I
recently finished a book entitled The Town That Food Saved by Ben
Hewitt. As you might guess, the book is
about food and the part that food plays in a town, specifically the town of
Hardwick, Vermont. More than that
though, this book explores how we as a nation, as a people, are connected to
food, how we perceive it, why and how those perceptions are created, and what
implications those perceptions lead to.
While Hardwick and the culture and “agrepreneurs” are the main focus,
Hewitt goes on to question how these lessons, ideas, and dreams can be of use
in other places in our country. Food systems
that are local are intertwined, interdependent, and (Hewitt argues) can be a
catalyst for resilience and strength in communities. I have long believed that food, and our
connection (or disconnect) with it, is a part of life that has been over looked
and forgotten. How many meals have been scarfed down in the car, in our rush to
get to the next place, next deadline, next place marker in our life? How often do we really get to create meals
and community by sharing ingredients and time and knowledge with one another? I know my answer to the first question: too
many. And my answer to the second as
well: not enough.
For a
few years now I have done my best to eat locally, to vote with my dollars by
buying food from either the farmers market or a locally owned grocery
store. For a time it was easy. I had a fantastic market year-round every
Sunday; there was a great local co-op that I could get what I couldn’t at the
farmers market; I had people who I lived with and near that wanted to create
community (or maybe just some yummy food); and I was in a place financially
where the seemingly higher prices were affordable for my budget. While I lived in the Sacramento area I couldn’t
turn a corner without coming across locally grown and produced food. While living on the Olympic Peninsula (and
relying on food stamps) local food was a treat, something that was not as
easily found but worth it when it was available. Now living in a rural area where the farmers
market just closed for the season, and 40 minutes away from the next closest
town where both a farmers market and locally owned grocery store that carries
mainly locally produced produce and other foods, the challenge feels even
greater than when living in Washington.
I live and work at a place where I could potentially eat 100% of my
meals Monday through Friday for free. However,
this food is shipped many miles and I sometimes wonder about the contents that
are included. I am grateful that having
food given to me is an option, although I am curious about what I am really
getting when I eat it. The gas that I
use when I do venture to the grocery store is a non-renewable resource that I
consume the least amount that I can for a multitude of reasons. Any time I do drive anywhere, especially along
the coast, I am reminded that I live in a bread basket and do have abundant
local foods all around me, and I have to believe that there are easily accessible,
and financially sound, ways to access these resources.
How do I
become involved? How do I find these
resources? How do I figure out a way to
be a Ben Hewitt in the Northern-Central Coast of California? When I originally wrote this I was sipping a
beer brewed and bottled one county over.
I’d like to think that’s a start!
But really, my investigation is just beginning. I was spurred to figure things out by reading
someone else’s investigation into his surroundings. I know I won’t be the first (or last) to
delve into my surroundings to try to figure out a way to use what I have on
hand in an attempt to live the type of life I believe in, to walk my talk, to
ultimately try to make the world a better place. Maybe as I learn, you will too, and together
we can combine our collective ingredients to make delicious meals, harbor
community and realize our dreams of what a slice of a better world tastes
like.
