Scream Sorbet

I love visiting the farmers' market and being able to know where my food comes from when I cook dinner. It's good to chat with the friendly folks at Happy Boy Farms when I'm picking up squash or tomatoes, and even better when I'm enjoying lettuce from Fat Cabbage Farm or eggs from Surfside Chickens because I've visited those farms. What I have not expected as much (but I'm starting to get used to) is buying processed or prepared food and knowing where my food comes from. Kudos to producers like Scream Sorbet, who are taking the extra step to source locally and seasonally and provide transparency in where their ingredients come from - like this delicious Strawberry Lemon sorbet with Seascape strawberries from Rodriguez Ranch and lemon juice from Sun Rise Farm.

A New Family Tradition: Cherry Picking in Brentwood

Just an hour outside of San Francisco lies an abundance of small family farms in Brentwood that produce some of the most delicious summer fruits and vegetables available in the San Francisco Bay Area. In addition, many of these farms open up their orchards to families every summer for u-pick cherries, peaches and more. A non-profit called Harvest Time maintains an impressive website for agri-tourism in Brentwood, including a great farm trail map of over 40 growers in the area.

We took our 3 year old daughter, Kaiya, on her first ever trip cherry picking at Seko Farms and peach picking at Wolfe Ranch and she had a blast! I had never been to a cherry or peach tree orchard before and it was a refreshing and inspiring experience to see the orchards and share this experience as a family - I hope to make this a new, annual family tradition.

Typical Spring Dinner

Potato leek soup: Yukon gold potatoes from Full Belly Farm, leeks from Fat Cabbage Farm, onions from Swank Farm

Spinach salad: spinach from Happy Boy Farms, raspberries from Rodriguez Farms, goat cheese

Bread & olive oil: baguette from Acme, olive oil from Soul Food Farm

Tale of Two Markets

I had not realized how far I have come in wanting to know and appreciating how much I know about where my food comes from until today in two unintentionally divergent food buying experiences while visiting family in LA.

8:30am: Morning trip to Whole Foods to pick up a few things for breakfast.

While trying to find some fresh fruit to go along with our bacon, eggs and potatoes, I walked up and down the produce aisle fully expecting to find something that looked delicious while also local and preferably organic. With apples and citrus still going strong (at least in California), and early berries starting to come in, I figured I'd have my pick.

Instead, I passed organic Washington apples, conventional citrus from California, and berries from Costa Rica. The only thing that I could find that was truly local and organic - strawberries from a vendor 75 miles away in Ventura County - had quite a bit of bruised fruit and a couple packs that were moldy. Ugh. Really? No organic apples or oranges from local farms in California when they are so plentiful at local farmers' markets? Or a better selection of organic berries from one of the dozens of strawberry farms within 100 miles?

I regularly shop at Whole Foods, and although not perfect, I appreciate their commitment or leaning towards environmental sustainability. But wow, what a disappointment.

10:30am: Unplanned trip to the Calabasas farmers' market that we had never been to

Walking the aisles of freshly picked navel oranges, fuji apples, and organic strawberries, I was like a kid in a candy store. Especially after the disappointing Whole Foods trip earlier in the morning, it was so refreshing to have my pick of fresh, delicious, sustainable fruit. Kaiya and I could sample fruit from a variety of vendors from Ventura, Fresno, Bakersfield and elsewhere. And I was delighted to talk to each of these new vendors that I had never met before and learn more about where they were coming from, what they grew on their farm and how it was grown.

I know this is what I do every Sunday at the Mountain View farmers' market, but it was eye-opening to be able to do this somewhere else and on vacation, and to have the experience juxtaposed with shopping at a store that I still respect and value for its commitment to good food.

Shopping at the farmers' market 1, buying food anywhere else 0.

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.