The Aftermath

The week following the food project was probably the week that Mike and I fought the most about the project. At the time, neither of us really knew what the others' post-project plans were. We both knew that the experience had changed and educated us and that we were each going to continue eating local food to some degree....but that degree was unknown.

We should have had a formal debriefing on our exit strategy but we didn't; and our lives are busy, so that discussion fell off the to-do list pretty fast.

And so, on the first day after the project, I was craving an egg sandwich with tomatoes and orange juice for lunch so I went to Harris Teeter and just bought what I needed. Everything I needed was there...all in one store...already collected, prepared and packaged.

My thinking: I knew that we didn't have eggs at home, and that if I wanted local eggs I would have to 1) either wait until the weekend to go to the Ovis Hill farmers market or 2) drive out to the Lucas Street farmer's market where they may or may not have eggs, depending on who was there that day. And we didn't have bread for my sandwich, which I would have to make personally if I wanted local bread (the process takes 4-6 hours). I knew that we didn't have tomatoes at home either. And orange juice...no way.

So I indulged.

On the one hand, it was a very freeing experience; one that I had been looking forward to....just the simple experience of craving a particular food and having the freedom to walk into a store and buy the needed ingredients right then and there. It's the plague of convenience. We don't even realize how thankful we should be for that luxury. What you want, when you want it, no hassle.

On the other hand, I felt guilty for abandoning the project so quickly. We had worked so hard and I knew that if I just waited until the weekend I could have a completely local egg sandwich with tomatoes (no OJ though). And that if I waited, I'd be supporting Charlie Caldwell and his family rather than some giant unknown, mono-culture, mega-farm that probably doesn't pay its workers a fair days wage.

But the project was over and I had been waiting for a damn year to exercise my freedom of convenience, so I did.

And I caught damn hell for it when I came home. Mike flipped out and we both said terrible things about the others eating habits. Taken out of context the argument would probably sound pretty ridiculous but for us it is and was very serious and real. I lost my appetite and went back to work absolutely livid.

The Aftermath: things are calm now. We have a good mixture of luxury and local. Mike has his coffee and beer. I have yogurt and wine. We still haven't really had the exit strategy talk but recent events have sort of eliminated that need for the time being. I was able to buy a ton of local produce at McBee's Farm recently and Mike, on a fishing trip in the mountains with Matt a couple weekends ago, came home with a bushel of vine ripened tomatoes that they picked. So we have been making/eating totally local minestrone soups, rattetouille, homemade tomato sauce, and a variety of stir-frys. Once all that runs out, then hopefully we'll revisit the issue...and I'll keep you posted.