Relationships, Not Transactions

It clicked when I was talking to my favorite pastured pork vendor a few months ago - I have a relationship with the food that I eat, and every day, I make choices about how distant or close this relationship is.

For most of my life, I treated my purchase of food as just a simple financial transaction. I would take my hard-earned dollars, and exchange them for food. This was basic commerce between me and the supermarket - in some ways our interests were aligned (our mutual objectives were met if I spent my money and received desired food in return), and in some ways our interests diverged (I wanted to capture the biggest bang for my buck, and therefore I might shop around or only buy things on sale). I didn't care about the well-being of the supermarket, and or where the heck the broccoli / apples / whatever foodstuff was grown or produced. If the broccoli looked fresh and the right price, I would buy it. And if it wasn't, I might try somewhere down the street. It was just business.

My perspective started to change when I started shopping regularly at the Mountain View farmers' market several years ago. I started to see the same people every week - Paul from Super Sweet hawking stone fruit in the summer and citrus in the winter, and the hipsters from Happy Boy Farm with their funny and informative labels on winter squash and summer melons spurring me to buy things I had never even heard of before. I would ask Jim from Pampero Ranch about grass-fed beef and different cuts of meat, and we might swap stories about our young toddlers. Paul from Hain Ranch would tell me about why everyone should learn to butcher a chicken, and then get into the history of his 4th generation farm and how his son might come back to the land after working in high-tech in LA. I would always be sad at the end of summer when my friends at Kashiwase Farms would bring the last of their organic peaches, nectarines and plums for the season. I would be grateful when Sylvia from Prevedelli Farms would save me some of my favorite organic warren pears when I got to the market late. And I eventually made it out to TLC Ranch near Watsonville, so my daughter Kaiya could run around with the pasture-raised piglets and walk among the free-range chickens.

When I could talk to Rebecca or Paul or Jim, it was easy to see and be more conscious of the fact that someone was actually growing the food that I was buying. Someone plants the seeds, cares for the orchards, and raises the animals with care. And in the case of the farmers' market, someone gets up way before dawn on Sunday mornings, rain or shine, to drive a couple hours and bring me the apples/carrots/pork chops that I eat every week. This isn't just a simple transaction of money and food, it's a relationship with people based on trust, respect, shared values and mutual dependence. I trust and rely on these hard-working farmers to provide me with the healthy, delicious, sustainable food that our family consumes every week, and they rely on me and other loyal customers to come back every week to buy the food they produce.

And this is what dawned on me - I have always had a relationship with the food that I eat, and the people who grow it. When I was shopping at Safeway, this relationship was like with a stranger I passed on the street that I didn't notice or pay attention to - anonymous, distant, non-existent. I didn't give a second thought to who or what was on the other end of this transaction - the farmer who produced the food, how or where the food was grown, whether it was someone that shared my values or that I could trust to grow the food that would feed my children. Whereas at the farmers' market, this relationship feels like that of a good friend or neighbor - full, deep, gratifying. I can look people in the eye, ask questions, have them know my name and my family, visit their farm, and have an actual relationship.

And this is what hit me the hardest - just like any relationship, there is a trust and expectation (in a good way) that we will each do our part to care for each other and hold up our end of the bargain. And when I have this relationship with the food that I eat (and the people who grow it), going to the market is not just “shopping” – it’s about seeing old friends, being neighborly and taking care of important people in my life. It matters if I decide to walk over to the market on Sunday morning – and it has an impact if I decide I’m a no-show because I’m too lazy or because it’s too cold or rainy. I wouldn’t bail on a friend that’s counting on me – and now I realize that I have a relationship with the food I eat, I’m going to treat it with the respect that it deserves.

Chow Food Bar

I'm starting to wonder if there are a lot more restaurants out there that care about sustainable food and sourcing food from local, family farms than is readily apparent.

There are well-known Bay Area restaurants that have pioneered and become famous for sourcing sustainably grown food from local, family farms - places like Chez Panisse in Berkeley, Oliveto in Oakland, and Flea St. Cafe in Menlo Park. And in the last couple years, I have become familiar with more restaurants that might not be as famous, but where a relationship with who grows the food and how it is grown is important. For example, Mayfield Bakery in Palo Alto highlights on their menu many of their suppliers that are local farms like Mariquita Farms, Heirloom Organics, and Happy Quail Farms.

I have assumed that these restaurants are few and far between, but I keep finding more and more restaurants that have sourcing from local, family farms as a core piece of who they are - whether it be through restaurant reviews in the Metro, or just by noticing the subtle touches on a menu at an understated restaurant like Chow.

I have been a fan of the Chow family of restaurants for many years, starting with Chow in the Castro and Park Chow near Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. After not visiting Chow for several years, at a recent visit to Chow in Danville, I noticed that many of the items on the menu were organic (pork, chicken, eggs, dairy, juice, etc.) but without being too loud about it. I decided to inquire more about it, eventually having a conversation with their general manager - and I really liked what I heard:

• Understated (not necessarily very "public") commitment to sourcing local, organic and sustainable food from local, family farms
• Emphasis on quality and relationships with suppliers, through well-respected distributors such as Veritable Vegetable and GreenLeaf as well as with some farms directly like Alhambra Valley Farms,
• Realistic and frank perspective on balancing quality/taste and sourcing locally. For example, Chow believes it can get top quality beef from Marin Sun Farms and dairy from Straus Family Creamery, and at the same time has not found a local quality, reliable sustainable pork vendor so they source from a small family farm in Iowa.
• People who are excited and care about not only providing a great product, but also with a commitment to running their business in a way that nurtures healthy relationships with the people that grow and produce the food they are buying

Looking at Chow's menu and website, you would never know how deep their commitment is to local, sustainable food. And even though I know that local + small family farm often equals fresh + delicious, it's heartening to see that philosophy embodied by not only individuals, but also restaurants like Chow.

