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On Finding Balance: 5 Strategies for Happy Locavore Times

3 Sep

Lea Kone, a Rochester local who’s worked in the organic farming advocacy world since 2008, writes in today.  Read on for an in-depth look at how she works Locavore principles into her life year round.

Five years ago, I went on a relaxing Caribbean vacation with two books packed for beach reading–Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and The Omnivore’s Dilemma. I am not entirely sure what inspired the local-foods themed picks, but I do know this: After that vacation, my life was never the same. I flew through Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, Barbara Kingsolver’s prized non-fiction account of her family’s year-long attempt to eat only food that they grew themselves or could obtain locally. Everything about the book – from Kingsolver’s exquisite writing, to the recipes, and even the facts and figures in the footers– drew me in and made me want to do what they were doing.  I was hungry and ready to become a local foods “disciple” and to spread the word about how eating local and organic could save the world.  And that was when I became a believer. I quit my job, moved back to New York and began a career in the organic farming and advocacy field. You’re thinking “she did all that just from reading two books?” – the answer is yes.

I was terrified for my first day of work in the organic farming advocacy sector, not because it was a new job, or because it was a new “field” to me.  I had no idea what to anticipate for those things, but my actual panic was about what to pack for lunch.  I was in the process of moving into a new apartment, I hadn’t unpacked a single kitchen utensil and had zero idea how I was I going to whip up some amazing local, organic, and seasonally appropriate dish to bring for lunch.  Would my coworkers ask where the grain from my bread was grown? Was my cheese local, organic or both? Was it better to bring a vegetarian meal or show my commitment to pastured protein sources? I thought that being committed to “the good food revolution,” and working within the field meant that I must become the ULTIMATE LOCAVORE immediately.  I did not encounter sideways looks or a shunning based on my lunch choices.  I have since learned that the community of locavores is encouraging, but most of the pressure to perform comes from within.  During the Locavore Challenge, we have a chance to put more focus on our habits and what more we can do, and this is a good thing.  In those first few days of wanting to be the best possible locavore, I had some lessons to learn about what really mattered to me in that department.

wheattasting 077

Eating locally and organically can be (but doesn’t have to be) over-thought and stressful. The truth is that this change to local and organic is supposed to be a good, healthy and happy change in your life, but forcing yourself to become The Ultimate Locavore is too much.  It’s too much change, too fast, and too absolute.  Now that I think about it, that’s a good life lesson in general, but it’s an imperative lesson when becoming a Locavore, and more importantly, a Locavore who still sees their friends. [Editor’s note: don’t forget that you can engage your friends and find new ones through the locavore challenge, though Lea certainly has a point here about not creating Locavore-colored walls around yourself].

When I participated in the very first Locavore Challenge in 2010, I tried to approach it like an Iron Man Challenge. I stripped my cabinets bare of any imported pastas, oils, sugars, and regionally un-identifiable canned beans and vegetables. I trained like I was a future Olympian as well, pre-preparing tomato sauces, chicken broths, crackers, breads and soups.  I made local, organic ice creams and plum upside down cakes for desserts, became a connoisseur of fine sustainable New York State Rieslings and turned my nose up at people with bananas or peanut butter.

locavore pig

So, “Fine,” you might grumble, “You’re great at being a Locavore.  What’s the problem?” Well, attempting the Locavore Challenge with too much force, as an obsession and with an all-or-nothing approach rather than a passionate pursuit with some self-forgiveness and flexibility built in, will probably wear you out.  Going “cold (organic) turkey” is a tough approach for anything.  You’ll know if you’ve taken it too far, because the next thing you know you’re 20 days (or 2 days) into the challenge and hiding in a dark corner of your local bar on a Wednesday night inhaling a piece of pizza made with ingredients from who-knows-where, contemplating a non-organic, not-lovingly-prepared, not-local chicken wing, and rationalizing it all because you are drinking a Peak Organic NY Local Series Beer and muttering incoherently under your breath “at least I know where my hops come from.”   For the record, Peak Organic is brewed in Maine, but that particular brew is produced with all NY state ingredients.  Take it a little easier than the perfection approach, find the areas in which you can sanely and reasonably challenge yourself to do more, and you’ll find yourself increasing your Locavore lifestyle without that binge effect.

