Edible Louisville

This morning I noticed a strange and interesting new magazine on the coffee table. Edible Louisville, read the title, Celebrating the Pleasure of Local Food and Beverage. I gave it a cursory flip-through, as I was getting ready to leave, and I liked what I saw.

"Hey," I said to Neil as we were having lunch at Lunch Today, "where did that Edible Louisville magazine come from?"

"Oh yeah! I got that at Heine Brothers. The cover says it's $5.95, but it was free."

It turns out that this is the latest publication from Edible Communities, which publishes similar magazines in cities across the country. And this isn't any bush league magazine, either; the design and photography look great, and it's edited by long-time Courier-Journal food editor Sarah Fritschner. This first issue contains a feature on Capriole goat cheese, gardening commentary from Jeneen Wiche, and a reprinted Wendell Berry essay. Good stuff! I'm assuming that Neil got this for free because it was the first issue, and that going forward the $5.95 cover price will be in effect, but I think I might be willing to cough up $32 for a six-issue subscription.

Tangentially related: The magazine has a little blurb about Butcher's Finest beef, which is available at ValuMarket. I had noticed that ValuMarket was carrying fresh (as opposed to frozen) local beef and had been looking forward to trying it, but this blurb, which had a definite promotional tone, turned me off. "All beef... is born and raised for its first few months on grass at participating farms throughout the state. The cattle are then shipped to the Midwest for fattening and finishing. After processing, the beef is shipped back to Kentucky." Is it just me, or does it seem totally ridiculous for anyone to call this local? My whole reason for eating local meat is to avoid the use of fossil fuels for transporting the animals/meat and to avoid the inhumane conditions and environmental problems associated with feedlots. As far as I can tell, the only way that Butcher's Finest differs from regular factory farming is that the cattle are born in Kentucky and then returned to Kentucky to be eaten. So what? I call bullshit on this whole thing.

Local goodies

I have been frustrated the last couple of weeks that Neil has had to teach on Saturday mornings, preventing us from going to the Bardstown Road Farmers Market. Yesterday I did some research and found that there's one on Sunday afternoons at Rainbow Blossom! (Just right for Lisa Lazybones. ;) It's open from 12:00 to 4:00 and they even take debit/credit. Hooray!

This market isn't as big as the one on Bardstown Road, but the selection is still ample. Pictured above is our booty. Why yes, this pescatarian will eat beef, if it's locally produced! Those patties were from Dutch Creek Farm, the same place we get our eggs from, which is not even an hour outside Louisville.

Dinner tonight was cheeseburgers made with that meat and topped (of course) with slices of tomato. We also had corn on the cob and a peach for dessert. And it was fantastic, all of it. Good god. Everything was so much more flavorful than it would have been if we had gotten from Kroger, and we got the added satisfaction of knowing that we supported local farmers and did something environmentally sound.

As a (suburban) child of the 1980s, even though I grew up knowing intellectually that produce comes from farms, in practice I didn't really think much about it coming from anywhere besides the grocery store. I also never had any concept of seasonality, since at the grocery store most things are available year-round, whether they should be or not. Produce was just one more static grocery item to buy, like cereal and soap and canned goods. Having spent most of my life feeling so utterly divorced from the origins of my food, every time I eat something local, it feels a little magical. This stuff was grown in the soil of the state I live in. It was not produced in some huge industrial operation across the country or across the world and shipped hundreds or thousands of miles to reach me, cosmetically perfect and perfectly flavorless. (I can't lie; the peach we ate tonight was ugly. I never would have bought it at the store. But it was also the best peach I've eaten in years.) No, this food is part of my geography, and, by virtue of the fact that it grows here, is meant for me to eat it. Not to get too precious or self-righteous or ridiculous, but it kind of makes my soul happy to eat this way.

So go! To the farmers markets, and to the restaurants that serve local food! Enjoy the bounty of these waning days of summer. Re-remember or discover for the first time what produce is supposed to taste like. You won't be sorry.