Dark Days Meal of the Week: Cauliflour, Duck and Green Salad

Once again, here’s my weekly post on a meal that does its best to be made of local, organic and ethical food–even in the darkest days of winter.  If you want more info on the Dark Days of Winter Challenge or if you want to see what other bloggers out there ate last week, click here.

Local cauliflower with Indian spices.

If my Dark Days Meal this week sounds random, that’s because it is. Since I have lots of family staying with me while DH is in the hospital, we have many cooks in the kitchen and plenty of food shoppers.  I don’t try to control where people buy food—hey, we’re all adults.  I just make sure my in-laws know where and when the farmer’s markets are, where the organic veggie shop is, where to buy meat etc.  That doesn’t stop them from going to the grocery store in a pinch and buying something out of season.  I have bananas in my house for the first time in years–but I’m not complaining.  You can’t change people’s minds or habits by being obnoxious–well, or at least I’m not willing to try that technique!

My mother in law sniffed out the duck dish at our local butcher shop. I steered her there originally because I’d already interrogated him about where he buys his meats (when I asked him, they all came from withing 100 kilometers!), how he prepares them, what the animals eat and how they’re raised etc, etc.  I know when we buy meat there, that we’re not eating something horrific.  My mother in law has fallen in love with the place because of the quality of the food and, frankly, the artisanship that goes into the preparation.

A duck dish called galantine and our semi-local salad.

The duck dish was prepared by the butcher and includes breast meat, fat and a stuffing made with the organ meats and seasonings. I liked  the way that it incorporated all the parts of the duck.  I think if you’re going to kill an animal for food, you better eat the whole thing.

My MIL also made a salad using the local lettuce (from a farm within walking distance)  I’d stocked in the fridge and even some local olive oil (from about 25 kilometers away) I keep on hand for the dressing. She also added an avocado and some mushrooms she’d picked up at the grocery store–I can’t tell you where these came from.  Again, I’m not the food police.

I decided we also needed something warm, so I used a head of cauliflower (again from the organic farm within walking distance). I fried up a tiny piece of organic, fair trade ginger (from Cameroon–no, Africa is not near by!) and some local garlic with some cumin seeds (not local), then I fried up the cauliflower and added a little turmeric and cayenne pepper (again, the spices are not local).

We washed it all down with a wine that my father in law had picked up from a vineyard in town–again, within walking distance.  He bought a 5 liter box of it–it sounds tacky by American standards, but with 5 people drinking wine at every meal, you can go through a lot of bottles otherwise!

How keeping it simple can help you through challenges.

This holiday season with my husband’s car accident and all that has ensued, I wondered if I’d be able to keep up a simple, downshifted existence.  Reflecting back on the past three crazy weeks, I think that keeping things simple has helped me tremendously and will continue to serve me well. The simple life is not only relevant in times of crisis, but life-saving.

Everyone faces different challenges in life, but I think that there’s a common thread in the difficulties we all experience.  During the most challenging days, I found myself looking back on struggles friends and family had told me about in the past for wisdom.  You may never face exactly the same worries, but someday you may find yourself in a situation where the same coping skills will help.   In the past weeks, I never ceased to find myself thankful NOT to have to worry about certain things because of our downshifted lifestyle.  I also found that living simply had given me access to certain resources that helped me be more resilient during the hardest moments.

If you ever find yourself in hard times, living the simple life means you don’t have to worry about certain additional complications.

Money is less of a problem when your finances are under control and your needs are few. DH and I have zero debt.  We also know exactly how much it costs us to live month to month and what items we can cut out if we need to.  We have savings and can tell exactly how long they will last–enough time for us not to have to worry about money in the medium term.  Our savings should easily outstretch any time of need due to our low cost of living.

I can’t imagine worrying about my husband’s health and money at once, although I know many, many people face that problem.  In addition to our low cost of living and careful budgeting and saving, we also live in a country with a fantastic notion of social security.  I got tears in my eyes when the secretary in the intensive care unit told me that everything was taken care of–because I know this is not the case everywhere in the world.  The government will foot the entire bill, and later, they will go after the other driver’s insurance company for the reimbursement.  We don’t have to scramble to make ends meet.

DH and I have been frugal not simply with our money but also with our time, which means we don’t have overwhelming responsibilities and time commitments in addition to our current concerns. We don’t have a large apartment that demands a lot of upkeep or complex investments that need tending to.  If I’d had a job, it is almost certain that I would have been forced to quit it–but I’m lucky enough to have time and money to devote to more pressing needs.

