Every Thursday evening at around 7 p.m., I begin checking outside my side door to see if the elves have made their delivery yet.
It's quite amazing: At one moment the brick stoop is empty. In the next, a rustic white-painted wooden box with a black lid sits waiting for me to bring it in to the kitchen.
I open it with an unfailing sense of awe and wonder. During the previous week, the elves have been traveling all over the countryside, seeking out the freshest and most delicious things to eat. This night's offering: some fantastically colored carrots, purple and yellow along with the more familiar orange; filets of local wild flounder, packed in ice; two young chickens, frozen. Under these lie a paper sack of all-purpose flour tied with twine; two tubs of hand-churned butter; a brown bag containing handsome-looking green beans; a scattering of full broccoli heads; and a carton of eggs.
My excitement amuses my children. Jeez mom it's just a box of groceries. I examine the carrots. Compared to their ordinary supermarket cousins, they look truly odd: Aside from the strange colors, they are gnarly and thin -- or wait, here's one that is bulgy and fat. I rinse and taste it over the sink -- sweet, earthy, crunchy-the flavor you think a carrot ought to have but never does. I offer a sample to our small carrot expert: she agrees and eagerly asks for another.
There's less enthusiasm for the fish. No matter: When I cook the filets the next day for their Dad and me -- dusting the filets with flour, salt and pepper, and doing not much else to them except sautéing them in some butter -- they will taste meltingly fresh and tender. And as I put the two chickens away in the freezer -- weekend supper -- I explain to the kids that these chickens actually walked in a farmyard amongst other farm animals in real daylight. (When I get around to roasting them, my husband will be impressed that the muscles attaching their legs to their body require vigorous carving to remove. They don't just fall apart. "Maybe they were doing walking lunges around the yard...?" he wonders.) The flour is unbleached and has been freshly ground in a mill, not a factory using a logo of a mill. And the eggs have come from the same kind of aforementioned chickens. I'm especially excited about the eggs. I'd tried my first fresh farm egg last summer, bought on vacation at a rural roadside stand: It was lighter in texture and color than a store-bought egg, and had much more flavor. Before then, I hadn't ever thought much about the taste of eggs or their degrees of egginess. I'd immediately scrambled another for my mother, with whom we were staying, and who was raised in small-town Australia. Her family had kept chickens in the backyard and...
"Oh my gosh, this tastes of my childhood!" she exclaimed before gobbling down the rest of the egg.
As I finish unpacking the box, I realize that I have actually stepped back into my mother's stories of a pre-refrigerated, pre-factory-farm world of food. She was born in 1935. Australia may have been a bit behind the modern curve by urban American standards of the time, but not by much. She remembers waking up from nightmares to the reassuring, early morning clip clop of the milkman's horse. Like my little farm box, the fresh bottles were left by the side door and the empties removed (or what we now call "recycled"). You had an "icebox" not a fridge or freezer -- something like the ancestor of the Coleman cooler. If a fruit or vegetable wasn't in season you didn't eat it unless it came in a can. Chickens were -- as my mother learned -- like house pets you put down less sentimentally than the family dog, and then ate. Beef was universally grass-fed and free-range; agricultural scientists hadn't yet figured out that it would be more efficient and cost-effective to pen thousands of them together, stuff them full of corn and hormones, and let them marinate in their own manure for a few months before grinding them up into mass-produced hamburgers.
I don't want to sentimentalize this period, obviously. And nor would my mother. In a time when cheap cuts of meat were less plentiful than they are today, she and her siblings were never allowed to leave the table until they had choked down their last piece of heart/kidney/liver or worse, rubbery tripe. There are vegetables to this day I can't persuade her to eat -- squash, for example -- because it was served to her as a canned watery mush when she was a child.
My farm box
And yet -- as I wash and put the box's contents away -- I'm struck by how much of what we are calling today the "farm-to-table" movement is really just a modern re-imagining, or re-invention, of a less industrialized time. The elves (okay full-disclosure: they are not really elves) who deliver my weekly container work for a nascent web-based company, Arganica Food Club. Like dozens of similar companies now popping up around the country, Arganica organizes food from regional farms for city-dweller consumption. Every Sunday I am sent an email with a spreadsheet attachment that lists the coming week's offerings. Most of it is seasonal produce and locally raised meat, but amongst the suppliers are also artisanal dip -- and cracker- makers, bakers, pasta impresarios, and even pre-fab homecooked meals for the time-pressed. I check off what I want, email it back, and then the order appears on my doorstep a few days later.
These companies are a natural progression from the now ubiquitous urban Farmer's Market: instead of waiting for the weekend -- or whatever day of the week is officially declared Market Day -- I can have the farmer's market brought to me. Not that I don't like going to the Farmer's Market -- there are still some products I can get only there that I can't get online (a local guy makes pastas and sauces that are to die for; ditto another stall that sells delicious cured meats). But essentially Arganica and others are doing what even Whole Foods is now too big to do: deliver truly fresh, truly local, truly organic foods that still taste of the place they were grown in.
