting makes a true difference.

Arriving Flavors

I love Mondays. I make a habit of saving Mondays from work and using them for weekend recovery. I stay home to catch up on life, sustainable living, and the joys of mothering my son Clayton. And I try to stay off the computer.

We had a fun and busy weekend. Saturday started with an essential trip to the farmer's market (now that we are officially locavores, we must not miss the market), then joined a political puppet parade and pageant for May Day, followed by a few moments in the sun pulling crab grass from the asparagus patch, chatted with a visiting friend from Colorado, and ended the evening with ceremony. Sunday morning we woke up late and rushed out the door for a cheesemaking workshop in Estancia, NM at Old Windmill Dairy, followed by a blessed hour on the couch doing nothing, and another attempt at dinner without a recipe to guide me in preparing the day's local fare.

One of the greatest things I have heard yet this year was when Sir Kennith Robertson asked the audience I was sitting in to consider for ourselves how we are creative rather than how creative are we.  Think into that for a moment, it is quite profound given western culture's view of creativity as exclusive to a gifted few.

I'm a recipe girl. I play my guitar by reading music, I sew using patterns, I do Yoga with an instructor, I follow directions when building things, I check my books often when gardening. My creativity does not flow from practical things until I have year's of experience at it that I can stop thinking about it. My more natural creativity comes from the universe, through the soft spot on my head, straight to my intellect. I create and manifest what is not tangible. I take a vision of the future and make it a reality. But not a practical reality - an educational, social, cultural, political, paradigmatic reality. This necessitates that I keep my hands in the dirt often, otherwise my head gets so heavy it knocks me over.

Cooking is not yet a successful creative experience for me. So, when cooking I prefer to follow a recipe or things turn out pretty bland. My joy in cooking comes when I follow the Joy of Cooking for great tasting meals. The stuff I make up on the fly usually doesn't inspire great complements or sparkling reactions from my pallet or my husband's.

This is turning out to be my greatest challenge so far in being a locavore. For years I really haven't done a whole lot of cooking. I'm only just getting to know how to cook meat after years of being a vegetarian. And while I was a vegetarian I mostly ate grilled cheese and lasagna. Seasonal recipe books for my agro eco-region are in short supply. Most American families don't really study the art of cooking I've noticed. I've thought about taking a cooking class at the college to give me more of a foundation to work with, but I haven't determine where that fits into my full-time working and mommying schedule. So, learning what goes together to conjure up flavorful inspirations without guidance from one of my many cookbooks is a big challenge for me.

As my pallet slowly adjusts to local, seasonal-only fare, I have begun to realize that with local food,  I can rely more on the natural flavor of things. Things that go from garden to plate in a matter of minutes don't need a lot of accoutrement of any kind. My experience with the first asparagus of the season from my garden clued me into that secret kept from me by my global-industrial-food system-adjusted pallet.

That said, local flavors in April are in a bit of short supply thus far in my experience. This Saturday I bought a pound of spinach, seven over-wintered potatoes, five overwintered apples, the first tiny beets and carrots of the season, white radishes, sunflower sprouts, arugula, salad greens, greenhouse-grown heirloom tomatoes, Nativo (all local ingredients) bread, bacon and some  beef.

All good stuff. But not great. Except for the radishes that did surprise me with their zesty spring-time bite. But as for the rest, I have to say I excitedly await July when the full flavor roles in and returns to these sorry step-cousins of the glorious summer time vegetables!

Don't get me wrong. I am grateful we even have a spring time farmer's market in Santa Fe. And I am especially grateful for the heroic efforts our local farmers are making to extend the growing season in this desert that makes being a locavore even a remote possibility. But I LOVE the summer farmer's market and its abundance of flavors. Nothing makes my taste buds ring like Gemini Farm's beets, or the short-lived onslaught of japanese turnips sliced and tossed with their own greens in homemade vinegrette. Yum! It makes being an untrained American home cook a lot easier.

In the meantime, I'll continue to be grateful for the peach colored carrots and the fact that we are still draining my cupboard of leftover non-local items that add a little extra something in a season of arriving but still scarce flavors.

