Sunday I had pre-church breakfast at a home in Seattle where chickens take residence in the backyard. I have already expressed my fondness for the idea of urban chickens, but reading “A Delicious Revolution” by Celia Barbour made me want to don my overalls and purchase some laying hens. Barbour argues that every day we eat something–something that should connect us to our natural world, but in this day of over-processed and over-packaged food, she states, “the food that crosses your lips probably bears as much resemblance to its natural state as a chicken nugget does to a barnyard hen.” She states that a food revolution is going on, and she seems to say that this revolution is one in which anyone with money and taste buds can be involved. By buying organic and local, by frequenting farmer’s markets, by growing your own food, or by participating in Community Supported Agriculture, one can take a stand about the food they are eating.

How might our world be different if we took ownership of our food, especially for our children’s sake? What if all cities had a School Lunch Initiative that replaced over-processed, HFCS-infused mystery meats on a stick, made into fingers, or put on a bun with fresh, local, nutritious ingredients, as Alice Waters has done in Berkeley, California. Granted, Seattle Public Schools has made progress
with multigrain buns, seasonal fresh fruit, vegetarian options, and r-BST hormone free milk, but could we partner more with local farmers or p-patches for some of these meats, fruits, or veggies?

Last Friday, Justin and I celebrated our 8-year anniversary at a neighborhood restaurant that attempts to use as many local ingredients as possible, and I must say, it was delicious. What would it look like if more restaurants adopted seasonal ingredients and seasonal menu? Again, I think Seattle is ahead of the curve with such restaurants as Union, Dahlia Lounge, and La Medusa (all delicious!) that make it their mission to feature fresh, local, and seasonal ingredients. But should I have to pay almost $100 a meal for two people to enjoy the delights of fresh, local, seasonal, and organic foods? Right now, enjoying a slice of an heirloom tomato or a prairie-fed, pan-roasted organic chicken in a restaurant is an exclusive treat that few can enjoy, when it used to be a routine that most Americans What about the majority of our nation’s restaurants–can they, too, benefit from a partnership with local farmers? One might state, “But then the menus would be different from month to month! But then a meal in Santa Fe chain might be different from one in Vermont!” Yes. The towns in the US might just regain some of their regional distinctiveness again, perhaps at the expense of our all-important consistency and homogeneity in fast-food restaurants and sit-down chains. Americans might have to regain their sense of taste and seasonality in an effort to cut down on carbon emissions, support local farmers, and eat in a more healthy manner.

The other day Justin and I walked to Safeway in our neighborhood. On the end of an aisle, right next to the checkout, there was a display for 10 Little-Debbie boxed snacks for $10. Each box contained at least 1600 calories, meaning a person could buy most of a day’s worth of calories for $1. But is that the type of food that we want to encourage our American families to eat? Apparently someone close to home has thought about this, because Seattle’s Columbia City Farmer’s Market, according to the Rainier Valley Post, is doubling food stamps. This means the “money” will stretch a little further for these families at the sometimes-pricey farmer’s market. Sustainable, local food should be an option for low-income, urban apartment dwellers and middle-class suburbanites, not just a luxury that a few can afford due to lifestyle changes of neo-hippies who move to a coop, rural families that still sustain themselves through hunting, fishing, and growing their own food, or those with enough money during these hard economic times to spend on quality food. Now….who wants to help me figure out how to raise chickens?

I spent a few minutes this afternoon in my garden picking cherry tomatoes and green beans. I have mentioned before how satisfying this process of planting, tending, and harvesting my own food is, but this time, I want to approach it from an environmental angle, as well as from the perspective of gardening as an innate need.

Since reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma, I have run across two other articles about growing one’s own food in two magazines: Wired and O. Wired’s September 2008 article, written by Clive Thompson, is titled “Grow Your Own” and is about urban farming and microgardening. It seriously makes me want to buy chickens. Thompson argues that this movement is not just for health-conscious foodies and hipsters, but for those that would like to tackle our world’s food resource problems. Thompson states, “a massive increase in edible gardening could help solve them….the next president should throw down the gauntlet and demand Americans sow victory gardens once again.”

I would have no problem with that. I remember my own curiosity as I watched old cartoons that featured these patches of patriotism–these front yards filled with carrots and beans, a backdrop for the roundup of old tires and aluminum cans. I yearned for my own square of earth to tend, and now I have one. However, I doubt that mine is as prolific as the ones grown during the WWII era, which produced “roughly 40 percent of the fresh veggies consumed in the US in 1942 and 1943,” states Thompson. I sense that quite a bit of canning and preservation must have been happening, as well.

Thompson argues for urban gardening for the following reasons:
1) We are facing “a wave of obesity,” states Thompson. Growing fresh veggies might encourage families to eat the recommended 5-9 servings per day, although I think the preparation of these veggies as well as several other factors are going to make more of a difference.
2) The globalization and industrialization of our food poses health risks. If we grew our own food, would we have e. coli in our spinach and jalapenos? Globalization also means that our food is coming from further away, emitting tons of CO2 in its wake. Thompson states, “when you shop for dinner ingredients in and around your home, the carbon footprint nearly disappears.” He advocates for a 100-yard diet rather than a 100-mile diet (which, I argue, is far better than the 1,800 mile average that any given food product travels to most consumers). He states that growing our own food would establish our food independence, although I am not sure how much we truly rely on other countries for our food NEEDS versus our culinary wants.
3) Planting crops in rooftops will cool cities cheaply (and, I say, provide fewer impervious surfaces in our cities).

