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The Evolution of Fresh Food

Culinate

The evolution of fresh food

Going back to the land — or at least to the farmers’ market

Published by Culinate January 19, 2012

Ten years ago, when I got a job managing a farmers’ market, a friend scoffed, “Nobody grows food around here anymore!”

“Well,” I countered, confused and uncertain, “at least 10 people do, and they’re bringing their food to the city every Saturday.”

Today that market is bursting at the seams, with almost 60 vendors and thousands of weekly visitors. Across the country, the number of operating farmers’ markets has more than doubled in the past decade. More and more Americans are growing their own vegetables at home, including First LadyMichelle Obama. And new artisanal-food and local-food ventures keep launching, even in this stricken economy.

The farmers’ market is a good place to find green food.

I don’t run the market anymore, but I watch from the sidelines, impressed. I couldn’t have imagined that so many people would become familiar with fresh, locally grown food. I had no clue thatlocavorism would become so popular that both McDonald’s and Walmartwould appropriate the idea, proclaiming which of their ingredients and products were locally sourced.

Will this love for fresh food last? Or will “local” soon be forgotten, the next victim of fashion?

Olestra pancakes with backyard zucchini, anyone?

When I was growing up in the 1970s, the back-to-the-land movement was vacuuming people out of cities and depositing them in the country. I played with homesteaders made of plastic, pushing the long-haired mom and dad of the Sunshine Family on a pedal-powered family tricycle, helping the dolls move their garden tools over patches of grass in the yard.

Winter food.

 

I wasn’t aware of the community gardens that were springing up in many cities. Or the 1973 oil crisis that spiked food prices and drove people to plant vegetable gardens. Or the food-safety problems caused by widespread pollution, chemicals, and contaminants allowed by a weak FDA.

I didn’t know that the city nearest to me — Troy, New York — was making Troy-Bilt rototillers (90,000 of them in 1978 alone) and helping people pursue food self-sufficiency with these machines. Garden Way, the Troy-Bilt parent company, also published books to show customers how to use their products. (The books are now published by Storey Publishing.)

I’ve learned all this in the last few years, as I’ve gotten more interested in gardening and preserving food. My local library has books both old and new on these topics; digging deeper, I’ve found scholarly titles on the back-to-the-land movement that trace the term all the way back to the late 1800s and early 1900s. I knew that my generation didn’t invent gardening, but learning that we didn’t invent urban agriculture — well, that was a shock.

Will the current interest in DIY and local food production last? It’s hard to directly compare the very urban growth of CSA memberships and farmers’ markets with the very rural trend in the 1970s of going off the grid entirely, leaving both society and commerce behind.

Yes, plenty of people are food-swapping and yard-sharing and otherwise bracing themselves for a time when time is a more valuable commodity than cold hard cash. But this grow-it-yourself moment is largely rooted in the commercial market. After all, people who identify with the modern movement for fresh foods can be as gaga about what they can buy as what they can make themselves.

Of course, the urban-homesteading strand of this great big love for fresh is less affected by consumer choices. Still, many people who are devoted to fresh are happy to be part of the retail loop. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing; it might even make it more sustainable than the idea-driven leaps of yore.

The question of the market’s role came up recently while talking with a friend who has worked at two prominent farms in New York: Stone Barns and Hawthorne ValleySara Worden is an artist and a young farmer. When I asked her to compare the 1970s and now, she said that her generation is more market-driven. People are growing for markets, she said, choosing where to farm based on where they can sell. If they are going back to the land, they are doing so with monetary sustenance, not just self-sufficiency, in mind.

Markets have flowered.

Another conversation developed at a food swap.

“I think that there was a sense in the 1970s of removing yourself from society when you did this,” said Dianna Goodwin, who described herself as a former dilettante homesteader. “This whole thing about leaving mainstream consumer society — that’s just not there now. Some people who are moving out to the country are probably doing something more like that, but they’re also more market-oriented, which is good. You need to be able to support yourself.”

I carry these thoughts with me as I tour the farmers’ market and watch the exchanges of money, food, and friendship. Even in a recession, and with new farmers’ markets opening up nearby, the piles of vegetables and bread start tall and vanish by day’s end. In the crowd, I see older couples who used to keep big gardens. They never lost their taste for homegrown tomatoes, even if they aren’t growing them at home anymore.

Maybe awakened taste buds are all that the love for fresh food needs to survive.

Amy Halloran lives in upstate New York with her two sons, husband, and nine chickens. They garden their six city lots to have food for most seasons.

Ellie’s Cooking

Learning Brazillian Cooking at Oakwood.

Saturday I learned a million new things to cook!  Okay, it was far less than that, but it felt like an awful lot.

Ellie Markovitch taught a class on cooking with beans for Capital District Community Gardens.  Ellie is Brazilian, so that was the lens through which we looked at this staple.  “We eat our beans every day,” she said.

I became a fan of hers when I heard about what she was doing for her MFA in electronic arts at RPI – looking at food, cooking and stories, working with these elements to get at the art of community and communion.

Ellie and I have talked a lot about food, and shared our philosophies about cooking and eating. Shortly after we met, we taught a class in visual storytelling focused on food. We started a website together, StoryCooking.com, where she has built a wealth of food stories.  We taught a pancake class in the DIY Snackshop as part of the Uptown Summer program in North Central Troy.  We worked at separate stations, making two types of pancakes.

For all of our food related intersections, we hardly ever cook side by side.  We talk about it but never get to plans.  So when I heard about this cooking class I signed on to be her assistant.

Ellie taught us how to make Pao de Queijo, which I’ve tasted but always imagined were fried.  These little cheese balls get golden in the oven, though, and are made from Parmesan, Greek yogurt and tapioca starch.

Then she gave us a lesson in how to use a pressure cooker.  Everyone has horror stories about pressure cookers, and she invited people in the class to share theirs.  I didn’t tell mine – about the mother of my first boyfriend burning herself on steam when she chose to boil water in a pressure cooker – because it seems too grim.

After Ellie’s lesson, though, I’m thinking about getting a pressure cooker again.  I had one I didn’t quite trust, and gave it away.  The idea of getting beans on the table – and probably much more – in 20 minutes is very appealing.  So often I don’t have the forethought to get beans soaking and cooked, so I just cook vegetables for dinner.  I’m investigating what brand to buy.

The best thing I learned was Black Bean Soup – Caldo de Feijao Preto.  This is real fast food, if you have cooked beans.  The flavors explode way beyond anything I’ve ever had in that realm, though.  Ellie gave us recipes, but here is what I did for dinner that night.

Mash a few cloves of garlic with about a teaspoon of salt in a mortar in pestle.  Chop a large onion.  Add a tablespoon of ground cumin, a teaspoon of ground coriander, and a teaspoon of smoked paprika.  Mix these with a pound of dried beans that have been thoroughly cooked, and use a stick blender to puree.  Add reserved cooking liquid to thin to the consistency you like.

Serve this with cheiro verde, which is a mixture of chopped scallions, parsley and cilantro.  Add a drizzle of olive oil.  After you eat this, you will keep thinking about it, and want to eat your beans every day.

I made it last night at the Oakwood Community Dinner, which double dutied as my early birthday party.  I had five youth from the Produce Project and Hannah Savio to help me cook, and it was a delight!  All those hands in the kitchen really really take off the heat, and lets you make a lot of things: salad, rolls, two kinds of soup, and frosting.  Thanks for all the help, CDCG, and Barry, too!