We live a low-maintenance lifestyle that is easy to keep up even in times of crisis.  I cook much of our food from scratch, and I originally thought this would make things harder, however, I have plenty of dry staples so I can usually whip up a meal in a pinch out of something that’s in the cupboard–even with guests.  This is handy because I have in-laws staying with me.  The hot box is also a lifesaver.  I simply chop up and boil whatever I have on hand, stick it in the hot box and return to a warm meal in the evening.  I have very easy to care for clothing so laundry is a snap–stick in the machine and dry on the rack nearby when it’s done.  Cleaning is completely easy even with guests since our apartment is small and uncluttered.

Living simply allows you to build certain strengths that help during tough times.

Because we don’t spend so many hours working, consuming, shopping, entertaining ourselves and maintaining possessions, we’ve invested plenty of time in our relationships with family and friends. I cannot even begin to express the kind of support we’ve had from loved ones.  We have MORE help and support than we can even use, which is incredibly reassuring.

We have time for reflection and spirituality in our lives. Through this crisis, I’ve definitely noticed that people who have a sense of what life is about and a clear idea of their relationship with life and death (among other great questions), have a leg up on coping.  I don’t attend church and don’t consider myself religious in any traditional sense, but I have a very active meditation and yoga practice and a strong and stable philosophy or understanding about spirituality.  I don’t often discuss religion or spiritual beliefs, but I will say that nothing can replace knowing what you think/believe BEFORE a crisis hits.  I don’t believe in heaven or reincarnation in any true sense of the words, but a stable, reflective outlook on life is perhaps the best coping strategy I’ve employed.  When you over-commit yourself in terms of time and money, you really lose out on your ability to draw on spiritual and philosophical reserves–in my own experience at least.

DH and I both have active creative and social interests. I have not only this blog, but also several other cheap, accessible and easy to maintain creative outlets that are  there for me when I have time and need to return to some sense of ‘normal’ functioning.  DH is a little more separated from his typical activities because of his energy levels and his stay in intensive care, but he’s already started to listen to music and work on his  Sudoku puzzles again when he has energy.

Sometimes you see people flustering about as if they were already at the point of breaking–when daily life already has such an effect on you, it makes you wonder what you’ll do in an emergency. I’ve certainly felt the stresses of living a frantic and fast-paced life in the past.  I know what it’s like to feel like I can barely keep up with what’s ‘normal’ and to feel vulnerable to anything out of the ‘ordinary’ that inevitably pops up.  I’ve lived through tough times before and surely will again, but am convinced that our simpler lifestyle has made coping much easier this time around.

Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and DH update

My in-laws and I spent Christmas running back and forth to the hospital to make the most of our visiting hours with my husband. Our only decorations and presents were brought or sent to us by extended family members–we didn’t really have our minds on that kind of thing this year.  On Christmas eve we went out for a walk around our village and enjoyed the sparkling decorations that spread all over town.  We ate a catered/take out Christmas dinner and spent plenty of time amongst the beeping machines, green tile floors and hand-sanitizer of the intensive care unit.  It was, perhaps, one of the best Christmases ever.  Funny how a little shift in perspective can make a very simplified Christmas into something particularly spectacular.

I tend to enjoy simplified holidays–where you can pare things down to what’s really important. That can sometimes be hard to do with some of the ‘obligations’ that surround this time of year.  People get strange ideas about how homes ‘must’ be decorated, what kinds of meals ‘have to’ be served, the presents that ’should’ be purchased etc.  This year, we threw tradition to the wind with no apologies or excuses and, frankly, I found our minimal festivities quite satisfying.

Besides, I already have my Christmas present:  DH is fully awake and out of his coma with no apparent brain injuries–that alone is reason to celebrate. He also has avoided infection so far in some of his worst broken bones–another reason to be thankful.  He is speaking again and eating solid food–two more major steps in the right direction.   As the nurses remove the various tubes, IV’s and sensing devices, DH is becoming more and more comfortable, independent–and impatient to move on to his rehabilitation.   I’m happy to see him so impatient to leave intensive care.  I know it means he’s getting his energy back.

It will take DH several months before he can walk and probably a year to walk normally, but he will walk again (and hopefully bike, hike and ski too). I don’t expect the months or the year to come to be easy by any means.  There will be a long process of rehabilitation and a reorganizing of all of our lives after this accident.  Still, I think I’m not alone when I say I’m very, very happy to be facing a year of rehabilitation with DH than facing some of the many other possible outcomes.

