sustain such luxury and impracticality?
Michael Pollan writes in his introduction to The Omnivoreâs Dilemma, ââEating is an agricultural act,â as Wendell Berry famously said. It is also an ecological act, and a political act, too. Though much has been done to obscure this simple fact, how and what we eat determines to a great extent the use we make of the worldâand what is to become of it.â I find myself shopping in Whole Foods with mixed feelings, both guiltily seduced by and indignantly aghast at the piles and mounds of perfect, beautiful fruits and vegetables that have come from around the world, out of season, trucked and flown in and wrapped in plastic. Avocados from California, red peppers from South America, fish from Alaska, lamb from New Zealand. This canât last, Iâve always thought; itâs not possible. As it is, only the relatively wealthy can afford to buy even conventionally grown green peppers from Mexico at $3.89 a pound.
Aside from growing your own vegetables, one excellent solution, of course, is to get them from a local farm stand or farmersâ market. But the best thing to do might be to buy directly from the farmers and fishermen. CSA (community-supported agriculture) shares are widely available all over Maine, thanks to the strong ties between farmers and their local communities. Black Kettle Farm, half an hourâs drive outside Portland, delivers weekly boxes full of freshly picked seasonal produce to the cityâs Eastern Promenade from spring (asparagus) through fall (squash). And there are also similar shares in fishermenâs weekly catches: Salt & Sea is one such seafood-share program, called a CSF (community-supported fishery), and all the seafoodyou get is local, freshly caught, and sustainable, âfrom the docks of Portlandâs working waterfront to you.â
Maine has a bounty of food, right here; you just have to be willing to grow it or find it. No need to eat an overpriced pepper shipped all the way from Mexico if youâre willing to wait until theyâre in season here. And âlocal and in seasonâ is not a trendy urban catchphrase in Maine; itâs the best and most sensible way to eat, even in this region with its famously long winters, since the arts of preserving and canning and freezing never died out, because many people have always depended on them to get through the winter without starving.
However, that day in Whole Foods, being new to this area, not having committed to a CSA share yet, we paid $264 for five sacks of food and wine, loaded it all into the Subaru, and drove the hour and fifteen minutes back to the White Mountains. That night, putting on a pot of Jacobâs Cattle beans to soak for the next dayâs baked beans, I kept thinking about what the fresh-faced, wide-eyed young guy at Whole Foods had said. He really meant it, earnestly, without ironic hipster self-mockery or smug hippie self-righteousness: âDoesnât it feel good to eat this way?â
Yes, sweet, wholesome checkout man at the Whole Foods in Portland, Maine, it does, and Iâm very, very grateful that I can.
Wicked-Good Lamb Burgers
Because the local farm near the farmhouse had no lambs that year, we bought some ground lamb at Whole Foods, flown all the way from New Zealand. We also bought Canyon Bakehouse gluten-free hamburger buns, which are from Colorado and are the best Iâve ever found. Brendan picked a handful of mint from right outside the door; that, at least, was local.
To 1 lb. ground lamb, add:
1/2 large onion, minced
8 garlic cloves, minced
a small handful each of minced fresh mint and cilantro
1 T harissa spice mix
1 tsp each of salt and black pepper
1 T olive oil
a dash of Worcestershire sauce
Form 4 patties. Fry in oil over medium heat, about 7 minutes a side. Serve on toasted buns with a sauce made of the following ingredients, mixed well:
2 T mayo
4 T ketchup
a dollop each of apple
Michael Pollan writes in his introduction to The Omnivoreâs Dilemma, ââEating is an agricultural act,â as Wendell Berry famously said. It is also an ecological act, and a political act, too. Though much has been done to obscure this simple fact, how and what we eat determines to a great extent the use we make of the worldâand what is to become of it.â I find myself shopping in Whole Foods with mixed feelings, both guiltily seduced by and indignantly aghast at the piles and mounds of perfect, beautiful fruits and vegetables that have come from around the world, out of season, trucked and flown in and wrapped in plastic. Avocados from California, red peppers from South America, fish from Alaska, lamb from New Zealand. This canât last, Iâve always thought; itâs not possible. As it is, only the relatively wealthy can afford to buy even conventionally grown green peppers from Mexico at $3.89 a pound.
Aside from growing your own vegetables, one excellent solution, of course, is to get them from a local farm stand or farmersâ market. But the best thing to do might be to buy directly from the farmers and fishermen. CSA (community-supported agriculture) shares are widely available all over Maine, thanks to the strong ties between farmers and their local communities. Black Kettle Farm, half an hourâs drive outside Portland, delivers weekly boxes full of freshly picked seasonal produce to the cityâs Eastern Promenade from spring (asparagus) through fall (squash). And there are also similar shares in fishermenâs weekly catches: Salt & Sea is one such seafood-share program, called a CSF (community-supported fishery), and all the seafoodyou get is local, freshly caught, and sustainable, âfrom the docks of Portlandâs working waterfront to you.â
Maine has a bounty of food, right here; you just have to be willing to grow it or find it. No need to eat an overpriced pepper shipped all the way from Mexico if youâre willing to wait until theyâre in season here. And âlocal and in seasonâ is not a trendy urban catchphrase in Maine; itâs the best and most sensible way to eat, even in this region with its famously long winters, since the arts of preserving and canning and freezing never died out, because many people have always depended on them to get through the winter without starving.
However, that day in Whole Foods, being new to this area, not having committed to a CSA share yet, we paid $264 for five sacks of food and wine, loaded it all into the Subaru, and drove the hour and fifteen minutes back to the White Mountains. That night, putting on a pot of Jacobâs Cattle beans to soak for the next dayâs baked beans, I kept thinking about what the fresh-faced, wide-eyed young guy at Whole Foods had said. He really meant it, earnestly, without ironic hipster self-mockery or smug hippie self-righteousness: âDoesnât it feel good to eat this way?â
Yes, sweet, wholesome checkout man at the Whole Foods in Portland, Maine, it does, and Iâm very, very grateful that I can.
Wicked-Good Lamb Burgers
Because the local farm near the farmhouse had no lambs that year, we bought some ground lamb at Whole Foods, flown all the way from New Zealand. We also bought Canyon Bakehouse gluten-free hamburger buns, which are from Colorado and are the best Iâve ever found. Brendan picked a handful of mint from right outside the door; that, at least, was local.
To 1 lb. ground lamb, add:
1/2 large onion, minced
8 garlic cloves, minced
a small handful each of minced fresh mint and cilantro
1 T harissa spice mix
1 tsp each of salt and black pepper
1 T olive oil
a dash of Worcestershire sauce
Form 4 patties. Fry in oil over medium heat, about 7 minutes a side. Serve on toasted buns with a sauce made of the following ingredients, mixed well:
2 T mayo
4 T ketchup
a dollop each of apple
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