I picked up some fresh fruits along with a large bag of cough drops last week at the grocery store. I hadn’t made it to the farmer’s market in two weeks and it was another five days until market day.
Went to eat an orange later that night, only to discover that it had come from, of all places, South Africa.
Now, usually I check where my produce has come from and try to choose as locally as possible. (Even while sniggering at Vons new ‘local’ marketing strategy–sorry, northern California is not local…but it is better than Chile.) But I was feverish and figured that I live in a citrus state and some oranges are still in season so it should be fine.
But no. My less than mediocre orange came all the way from South Africa to please my Southern California whim for a little citrus.
Does this strike you as a preposterous waste of someone’s time, energy, and fuel? Me too.
And it wasn’t even very good. (Well, I don’t look too good when I travel from South Africa to here, either, so what should I expect?)
So I was extra glad to get back to the farmer’s market today. I love knowing the people who grow my food and knowing that I’m helping them…grow food. I’m sorry I’m going to be missing so many of the winter months, I’m curious to see what the farmers will have by way of cold-weather crops.
We’re planning a trip up the central CA coast while Emrich is here. There is lots of interest in local food up there and I’m already mapping out places I want to stop. This includes a goat farm. I’m really excited about the goat farm. It’s going to be the highlight of the trip for me, I think. Big Sur vs. goat farm.