On another note, chesses never cease to fail this time of year. Flavor may change slightly on some dairy farms in winter or mating season (I'll blog later about what I learned at the cheesemaking workshop about why that is). But the high buttermilk content of Ed and Micheal's nubian goats at Old Windmill makes for some delicious chesse varieties anytime of year. Especially the incredibly delicious blue cheese they make. At $20/pound it doesn't necessarily fit into my budget. But given all the challenges and costs of running a small local dairy farm, their seven year-old operation is not even turning a profit yet. The local consumer vs. local farmer buget is a conversation for another blog. Right now I'm happy to give my support and anty up for the flavor rockin' blue as long as I have the dollars in my pocket. It is every bit worth the price.

No Impact Man Southwest

Wow! I am watching No Impact Man. They just switched off the lights. Good for them. They are doing what I learned to do while living in Panama with the Peace Corps. And what my entire village is still doing. And what most of the world is doing right now while I sit here with two computers on - one playing the movie and one for late night work projects (or blogging in this case) - and a lamp and wood burning in the woodstove, refrigerator running, music playing in Clayton's room, little glowing lights everywhere charging mobile electronics and sucking phantom power, wireless internet blinking in the back room, mini-hot tub keeping itself warm on the porch, irrigation timers running on their batteries to water the garden, solar powered lights lighting the pathway from car to door. So all that energy is coming from the solar tracker in our yard, but still. American ways of living lightly are still on a whole other level than the rest of the world. I have grown soft since my return to the U.S.

I also watched a movie called End of Poverty? earlier tonight. (Getting my documentary fix). It's like Open Veins of Latin America on screen. If everyone in the world lived like Americans it would take 5 planets to support us. Okay, so I have heard that one before. But on the other end of the spectrum - if everyone lived like they do in Burkina Faso, we would need 1/10th of our planet. I hadn't heard that before. Measured by mass, there are more ants on the planet than humans.

I like that they did their No Impact project in phases. We're still eating up the non-local fare leftover in our cupboards and freezer. I have one can of pickled beets, half can of peaches, and a few jars of homemade jelly left in my cupboard from last year's garden harvest. Luckily the farmer's market is picking up and the co-op too. The co-op is trying with the 300 mile radius, but they aren't quite there yet. They're still selling stuff from Mexico. I guess that's better than New Zeland kiwi at WF. The co-op selection is improving with the season - more options in the produce section I should say. My peas actually came up! My tomatoes on the growing rack are looking much better than they did last year. I gave them a boost of fish emulsion recommended by farmer Romero for flats.

I'm having fun with this project. I'm very much looking foward to the summer adundance in the farmer's market. And I find myself still wanting to do more and have more time to do more. Who knows, if they economy keeps plummeting in NM I might have a lot of time on my hands. But learning to do this while working full-time is a great challenge too.

Sunday Dinner

Tonight for our locavore dinner we are eating lion's mane mushrooms ($24 for two large bags), asparagus ($4/bunch), fresh salad greens ($8 big bag), radish sprouts (holy cow they are spicy!) ($3) with overwintered carrots ($4) and goat cheese ($5) - all purchased at the Saturday Santa Fe Farmer's Market. Since we are still cleaning out of fridge and freezer the non-locavore fare included:  puerco adobado made by my friend and neighbor Tanya for a Community College Culinary Arts event last fall. It has been in my freezer since - yikes! Thanks T! Shitake Seseame salad dressing (CA), lemons, and olive oil (CA), balsamic vinegar (CT). The butter came from our raw milk butter supplier from Texas. We'll have the popcorn for desert. So dinner is about 90% local. Hmm...the condiments might be a challenge to find locally.

The lion's mane mushrooms is a gourmet treat grown by Desert Fungi. My husband thinks it taste like crab. I think they taste like gourmet mushrooms. We tried them a number of ways (all sauteed):
1) with olive oil only
2) with olive oil and balsimic vinegar
3) with butter and salt
4) with butter and balsamic
5) sauteed with olive oil then sprinkled with fresh lemon juice after out of the pan
6) with butter only

My favorite was butter and balsamic. My husband liked them with the lemon juice. Whatever you do remember Julia Child's advice when you cook them "don't crowd the mushrooms!"

Buen Provecho!

And So It Begins

And so the desert locavore adventure begins. Today we ate our first asaparagus dish of the season. Straight out of the ground, sauteed lightly in the pan with water only and then straight to the plate. No butter or garlic necessary. Delicious. I've never tasted something so fresh. (Especially after a long winter of wanna-be vegetables). I love spring!