Playing Catch-up

I spent last week apartment hunting, job hunting, and Green Flamingo-ing. The fruit of my labor in the apartment department (heehee, it rhymes) is a ridiculously cheap studio just around the block from my present amazing location. Now, I know that being culinary types yourselves, you probably see the word studio and think, "Uh-oh." But this one boasts a kitchen area- complete with appliances- that may have more counter space than my current house. So even though I'm garage-selling off about three quarters of my life before the second of next month, I couldn't be happier. My only two stipulations were must be located in a low-traffic area where I can let my cat outside and must have a workable kitchen. This pad has both those covered, and at such a low price that I instantly looked at my husband after seeing it and said, "We'd be idiots not to do this."

In the Green Flamingo department (aw man, that one doesn't rhyme!), we finished digging our aquaponics pond- affectionately dubbed The Hole- this past weekend. I hope to have pics up on Doveland Farm later today. I will also have more shots from the New Smyrna Beach Farmers' Market, where Liz and Mary of Green Flamingo sell both raw vegetables and canned specialties like the pickled okra at the top of this page.

But for now, to pursue an aspect that is more specifically cooking-related, here is the Green Flamingo kitchen...

...in which we made this:

It's a spicy pasta dish with fresh-caught sheepshead and veggies grown on the premises. My husband's and my Sunday morning fishing trip yielded nothing big enough to eat, so we obtained the sheepshead from a local seafood co-op. Seagoing meats are my favorites, and though I don't normally eat fish for environmental reasons, I will eagerly make an exception if it's locally and sustainable caught.

Macaroni el Diablo with Sheepshead and Broccoli Rabe

Ingredients

2 Tbsp. butter

2 Tbsp. vegetable oil

1 onion, chopped

1 habanero pepper, de-seeded and chopped

8-10 large leaves of broccoli rabe, roughly chopped

3 sheepshead fillets, cut into bite-sized chunks

6 servings dried macaroni

1 24-oz can unsalted tomato puree

Salt, pepper, and dried Italian herb mix to taste

Directions

Salt and pepper the sheepshead chunks and set aside.

Cook macaroni according to package instructions and set aside.

Meanwhile, heat the butter and vegetable oil in a cast iron skillet over medium-high heat. When the butter has melted, add the onion and habanero. Saute about five minutes or until the onion is translucent. Toward the end of cooking time (when you have about a minute left to go), add salt, pepper, and Italian herbs to taste.

Add broccoli rabe and continue sauteing until it has wilted. As before, add salt, pepper, and herbs toward the end of cooking time.

Reduce heat to medium-low. Add the sheepshead and cover to cook, stirring only occasionally so that the chunks don't fall apart.

Add the tomato puree and macaroni. Stir. Let it warm through for a couple minutes, then stir again and taste for salt, pepper, and herb content. Add a little more if needed. Let simmer fifteen minutes. Serves 6.

This has been dubbed a Chickenless Chick Cooperative recipe, as the ingredients (other than the sheepshead and butter) were suggested, gathered, and in large part cooked by Green Flamingo intern Steve. The reconstituting of the macaroni can be attributed to my great sport of a husband, so turns out all I did was come up with the idea for "spicy tomato-y fish pasta thingie" and do the prep work. A valiant team effort with superb results.

Who else is excited about Turkey Day?! I'll be spending it with friends here in Orlando. What are your plans?

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

I Won! I Won!

...a bottle of Acai Black Currant syrup in a giveaway from Food Finery! I promised to do something fancy with it, and that will come later. At the moment, I am enjoying it in a glass of cheap shiraz. Really takes the edge off that gasoline flavor... Mmm. Thanks, Food Finery!

As if you haven't heard me gush enough about Green Flamingo Organics, here are a few more reasons to be jealous of me for volunteering there:

That's all I managed to capture on Saturday before my camera ran out of juice. Silly me, forgetting the extra batteries. I didn't even get to shoot the aquaponics pond that my husband and I dug (partially). Do you guys remember when I showed you all the carpet remnants heaped in our backyard? Well, an aquaponics pond was the plan. The carpet would have lined it. But we're in a sad, sad state of flux right now, and don't know whether we'll live in the same house come the end of the month. So we're digging one at Green Flamingo instead. I am still super-mega-fun-time-happy-excited about it, and I promise not to forget the batteries again this coming weekend.