Change, One Person At A Time

My mother-in-law is a first generation, Cantonese immigrant matriarch who scraped her way to a comfortable life for herself and her family with the hallmarks of millions of immigrant family stories before her: working hard, being resourceful, managing every penny like it was the last. I doubt she has ever been opposed to eating fresh and healthy food, but I also imagine she has never given much thought to how something is grown - value is paramount in ensuring everyone gets fed on whatever budget they had growing up. She lives in the San Fernando Valley in LA, and shops often at Chinese supermarkets in Monterey Park, where the best price can be had - and you never know where the food comes from. She is one of the last people that I thought I might influence to participate in any kind of good food movement. But what a difference shopping at a good farmers' market can make.

My mother-in-law recently spent a couple weeks with us in the San Francisco Bay Area. She joined me on our Sunday morning routine, shopping at the Mountain View farmers' market. As we walked, my favorite vendors greeted me by name, I picked up a bag of satsumas that she knew her granddaughter would devour, and she saw the richness and diversity of food that I could buy at the market - fruits, vegetables, eggs, beef, cheese, nuts, honey and much more. As idyllic as this experience sounds to me, I'm not sure she gave much thought to any of this. I'm guessing she thought it was a pleasant walk that was one of those funny, "green" things that her odd son-in-law did.

And then she found the chestnuts.

Fresh chestnuts. She was delighted to see them. I think they took her back to her childhood in Hong Kong. She bought a couple pounds, took them home to cook, and she was in heaven. She kept asking me to taste them, and asked if I liked them. She lamented that she wouldn't be around for another Sunday market to buy more. She asked us to buy a couple pounds for her the next weekend and ship them to LA (!). And then, when she got back home to LA, she looked up farmers' markets near her (!!!) - and plans to hit up the Calabasas market on Saturday, and/or maybe the Agoura Hills market on Sunday.

Wow. Really? Who knows if my mother-in-law will become a regular farmers' market shopper, or develop an appreciation for fresh local produce, or develop any relationships with the people who grow the food she eats. But, man, this is an inspiring step. If my mother-in-law can take this step, I am optimistic that many, many more can.

Restaurant Reviews + Sustainable Food

In my own personal quest to connect to the food we eat, I often feel like I'm on this journey alone. I know there a lot of people around the world that are on a similar journey - and I can read about them in books like Omnivore's Dilemma and Animal, Vegetable, Miracle or online at green info/news websites like Grist. But when it comes to what I encounter and interact with everyday (especially in the media), I don't necessarily see a mainstream consciousness.

So I was pleasantly surprised when I recently picked up a copy of the Metro Silicon Valley (free weekly paper where I live), and the featured restaurant review talked just as much about the externalities of cheap, fast food burgers and reasons to look for sustainably raised meat as it did about the restaurant (Slider Bar Cafe in Palo Alto). The review pointed out that the beef came from Niman Ranch and Masami Farms, and that dairy from Clover Stornetta Farms (and when I looked on their website, they have a page dedicated to their suppliers). I have been curious about Slider Bar Cafe, based on the recommendations of a couple friends, and now this bit of info bumps this restaurant on my list of new places to try.

This kind of restaurant review (by Stett Holbrook, food editor at the Metro) may be out of the norm, but much appreciated in these parts where understanding where our food comes from is just as important as how good it tastes.

New Year's Resolution

So buying produce, meat, and eggs directly from the farmers' market makes it easy to know where a lot of the food eat is coming from. When I go to the Mountain View farmers' market, I know that Lucy takes care of the free range chicken and duck eggs that we cook in our omelettes, and Jim raises the grass fed cattle that becomes the beef that we put in our beef stew, and Paul has been taking care of the satsuma, nectarine and asian pear orchards that bear the fruit we enjoy. I have a lot of confidence that the food is, on the whole, produced sustainably and with care, and that if I have any questions, I know I can just ask. But what about the wheat in the spaghetti or pasta sauce that we buy at the farmers' market or grocery store, or the hot dogs that are served at my daughter's daycare or just about anything when we're eating out? How do I know if any of this is produced sustainably, or good or bad for me?

Well, it turns out that we can ask.

We can ask Santa Cruz Pasta Factory, and Steve will write me back telling me about the wheat/grain suppliers for the pasta that they make. And we can ask LunchMaster, who is the company who caters my daughter's lunches at daycare, and Felicia will tell me a little about their vendors. And if I happen to see an emphasis on local and organic on the menu at a restaurant, like I did at Chow, I can ask and have someone like Andrew email me back and tell me about the farms they source from directly or indirectly.

Last year, I took a big step in really shifting most of our grocery shopping to direct from the farmer, rancher or producer, primarily through shopping at farmers' markets (so much that more than half of our grocery bill is spent at local farmers' markets). This year, I want to continue in that vein as much as possible - and also not ignore the relationship (or lack thereof) with the food that we consume otherwise. I can ask the question of the people that we buy from, get more information, gauge the responses, and change our consumption and behavior accordingly. The more I know, I can make more informed choices about all the food we eat.

I want to know if the food is good to eat - and good to think. If one restaurant serves delicious food and cares about the relationship with the food, how it was grown, and where it came from, maybe I feel better about supporting them. And if that one vendor doesn't know or care where their food comes from, maybe I don't want to support them as much, or at all. Having that information is so empowering, and I'm going to spend this year asking those questions.