Top 5 List for Becoming a Locavore Living and still LIVING

5. Identify your breakfast options right away. It is the most important meal of the day, and if you start your day as a grumpy, hungry, unprepared Locavore, you are going to be sitting in Dunkin’ Donuts sulking and ashamed by Day 3.

My Breakfast Go-To: Fritttata (that’s EASY EGG DISH in Italian)

A frittata is as good, if not better, cold than hot and great for lunch or dinner too. Start by sauteeing local veggies, bacon (if desired) and potatoes. Add beaten eggs, cheese, and seasoning. Heat until set and then finish under the broiler.

4. Discover local grains. Wheat berries, freekeh, rolled oats, cornmeal and local wheat flours are going to change your world. Open your arms to them.
Grains (photo: John-Paul Sliva)

My Local Grain Go-To: Polenta (that’s CORN MUSH in Italian)

It is easy to make, super versatile, and is good for any meal of the day. Try it with a poached egg and salsa in the morning, or with cheese, sausage and roasted veggies for lunch of dinner.

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3. Commit to one afternoon or evening in the kitchen. It’s no surprise that a little advance planning and preparation
can make a world of difference. Pick one day, either the same day or shortly after a market or CSA day and go nuts in the kitchen.

My Day: Sunday

My market of choice is Sunday morning, and for me, it just makes sense to shop, come home and wash and prep all of my market bounty [Lea’s not the only one hip to this plan]. I like to start by roasting a whole chicken, and then turn that into a soup that I can enjoy well into the week.

My Chicken Soup: Shredded chicken with homemade broth, and chock full of the extra roasted veggies from the roasted chicken. My favorites: carrots, onions, fennel, parsnips and potatoes. This becomes a hearty stew like soup that embraces all of the flavors of late summer and early fall.

John-Paul Sliva 021

Cut up and roast a big pan of root vegetables on your in-the-kitchen day. You’ll have food for now and the start of hearty salads and sides later in the week.

2. Set realistic goals. Will you choose a few non-local items that you must have: coffee, tea, peanut butter and eat 100% local otherwise? Will you just eat local at home? Or will you try and replace certain items in your cupboards or refrigerators with local alternatives?

My Goal: To eat 90% local and organic.

This is really my goal all year, and its really my aim for it to be as close to 100% as possible, but I believe that setting reasonable and achievable goals is always better than setting oneself up for failure. This season is bountiful with local products, so I start by stocking my fridge exclusively with local and organic fruits and vegetables. I choose local grains, beans, meats and dairy products as well, and allow myself to add small amounts of non-local oils, seasonings and accents (like the occasional lemon or Parmesan cheese). That sets me up for being nearly 100% at home, and allows me to be open for what options I may have before me while eating with friends or family.

Locavore home cooking: sauteed okra, herbs and corn fritters.

Locavore home cooking: sauteed okra, herbs and corn fritters.

1. Be real. Let yourself be human, and don’t aim for perfection. Even the most committed local and organic food experts have occasions when they eat chocolate and bananas and drink coffee and tea. Of course, they prefer Equal Exchange, Fair Trade and Organic to Dole, Nestle and Folgers, but you get the gist. This isn’t the Organic Olympics or the Sustainability Seminary. Give yourself a break and just focus on enjoying the delicious food.

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Essay Contest Runner Up: Connecting the Pieces by Melissa Brody

8 Aug

Another runner-up essay from our Locavore Challenge writing contest – enjoy! These essays do not necessarily represent the opinions of NOFA-NY, its staff, or any of its certified organic or farmers pledge farms.  We hope they give you plenty to think about and discuss!

My mom opened the fridge, searching for options. I had barely arrived and she already wanted to fill me with food. She turned and proudly announced she had bought brown eggs. She didn’t want to feel judged. “Where did they come from,” I asked. She stared at me in disbelief, then huffed, “Where did this obsession with local come from? You were never like this before.” She was right.

Growing up, I didn’t think twice about where my food came from; food was just there. While I was in college, a trip to McDonalds occurred at least once a week, and although we cooked, we opted for the exotics—mangoes, avocados, pineapples. They made us feel fancy. Yet somewhere along the way things changed, rapidly. My curiosity awoke and suddenly I wanted, no, needed, to know exactly what I was consuming and where it came from.