In that sense we have reached maybe the perfect juncture of old and new: We have the technological abilities (read: modern refrigeration, appliances and online shopping) to achieve the maximum benefit -- and enjoyment -- from locally grown, fresh food. And the increasing awareness of this type of food's health benefits have led to a growing consumer demand, one that small companies such as Arganica are scrambling to meet.
But maybe the biggest remaining hurdle fresh food advocates face is the pervasive perception that to eat locally and healthily is somehow "elitist" -- not to mention more costly and time-consuming than buying fast or processed meals. The minute you purchase an organic apple, you are suddenly lumped among NPR-listening, NYT's crossword-puzzle-doing, out-of-touch-with-the-common-man liberals. As a conservative -- in the robust, Teddy Roosevelt tradition -- I am perpetually gobsmacked to find myself on the side of the political fence with people who are enraged that Michelle Obama is trying to introduce healthy foods into public schools -- or insist that the right to be obese and eat junk food can be found somewhere in the Constitution. When you think about it, these arguments against preparing meals from scratch are nonsense.
Often an example given is the McDonald's $1 meal, which we are assured is essential to low-income budgets: Imagine a single mother hauling her children in for breakfast before school drop-off, on her way to work. No food prep needed during the morning madness when she's trying to get the kids dressed and ready to leave. If she has two kids, she spends only $3 (plus tax) on breakfast for the whole family.
Now compare the price of the $1 meal -- along with its zero-nutritional value and the future health problems it's going to create -- to a box of Cheerios ("Honey Nut" if you prefer the sweet version). An 18-oz box costs approximately $3.00 at a chain supermarket. One box contains approximately 17 servings-which works out to about 18-cents per serving, not including milk. So add in a 1/2 cup of milk -- priced at an average of $4 per gallon -- and that comes to an additional 12-cents per serving, or 30-cents total per breakfast. The "prep time" to pour cereal and milk (presuming the kids can't do it themselves?) surely amounts to less time than it takes to go to a restaurant, stand in line, and pay for the meal. And less money as well when you factor in gas or transportation costs to the restaurant. I could do the same exercise with lunch or dinner.
Then there's the "time and convenience" excuse. We are told that working parents these days are too busy to cook. And even if they have a spare moment or two, they are certainly too exhausted to prepare a meal
But this argument too doesn't hold up after a few minutes thought: Maybe never in the course of human history has a society had "more time" than ours to prepare and eat food. And yes, I'm including working single mothers and "dual-income earning" families here. It wasn't so long ago that you couldn't eat a meal without lighting a stove -- with firewood or coal. And back then, it was common for everyone in the household to work and do chores, including children. There were no microwaves, no electric stoves, no refrigerators, no food processors, no convenience stores or supermarkets. Every single item of food had to be cleaned and prepped from scratch using manual tools. The day ended with lightfall, so you'd better have it all done by then. And even with the advent of better technology and lighting, I don't think an Edwardian or Depression-era household -- or a 1950s housewife for that matter -- enjoyed "more time" than we do today. The sheer easiness and convenience of modern life has simply allowed us to busy ourselves in different ways, liberated from the once all-consuming daily tasks of domesticity. And thus we have drifted away from learning very basic, useful household skills.
So while it may seem easier to order in a pizza, or zap a pre-fab mini-meal in the microwave, it's not really so. How much extra effort does it really take to get together a bowl of salad (especially given that lettuces now come pre-mixed and pre-washed)? Or boil fresh beans and toss them with some salt, oil and lemon? Or, as I noted with the fish filet, dust it with some flour and seasoning and fry it or broil it for a minute or two? You can do the same with simple cuts of chicken and beef. Or put on a pot of pasta and in the space of time it's cooking whip up very simple homemade sauce. There's an app for that.
Then do the economics for dividing the costs of the fresh ingredients among three or four people -- for most dishes I doubt it will come out to much more than a large take-out Domino's pizza.
The problem is that we've persuaded ourselves -- as we surf the Internet, download movies, check our email and play games on our phones -- that preparing food from scratch is as awesome and time-consuming as knitting our own sweaters. Who would even bother to do that? It's true that planning fresh meals does take a certain amount of ingenuity and creativity to avoid repetition -- more so than cruising the prepared food aisle or ordering the number 4 with Diet Coke, thanks. And yet, that's what makes the emerging farm-to-doorstep market so exciting -- and in the end, so easy.
By putting the farm order forms online, you can order your groceries at your convenience --and also have the time to brood over the choices as you check your email or quickly Google search a recipe. Arganica, like other sites, even posts fast recipes for that week's seasonal harvest. When the food arrives, you've already thought the meals through. And now you don't need to go to the supermarket for several days. What's more, everything you make will taste delicious. Anyone who has grown even so little as a cherry tomato on their patio knows the difference between the fresh-plucked juicy version versus the red cannonballs that fill supermarket bins in January.
