Morning Commute Musings

Hm. sorry for this rant--sometimes a 45 minute bus ride makes you think, especially when you forgot a book to read...

Eating is one of the most sensual acts we do. We smell a food’s aromas, are enticed by its appearance, feel its textures, taste its sweetness, sometimes even hear it sizzling on the grill. Yet a lot of times we forget this--forget to experience the pleasure of biting into a just-picked apple, of sinking our teeth into a carefully roasted loin, or letting a thick spoonful of ice cream dissolve on our tongue. And the one reason I can think of that we forget to pause and enjoy what we're eating is that we've lost a connection with our food. Eating locally, I'm convinced, not only restores that connection, but allows us to truly enjoy what we're eating to the fullest extent.

Yet if there’s one thought I wish I could pound into my readers heads it’s this: eating local is not a challenge, it is a pleasure.

And I say this because I feel like the general sentiment regarding eating locally grown, purveyed, and produced food is along the lines of: sure it’s good in theory, but requires a considerable amount of effort in practice. Part of this stems from how we hear about these efforts—as many of the stories about eating locally frame the topic with a certain amount of time. James and Alisa, of 100milediet.org undertook a strictly local diet for a year. Others have followed suit with local food challenges that have lasted a week or a month (see, for example, Pennywise Eat Local Challenge).

Just a caveat before I continue--I’m a bit torn about writing a blog post about why eating locally shouldn’t be viewed as a challenge, because there are a lot of people out there who have undertaken some sort of local food challenge--pledging to eat locally for x amount of days--and I fully support their efforts. The reason I’m writing this is not to convince other people not to do this; it is to convince those of us who might not be interested in a challenge that it’s still a good idea to eat at least something, some time, locally. So here we go:

The thought of switching to an entirely local diet for a certain period of time is daunting. It requires a considerable amount of research—finding local farmers, producers, and businesses that roast, brew, assemble, and bake locally. It requires limiting your diet—because even the most bountiful of areas don’t have someone making/growing every type of food product. And it often involves sacrificing convenience, which little of us have the ability, or desire, to do. Again, this is not to say that it can't be done--I just don't think it's reasonable for the majority of people.

I guess my feelings on eating locally sit right up there with my personal feelings on vegetarianism or veganism, or on dieting in general: while there are many out there who are strictly adhering, I've never felt it's something I needed to try on an all-or-nothing basis. I don't think it's necessary to feel guilty about if you break the habit for a day, and not something that necessarily has to come with strict limits, rules, and restrictions--you can reap the benefits even if you only practice it loosely.

Again, I’m not saying undertaking a local food challenge is a bad thing for all of us. James and Alisa’s challenge needed to be done—it raised awareness about the issues involved and inspired countless others to start thinking locally. (And for inspiration I do recommend their website as well as their recent book: Plenty: One Man, One Woman and a Raucous Year of Eating Locally.) There are others for whom it is immensely practical--they live on a farm, or belong to a co-op, or raise their own food. And there are many benefits if you are already a socially conscious person who finds it easy to switch over to eating local-only food. It raises awareness, forces you to explore, and to step out of your comfort zone. But for the rest of us, making such a dramatic shift is just not that easy.

But don't let that deter you! I can’t help but fear that if eating locally is viewed merely as a challenge, the majority of people will simply choose never to undertake it, simply dismissing it as a big, seemingly insurmountable challenge that they have no interest in. And if you take a step back from things, on a global scale this is actually detrimental to the values and goals behind the local food movement! While some people eating 100% locally for one week, once, is a laudable achievement, it has far less of an impact than the majority of people eating somewhat locally all year round. But I’m distracting myself with the serious, when what I really hope to convey is the opposite. (I’ll save my tale of the planet, the greater health of the population, and the governmental policy for another day.)

The reason eating locally should be viewed as far from a challenge is because it is inherently enjoyable, even (or maybe especially) without a commitment. Tasting a tomato fresh off the vine, a strawberry that hasn't been bred for durability to be shipped 3000 miles, or a slab of bacon that has been cured in-house affords delight, discovery, and satisfaction. It doesn't matter whether you eat one local thing a month or 90% locally consistently--the pleasure is there every time you take a bite. And it is a pleasure everyone should experience.