Photo courtesy of Melissa Brody

Photo courtesy of Melissa Brody

I traded exotic delicacies for local produce. My senses became alive to the touch, smell, sight, and taste of local food. The first time I tasted an heirloom tomato, I wondered why I spent so many years forcing flavorless supermarket tomatoes down my throat. I became aware of the thick layers of wax that coated far-traveled cucumbers. For the first time I saw baby carrots for what they really were, and considered the labor and waste that went into making those perfectly petit creations.

I became jaded at first, angry about what people bought. Why sell California strawberries in June when they’re growing practically at our feet? Asparagus in December no longer seemed natural. But through my adventure into local, I found so much more than food. Eating local brought me community. We joined a co-op. I no longer dreaded food shopping because I now had a say not just in what I was eating, but what the store carried. We joined a CSA and found neighbors we never knew we had. We visited farms and farmers markets, learning not just where but how our food grew.

Food now had a face. Picking up a fava bean brings me back to the farm stand where the farmer took time to explain how to peel the beans and his favorite way to prepare them. A spoonful of applesauce reminds me of the unseasonably warm September weekend we spent picking apples upstate, then bringing the fruit home to can. An omelet transports me to my first visit to Stone Barns where I collected eggs while chickens pecked at my sneakers.

Photo courtesy of Melissa Brody

Photo courtesy of Melissa Brody

My journey as a locavore has affected my life in ways I could never have imagined. I look at the world differently. I have yet to pinpoint the moment in my life when everything changed. I’m not sure who or what convinced me to question why raspberries, peas, and butternut squash are always available all year long. But I’ve learned to connect the pieces—to understand my impact on this earth, to realize the labor that goes into the meal that sits in front of me and to savor each bite that enters my mouth.

About the author: Melissa Brody is a marketing professional by day, food blogger by night. She is an advocate of the local food movement and founding member of the Bay Ridge Food Co-op. Melissa’s blog, Brooklyn Locavore (bklynlocavore.com) features seasonal original and adapted recipes and locavore finds.

Local Organic Passover and Easter

24 Mar

Feast days are great days to show your friends and family how simply you can incorporate local, seasonal and organic foods into your routine (and not-so-routine) eating.  If you aren’t so confident, especially in these winter-into-spring days, here’s some inspiration for your Passover and Holy Week gatherings.

Eggs and certain meats play heavily into a lot of these celebrations.  Luckily for you and your farmer, eggs are often available (thanks to the hens) year round, and provide some valuable income for those farmers who don’t have an abundance of vegetable and fruit crops.  For this and plenty of other reasons (note: we can’t verify how scientific the linked studies are, but seem to be well-accepted; we do notice a real taste and quality difference at the table, though), we urge you to buy your eggs from a farmer!  With eggs, you can make food for your suddenly-vegetarian cousin, nephew, whomever.  These dishes help stretch out your food dollar as well.  Try your hand at a frittata, a quiche, a savory bread pudding, or a Spanish tortilla filled with NY cheese, herbs, onion, any spring greens you’re fortunate to find locally-grown, and of course our workhorse, the potato.  And as for the meat (and dairy if you’re using it this holiday), we urge you to research how hormones and pesticides accumulate in animal tissues.  When making something like schmaltz, do you want to be concentrating untold contaminants into this rendered fat?  Besides, that chicken probably cost you a bit more than the supermarket chicken, don’t let the extra bits go to waste, make that schmaltz! The simple recipe for rendered chicken fat (schmaltz) from an NPR article tells you all you need to know.  How proud would you be if your schmaltz was local and organic schmaltz?

Spring means still-chilly weather and a feeling like we need to take a little of the heaviness out of our diet.  Perfect for broth-y spring soups that could care less that the long-stored veggies look a little less pristine and plump these days.  The classic Matzoh ball soup is locavore makeover-ready.  Find as many of the ingredients local and organic, (chicken, garlic, herbs, carrots, perhaps some other veggies too) and you’ve done a great thing without overriding your traditions.  If you’re not tied to a particular holiday soup, work with any local vegetables you can find, add plenty of chopped or crushed herbs for brightness, and you’re mostly there!  Dice up that last butternut squash or bag of potatoes and add them into the soup pot for a dainty treatment of these hefty winter staple vegetables.

