Good Food is Everybody's Business
All about growing and making good food, including gardening, foraging, gleaning, processing and cooking.
My job description now looks a lot like Western Maryland’s local food scene at a glance; I’ve pieced together full-time work by reaching out to surrounding small towns. Between the farm, the hotel, the restaurant, and the creamery, it involves a lot of driving, plenty of good people, and a whole lot of good food.
What do you really know about the food on your plate and where it came from? Today’s exercise in the provenience of our food – who grew it, who processed it, who sold it?
It’s worthwhile examining our dependence on canned goods during a season when the lack of sunshine coincides with a shortage of fresh produce at the market. The days are shorter and colder, and popping open a can of soup is just too easy when you need a quick, hot meal. But the difference between fresh and canned extends far beyond the method of preparation.
One year ago I was working three jobs. I pulled espresso at a coffee shop and shelved armloads of romance novels at a bookstore. At my favorite job, I’d whip up elaborate breakfasts for sleepy-eyed travelers at a local B&B. We ate well and life was good.
Why would I make noodles when I can pop into my neighborhood grocery and get them for less than $2 a pound? And that question has a logical answer: Because if I make them, they are fresh, and I know exactly what goes into them.
I am by no means an expert on sprouting. There are whole webpages dedicated to the task, online forums full of people sharing the outcomes of their home-kitchen experiments – from novice sprouters like me to expert enthusiasts. I was thrilled to find that the sprout community is just as active as that of the bread bakers and cheese makers. More proof that people are taking an active role in their food – and with sprouts, it’s literally seed-to-plate.
At this time of year in Vermont the animals are devoting what energy they have to staying warm. When the hens do lay eggs, they’re often frozen before we get to them. Some chickens have even developed frost-bite, so we stopped opening the doors for them in the mornings – they’re literally cooped up.
