Ahh, the final day of the challenge. Despite minor complaints of feeling too tired to cook, but having to anyway, it hasn’t been a hard experience at all. It was probably easier for us than some other challengers, though, because I’m a vegetarian so I’m used to finding non-meat protein sources and generally getting creative with my veggies. Frequently throughout the week, my husband and I talked about how this would affect us post-CFS Challenge. We both agree we will be eating locally as much as possible, though not strictly. Sometimes, he explained, he really wants a Filet-O-Fish sandwich from that creepiest clown of American fast food restaurants. I can’t blame him, sometimes I just want the Vegetarian Number 4 from our favorite Mexican restaurant that’s less than a mile up the street.
Although he carries quite a torch for what can only be described as the antithesis of eating local, the changes will be significant. A last minute attempt to add cheese to our vegetarian dinner several nights ago, prompted us to stop by Harris Teeter to see what they had. Nothing. The closest cheese they had was from New Jersey. It was too late to drive to Earth Fare, so we went home and tried the home made goat milk feta. As we searched for the nonexistent local cheese, I could tell he was pretty disturbed, knowing that Harris Teeter is based less than 2 miles from our house. Surely their buyers must know of the incredible local resources we have here in the Carolinas? Maybe they don’t, and if not, now we are 1) aware of other, often cheaper resources, 2) have a higher standard of flavor, something the grocery store foods often lack due to a variety of reasons, and 3) more likely to let the grocers know we demand local. No, Mr. Teeter, I don’t consider Florida local.
Also, nixing sugar from our eating has been tough, but learning to love the simple sweetness of a bright fuchsia plum has been monumental. We’ve both eaten a lot smaller portions because the food is satisfying, rich in flavor, and worthy of contemplation while we eat it. There are no weird preservatives I can’t pronounce, no additives to change my desire to eat more than necessary, a little more cooking but a greater reward. It’s not just the grocery store tomato that literally pales in bland, pink comparison to it’s farm fresh truly tomato red counterpart, it’s everything. Milk, eggs, cheese, the sweetness of a baby zucchini, the texture and mouth feel of fresh egg noodles. It’s a slower, more appreciative reflection of the process a brilliant, kelly green bean undergoes while traveling from farm to plate.
As we go forward, it’s only appropriate that I thank the Carolina Farm Stewardship for introducing me to a more colorful approach to eating. Thank you!
Originally written for and posted on the Carolina Farm Stewardship Assn.’s blog.