Sometimes I feel that there’s this huge buildup before Christmas–all the energy spent on shopping, advertising and frantically rushing about to see family and friends.  Suddenly Christmas and New Year’s have passed and you find yourself in what feels like a holiday hangover facing a long winter and not sure what to do next.  I don’t feel that this year.  It seems like this holiday week is a time of waking up in some way.

Our New Year is full of new plans and ideas.   Yes, our lives are–and will continue to be–turned upside down by DH’s car accident.  So much is going to change–but as with all change, mixed in with the difficulties and the stress will be plenty of new and exciting directions to follow.

Heating in hard times.

I intended never to use the heater this winter.  It was a challenge DH and I had made to ourselves, but I had to back off from that goal for a few compelling reasons. I’d like to try again next year, however.  Regardless, since there’s an energy crisis brewing in France where 8 nuclear reactors are down and a nasty cold front is sweeping the country, I may have reason to apply my coping skills.  I like knowing what I will do if I find myself without electricity and heat.

My first reason for reversing my stance on the heater is that I now have 3 other people to consider: my husband’s mother, father and brother. Since DH’s accident, they’ve been staying with me partly to make sure I’m not alone in this difficult time and partly to be close to DH’s hospital so they can visit.  They arrived at my apartment before my plane landed and turned on the heat–and, of course, I’m glad they did.  DH and I chose a heatless lifestyle for ourselves, not for his parents.  And it would just be insane to be a stickler about something like the heater when so much else is going on.  Since they’ve been staying with me, I’ve given my in-laws free reign over the heater, how warm it will be and when to turn it on. That way, I know they’re warm enough, and I don’t have to keep guessing and worrying.

However, since my in-laws know about our energy-saving ways, they’ve adopted a hybrid approach to the heat situation. They continue to use my ’stylish’ cardboard window coverings.  In fact, my father in law even helped me improve one of them so it stays put better .  They also turn on the heat only in two rooms: the kitchen and the living room where they sleep.  We all make up for the cold by dressing in really warm clothes, drinking warm liquids and going for brisk walks.  Surprisingly, when you come in from a quick walk outside, you feel a lot warmer over all. Oh, and we’ve been eating plenty of nice, fatty food and cookies that other relatives are bringing us.  Since none of us is gaining any weight (we’ve all been loosing actually), I assume that at least some of those extra calories are being burned for heat.

Even if my in-laws hadn’t decided to stay with me, I may have been forced to turn on the heater. For the first two weeks after DH’s accident, I seemed to lose all ability to tolerate cold.  I don’t know if it was due to stress or exhaustion, but simply drinking a glass of tepid water would set me shivering uncontrollably–teeth chattering and all.  I think that now that the stress has leveled off, I’m getting my cold tolerance back, but for a while I would have found it hard to go without an external heat source.

It’s nice to know we have the heater in case of emergency–which is essentially what we’ve been dealing with these past weeks. However, the news is reporting possibilities of blackouts in France and I’m keeping my eye out for that.  The temperatures here are fairly reasonable: in the 20s-30s fahrenheit.  But if you’re not moving or sitting in a house in the shade, that can pose a problem.

In case of a black out I have an uncomplicated emergency plan. I have close 100 candles that I bought when we moved into our apartment, since we get plenty of thunderstorms and electrical outages.  Since I cook on a gas range, we’ll be able to cook and heat tea.  I also have a small stockpile of empty wine bottles that we can fill with hot water to keep us warm.  If the electricity goes out at this time of year, food storage isn’t really an issue as I can put anything I want to keep cold in the windowsill (or the unheated apartment for that matter).

Dark Days of Winter Challenge: White bean, sausage and winter veggie soup.

I hope everyone will forgive me for not posting to the Dark Days of Eating Challenge for a couple of weeks  and also for not having pictures on this post–we ate everything before I even thought about it!

Since my husband’s accident, I have a different group to cook for.  My in laws are staying with me.  They are all French, so they appreciate good food and have perhaps a slightly higher standard than I do when it comes to meals.  They tend to be slightly more . . .elaborate in their tastes.  I can get by with a single and complete vegetarian dish for dinner, but they usually want to eat a few courses and meat is more important to them.  At least I’m back in my village in France where I’ve already given the butcher the full interrogation about his methods, so I feel pretty comfortable with the meat I’m serving.

