A Trip into Historic Locavorism

"Welcome, this way to the Slave Garden..."

Not the average greeting I get when I enter a farm, but Phillipsburg Manor is not the average farm. Phillipsburg Manor is part of the Historic Hudson Valley, a group of manors, gardens, and battlegrounds that represent and recreate part of our colonial past. Phillipsburg Manor takes this goal to an entertaining level through its employees that dress, speak, and act as they would have in the colonial and revolutionary eras.

I had been to Phillipsburg Manor twice before. The first time was when I was a little las on a school trip to teach us about the American Revolution, slavery, and standing quietly on lines. The second time was actually this past November, when I tried to make parts of our Thanksgiving meal a locavore Thanksgiving (I ended up making local cranberry sauce, local corn bread, and local apple-cranberry pies with whole wheat crust).

So I thought I sort of knew the drill when I went up there recently as part of this project. But in fact, I saw each thing in a new light. The so-called "slaves' garden" was not just an example of the existence of slavery in New York State, but of how all people are forced to adapt to their circumstances. For instance, by figuring out a way to plant okra and yams in a Northeastern climate. It also struck me that in most generations (the trend is really only reemerging in our generation), the desire to provide food, reconnect to the land, and retain (or at least remember) traditions and cultural values is a strong one. 

Taking a trip to Phillipsburg Manor was, at least to me, like taking a trip into Historic Locavorism. Back in the good ol' days, people were locavores because they needed to be, and really, there was no option to buy a Mexican avocado in the middle of a Mid-Atlantic winter. In some ways, a movement towards local, sustainable agriculture may seem like a regression into time and history. A naive feeling if we just plant some carrot seeds, tend to them, and eat them, we can change the world in some way--hey, don't we need global and interstate trade? Isn't it good for poor farmers in Mexico if we buy their avocados? To some extent, these arguments may be true. But it is also true, or maybe I'm just looking through the rose-colored lenses of youth and excitement, that small actions--like taking responsibility for our environmental impact--can translate into thinking and acting locally to having an effect globally. 

The Omnivore's Real Dilemma

I am taking a break from my regular food/farm blogging to write about something I find even more serious than the food we eat.

In today's New York Times, one of my favorite columnists, Bob Herbert (who is a passionate supporter of children's health and welfare, education, journalistic freedom, and economic justice), wrote about the horrific, unjust, and unacceptable conditions under which farm workers toil in New York State. Ironically enough, the piece is centered on the violations committed by Hudson Valley Foie Gras, somewhere I had considered visiting during my project. I'm embarrassed by the deplorable level of protective labor legislation in New York State on many levels, not the least of which is my upcoming undergraduate education in industrial and labor relations at Cornell University.

One of the reasons I am suggesting people "go local" is that local agriculture shrinks not only the carbon footprint of the food, but the distance between grower and consumer in the hopes that people will reconnect with who grows their food--and care as much about the quality of the duck's life as they do about the quality of the duck handler's life.

This column, "State of Shame," is an example of how what we don't know will hurt somebody else. Few people are aware of truly how dangerous, unsanitary, and unceasing the work of a farm hand is. But the truth is, to be ethical eaters, we must break the fourth wall that separates our food production from our tables. To be an ethical eater, in my opinion, is one of the most important ways individuals can become activists; to support healthful agriculture and to abstain from those that blatantly disregard the health of workers, animals, and the planet in the name of higher profits.

After reading this column, the most important questions to answer are: how do we respond? how do we shift our habits, spending, and consumption so that we are no longer blindly supporting unjust agriculture?

Fortunately, there are many ways we can do this and there are already many responses to these questions on the local and global fronts.

The first answer is always, even if it seems cliched and annoying, to become informed. If possible, go to the place where your food is being produced. Most farms, especially small, local farms, are more than happy to show you around and let you meet the food you will be eating and the people who grew or raised it.

If that's not possible, use the internet. There are many different websites that focus on and document ethical agriculture. One of these is a website/organization called Uri L'Tzedek. This organization was started by young Orthodox Jews who viewed the world and its injustices through the lens of Jewish values, teachings, and rituals. I learned about this organization when I volunteered in Honduras with American Jewish World Service working to support and empower the peasant community in the rural West of the country. Uri L'Tzedek, which translates to awaken to justice, was a leader of the movement within Orthodox Judaism to put an emphasis not solely on whether or not food was technically Kosher--Kosher food satisfies the conditions set forth in the Torah and subsequent Jewish texts that deem it acceptable for observant Jews to eat--but how ethical that restaurant or processor was in terms of how they treated their employees. To address this issue, they created their Tav Ha'Yosher, or ethical seal to publicly endorse and approve restaurants and food manufacturers that satisfy modern and Biblical standards of ethics and labor practices. Even if you are not Jewish or not Kosher, these ethically approved restaurants provide a framework for ethical eaters and hopefully, this trend will continue on in the secular food world.

Ladies who Lunch Locally

I have been trying to spread the word to my family and friends about the benefits of eating locally, but sometimes it's difficult to get regular omnivores to abandon old habits, especially when they are hungry at lunchtime. I have found a remedy: Table Local Market.

When I visited Table with my sister, mother, and aunt (who happens to be friends with the owner Cynthia Brennan), I was impressed by the atmosphere and quality of food available. Table feels light and clean even though it is filled with everything from charts listing the growing seasons for all types of produce to the most delectable chocolate truffles. There are standard breakfast and lunch items on the menu, but each day they are prepared using only the freshest, most local ingredients available. When we went, I sampled the delicious frittata that was light yet satisfying and the rest of my party delved into crispy, melty paninis filled with all types of local vegetables and mozzarella cheese. On the side, we could not resist the crunchy, lightly salted chips that had the texture of homemade corn tortilla chips. To wash it down, we enjoyed the freshly brewed iced green tea that was a refreshing complement to our hearty lunch. For dessert, because really a lovely lunch should never end without a lovely sweet treat, my sister sampled the moist, fudgy brownie; my mother tried the classic chocolate chip cookie; and I enjoyed every bite of a tiny, dark chocolate truffle.

One of the perks of Table is that patrons (and especially Table Members) are able to eat a locavore's lunch and catch up on some shopping they couldn't do at the farmers market and even take a class or two about cooking with seasonal, local ingredients. I did not participate in any classes, but the Lobster Fest on June 12 looks like fun!

The decor and environment of Table is eco-friendly and casual, clearly the intentions of owner Cynthia Brennan who has a background in and passion for design. I appreciated the long wooden table available because it lets people meet each other while ensuring enough space for all of the food! Another cute touch was the pot of sprouts that read: "eat me!" and was convincing enough at least for me and my aunt to try them.

Prices at Table are comprable to those at farmers market (for items like cheese, eggs, milk, and meat) and even comprable to the prices at regular sandwich shops. Yet, you can leave lunch feeling light, lovely, and local.

Table Local Market
www.tablelocalmarket.com
11 Babbit Road
Bedford Hills
tel. 914-241-0269