Going into this experience (challenge?) I did a lot of research, ready to experience all “local” has to offer. Finding the food has been one aspect, but it’s also made me reconsider my garden, and how I use my space. This winter I’m going to try my hand at hard red winter wheat to function as a cover crop and as a source of food for next year.
As I’ve said in other posts, it’s gotten me out into the community to meet people, but more than anything it’s gotten me into the kitchen to cook. The beauty of the time spent in the kitchen is more time than I’ve had in a long time to commune with myself and listen to my natural patterns. It’s a meditation that embraces the clattering of pots and pans.
Realistically, I don’t have the stamina to maintain this weeks habits long term. I’ve set the week aside to experiment, try flavors and keep the local eating exciting. Perhaps it was a desire to entice my husband into the experience, rather than let him sit back and think it’s another fad I’m going through. The meals I have been making have been much more extravagant than average every day eating, so my days consist of working, cooking, eating, fixing lunches, sleeping and starting all over again. I’m feeling a bit like Donna Reed, although her house was far cleaner than mine.
The issue at hand isn’t the local food. We luckily live in, what my amateur senses feel is, an area of great agricultural wealth. The issue is that I’ve been cooking each meal, one at a time, and disregarding the planning aspect. Instead of making enough pasta for one meal and a leftover snack, making enough for several meals and storing it for later would be much better. That’s the aspect the planning department that I ignored. It has been nice to have interesting foods on hand and snacking has been a completely different experience. I’m not sur
e, but I think my body knows this week it’s pretty much preservative free!
Without sugar, there has been an apparent lack of dessert, and when I read the recipe for Salt-Kissed Buttermilk Cake on 101 Cookbooks my brain started storming. Perhaps it was the irresistible name or the mouthwatering pictures? Whatever the reason, I was curious enough to start translating the ingredients. Surprisingly, it was simple math! I interchanged the buttermilk for leftover whey from cheese making. I have 50 pounds of flour grown in South Carolina and milled by Adluh Mills. Sugar was subbed with honey, eggs are easy. The lemon zest might have posed a problem, except that one of my favorite herbs in my front yard is Lemon Verbena, which I chopped up and let simmer in the warming butter to infuse the lemony depth even further. Okay, so I didn’t have local salt or baking powder, and for those I used my non-local stock pile. And the topping, the salty bits to counter the sweet; for that I made a flour, butter and honey crumble, kissed with salt.
Despite my complaining about spending so much time cooking, this cake was just the challenge I was looking for. As it turned out, the time spent translating the recipe and communing with the food through baking just might have been the pinnacle of my kitchen experiment this week. Now I need to find a neighbor to share it with.
Originally written for and posted on the Carolina Farm Stewardship Assn.’s blog.