I will gloss over Thompson’s weak connection to gardening technology–a requirement for his ability to publish this very non-wired topic in Wired magazine–and skip to my favorite part. Thompson states, “Growing our own food again would reconnect us to this country’s languishing frontier spirit.” But is it the frontier spirit to which we need reconnecting? I argue that it is a connection to something more primal (and for that matter, less Eurocentric)–the Neolithic need for self-reliance, as discussed in The Omnivore’s Dilemma.

I cannot tell you the number of times I have felt the urge to build, create, knit, grow, sew, and preserve–skills that, unless stranded, are not necessary to my existence. Michael Pollan, author of The Omnivore’s Dilemma, puts it this way:
“Isn’t it curious how in so many of our pasttimes and hobbies we play at supplying one or another of our fundamental creaturely needs–for food, shelter, even clothing? So some people knit, others build things or chop wood, and a great many of us “work” at feeding ourselves, by gardening or hunting, fishing or foraging…..something in us apparently seeks confirmation that we still have the skills needed to provide for ourselves. You know, just in case…..It may be little more than a conceit at this point, but we like to think of ourselves as self-reliant, even if only for a few hours on the weekend, even when growing the stuff yourself winds up costing twice as much as wit would to buy it at the store.” Well, we won’t even go into the cost of my knitting hobby or how little I have used my sewing machine in the last 8 years, but I agree with Pollan. Americans love to be self-reliant, but I think it’s more of a human need than an American need.

Perhaps I can relate to Pollan because I come from Arkansas, dubbed the Natural State, a land of green rolling hills where, in the southeast and southwest of the state, I have grandparents that tend successful gardens. Do folks from Los Angeles and New York feel the same tug to plant seeds indoors that I do when March rolls around? Would they get the same satisfaction from nurturing their need for self-reliance in the same way that I do when it comes time to can tomatoes or bake homemade cobbler from freshly picked blackberries? I don’t know, but from reading Thompson’s article, perhaps it would be better for planet Earth if everyone gave it a try.

I officially checked out of my room, turned in my grades, and completed district-directed professional development yesterday at 4 p.m. To celebrate, I went to Starbucks on that lovely, sunny, warm afternoon and then got my nails done. This time, I even got a design on my big toes just for the heck of it. Afterward, Justin and I went to Jalisco, a Mexican restaurant we like close to the theater. We ordered fajitas and enchiladas, but they charged us for two fajitas and one enchilada plate. After notifying them of the mistake, they just charged us for one entree! We walked several blocks to Intiman and went to Namaste Man, a monologue by a man who grew up in Nepal and a variety of other locations when growing up. He artfully and hilariously describes his experiences in international school and of his lack of belonging in Nepali culture and American culture.

Today is a room-temperature, yet cloudy, Saturday. We slept in (and I’ve been getting plenty of sleep lately!!) after leaving the bedroom windows open all night. I made raisin toast, eggs, and bacon for breakfast while we listened to This American Life. I worked in my garden; Justin went to Lowe’s. Today is laundry, de-clutter, vacuum, dishes, and all-around chores day. Tonight: a bridal shower (read: Mexican food and Wii games). Tomorrow, I anticipate reading and going to Ohana Project. Perhaps I shall even watch a movie (I’d love to go to Get Smart with Justin!). No grading or lesson planning awaits.

Monday (and for two weeks thereafter) I shall be attending a “Summer Institute for Biology Teaching” from 8:30-3:30 at the UW. I expect I will enjoy it, although I will be missing the home visit training and the AP Bio institute.

Well–it’s time to de-clutter. Hopefully I will blog again before two more months pass!

I worked in the garden on this glorious, 76-78F sunny day–a rare event in Seattle, especially for April. I got a mini-farmer’s burn from before I changed into a tank top. The gardening weather couldn’t have come at a more perfect time, as I had some basil, tomato, and eggplant started inside on March 1 that were ready for the outdoors. Before my outdoor adventures could begin, I had to stop by Lowe’s (where everyone else in the universe converged today) for some more garden soil to fill in my beds. They hadn’t had replenishment in 2 years and needed to be topped off.

Next came a miniature ethical crisis: should I tear out my 4 wild-and-crazy, huge, full-of-blossoms-yet-no-good-for florets broccoli plants? Normally, the answer would be “a thousand times, yes.” However, there were 4 or 5 happy pollinators enjoying the nectar of this cruciferous vegetable’s flowers. Who am I to discourage bees from my garden or to take away their food? Justin assured me that they would find sustenance elsewhere, so I ripped them out. I hope my little bee friends come back for my tomatoes, eggplants, basil, and other garden delights.

Some new developments in my garden include carrots (planted from seed outside today with the already-thriving Swiss chard), peppers transplanted outside (not doing great yet–we shall see), dahlias planted from seed near the rose bush, and alyssum planted outside near the rose bush. I also planted more peppers inside today, along with more mint and some new cantaloupe. I hope to plant mint outdoors in front of the house to serve as a space-filler with a nice scent to mask the smell of cat poop that lingers near the house. There are some cats (not Virgil–his evil cousins) that think our mulch (and my garden beds, if I didn’t have the netting) is their personal litter box.

I have decided to keep some basil indoors for kitchen use, and I’d like to use my chives and rosemary more than I do (which is hardly ever). I will likely keep some mint indoors as well. May thru July brings a new wave of planting, including hollyhocks, watermelon, squash, beans, aster, lupine, more alyssum, and who knows what else. As weather permits, I would like to use our fire pit/patio more and keep up my gardens, in general. I think what usually interrupts this process are our summer activities: when the garden usually needs the most tending and harvesting, we’re traveling or in our summer jobs/workshops.

More garden updates to come….in the meantime, does anyone know what veggie or fruit grows particularly well in Seattle or Seattle-like climates?