On Becoming a Locavore

I started Plenty, and I have to admit that I'm tearing through it. I've finished more than half in just over a day. Not only are they journalists -- and therefore fairly reliable as the "if your mom says she's loves you, check three sources" school of thought is ingrained in them -- but they're foodies. Both of these are completely palatable to me. (No pun intended. apparently relatable isn't a word and the only suggestion that worked from the spell check is palatable. hee hee.)

The way that they are experiencing their food is completely jealous-making. I want to pick strawberries and think it's the best thing I've ever tasted. I want to taste-test honey and realize that there is so much more than I ever imagined to it. I want to get to know the fisherman and farmers....and oh wait. I live in land-locked Dallas. So not really any fisherman. I might be adventurous in my food, but even I won't ever eat anything that comes out of the trinity.

So I went to localharvest.org, a wonderful site devoted to local farmers, ranchers, food producers. I found two farms roughly 40 miles away - one in Argyle and one in Terrel. I've contacted both for information. I also found a honey farm in Lavon - which is just north east of Wylie and only 30 miles away. I love honey. I put it in so much that it's considered one of my staples. Apparently, there's also way to make jam using honey instead of sugar. I would love to make my own jam.

But today I'm baking up something decidedly un-local: mini apple pies. Cup pies? apple tartlets? I bought two pie crusts (I hate making pie crust from scratch) and a bunch of apples and after I go to the library (but before the Burlesque class) I'm going to whip up some pies. It's a good thing Steve takes a lot of the baked goods to work!


PS - Finished TWOC. I <3 Graham Joyce. This one was right up there with what I expect from him. A coming of age story about a damaged young man. Very, Very good. Pick it up if you're so inclined. You won't regret it.