Fresh recipes aside, did you preserve anything this summer or fall?  If spring holidays aren’t the right time to open those jars, is there any hope for this world?  Even I, stingy and apocalypse-ready, will be opening some jars preserves and pickles at this time of year, and cooking down the last of the frozen strawberries into something heavenly.

Honey also plays into a lot of our recipes this time of year.  While it’s definitely too cold for any new honey, there’s often a farmer or beekeeper who still has some honey from the last year.  Just like eggs, this is a crucial economic helper for the farmer in this season of transition from storage foods to fresh growth.  Of course, there are plenty of food-safety and -quality issues that would also drive you to find local honey (not to mention eggs and meats).  Can you make your charoset with local apples and honey?  We bet you can!

If you’re more flexible on your celebration dishes, may we suggest:

Carrot and beet salad with honey dressing–more beautiful than easter eggs!

Roasted carrots (instead of baby carrots in the linked recipe, just cut down regular carrots into uniform sticks or spears); find some local butter and herbs to enhance!

Dilled potato gratin (ok, the opposite of the spring broth soup idea, but filling for a crowd!)

Egg bread can use local flour and eggs (I just realized it may seem strange that I’m used to eating a Jewish traditional celebration bread for celebrations during the time of year when my Jewish friends can’t eat flour…sorry guys!)

NY wines!  Don’t forget (if you don’t need Kosher for Passover wine) to drink local if you drink with your celebrations.

Organic Matzoh? Easter chocolate/candy?  Probably can’t get these locally, but you KNOW there are fair-trade, organic options that are mighty tasty, right?  Check a natural foods store for that sort of thing.

 

Capturing the Locavore Spirit on the Road

21 Sep

[From Rachel]

I have traveled a lot this summer, and it has truly been great.  Each of the NOFA-NY on-farm workshops I have been to (and which I have planned) included a shared meal, and since there were farmers involved, the food was naturally sourced from nearby.  Additionally, when I travel, I tote meals, ingredients and just about anything I can to avoid relying on restaurants, though I do seek out natural foods stores with prepared foods, or restaurants with an organic and farm-to-table perspective about ingredients sourcing.  Chains are out of the question for anything besides stay-awake emergency coffee.  Mostly, I stick to my stash of fruits, homemade bread, and whatever leftovers I’ve boxed up for the trip.  I’d like to take some time to tell you how this went for me on a recent trip to Long Island, New York City and Poughkeepsie.

This trip presented me with a challenge to being able to control the food I’d consume on the road.  I was faced with a significantly long trip for which I could not pack enough to supply each meal.  This was hard for me, but I was comforted knowing that I’d be near farms and farmers’ markets and staying in houses, not hotels without kitchens.  I packed ingredients to make cornbread for my first stop–a field day and potluck at Quail Hill Farm (all the way at the tip of Long Island).  After an 8.5-hour trip (I drive slowly and take frequent breaks), I arrived at the house of two of the farm’s apprentices.  I was a bit road-weary, and I thought I’d have to break my local-foods vow with a scoop of ice cream (but I crossed my fingers for a locally-owned scoop shop, at least).  Never fear, they told me, they had half a pint of Ronnybrook ice cream that they had to save from melting during hurricane Irene’s power outages at the farm.  So I guess it never hurts to ask, and I was glad to have that to calm me down after the trip, while I stood in the kitchen and chatted about recent goings-on with the farmers.

The next day I had to find lunch.  Being in the Hamptons, there was not a shortage of delicious food that I could have spent money on, but would it satisfy my desire for a simple, local meal?   The fields were right there, and there was a kitchen available–why would I step off a food-producing establishment to get food from far away?  So I got the full Quail Hill Farm CSA member experience.  I harvested what was left over after the members had gone through and picked a few days prior, according to the very nice directional signs.  Quail Hill Farm’s CSA is almost entirely pick-your-own, a neat concept!  I got a little greedy gleaning off the plants and from the storage cooler (with everyone’s blessing) and was soon toting a bag of radishes, turnips, kale, spinach, herbs, peppers and tomatillos.  A weird mix, and I was really hungry, and a little disconcerted by the beachy humidity and wind.  I knew exactly what I was going to do when I got back to the kitchen.  Wash, slice and steam those veggies.  With food that fresh, it’s all I would need to do.  While the veggies steamed and released incredible smells, I chopped up some herbs.  I dotted a little Ronnybrook salted butter into the hot steamed veggies, and poached an egg for protein.  It was pure meditation on vegetables…and it was delicious.  It made me laugh when people passed by and commented on the wonderful look and smell of the food.  I couldn’t really take credit for much of that–the quality of my meal was a direct reflection on the skill and care taken by the farmers in raising healthy and vigorous plants bearing beautiful edible products.  And to think I had not prepared any of this ahead of time!