I'm wondering, then, if farm marketers haven't made a mistake by focusing on the homey, nostalgic aesthetic of another era. At a certain level it makes sense: that customers receive their weekly deliveries hand-packed in wooden crates and paper sacks is a powerful psychological sales tool against the shiny, shrink-wrapped products of mass-produced food.
But I wonder if a better economic strategy wouldn't be to package fresh farm products in a more contemporary way. Americans are innately forward-looking. They want the next good thing, not the good thing of 30 years ago. I'm sure there's a way to box the food in a "green" container that looks hip and urban -- a hint of retro, but not too much. Like the funkily patterned, reusable shopping bags now on sale everywhere -- or even something in a smartphone aesthetic: What would an app for a farm-to-table delivery service look like? Go from there.
Now excuse me while I go trim that broccoli for tonight's dinner.
This article is cross-posted at FrumForum.
Follow Danielle Crittenden on Twitter: www.twitter.com/dcrittenden1
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Personally, I am thrilled to hear from another Mom who refuses to do the pre-fab food thing. I will NOT have processed foods in my house. My mother never did and I won't feed my family that way, either. It IS a myth that "from scratch" is too time-consuming. I have a very responsible full time job that takes extra hours of "homework". So does my husband. It really doesn't take much more to make from scratch, if you plan ahead, and it is far, FAR cheaper. If you want spaghetti tomorrow night, make your pasta dough either in the morning or the night before, refrigerate, and finish the next night. Or... make big batches of pasta on the weekend, coil loosely, bag and freeze. And make your own pasta sauce! I see people buying these tiny bags of mash potato flakes for $3 or $4. An entire 10 lb. bag is $2.99! Canned soup is sometimes as much as $3/can, avg. is about $1.89. You can make gallons of delicious homemade soup for a fraction of that per serving. And it's easy! Not to mention the satisfaction of creating your own homemade meal for your family.
Closes tab and prays the stu pidity in this world would soon end
We should help local farmers sustain a diversified market portfolio so they do not become dependent on a singe vendor such as Arganica. It's a great idea but I find it a bit hypocritical for her to say that you can find the time to cook but then implies that we don't have the time to go to the farmer's market. As farmers become more dependent on a single vendor they must abide by their terms and become more vulnerable to failure if that vendor ever drops them. We need to be careful that we don't circle back to where we began! As she points out, Whole Foods (with a similar starting-point concept) has become too big to practice what it preaches in some respects. Please keep going to farmer's markets and stores that sell local goods! If you want local food delivered, find local farms near you and become a direct member of their food co-ops.
As for her idea on contemporary packaging, again we don't want to turn something about sustainability into something that produces more garbage. Goods should be delivered in reusable containers that are given back to the deliverer.
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TR is considered more left today--agreed. But he founded the National Park system. He was a great outdoorsman. And he was a wonderful proponent of virtue and hardiness. Count me in.
The way I eat is not a diet, it's a way of life. I rarely cook anything. I prefer to munch my produce raw and lunch is generally farmer's veggies & fruits. My milk is raw (has to be bought from a farmer friend), my butter made by said friend with cow. Beef is bought by the half from an old guy in Southern Utah who lets a few cows roam around his ranch eating grass and drinking mountain spring water, to be butchered for a few friends & family. Eggs & chickens come from another guy down the road who lets them wander in a very large area that he's predator-proofed pretty well.
I sometimes have ice with my filtered mountain well water.
There are a few other things like coconut oil/milk, rice is my only grain in many types which I eat every day. I have had lupus for 17 years, but since I dumped any and all drugs and began to eat the way of my childhood 10 years ago, I've shown no signs of lupus.
Never, ever do I eat 'fast food'.
How wonderful that you have found relief from your Lupus symptoms. Peace
Though the new food safety modernization act has lots of transparency regs. it also has exemptions based on volume produced, money earned, and whether you own the facility that holds the license to alleviate some of the cost with developing HACCP and SOP safety guidelines and restrictions.
If you start worrying about climate change, or feel the stronge urge to hang out your laundry you should probably tune into FOX News until the feeling passes. If you begin to doubt that tax cuts for the wealthy actually help the middle class, it might be too late.
Really?
I do believe in going back to the future. I take slight issue with your comment: " In a time when cheap cuts of meat were less plentiful than they are today..." Isn't this a product of factory farms, where animals are jam packed together, never exercised, and fed hormones and antibiotics? Not something to glow about.
But people have a right to live where their families have put down roots. And if a state decided to take away voter right, for example, the federal government has a duty to forbid it. Just as the fed had to send in troops to enforce school desegregation in the South.
Those folks are pretty awesome.
We need to focus more of making life work.
Oh, about the "too busy to cook" thing: We're a two-career couple, so I make huge pots of soups and stews - about a two-hour job every other week. I freeze them in quart containers, then thaw and eat on busy nights ... which is almost every night. With bread, cheese, and wine, it's a feast!