The recent demand for local and organic produce has resulted in a growing number of farmers' markets popping up in local communities. The following tips can keep you from becoming overwhelmed as you peruse the stands at a new or established farmer's market and wonder exactly how to start and what questions to ask.
For recipes and tips on how to cook with your fresh produce, visit Chef2Chef's recipe page.
]]>But what does local food and farming really mean, and how can you tell the difference between what's really local and what's just used for marketing?
The local movement has two tines on their fork demanding clear definition by consumers: distance and ethics.
How far is local?
I live in Florida. When I'm at the grocery store and have a choice between organic produce from Mexico or organic produce from the U.S., I pick the U.S. It's local. If I have a choice between California or Georgia, I pick Georgia. It's local. If I have a choice between Georgia or Florida, I pick Florida. It's local. If I have a choice between Plant City, Fla. or Christmas, Fla., I pick Christmas because it's closer to me than Plant City. All of those choices are considered local.
In 2008, Congress passed an amendment to the Consolidated Farm and Rural Development Act, which attempted to define the distance food can travel in order to be considered local:
So that (sort of) takes care of distance, but what about the deeper meaning of "local?"
Deep thoughts on local: the ethics standpoint
Local, for many of us, means that food was grown with care, on smaller farms, by farmers who use organic methods, harvest and sell within a few days and personally travel with their produce, meat, cheese, milk and sell it directly to you. Or perhaps in slightly larger farms, there is one degree of separation - the sales person - between you and the market (as in a co-op situation or local grocery store). But that's not always the case.
Frito Lay, for example, operates one of its plants in Central Florida where they manufacture potato chips. Some (but not all) of the potatoes used to manufacture the chips are commercially grown in Florida using conventional growing methods. According to the Consolidated Farm amendment, Frito Lay is technically using local produce in manufacturing the chips in their Florida plant. And Frito Lay uses that to their marketing advantage in the grocery stores by advertising the use of local potatoes. I don't think that's the kind of "local" we had in mind.
The "locavore" movement, coined in 2005, limits the 400-mile radius to just 100 miles. So the four-or-more hour journey your local food could legally take under the guise of the Consolidated Farm amendment is streamlined to a sensible and manageable one-hour journey.
One hour. Think about it. Could you forage for local food from farmers and vendors 100-miles or less from your home? You can, and you should for three reasons:
You've heard of Opaque's Dining in the Dark where dinner guests are blindfolded, seated in a dark room and left to navigate their dinner plates in total darkness, with only their senses of smell, taste, texture and hearing as guides . More recently you may have learned about the experience of being strapped to your chair and lifted by crane, along with your entire dining table full of guests, chefs, stovetops and grills, to a dinner-hurling height of 160 feet (that's about the height of an average town water tower or bridge, or 16 stories for you city dwellers) courtesy of Dinner in the Sky.
There's no end to the list of extreme restaurants out there - dining on toilets, eating with your hands, sci-fi and dinosaur themes. There truly is something for everyone. But what about "normal" unique concepts? Following are top 5 restaurants that I wish someone would create:
What do you think of these concepts?What kind of restaurant do you envision? Be sure to leave your comments below.
No.
My chef instructors used a different approach - they were mentors, offering encouragement, advice and help when we needed it. They allowed us to make mistakes without berating us, and instead offered firm guidance; all without raising their voices and making us feel like the dirt on a russet potato.
So, back to my original question: why yell in the first place?
Theories abound. Some speculate it's the "old school" chefs doing the yelling because "that's how they learned." Others claim a verbally-abusive chef is ego-driven, needing to knock students down in order to feel important. The most popular theory is that instructors only yell at the stupid students. And that makes me wonder what that says about the authors mentioned above because they all seem like smart folks.
Does being yelled at make you a better chef?
Perhaps for those who need the discipline, much like a young person enlisted in the military might need harsh rules and consequence, the yelling works. But for the majority of students, from a recent poll, could do without the yelling.
I wasn't yelled at, spit on, degraded, humiliated or made to feel inferior at any time during my term semesters. I attended an accredited culinary program, learned and practiced the foundations of cookery while being exposed to classical, international and regional cuisines, butchery, cheese-making, garde manger and wine pairings just like anyone might experience in culinary school. I graduated with honors, have a successful career and turned out just fine without flogging-by-spatula.
What's your experience? Do your instructors inflict humiliation at every chance, or are you from a school of mentors?
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It's the same debate as raw milk: many farmers, cheesemakers and consumers believe that pasteurizing the milk kills beneficial bacteria and alters the flavor. Federal lawmakers, however, want to keep the list of "death by cheese" as low as possible and require all cheeses made in the U.S. be from pasteurized milk, or aged 60 days if made with raw-milk.
I don't think the 60-day rule is such a bad thing. For cheeses like Cheddar, Manchego, Parmigiano-Reggiano and Gruyere the aging process is at least 60 days in rooms that are 50 degrees F. with 85 percent humidity anyhow, so the American versions aren't really missing out on anything. It's the soft cheeses like ricotta, Brie and chèvre that get the short end of the curd slicer in the 60-day deal.
So how can we have our raw milk cheese and eat it, too? Expert cheesemakers are voting for food safety vigilance in creameries across the United States, with rigorous HACCP (hazard analysis and critical control points) plans in place that require frequent inspections and on-site bacteria testing.
And I think that could work well in small operations that produce local, organic artisan cheeses. Which is how it should be: small, local creameries producing specialty cheeses that are so unique, you can pinpoint the grass and clover essence in the cheese, according to region or season.
But when the big companies want in on the artisan trend and decide that marketing is more worthwhile than local and organic, we start to have a problem. When supply and demand meets greed, the food safety system suffers.
I confessed earlier I couldn't bring myself to drink raw milk. However, I feel differently about raw milk cheese as long as it's mature. I'm a fan of the 1940s 60-day rule and don't mind waiting for a good raw milk Cheddar. But unless I'm on a hillside in Italy with lactating sheep grazing next to me, I'm not eating the raw milk ricotta made here in the U.S.
What do you think? Do you agree with the possibly outdated 60-day law or are you a supporter of the raw milk option for all cheeses? And what raw milk cheeses have you enjoyed (and lived to tell us about)?
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