Six days left on the 30 Rock TV Dinner challenge! What are you guys planning? Or would you rather surprise me?

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Chickenless Cook of the Week: Anonymous

That's right, anonymous. No pictures. No name. No identifying features whatsoever. Just a lovely stock photo of cows in a field.

Now, it's not that this person chooses to remain anonymous... on the contrary, his home page has his name and picture right on the banner. I'm the fussy freddy behind all the discretion, and with good reason. This week's chickenless cook is technically a criminal.

First, a crash course in civics:

A long, long time ago, back when people didn't understand what germs were and thought they were the work of the devil or something, they used to keep their dairy cows in unsanitary conditions and feed them items that the FDA would not deem safe for their consumption today. (Not that the condition of your average cow is so hot in the US at present, either; but for the sake of argument, let's say dairy farms are basically cleaner than they were at the turn of the century). Folks in cities frequently got sick from milk that had been transported from rural areas. Up sprung the practices of pasteurization and homogenization. Big bad creepy-crawlies like typhoid stayed out of the milk supply, farmers were still allowed to transport their milk long distances, and for a long time everyone was content with the arrangement.

But as Bob Dylan would say, "Don't speak too soon for the wheel's still in spin." Today, organizations like Real Milk argue vehemently that the benefits of raw dairy outweigh the risks, as long as sanitary standards are upheld.

Trouble is, they're not allowed to test this theory. Sale of raw dairy for human consumption is illegal in a number of areas throughout Europe and the United States, all the territories of Australia, and all the territories of Canada. In my home state of Florida, only criminals deal in the raw.

Enter my anonymous cook of the week.

An acupuncturist by trade, he started volunteering on farms years ago, and developed a side business selling local products such as fruits, vegetables, herbs, and- you guessed it- raw dairy. Anyone who wants to partake can sign up on his website. Every two weeks he schleps around picking up from farms (all are within a three-hour radius). Customers can then pick up their pre-ordered contraband at his Altamonte Springs home.

Let's take a side trip and discuss the logistics of this business for a moment. Surely he uses less gas fetching your food from local sources than a chain grocery store uses importing your food across the globe. Thumbs up so far. However, those thumbs are attached to hands that are not "on". You still won't understand where your food comes from, any more than if you had bought it at Super Wal-Mart. You won't get to judge for yourself the living conditions of any animals involved, or whether the fertilizer they use on their plants is organic. You are entrusting your health and ethics to a third party. Thumbs down on that- no matter how trustworthy your third party happens to be, perpetuating a "get it all in one spot" mindset discourages diligent research and, by extension, responsible eating.

So far, I have thumbs pointing in each direction. Here's where your thumbs come in.

I considered expense when deciding whether or not to use this service. When you buy directly from a farmer, there's no middleman to jack up the price. Now, if you're a busy person, chances are it's either because you have a job that keeps you that way or are a single parent with a steadily-working spouse. In either case, you may find it worth paying a bit more for the convenience of attaining assuredly-local food from one source. In my case... well, I have more time than money, so my thumbs went down. This is a personal rather than a societal consideration, and I thought it would interest my readers to spread the idea around. Perhaps you would like to patronize a business like this in your neck of the woods. Perhaps you would even like to start one. In either case, I would strongly support you, even though I don't happen to be the ideal customer for your services.

I would also like to hear from your thumbs as far as the legal issue is concerned. We're moving back into the realm of societal consideration now, but the reason I saved this for last is because I'm not sure where I stand in the raw dairy debate. I am more than okay with the legal sale of booze and cigarettes, so long as their labels clearly warn of the health hazards. But I'm not crazy about the idea of selling something that could cause a typhoid outbreak. Potential benefits include increased nutritional value and assistance with immunization... both important, to be sure, but worth being legally allowed to place your children in danger of life-threatening disease?