The turnips (red skin) look like radishes, and the radishes (watermelon variety) look like turnips!

At the potluck dinner, it was clear that we were in fall mode.  We enjoyed cornbread, baked pasta, squash and pasta salad by a fire, while we watched and felt the cold front move in.  I think everyone in New York felt that shift at about 6pm last Wednesday.  Songs were sung and company was enjoyed…then we all ran to our cars to get warm again.  It was such a low-key moment, when locavorism was unspoken and assumed.  As I left, Scott Chaskey, the 22-years-running farmer at Quail Hill, former NOFA-NY Board President, current Board member, presenter of our field day, and superb writer and amazing human being, sent me off toward the next leg of my trip with a jar of the farm bees’ honey and another pint of ice cream.  The generosity of the farmers’ gestures is an example of what makes local food work, and why it’s worthwhile.  I had no food for lunch, and there was the easy route of going to a restaurant.  But I would have sat there alone and eaten.  End of story.  But at the farm, there were kale and other veggies to be gleaned and radishes and turnips were sitting in storage.  From that, I got a meal so simple and elegant it would take Alice Waters’s breath away.  I still ate alone, but in the company of the spirit of generosity from the farmers.  Farmers want to feed you!  So give them that opportunity!  Visit their stands, their stalls at market, join their CSAs, attend their events.  You’ll end up with a feeling of sublime satisfaction, both emotional and physical.  

That was only days 1-2 of my trip!  Over the next few days, I was hanging out with my college friends in the city.  Normally I try to eat all the exotic foods that I can’t cook for myself when in New York City.  This time I wondered how I would fare, given a tighter budget and a commitment to seeking local foods (there are some great but upscale local-ingredients restaurants in the city, but I wondered if I really had the energy and funds to go that route for a few days).  It ended up that I didn’t go totally locavore in what I ate, and I am okay with that.  Here’s why:  I was MORE of a locavore than any recent NYC trip in my recent memory.  I was outspoken about my commitment to eating local and organic–I remained true in spirit, if not in actual action.  For starters, I ate both dinners in my friends’ apartment.  I can’t remember the last time we had not chosen to go out to celebrate my being in the city.  The first night, it was a simply meal that my one friend prepared (not using local ingredients, but the care and emotion taken in a meal came from within a 250-mile radius, and I accepted without judgment or hesitation).  I declared that I would cook for Saturday’s dinner.  We invited another friend living in the city, and my plan hatched.  I discovered a tiny new Greenmarket in the Socrates Sculpture Garden, several blocks from their apartment.  I scoped it out and scored plenty of beautiful produce to add to the growing stash.  I reported my findings and gave the market my seal of approval.  I think my friends will start shopping there (I advised them to start there, THEN go to the supermarket if you need more stuff.  It’s a great piece of advice to help people wrap their heads and finances around buying local food).  Then I went to Manhattan to enjoy a lunch with a dear old friend at Angelica Kitchen.  The restaurant is legendary for using local producers and for making very beautiful plant-based foods, before it was hip.  It was extremely enjoyable and I was glad to introduce my friend to this concept that I am so passionate about.  My friend learned that she likes non-spicy kimchee, and was impressed by the vegan butternut squash soup.  Before leaving Manhattan, I stopped at the huge and famous Union Square Greenmarket.  It used to overwhelm me with its booth after booth of loaded tables and pushy (sorry, NYC, but it’s often true that you can be a bit hasty at this market instead of enjoying the interaction with the vendors) customers.  I no longer feel this way…I have met many of the farmers at field days, the NOFA-NY Winter Conference and the NOFA Summer Conference.  I just went and visited familiar farm stalls, even if the people staffing them didn’t know me.  And for all you who live in NYC and are throwing up your hands at not knowing where to buy local flour: Cayuga Pure Organics sells whole grains (rye, oats, wheat berries and freekeh) and farmer-ground flours, beans and polenta.  Now you know–you don’t need to settle for bulk grains across the street at that national big-name expensive food store!  For dinner I made: bean soup with canary beans from a New Farmer Development Project farmer selling at Socrates Sculpture Garden’s market, roasted root veggies and potatoes, roasted winter squash, and freekeh.  It was actually my first experience cooking the roasted green spelt grains, and I was nervous since I didn’t know what sort of flavoring to put into it.  I threw a few golden raisins (not local) and apple cider vinegar into that pot, and that was all it needed.  What a flavorful and complex grain!  My friends (non-vegetarian boys who are adventurous eaters…but still…boys who may not have appreciated hippie girl food) were SO into the Freekeh.  They loved the whole meal, and to think we didn’t have to leave an apartment!  We even polished off a pan of apple-pear crisp after our starchy and lovely turn-of-the-season dinner.  It wasn’t all 100% local, since I didn’t have my pantry of local versions of the standard items, but it easily could have been.  I didn’t worry about that aspect at all: the spirit remained.  In fact, I was not stressed at all, like I usually am when trying to find the perfect NYC dinner spot to enjoy company of my best friends.  I cut out the middle man: the other cook,  and I think we created a new standard for my visits.  I cooked, showed off what I love about seasonal and local eating, and remembered how much I love my friends, especially because they not only ate, but asked questions about what we were eating (killed the joke that we were eating “roasted green smelt”) and even about farming and plants in general.  Being a locavore enhanced my ability to connect with my friends this trip, that’s for certain.

