I'm cold in here.
I know. It’s been a while. And there is so much to talk about.
Last we spoke I was waxing nostalgic about care packages from Mom (easily worthy of several more posts). Since that time, a movement to legalize urban bee-keeping in L.A. has caught traction, Jonathan Gold has come out in defense of sharks and one enterprising South L.A. resident got to keep his urban garden going.
That, and I moved.
I’ve left the City of Angels and am now roaming the East Bay. I know, it’s a big change, I’m going to have to modify my subtitle and everything.
While Chewgooder has been nothing if not L.A.-centric, I’m determined to keep it going in a new foodshed. (I promise you’ll still find interesting information, Angelinos.)
In any case, moving is tough. And I’ve been drowning my sorrows in a pint (OK, pints) of Phish Food. It was my only comfort, that is until I got a nod from some fans. It seems that Vermont’s finest have a thing for me too, as evidenced by the above photo. The new “Brownie Chew Gooder” flavor from Ben and Jerry’s seems to be borrowing from ahem…a certain California food blogger.
The Haas apple stand photo:Natalie Burdick
A while back, while I was reading Barbara Kingsolver’s “Animal Vegetable Miracle,” I had a bona fide epiphany. Kingsolver writes about the complete lack of seasons in our current grocery store landscape. I realized for the first time in my life that I had no clue when things were naturally supposed to grow. I’d never even thought about it. I’d never grown any food, ever. We had a lawn, not a garden. No one I knew had a garden, we had never visited a working farm. I imagine then that my friends and I grew up eating produce from all over the world, all year round. Eating melons and berries in winter? Why wouldn’t we? The grocery store has a whole kiosk full of them, all the time. I decided that I ought to try to make an effort to eat the way people used to eat — dependent on what food was able to grow in their area seasonally and naturally instead of what was shipped in from another country.
That being said, my winter fruit selection admittedly only consists of one fruit, apples. I can never really tell when a persimmon is ripe (don’t lie, neither can you) and pomegranates are just kind of a lot of work, no? Continue reading