If that were the whole story, I would say no. But I don't know the whole story.

What have you heard? I understand that mostly small farms engage in this activity, so is it possible that the risks of consuming raw dairy are being exaggerated by lobbyists working for large corporations? Or are raw dairy traffickers a health menace, as deserving of punishment for their crimes as drug dealers?

In an earlier post, I asked you to leave a kind word for my cook of the week; and I would still ask that if you can't say something nice about him personally, don't say anything at all. I chose him for a reason: because he is one chickenless SOB. No matter what can be said about the legality of his business practices, I personally admire him for helping people get the local foods they appreciate and deserve.

That being said, would you use a service like his? If not, is it due to any of the factors I've mentioned, or is there something I haven't considered? What is your opinion on raw dairy in general? On local dieting? Please feel free to leave a comment or write dontbeawuss@gmail.com.

Thanks for taking the time to read this in between trips to the costume shop or the party supply store. Happy Halloween and look forward to hearing your thoughts!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Witnessing the Final Days of Organic Farms?

And here I thought my blog wasn't big enough to get noticed! The lovely people of Costco must have seen my post about being up shit creek financially. This exclusive invite arrived in the mail today. Wow, "Join Costco as an executive member by Nov. 29, 2009, and receive a $20 Costco cash card." Well, okay, Costco, but don't expect a shining review of your grocery section just because you buttered me up with a "special offer."

Last night my husband and I had another one of those touchy discussions about our finances that makes me cry. We decided we could swing one more month at the house if we make some serious budget cutbacks. Even if I don't have a sufficient workload by then (for those of you who don't know, I'm a freelance writer, so my income is subject to fluctuation), at least we will be more prepared for a move and it will be on more comfortable terms.

So what do budget cutbacks mean? Well, for starters, strict organic dieting will be out of the question for awhile. I find it sad that, in this country at least, the organic food movement is considered a luxurious lifestyle choice. I understand that organic farms lose more of their crops to pests, which drives up the price. However, I can't help but think it's also a result of demand in the wealthier classes. In general, people who have money to spend go to Whole Foods; people who don't go to Costco. And they're happy that way. When I go to "review" the grocery section at Costco, chances are I'll be the only customer even looking for organic fruits and vegetables.

When did treating one's body right become a trend among the well-off? Before there was such a thing as government certification programs, organic food was the cheapest of all. It was the food that you grew yourself, or that your neighbors grew and sold to a local market. It wasn't a trend, it was a way of life. All the fancy restaurants served exotic dishes. If you wanted something grown far away, you had to pay dearly for it. Isn't that how it should be? What's changed?

What's changed is that the world has gotten bigger. And now that the world is big- anyone at all curious about what foie gras is can do a Google search and yield over 3 million results- the trendsetting folks at the top of the financial pyramid, those with the time and inclination to pursue food as hobby, are experiencing their typical ennui. "What happened to those simple times?" they ask. "What happened to fresh apples plucked right from the tree in your backyard? What happened to those adorable old men with grubby hands and suspenders selling watermelons off the backs of their trucks in summer?" And so all that stuff is coming back, but not the way it used to be. This time, it's expensive. This time, because the world is big, organic organizations think they ought to sell big. In other words, the ultimate goal is to go wholesale-same as any other farm.

For now, it seems like a good business decision on their part, despite the fact that running a commercial organic farm is costlier than running a commercial farm that dumps pesticides all over everything and calls it a day. Organic farmers have to pay more attention to which crops they grow and when; employ creative pest solutions; and understand that, no matter what, they will lose a greater percentage of crops than conventional farms. It's natural that they should charge a little more, and because the trend among the wealthy is leaning that way, it's an investment many farmers are willing to make.

In his The Collapse of Complex Societies, Joseph Tainter asserts that the bigger an organization gets, the more it has at stake and the more likely it is to fail. I find this interesting because we as working Westerners (many of you reading this are monetizing bloggers, which means you are entrepreneurial Westerners to boot) tend to believe there are nothing but benefits when it comes to expansion. I'll be the first to admit that I started this blog hoping to grow my readership over time. Not necessarily for money purposes, but because... well, how else are you going to know you do a good job? So the focus was not merely on sustainability, but on growth; and that's the way it is for plenty of folks. Our entire economy here in the States and in many other Western countries focuses on growth. If you don't have growth, you're nothin.'

