I have the bad habit of sometimes becoming so immersed in a good book that I can't seem to think or talk about anything else for a while. When the book happens to be about someone who is actually "living the good life", then we are in real trouble. I came down with an extra serious case of this when I read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, which is about the year when she and her family moved from Arizona to Appalachia, in order to lead a rural life, during which they vowed to buy only food raised in their own vicinity, grow it themselves, or do without. Consequently, when I went to write in my journal about it, I filled up half a notebook with everything I had learned from it. I then went on to fill up the other half, tracing my path from being someone who got all her food from the center aisles of the supermarket, where everything comes in packages, through Austin, Indonesia and Denmark, back through Austin, to now being someone who mostly shops just the perimeter of the supermarket, or not in a supermarket at all. This morning, when I sat down to transfer that entry to the blog, I realized that by the time you guys finished reading it, you could have driven to the bookstore or the library, and obtained a copy for yourself. So, I've decided to summarize:
Read this book!
There. That's it. That's my summary. Too brief, you say? Well, perhaps I could give you a teaser:
Did you know that American turkey producers have bred the sex gene out of our turkeys? In order to give them that breast-heavy body and ultra-rapid growth, they left them "with a combination of deformity and idiocy that renders them unable to have turkey sex", which may leave you to wonder where baby turkeys come from. Well, since you asked, I will tell you. Some lucky people out there get to spend their days wrangling turkey sperm, then it is introduced to the females artificially. Kingsolver says "If you are the sort of parent who threatens your teenagers with a future of unsavory jobs when they ditch school, here's one more career you might want to add to the list."
From this teaser you might assume that this is another of those scare tactic books that leaves you feeling that there is nothing left out there that is safe for us to eat. Rest assured, that is not the case at all. Instead it leads you on a journey through the seasons, telling you about all the great foods that are available during each, where to find them, and how to cook and serve them. I now keep it on the shelf with my other favorite cookbooks.
By the time I got to Wimberley, I had almost finished the book, and I was desperate for a farmer's market fix. John was more than happy to accommodate me, as he already had a trip to Austin in mind. It seems there is a restaurant there that was featured in the recent Quentin Tarrantino/Robert Rodriquez collaboration Grindhouse, and he was itching to find it and have lunch there. It's called Texas Chili Parlor, and turned out to be just his kind of dive (although probably not the least bit concerned with using what's in season). He opted for the spicy beef chili, but I thought the white pork version with Hatch chilies was outstanding. John can't wait to bring the kids and his buddy Tim back to try it.
While at the farmers' market, we picked up an awesome publication called Edible Austin. In it I discovered that that the Whole Foods Culinary Center has arranged a foodie bus trip out to the Arnosky's barn in Blanco. I also found out that our local Thunder Heart Bison won first place honors at the Gallo Gold Medal Awards, that Damian Mandola's new winery is about to open up near us, that my favorite baker in Fredericksburg is branching out into farm-fresh cuisine, and that even our own little Clifford's wine bar has announced the unveiling of their new "seasonal, mostly local, and oft-changing menu". Thus it seems that, through sheer, dumb luck, we have planted ourselves right smack dab in the middle of Foodie Heaven!
We hauled all of our treasures from the farmers' market back to Wimberley with us, fixed a lovely little dinner feast from it, and dined looking out over our domain. The odd thing is that, although there were giant sheets of metal roofing strewn all about us, flags of tarpaper waving from most of the trees, and deep scratches and broken lights on my car, we really didn't give a flip! We were just so happy to be here.
Read this book!
There. That's it. That's my summary. Too brief, you say? Well, perhaps I could give you a teaser:
Did you know that American turkey producers have bred the sex gene out of our turkeys? In order to give them that breast-heavy body and ultra-rapid growth, they left them "with a combination of deformity and idiocy that renders them unable to have turkey sex", which may leave you to wonder where baby turkeys come from. Well, since you asked, I will tell you. Some lucky people out there get to spend their days wrangling turkey sperm, then it is introduced to the females artificially. Kingsolver says "If you are the sort of parent who threatens your teenagers with a future of unsavory jobs when they ditch school, here's one more career you might want to add to the list."
From this teaser you might assume that this is another of those scare tactic books that leaves you feeling that there is nothing left out there that is safe for us to eat. Rest assured, that is not the case at all. Instead it leads you on a journey through the seasons, telling you about all the great foods that are available during each, where to find them, and how to cook and serve them. I now keep it on the shelf with my other favorite cookbooks.
* * * * *
By the time I got to Wimberley, I had almost finished the book, and I was desperate for a farmer's market fix. John was more than happy to accommodate me, as he already had a trip to Austin in mind. It seems there is a restaurant there that was featured in the recent Quentin Tarrantino/Robert Rodriquez collaboration Grindhouse, and he was itching to find it and have lunch there. It's called Texas Chili Parlor, and turned out to be just his kind of dive (although probably not the least bit concerned with using what's in season). He opted for the spicy beef chili, but I thought the white pork version with Hatch chilies was outstanding. John can't wait to bring the kids and his buddy Tim back to try it.
While at the farmers' market, we picked up an awesome publication called Edible Austin. In it I discovered that that the Whole Foods Culinary Center has arranged a foodie bus trip out to the Arnosky's barn in Blanco. I also found out that our local Thunder Heart Bison won first place honors at the Gallo Gold Medal Awards, that Damian Mandola's new winery is about to open up near us, that my favorite baker in Fredericksburg is branching out into farm-fresh cuisine, and that even our own little Clifford's wine bar has announced the unveiling of their new "seasonal, mostly local, and oft-changing menu". Thus it seems that, through sheer, dumb luck, we have planted ourselves right smack dab in the middle of Foodie Heaven!
We hauled all of our treasures from the farmers' market back to Wimberley with us, fixed a lovely little dinner feast from it, and dined looking out over our domain. The odd thing is that, although there were giant sheets of metal roofing strewn all about us, flags of tarpaper waving from most of the trees, and deep scratches and broken lights on my car, we really didn't give a flip! We were just so happy to be here.
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