Minnesota

If you are on any type of local food listserv in Minnesota, you’ve received an invitation, or two, or ten to the Institute for Agriculture and Trade Policy’s Food + Justice = Democracy national meeting, convening September 24 -26 in downtown Minneapolis.

IATP’s goals for the convergence are lofty; the conference is billed as a national meeting to change the food justice narrative, where “participants will co-create a national food justice platform to push our government and our political leaders to prioritize a fair, just and healthy food system.”

February has arrived. I had dreaded the month’s arrival, certain that I would be sick and tired of eating "winter" foods by this point in the journey. My end of summer self told my future winter self that there was only so much joy to be had in eating my homemade canned goods, frozen vegetables, and the root vegetables and squash squirreled away in the garage. I had resolved that my taste buds would suffer and I had prepared myself for the worst. Turns out root vegetables proved me wrong.

My other half visited the River Market Co-op of Stillwater and brought home yummy delights, both familiar and some not so. The foreigner to our kitchen were chestnuts, from Iowa. He was excited, and I curious. “‘Tis the season to have a chestnut," he declared.

Cold air creeping in through the cracks raged it’s battle with the warm air wafting from the fireplace. Dinner was consumed, the kids were in bed, and all was quiet except for the rockin’ tunes played by none other than 89.3 The Current. Nat King Cole’s version of “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire”’ cycled through our heads. Admittedly, our fireplace is the fool-proof version that turns fire on and off with a simple flip-of-the-wrist switch. So, roasting chestnuts on an “open fire” would not be an option.

When I was young, my grandfather lived in the country near Rochester, Minnesota, and had an abundant vegetable garden. Walking down its paths in the spring, you would see what would be rows of carrots, greens, potatoes, eggplant, a trellis where the french beans would climb, and then, in the corner of the garden, a huge rhubarb plant, already lush and green. I remember pulling up a stalk of that rhubarb with all my might. Dipping it in sugar I would crunch into it and pucker my lips as its juice ran down my chin. Its taste always reminds me of this childhood happiness. I must say this is still my favorite way to eat rhubarb—there is a spontaneous joy in picking a stalk, cutting off the leaves, and eating it then and there. Yesterday afternoon, I was in the Linden Hills Coop in Minneapolis and saw one of the cashiers sitting at a table taking her break.

As a 20-year marketing professional living in the Twin Cities, going to the grocery store used to be all business. I had my list of items to get, but I also made it a habit to take note of product packaging, shelf placement, and displays before heading to the checkout.

In 2000, that all changed when my husband and I bought a 172-acre farm and moved 70 miles north to Mora, Minnesota. Here, we established our certified organic farm where we grow apples, plums, and veggies; and we produce maple syrup each spring. I have also joined the incredibly fascinating world of beekeeping.

"Sometimes all people should get is a big bunch of blueberries," Everett Myers tells me. "Sometimes the blueberries are so good that everyone should just get those. Twelve pints at a time." I laugh a little bit, letting on that I might not be all that thrilled with such a shipment. "With recipes and information about how to use them, how to store them, things like that," Everett continues. His point is that when blueberries are at their peak, when they exhibit their most complete blueberry-ness, they should be consumed like crazy. Get your fill of blueberries when they're good! What are you waiting for?

Here's what most people in Minnesota and Nebraska and Idaho don't know and would never suspect about New York City: we are a farming town.

So here I sit, day after day, week after week, writing about my favorite local foods and places, like The Craftsman in Minneapolis, Flatbush Farm in Brooklyn, and Peace Coffee, roasted in the Twin Cities.

Two and half years ago, in the fall/winter of 2006, a new eating and drinking establishment opened on the border between Park Slope and Prospect Heights, Brooklyn. Called the Flatbush Farm, it won over locals almost immediately with its friendly bartenders, inventive drinks, hearty daily specials, rustic interiors, and enormous candle-lit backyard.

It was just over 6 weeks ago when I joined my first CSA, bought Barbara Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, and started hunting down restaurants serving local, sustainable foods.