So what are some of the drawbacks to non-local sale of organic produce? Well, for starters, if you're shipping in bulk, you're going against organic principles by using a ton of gasoline. Already the trend is starting to shift from "just organic" to "local and organic" as those consumers who can afford to be picky become more aware of this hypocrisy. And the ones who can't afford it, as we already mentioned, tend not to even be interested in affording it. They think, "That organic stuff is just for rich snobs. I'll take my Bubba burgers and Bud Light any day, thank you." Obviously I am generalizing here, but if you think it's an untrue generalization, ask around in a low-income neighborhood. There's a sense of pride that comes with being able to score food cheap, to rough it while the "snobs" eat organic with their pinkies in the air.

So where does that leave large organic farms? Nowhere. Once the "just organic" trend passes among the upper classes, they're toast without a local customer base. Bankrupt. Kaputt.

Solution? If organic farming is your passion, buy a small plot of land. Maybe even suburban or urban land. Grow as much as you can using as little space as possible. If you already have a big, complicated commercial farm, sell it now. Focus on sustainability. Offer your product locally. Sell at flea markets and farmers' markets. Do CSAs. Barter with your neighbors. Subsist on your own crops and the ones you trade for on a local level. Instead of feeding into the societal delusion that we've traveled back to a time when old men with grubby hands and suspenders sold watermelons off the backs of their trucks, become the real thing. Take that plunge. Will you get rich? No. But according to Tainter, getting rich is just making it more complicated for yourself. You'll have further to fall: more land and more customers equals more loans to repay, more shipping costs to cover, more orders to screw up, more equipment to break, more staff to compensate, more pests to kill, more at stake if your crops fail, more at stake if the trend you've chosen to capitalize on passes, more migraines... to quote a popular permaculturist slogan, "work makes work." The more complicated you make it for yourself, the worse off you will be in the long run.

I look forward to hearing all your thoughts on this. I've touched on some controversial politics here, so if you don't want to leave a public comment, feel free to write dontbeawuss@gmail.com. As always, thanks so much for visiting!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Home Again!

I promised pictures from Virginia. Above is one of a tractor. You can find more at Doveland Farm. Hint: If you love animals, it's worth taking a peek.

We had a great time and feel indebted to our host, Sandra, who barely made us raise a finger. She housed us, cooked for us, showed us around the area, and even taught us the ancient mystical art of buying stuff at auction and flipping it. We got a 40s era radio and record player for forty bucks and are commissioning our engineer buddy to turn it into an MP3 player. I'll put pictures up when it's done so you can bask in its vintage elegance and get in touch if you're interested... though I'll tell you right now it may challenge my husband to part with it when the time comes.

On to more food-related matters!

Here in FL we have to solarize our soil to keep nematodes from latching onto our veggies' roots and sucking their little veggie lives away. For months I've been meaning to start a small herb patch that wouldn't need such extravagant treatment. On Monday, I finally got around to planting some parsley and chives. Hooray!

I've been reading up on home permaculture, and the number one point every author makes is that nothing will look like you think it should. There are no nice, neat little rows in this type of gardening. If your yard looks like a forest, you're doing it right.

So, am I doing it right? In the picture below, do my parsley and chives look planned, or like they just sprung up?

I know I promised to update you on the mystery project taking place in our yard. All I can tell you is that the site of said project has moved- it will now be located nearer the house. We'll probably get started on that tonight when my husband gets home from work. Exciiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitedddddddddd.

