my romantic notions

I recognize that there is something more than a little romantic about eating only food from near our home -- even if it is a reasonably large area -- hanging out with farmers, touching the dirt, noticing our food, reaping the local bounty.

I observed and learned farming to be a brutal, oppressive life - distinct in its hardship and unhappiness. Always in Black & White with a dust covered man in overalls sternly glancing at his wheat, willing it to grow. Too many ugly dust bowl images in the collective memory, i imagine. Nothing seemed at all beautiful about the process or the lifestyle of growing and understanding food.

Farming was the life of poor old men -- a dying breed.

Never had I seen a bright woman, sparkling eyes and mischievous smile, raising a fist full of dark hearty greens, standing amidst damp sunny colorful fields of edibles.

I don't know if I've actually ever seen that, but that is my mental image now. I know it is trying work, difficult at best, poverty inducing almost always. But happy and brilliant, nonetheless. I want to support that vision of food growing. Local people who work hard, love the dirt and cultivate the kind of food that everyone should have access to.

Local eating is about me reaching out to the growers, the producers, the people who see the food through the process all the way to my door. Building a community around something so simple, honest and fucking critical.

It is going to be hard for me -- I am a sugar addict. I generally eat a lot of food that is kind of gross if you think about it too much. Even if the food is delicious -- I don't want to be disgusted when i think about what i am putting in my mouth and digesting into my body. so here I go, armed with excitement, a clean palette and four other brave ladies who will face the challenge with me.

kari