I guess its better then silence and better then shame

I haven't done a food blog in quite some time. It's summer. My mind escapes during summer. Summer is about moving slowly and napping in the afternoon and baseball on the radio and testing my non-AC endurance. Yet a few things have combined to encourage me to delve back into food.

I received a flier in the mail from Lutheran World Relief. Normally I toss these things straight in the recycle bin, but LWR is one of the few places that receives my hard earned pennies (only A+ charity rating besides ARC) and the stark image of an empty white bowl caught my attention. More about what I found in this mailer in the next couple days.

Next, I returned to market work on Saturday. I volunteered rather than sold this week, so I became intimately acquainted with Leidenheimer bread, fig and blueberry jam, pesto, and French cheese. I realized that those who shop the market regularly know the vendors, know their stories and their locations and their family history.

Finally, I had conversations with people that made me realize, hey, others really do know that food is one of my passions and that they can turn to me for advice or discussion. They want to know market hours, the concepts behind the market, even ideas on gardening (watering would help...oops).

Sometimes I think that I can do nothing. Other times I think people have no interest in what I have to say. It's part of what fuels my desire to have those three letters behind my name, the idea that maybe if I have a PhD, perhaps people might listen to me. But now I'm realizing that I might have a voice, and maybe that voice can grow to truly be a shout through an empty sanctuary.

So Emily's brother Andrew has created a new blog in which he apparently steals my thoughts and makes them more eloquent. No...they are not my exact thoughts, but through email we have discovered we have many of the same perspectives on food. And so I took a look at his blog this morning and found this excellent sentiment:

Maybe that's it. We can only take one breath at a time. We can only take one step at a time. How are we breathing? Which way are we walking? Are we defeated before we even step out the door?

It's not about conquering the world. It's about taking the small steps. It's about walking in the right direction--even if we take a step backward, taking two steps forward to make up for it. What does this look like in the food policy sphere? It's talking to my friends about the difference between grocery store produce and the peach you pick up on Saturday morning from the market vendor. It's about being conscious with what I choose to eat and cook--choosing recipes in season, recipes that do not require fruit from Australia or veggies from Chile. It's about remembering the connections between the land, the economy, the people and the plate.

Being passionate about food can make people preachy...I don't want to be preachy. I want to share. Eating together is one of the surest ways to create community. I can barely eat alone anymore--where's the fun in that? Eating with others creates opportunities to discuss, to savor, to laugh and to breathe. It's yet another step in the right direction.

My thoughts on food, my choices on food, even the sharing of my food might not be enough to save the world. But at least I'm remembering the direction I'm walking.
Plus it saves the half bag of sour bright crawlers for those who have the stomach for that sort of thing...



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