I made this recipe in my hot box–which is absolutely perfect for our hectic schedule of hospital visits and paperwork.  Also, the recipe made me happy because it was steamy, warm, easy and full of vegetables–and my in-laws loved it and want to learn my recipe and have even been inspired to build their own hotboxes–in France they call them ‘marmites norvegiennes’–Norwegian pots?  Go figure.

How local organic and ethical are the ingredients?  The beans I bought in bulk from the organic coop we shop at and I know they come from somewhere in France, but I cannot for the life of me remember where–sorry!  The vegetables all came from our local organic grocer who also runs a farm within walking distance from my home.  The sausage was made in town by our butcher from pork he purchased from a farm 60 kilometers away.  The pigs are fed a mix of grasses and grains and are free-roaming.  Strictly, they cannot be considered organic because if they become sick, they are treated with antibiotics, however, France doesn’t allow many of the shenanigans that the US does in terms of hormones, broad use of antibiotics and the kinds of feed animals can eat (shudder).   Also, the meat in this dish is more of a seasoning, so although it is less efficient to eat meat in terms of our resources, at least we’re not overdoing it.

White bean, sausage and winter veggie soup (serves about 8 people or 4 with leftovers).

Ingredients:

• 2 cups white beans (dry)
• 2 leeks
• 4 large carrots
• 2 cloves of garlic
• plenty of fresh spinach (I had a large bowl full before I chopped it)
• one smokey sausage
• bay leaves, thyme, rosemary, salt, pepper

If using a hot box:

1. Rinse the beans and remove any pebbles!  Add the beans and the whole sausage to a large pot with a good lid–one that fits in your hot box.
2. Cover the beans and sausage in plenty of water and the salt, pepper and herbs.  Cover the pot and bring it all to a boil for about 20 minutes.
3. As everything boils, chop the vegetables into small bits, strips and cubes.
4. Add the veggies and bring back to a boil for another 5 minutes.
5. Put it all in the hot box for 6 hours.
6. Serve with bread and salad.

If not using a hot box:

The night before, bring the beans to a boil in seasoned water then let them soak all night.  Cook them until they are slightly ‘aldente’ before you add the sausage the next day.  I think the cooking time will be about 3o minutes, but you may need more.

Bread baking in a time of crisis.

Since my rather crazy and last-minute return to France and my husband’s accident, I’ve found myself baking just as much bread as before.  Sometimes food is so much more than food.  Bread-making is a process–a long one that requires concentration, patience, awareness and adaptability.  In short, it is the perfect activity in hard times.

Our standard loaf.

My husband is awake now, but there was one evening in particular where a doctor told us the chances were slim.  She had tried to pull him from his artificial coma, had yelled in his ear and attempted some other waking techniques I’d never heard of before.  But he didn’t open his eyes or squeeze her hand or give any other sign that his brain continued to function as his body did.  “Not a good sign,” she told me–yet not definitive either.

A period of waiting ensued, which I think we all initially thought would be unbearable.  When I suggested to my father and law that we make a loaf of bread, he practically leapt out of his chair.  I assumed his interest lay in the possibilities for distraction and in the relief from all those thoughts that turn in your head during such times.

We pulled out the flour, the bowls, the yeast.  I explained how breadmaking works, where I got my local ingredients and the number system by which the French label the types of flour.  (Larger numbers for whole grain, lower numbers for finely ground pastry flour).  I let my father in law kneed as I knew working with his hands would be soothing.  Working with dough always snaps me back from my thoughts and into the moment.

As he kneeded the loaf with the careful precision you often see in people new to baking, my father in law retold his bread story.  It’s a story he tells whenever we eat bread, make bread or whenever he remembers it–a story about his grandfather preparing the family’s huge batch of bread that would last them three weeks.

He remembers him folding open their giant wooden table and kneeding the bread inside, while wearing a band around his waist to keep from thowing out his back while working the huge mass of dough.  Then, the huge loaves formed and ready, the entire family would go to the village oven and meet all the other villagers to bake their bread.  Each family had a special sign on their loaves so they could be recognized after the baking. Each time I or anyone else makes bread, my father in law tells the same story.  Over time, I picture it more clearly in my mind’s eye.  It’s something I would love to see, although it comes from another time altogether.

It’s funny how some stories that people tell over and over again are annoying.  They make you roll your eyes or laugh.  Other stories, you listen to with reverence because they take you back to the past, provide you with context, history.  Each time you hear such a story you feel connected to something larger and you have a clearer idea of the significance of your own habits.  Anyway, mulling over the family’s relationship with bread had a calming effect for us in hard times as well.