In the meantime, we dug a few beds at the old site of the mystery project. Like my herb garden, there will be no discernible rows, just lots and lots of symbiotic foods growing close together. We are currently solarizing the beds:

Solarization involves turning the earth a bit, then laying sheets of opaque plastic over the exposed soil and weighing it down to keep weeds from creeping in at the edges. As you can see, my husband and I can't afford to visit Home Depot right now, so we cut up garbage bags and weighed them down with everything from scavenged planks to beer bottles. That fence you see in the background? Yup, you'd better believe our neighbors just put it up today. The instant we have enough mature veggies to fill a gift basket, they're getting one on their doorstep. Thanks for not demanding that we clean up our hillbilly mess, neighbors!!

One last update: we're spending this weekend at Green Flamingo. Probably fishing and barbequing, in addition to volunteering on the farm. I get to eat fish again! (As mentioned previously, I seldom buy fish at the grocery store.) It's gonna be sweeeeeeet. Will have pics Monday.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Salt, Books, and Pineapples (Not a Recipe)

Did I neglect to mention that I live in an unmatched subtropical paradise? This pic was taken in the town where I was raised, about an hour's drive from where I currently reside. Go ahead, it's okay to be jealous (all two of you who aren't also Floridians).

I started thinking the other day about how to include "extras" like sugar and salt in a local diet and discovered that, according to numerous amateurs with internet access, making one's own sea salt is a snap. It's just filter and boil; ba-da-bang, ba-da-boom. Apparently it takes about 2 liters to make 6 oz., so for my test run, the contents of this 32 oz. pistachio container should suffice.

In case you were worried about me wasting an hour's worth of gas to make this trip for a few lousy ounces of salt, I was in town visiting my mom anyway, so ha.

Results will be in by this weekend. Stay tuned!

In other news, I'm excited that I didn't have to wait for Christmas to pick up these books.

The Urban Homestead by Kelly Coyne and Erik Knutzen, and Toolbox for Sustainable City Living by Scott Kellogg and Stacy Pettigrew. Both are available on Amazon if you'd like to read along with me. Book reviews imminent.

Now I leave you with this picture of a pineapple I brought to Green Flamingo yesterday for planting.

Mmm, pineapple. I even brought it in the box that the books came in, since Liz and Mary spread flattened boxes underneath their soil to keep weeds from coming through. So I am already developing more of a waste-not-want-not mentality. Go me!!

If you have an inspiring true DIY story about farming/gardening, home saltmaking, urban homesteading, or anything else you'd like me to share, please let me know. Also, starting next Friday, I will be paying tribute to a Chickenless Cook of the Week. Despite the name, this honor may go to any non-celebrity engaged in any food-related profession or hobby who demonstrates a healthy sense of adventure. I said this blog would not follow a single diet philosophy, and I stick by that; so don't be afraid to email me suggestions for non-locavores. Anyone who uses food to make you go, "Yowza!" is eligible.

Now quit reading and go cook something already.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

The Chickenless Chick: Volunteer Farmer

The non-wussiest place that I get food is Green Flamingo Organics. In order to grow this parsley and many of my fridge's other contents, two chickenless ladies named Liz and Mary toil daily in the Florida sun, surrounded by Florida bugs, sacrificing Florida indoor plumbing, to achieve their dream of a sustainable farm life. As of a few weeks ago, so do I, as a volunteer; and I encourage every cook to seek out a similar experience. I could extoll the benefits of supporting local agriculture, but my husband talks many of your ears off about this on a daily basis. So here's a motive that has more to do with the theme of this blog: You'll develop a new appreciation for weird food. Allow me to demonstrate.

Do you know what this is?

It's Malabar spinach. That's right, spinach. I had no idea spinach grew on a vine like that. Now, when I got it home, I learned that this particular type releases a gelatin-textured substance into your mouth when you chew it. A few weeks ago, I would have been grossed out. But because I worked on this spinach myself, crushing the berries in my hands and scattering the seeds on the ground, I wanted to like it. I pictured how idyllic it was out there on the farm, how the landscape would have missed it if it were gone. So yesterday I brought home more. And if I don't like what I do with it this week, I'm going to bring home more still.

Palette-expanding, no? I'm rather proud.

I believe that creamed spinach or another more gelatin-textured dish may be in order. If you have any ideas, feel free to let me know. And be sure to visit Doveland Farm for more pics of Green Flamingo.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.