Now begins the time of year when the luscious produce of summer gives way to less glamorous but appealing fare like buttery pumpkins and hearty, leafy greens. Consumers are increasingly turning to farmer's markets, CSAs, and even their own backyards to find the freshest produce possible, and awareness of where our food is "sourced" is a widespread concern. We demand organic, but are especially titillated by that which has been humbly grown in the spirit of our ancestors, preferably to the highest ethical standards and with the fewest miles from source to mouth.
Along with this noble goal of providing ourselves with the best food possible has come a disdain, even rejection, of food that isn't quite up to snuff, at least among passionate home cooks and—I hate this cutesy word, but I can't think of a better one—"foodies." If it isn't pedigreed, it will not grace our tongues.
Romanticizing the production of food is citified horse hooey, as any farmer, and probably your great-grandparents, would tell you. Planting seeds, constantly fighting off pests, frantically canning for the winter—these are the realities of small-scale farming. Also, in the olde days, you were consigned to eat only that which you could grow. In the case of my maternal grandfather, who grew up on the austere plains of North Dakota, this translated to a very limited diet centered mainly around potatoes; he didn't enjoy a steak until he was in his twenties. In the poorest corners of the planet today, this dietary indigence is a constant reality. Certainly, the modern food industry has many flaws, but the variety of food we in rich nations can enjoy year-round would have been unimaginable even fifty years ago. As we look behind us toward a more "authentic" age, we risk ignoring the privilege we now enjoy.
The solution to eating well, and responsibly, lies somewhere between the Watersian pursuit of prandial purity and the horrors of processed, truly nasty junk food. Avoiding "conventional" fruits and vegetables when their righteous, virtuous counterparts are unavailable is silly. Of course, when a choice can be made—and when finances permit such a choice—organic and local will taste better, but why forgo the satisfaction of cooking for yourself and those you love because you can't find the "right" ingredients? All cooks strive to make good food, but modern life has enabled, and made necessary, certain compromises. We may bake bread on the weekend if there's time, but are we apostates for buying a loaf from the bakery? For relying on frozen peas?
It is important to avoid being paralyzed by perfectionism, in all aspects of life. Yes, in some ways, ignorance does seem like bliss, especially for those of us who agonize over making the right decision, thereby making no decision at all. But isn't it counter-productive to put off reading Don Quixote because you're not sure what the best translation is? In cooking, don't be afraid to make mistakes or work in an unfamiliar medium, just dive in and squish your toes around in the mud. Unmitigated kitchen disasters are pretty rare, and they usually provide the benefit of a lesson anyway, so go cook something already!
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