My inlaws are still staying with me after nearly three weeks in order to visit my husband more easily.  Since our fist bread-making attempt together, my husband has awakened and showed significant progress and we’ve all lost some of the need for distraction and soothing activities.  But my father in law still asks me if I want to make bread–and we do.  There is something timeless in it.

Perhaps the accident will be the start of a new family tradition.

Waking up.

You will have noticed that I’ve been out of the blogging world for about two weeks now.  That’s because my husband was in a bad car crash.  It’s been hard, but the fact that he is awake and responding makes me feel very, very thankful.  Things are hardly back to normal, and he is still in intensive care, but I think I may be able to start writing again.  This blog and writing in general mean a lot to me and although my time and energy are limited by these challenging times, I have to say that I know that I won’t be right if I’m not writing.

As my husband has finally had the chance to ‘wake up,’ in a way, I feel like I’m waking up myself.  You may notice from my writing that I’m somewhat in a daze.  Frankly, it doesn’t worry me.  No emotion I might feel–or lack of emotion for that matter–would surprise me.  I’m just glad that DH and I are literally surrounded by family and friends both in close proximity and far off.  I cannot imagine going through this time alone.

I’m also so thankful for the healthcare system in this country.  My husband has received and will continue to receive care that leaves me humbled and everything is covered by the government for now.  Eventually, I understand there will be an investigation into the car crash and the insurance company of the driver at fault will reimburse the government for my husband’s health costs.  I’ll post more about the health care later.

At any rate, it is wonderful to be  back writing again and to have a space in my mind and life to devote to something other than crisis.  I have more to say, and I intend to respond little by little to my backlog of comments, but this post is the first step.  I hope you are all well.

Family Emergency

Due to a family emergency, I’ll be flying back to France today and will most likely not be posting for a while.  I hope I can post some good news soon.   Friends and family feel free to contact me personally.

Postponing purchases: the long road to a new pair of boots!

Given my focus on avoiding buying anything new and downshifting in general, I’m always so excited when I get something I ‘need’ without having to buy it. I’ve been wanting a new pair of shoes for walking and hiking for some time, but I have never wanted them enough to spend  75-200 dollars (lets not even discuss the price in euros!) for a new pair.  Since I have some serious problems with my feet, I have to be very, very careful about what shoes I select.  Generally, I cannot find them on sale because I have to be so picky.  I’ve had my eye out for a possible solution for at least six months now and had begun to think that I would simply break down and buy a pair on my visit to Southern California.  Shoes and clothes cost so much more in France, especially with the dollar being so low.  I supposed that I would bite the bullet and buy new but get a good deal sometime on this trip.

Hiking in the Alps this October with my old shoes--this trail is an easy one.

You may or may not know that hiking, wandering and walking is one of my favorite pastimes. Living in San Diego for the past few years, I generally got by on any local terrain with a pair of trail running shoes.  Since I alternated trail running and hiking, these were the perfect solution.  I’ve read a few books on people who have hiked the Pacific Crest Trail who believe that lighter type shoes work just as well as long as you train and strengthen your feet and ankles for such hiking. This system worked fairly well for me for nearly 5 years in France and in the US.  This way, I haven’t had to pack heavy boots back and forth on international trips.

However, now that we live close to DH’s parents, one of our favorite pastimes is hiking together on his home turf: the Alps (the southern ones on the border with Italy).  Scrambling over the slipping rocks in trail runners hurts my feet and ankles, I’ve discovered. The potential for cold, snowy weather also can make boots more appealing.  I’ve had my eye out for a traditional pair of hiking boots.

I’ve spent about six months mulling over this decision, all the while, hiking in a pair of tennis shoes that are self-destructing. I don’t have my camera so make a mental image of shoes with parts peeling off them, giving the effect of having winged feet.  This is impractical for hiking because it no longer holds my foot and lets dirt and moisture in!

Today, I’m packing for an emergency business trip with my dad to the snowy mountains (more on that later).  I thought it would be better to have boots than a leaky pair of tennis shoes.  My mother poked into her giant closet and found not one, but several dusty old pairs of perfectly good hiking boots. She’s had foot surgery and other problems and has several pairs of shoes she can no longer wear.  One of the pairs fit me perfectly!  I’m so excited.  Can you tell how excited I am through my writing? (DH, if you are reading this, I know you will be excited too, since you’ve been hoping I’d get new shoes–and yes, I promise, they really fit me!)

