Stepping up on the Tomato Box

As mentioned in a past post, more than a week ago, I've been tracking where my food comes from.  I thought it would be relatively straightforward, but I've had a hard time with this project.  Food labeling is rather vague in most cases and nonexistent in certain others. 

As a child of the 60s - at least that's when I can begin to remember what was in the news - I read Upton Sinclair's The Jungle, a landmark book that was actually written back in the 30s, I believe, about the meat-packing industry.  I also read Rachel Carson's Silent Spring and Diet For a New America (I've forgotten the author, regrettably).  Those books and a few others at the same time were very impressive to me.  I became passionate about recycling, the population explosion, pollution and the Back to the Earth Movement, which was very popular at the time.  I became a vegetarian eventually, to the horror of my grandmother who was certain I would become malnourished and fizzle away.  I learned about growing things, the ecosystem, biology, ecology, oceanography and any other ologies that I could.  It mattered to me very much and made more sense than anything else that I was learning or seeing in the world of adults.  I wanted to recycle everything and was very frustrated by the absence of interest in the community around me, save for a few equally concerned individuals. 

My thought when I saw An Inconvenient Truth presented by Al Gore was:  What has taken so darned long for this idea to be taken seriously?  Well, the sad truth is that it has been suppressed and jeered at by people who stood to lose their shirts if their brand of "ethics" were held up for public scrutiny. 

The whole subject is enormous and multifaceted.  I am sad to say that some of my most beloved family members and friends are those I know to persist stubbornly in denying these problems exist; at best, they ignore the issues. 

Well, back to my original thought:  The origin of the food in my cupboard and refrigerator.  I see that companies are listed as being the producers, but where the actual ingredients come from is often totally obscure.  So, this has refocused me on the practice of thinking globally but buying locally, seasonally.  That is:  If the product is not grown within 100 miles of my home, it is not meant to be eaten at this time of year.  I can wait for the season to arrive.  I don't really need to eat tomatoes year round.  Instead, I can turn my attention to winter squash and other vegetables that do grow normally in winter.  The good news is, the vegetables that are truly in season are most beneficial for me to eat now.  I am more likely to do well as the flu season invades because the nutrients found in winter vegetables boost my immune system that way.  When summer comes, and I am perspiring more (oh wait, it's Pacific Grove), I'll need the vitamin C in summer season fruits like tomatoes and strawberries. 

I am doing what I can to reduce my so-called carbon footprint and I love supporting my local farmers, who are hard-working entrepreneurs of the finest stripe.  Like one local coffee company's slogan says, "Resist Corporate Coffee!"  I'd extend that to:  Resist the entire corporate megalithic farming industry; support biodiversity.  It's critical. 

Note:  I suggest you read the above books, although there are zillions of others now to read; they were landmark works of the day.  Also - and brace yourself - see Food, Inc.  It, combined with my personal lifelong interest in local foods and ethnic cuisines, has reinforced my beliefs and convictions.