The next day, I went to my final field day for the season, up at Poughkeepsie Farm Project.  And guess what!  We ended with a fantastic filling potluck heavy on the potatoes and apples.  We were all hungry after 3 hours of learning about cover crop rotations.  It was blissful to sit and continue to talk and form friendships at those picnic tables (while being eaten by mosquitoes, who have a taste for local farmer blood apparently).  Through local eating, I connected with SO MANY people on my 5-day trip, had enlightening self-aware experiences, and realized, once again, that food breaks barriers if you let it.  Use the locavore challenge as the catalyst to connect with your spiritual self, your friends, your family and your farming community.  If that’s not reason enough to host or attend a potluck as part of our Potluck Across New York on Sunday, Sept. 25th, I wonder what could convince you!

Dinner at Firefly

31 Aug

From Katie (Membership & Registration Coordinator):

I consider myself  lucky when I get to tell people I grew up on Firefly Farm. It’s a beautiful, thirty acre plot nestled outside of Canandaigua in the hamlet of Cheshire. My parents farm about an acre and a half of the land to a diverse range of vegetables that are sold to five restaurants in the area, some customers who we do “market baskets” (essentially a CSA basket of sorts), and the Canandaigua Farm Market on Saturday mornings.

Firefly happens to be my ideal “me” space. Even though our office is in Rochester, I make the decision to drive back and forth every day so I have a few hours to be on the farm. You can find me weeding, picking, packing out orders, cleaning vegetables, but it’s the space where nothing can go wrong and only good things come out of the tasks at hand.

yummy summer veggies

Today when I left work I was cranky, and I’ll be the first to admit it. It was a long Wednesday, and nothing went the way it was supposed to, but as I cooled down on my drive home I knew it would get better quickly. I first stopped by Good Luck Restaurant (on Anderson Ave in Rochester) to drop off a bag of veggies the chef had forgotten when he picked up his order from Firefly (he’s probably our biggest customer). He turned my mood around by giving me a taste of the most beautiful tomato sauce he was making with Firefly tomatoes and other assorted local goodies. As I got closer to Canandaigua, my mom called me to remind me to stop by Rosecrest Farm to pick up eggs. Three dozen local eggs later, I was refreshed from the day, and couldn’t get to get home… and as soon as I stepped through the door the most amazing smell was coming from the oven. My mom was roasting eggplant, summer squash, garlic, tomatoes, and peppers (see picture on left)! If you haven’t roasted those kinds of veggies, then you’re missing out. Also on the menu: freshly picked corn (boiled), baby golden Corolla potatoes with fresh basil (boiled), and absolutely delicious cheese from Muranda Cheese Company.

Locavore month for me is more of a celebration of my family, the people who buy our veggies, the chefs who support our farm, and most importantly all the other farmers who do what we do and all the consumers who will continue to support the local/organic movement whether it’s September or not!

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