We had a raspberry bush at my parents house when I was young. I remember going out in the hot summers of Upstate New York to pick berries in the morning for raspberry pancakes, or in the evening to eat as a treat with a scoop of ice cream. Raspberries are one of the ultimate fruits, in my mind. Perfectly sweet and juicy, and full of so much strong flavor.
Wow. Is it really over? A whole year has passed, and what do I have to show for it?
I’ll give you a quick little post about our CSA food this week. I have to say: I am – once again – soooo grateful to have fresh farm food available. I have been ravenous this week since the birth, and it has been amazing to be able to eat fresh, spring salads every day. I devour apples. I want to murder all our carrots in one sitting. I am nursing, so the food passes through me and to my little baby, just as it has been for the past 41 weeks. I’m in the food and the food’s in me; I am the food and the food is me.
When you are at the mercy of the seasons, each time one of your favorite foods comes into season, it seems like a miracle. In the summer, I feel this way about raspberries. I can never eat enough of them, raw, in baked dishes, or fresh off the vine. This week, the Wetzels celebrate cauliflower.
Each week, we receive an email newsletter from our CSA, Terry’s Berries, letting us know where the week’s produce hails from. Washington State has less severe winters than the rest of the country, as does the west coast in general; so much of our produce is either grown in state or stored through the winter.
In Tacoma, there are many farmer’s markets in the summer, and it is amazing how far away some of the vendors travel in order to hawk their wares. It’s amazing how not-local and not-fresh some of the produce can be. Market season is just around the corner again, and what can we do as naïve spenders approaching the tables of different fruits and veggies?
It’s cool and damp outside. The grass here is green and lanky. We should have mowed our lawn more in the fall, but it’s matted down by the morning frost now. It rarely snows in Washington, and when it does the magic only lasts for a day or so until the temperature rises back to the 40s or 50s, and we go back to dodging puddles on the way to the car.
The funny thing about resolutions is that we never keep them. It’s a game we play with ourselves…a sick game where we come up with some unobtainable idea of the perfect “self” that we wish defined us. Resolutions remind us of our shortcomings, our failures, and our faults. And, when we invariably fail at our resolutions, it just reminds us of how pathetic, weak and imperfect humanity can be. (Why am I talking about humanity???) Truly, it reminds us of the weaknesses in ourselves, but in a depressing, shameful way.
I love apples. If I could only have one type of fruit for the rest of my life, I’d choose apples. I was raised in upstate New York, and I now live in Washington state; I am an apple region kinda gal. It’s a good thing, too, because we’ll get apples all winter long in the CSA share. I remember: last winter the only fresh fruit from Washington State that we received all winter was apples and pears. Even so, the apples were so fresh, crisp and delicious…it was easy to love them all winter long.
It occurred to me this week that the traditional Thanksgiving meal is – in fact – an iconic example of real, local, in-season food. In autumn, our seasonal foods are all highlighted at the event: potatoes, cranberries, brussels sprouts, yams, sweet potatoes, applesauce, pumpkins and squash.
Hi, there! I’m Erin. I’m a crunchy Christian mom and artist. I love to eat local farm food and shop at thrift stores. I blog about our crazy life and baby girl (born April 2011). I love rainbows. My hair is messy. ^_^ I hope you enjoy my blog! (Read More about me here...)