Posted June 13, 2007
I brought my Uncle Rob who was visiting from California to the Saturday Farmer's Market. He was quick to point out some of the distinct differences between Lawrence’s market and those that he frequents in the Los Gatos area in northern California.
“There’s so much meat for sale!” He pointed out the vendors selling elk, emu, goat and bison. "You’d never see these things at the markets in California.” It was fun to take him around and talk with everyone. He admired the personable nature and authenticity of our market.
Full of sausage biscuits from Flory Foods and fresh squeezed orange juice bought from Nina at her weaving and juice stand, we discussed the spring season and the produce available at each of our markets.
“Right now,” said Uncle Rob, “we have tons of artichokes, delicious strawberries, and these fantastic Bing cherries.” I showed him that we have vendors selling great mushrooms, amazing asparagus, mixed lettuces and greens. I said that one of the interesting things about a Midwestern market is that because of the climate change, some of the available produce has a little mini season of its own. For example, in Lawrence, asparagus is only available for a few weeks in the spring, and corn will be available for just part of the summer. It's as if the land is telling us, "this is what I'm producing, this is what's going to taste the best, and this is the time it'll taste best." I remember at the California markets how the same foods are available the entire season, and often the whole year. It's a easier to hear what the land is saying here in Lawrence.
As we talked to the farmers and shopped for different products, my uncle noticed a sign at Pendleton Farms that read, “Pick your own peas, 3 bags $5.” “Check that out,” he said, “you actually pick the peas yourself?” I told him about the many times I’ve been to Pendleton’s to pick my own produce, including asparagus, spinach, tomatoes, peppers, okra, and eggplant. “Now that's cool,” he said.
The market began winding down, and we headed for the car with our purchases tucked inside my canvas bag. “Well that was really fun,” said Uncle Rob. Later, I heard him talking with my family about the experience. “You know, I miss my artichokes and cherries, but I can see why people would love the market in Lawrence… not only do they bring the farm to the people, but they also encourage people to come to the farm. Plus, it’s a fun time, the people are super nice, and you can get a killer breakfast!”
Comments
Anonymous Shelby says...
I love artichokes so much.....last year I tried to grow them from seed, starting indoors in march, but without any success to speak of. Even if they started to grow I'm sure it would've been frustrating due to the fact that they take so long to mature.
I wish to god they were cheaper around here.
Posted 13 June 2007, 9:18 a.m. Suggest removal
Leslie vonHolten leslie says...
I love that you can trust what's being sold at the Lawrence market--that all of the produce and products are grown and/or made by the seller. The farmer's market board verifies this with farm visits and strict rules. When I visit the KC River Market, I'm always apprehensive about where the food is coming from. It makes me appreciate the Lawrence market even more!
Posted 13 June 2007, 9:40 a.m. Suggest removal
Anonymous Shelby says...
http://conniff.blogs.nytimes.com/2007/06...
Don't Buy Local!
By Richard Conniff
A lot of people have begun to lose their appetite lately at the thought that their food travels, on average, 1,500 miles from farmer to dinner plate. Buying, instead, from local farmers looks increasingly appealing: We get fresher produce (and benediction from Alice Waters), while also preserving open space and protecting local jobs.
But what's really lifted the "buy local" movement out of the foodie realm and into general public awareness is fear of climate change: It suddenly seems dangerously profligate that we spend 36 calories of fossil fuel energy transporting one calorie of California lettuce to a consumer in New York. Likewise that apples in a New England supermarket come from New Zealand, or potatoes in Ireland from Cyprus, or flowers in the Netherlands from Kenya. Carrying carbon to Newcastle seems to be among the chief functions of modern international trade.
So my first reaction was to think that buying local makes a lot of sense. And if it's true for food, what about the pots we cook that food in, or the furniture we sit on, or the cars we drive to the supermarket? When does "Buy American" morph from jingoism to progressivism?
And yet buying local may not be the simple answer we're looking for. For starters, it's more likely to hurt American farmers than help them. Agriculture is one area where the United States still enjoys a trade surplus, amounting to $5.66 billion last year. But the "buy local" movement is strongest in Europe, where it got its start, and American agricultural products feature prominently among the targets.
The "local" label also says little or nothing about a product's actual environmental friendliness. A resident of Sacramento, for instance, can take comfort in buying "local" rice, but it's still likely to be rice grown in a heavily irrigated desert, at huge environmental cost. In the overall carbon footprint of a product, the cost of transport often turns out to be relatively trivial. For instance, a New Zealand study recently made the case that better conditions make lamb grown there and shipped to Europe four times more energy-efficient than home-grown European lamb.
The opposite is true for products that must be air-freighted, like flowers and certain fresh seafood; good sushi probably comes with a huge carbon footprint. But sea freight can be surprisingly efficient, even for heavy manufactured goods. I asked an environmental group, the American Council for an Energy-Efficient Economy, to calculate the cost of getting an average car from Tokyo to San Diego, and we were all surprised that it came to between 1,000 and 1,800 pounds of carbon dioxide emissions. That's close to what the same car will typically produce every month for the rest of its driving life.
Posted 15 June 2007, 8:15 a.m. Suggest removal
Anonymous Shelby says...
(cont...)
But how do you factor a product's total carbon footprint into the debate over international trade? For instance, would it make sense to impose a carbon tax at our borders, so countries that fail to control their global warming emissions, like China and India, don't get an unfair competitive advantage over countries that take global warming seriously? Great idea. Kyoto-signatory nations in Europe are already talking about taking that kind of stand–against the United States.
Or maybe we could piggyback on cap-and-trade systems like the one already functioning in Europe. These systems impose mandatory overall limits on global warming emissions within a nation or region, but allow businesses that do better at meeting targets to sell carbon credits to businesses that do worse. To enter a market with a cap-and-trade system, an importer would have to compensate for a product with a big carbon footprint by adding the cost of carbon credits into the price. Such a system would catch countries or individual manufacturers that refuse to act on global warming (again possibly including the United States).
But either the carbon tax or the credit system is likely to lead to years of litigation through the World Trade Organization, according to Elliot Diringer of the Pew Center on Global Climate Change. That's because the subtext in both approaches is confrontational and protectionist. Avoiding the us-and-them mindset and seeking collaborative solutions makes far more sense when scientists increasingly suggest that all of us together could soon be up to our knees in the rising consequences of global warming.
So where does all this leave the individual shopper trying to make good choices? Tesco, Britain's largest retailer, is now working to put a "carbon label" on every product it sells. Instead of the comfortable illusion of environmentalism provided by the "buy local" idea, this label will detail the actual global warming cost of a product. And that will probably show that it makes sense to buy that compact fluorescent lightbulb, even if it was made in China. And, yes, the climate will probably be better off if you buy a Prius manufactured in Japan, not a Cadillac Escalade made in the United States.
Beneath the surface, the urge to buy local is often just a disguised version of the urge to punish someone foreign. But as a way to fix global warming, fretting about where your salad was grown is like thinking you can win a war by calling your sauerkraut "liberty cabbage."
Posted 15 June 2007, 8:16 a.m. Suggest removal
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