One of the Alpine lakes nestled in just the kind of terrain where it's difficult to hike in tennis shoes!

The shoes my mother gave me are perfect for me. They are soft, light, but I can waterproof them.  They are relatively low in the ankle as hiking boots go, so they shouldn’t be so clunky that I can’t keep up with DH when we hike, but they’ll protect my ankles when I’m sliding around in loose rocks.   The sturdy soles are just what I need to protect my feet.

I don’t have time to waterproof the shoes before I leave, but Mom assures me she’s worn them in the snow.  I look forward to stomping around in them tomorrow!  It all goes to show that sometimes, with a little patience, you can find just what you need without adding to the consumer cycle or dipping into your wallet.

Dark Days of Winter Local Eating Challenge

Have you heard of the Dark Days of Winter Challenge?  I hadn’t until very recently, but I love the idea of people wherever they are doing whatever they can to eat more locally especially during the difficult winter season.  The Dark Days of Winter invites anyone with a blog to write about one sustainable, local, organic, and ethical meal each week.  Anyone without a blog is welcome to post their meal in the comments section of the Dark Days challenge.

Our local Turkey hook up: turkeys from 120 miles away.

They’re attitude is fantastic, in my humble opinion: do the best you can and write about what you were able or not able to do. This is not a contest, but simply a way of raising awareness.   As part of this challenge–and just because I like the topic of local food–I’ll be posting once a week about a local meal. This week and next week, I’ll be dealing with local food issues in Southern California.  Once I get back to my village in France, life will be easy for me.  Here, I have a few struggles ahead of me.

It has been a true learning experience trying to make a local diet work in Southern California–my  apologies to those with more ties to this area if I’ve missed any hidden gems. In that case, please feel free to enlighten me!  I’m currently in what I sometimes refer to as the LA basin, and I find that it’s far more difficult to eat locally.  Perhaps it’s just the fact that I’m not so familiar with the area, but I haven’t been able to track down the same kinds of food sources as I can in my village in France.  I’ve tried internet searches and found a local organic farm (only 10 miles!), but their produce has been hard for me to track down so far.  I also shop at a nearby farmer’s market, but have learned that many of their vegetables come from the Central Valley, which is still about 150 miles away-not quite as local as I’d like.  There’s  a nearby organic/sustainable grocery store which stocks fruits and vegetables from the Central Valley as well.

Do we notice a trend here?  I guess, this local challenge has certainly got me thinking about where LA gets its food and how far you have to go before you reach anything that can support all of these people! From our village back in France, if I go for a walk, I can see farms, green houses, herds of goats and vineyards.  Around here, I see tract homes, McMansions and box malls.  I was asking some local family members if they any secret farms or other local food source.  They just laughed at me and said they may not have farms but that there are plenty of local fast food drive-throughs.  Does that count?

All jokes aside, here is the menu I have planned to cook tonight for my family:

Local-ish turkey soup with California Organic celery, onions, carrots and parsnips.  The turkey comes from Modesto, about 120 miles away.  However, it is free-range and organic which is a pretty good find.  The vegetables, again, hail from the central valley.  That’s the best I can do this week.

Backyard apple sauce. (yes, truly local and picked by me-well, except for the cinnamon and sugar).  They’re kind of small, so I haven’t decided if I’ll go through the trouble of peeling them before I toss them in the pressure cooker or not.  Anyway, they are untreated, so at least we won’t be ingesting anything bad in the peels.

The most recent apple harvest from my parents' tree. They're small and tart this year, but real fruit has a way of changing from year to year.

Home made bread with King Arthur Flour: nope, it’s not organic and it’s not local (ever see wheat crops growing in So Cal?  Me either!).   Still, it makes use of a veritable stock pile of flour my parents have in their cupboard that could very well go to waste otherwise–and King Arthur is a good company that has promised not to use genetically modified grains.  I firmly believe that wasting food you already have is just about the most unethical option available.  I’ll be making bread from this flour until it’s gone because it’s wrong, wrong, wrong to throw away food!

Well, I’m very excited about this local food challenge and will be participating in it here and in France even through the holidays.  If anyone else with a blog is doing this challenge, feel free to send me your link here.  Those of you without a blog can feel free to post in the comments either here or on the Dark Days website by following the link above.

Happy local eating!