Let’s look at my favorite moment of the week. Actually, the story starts on Sunday, so let me take you back a few days. Sunday evening, I headed to dinner at the Linkery, a slow-minded restaurant that focuses on serving "hand made cuisine" sourced from socially, environmentally, and health conscious purveyors (which also all happens to be delicious). Perusing the wine list, I noticed a meritage made in San Diego (from grapes grown in Baja), and decided to give it a whirl. I think there are at least 20 craft wineries in Southern California, but local wine is something I've not yet had the time to explore (partly because the local beer here is so amazing). So, I figured, why not start here, at one of the most purposefully-minded restaurants in the city.

With nothing to lose—my biggest disappointment could be that it was a sub-par wine, but I’d still enjoy drinking a locally-made beverage—I ordered it. Turns out the wine was delicious! It was a San Pasqual Meritage “Monte Soledad”. It was subtler than similar wines from Northern California, but had substantial body and just enough complexity to make each sip a pleasure. What a discovery!

Fast forward to yesterday, when I decided to look up the winery to see where I could get my hands on a bottle. Turns out the winery is not only located in San Diego, it is located in my neighborhood! I can't convey how excited I was to discover this. So on Monday, finding a list of independent liquor stores and wine shops that carry San Pasqual wines, I set out to one a few blocks away, and found, not one, but three San Pasqual wines (a merlot, cabernet, and chardonnay), all - get this - for $5 a bottle. The entire excursion—from a Google search to opening a bottle—took about 20 minutes, cost $15, yet afforded enormous delight! There's just something so rewarding in discovering something that you never before knew about, that you thoroughly enjoy, and that you realize also happens to be good for both the planet and your community.

I can’t emphasize enough how much you have to find this out for yourself. I encourage everyone who's reading this to seek out your own San Pasqual--maybe not tomorrow, or next week, but sometime this season. Keep your eyes open wherever you are, because I'm convinced local treasures abound.

In the mean time, here’s the delicious, and incidentally very much local meal I prepared in celebration of that bottle of wine:

Tortilla Espanola accompanied by San Pasqual “Cabrillo” Cabernet Sauvignon

Ingredients

2 tbsp. butter

1 lb. potatoes, cut into 1/2 inch dice (I used freshly dug local baby German Butter Ball potatoes)

½ onion, diced (I used a mix- ½ of a local Imperial Sweet onion and 2 local baby red onions)

2 strips bacon (not local-what was sitting in my fridge)

1 tomato (I used local heirloom from Carlsbad)

4 eggs (I used local free-range from Eben Hazer ranch)

¼ cup parmesan cheese (not local—the average grated stuff I had in the fridge)

Salt and pepper to taste

Directions:

Preheat broiler. In a cast iron skillet or other oven-safe skillet, melt 1 tbsp of butter over medium heat. Add potatoes, and cook, covered, for 10-20 minutes, until cooked through but not yet tender. Stir occasionally to flip potatoes. (If the potatoes get too brown, turn down the heat). Add the onions and cook 5 minutes longer, until potatoes are barely tender and onions are soft. If using cast iron skillet, turn off heat but keep above same burner (the cast iron will retain the heat--if using other skillet you may want to keep the heat on low). Add tomatoes, salt and pepper, and cover, so the mixture continues to cook from heat of skillet. In separate pan, cook bacon until crisp. Chop bacon into small pieces. In bowl, whisk together eggs, cheese, salt and pepper. Add bacon to egg mixture. Remove potato mixture from skillet. Melt remaining tbsp of butter over medium heat, and add egg mixture. Carefully scoop potato mixture into eggs so evenly distributed. Cook, covered, over medium heat for 5 minutes, until bottom is set but top is runny. Carefully lift the skillet into the broiler and broil, uncovered for 3-4 minutes, until top is golden brown. Let sit for 5 minutes. Slice into 4- 6 wedges and serve.