This morning for breakfast I scrambled some farm-fresh organic fabulous eggs from the King Family Farm. I mixed in a little fresh pasteurized rosemary-garlic goat food from my friends at Paramis. The goat food is to die for. Most people would call it goat cheese, but Paramis is a small operation that doesn't currently have dairy licensing, so they sell it strictly as goat food. It's labeled "not safe for human consumption." Of course, once they've sold it to me they can't exactly force me not to eat it. Truth is, I dispersed my personal goat herd some years back (no, not making that up) and so it was just me and my daughter enjoying the eggs and chevre. (I would have made some for my husband, but he's a dedicated cereal fan.)
I've been becoming a locavore--a person who eats locally-produced food--by degrees, and at the same time getting alittle lot more interested in some types of organic food. I think the evidence is pretty clear that organic dairy is worth it, that grass-fed beef is healthier than corn-fed, and that high-fructose corn syrup is pretty much the work of the devil.
That said, I was making sloppy joes for dinner the other night, and read the Manwich label. Eek. I'm a long way from all the way there.
But now we're participating in King Farm's CSA--community supported agriculture--which means that every month I get a box of 10 lbs. of frozen meat, their choice, but all raised on their farm, fed organic food and pasture grass. The yolks from the eggs are bright orange. The beef and pork are leaner; I've had to adjust my cooking methods. The chicken tastes different. My grandmother used to lament the chickens of yesteryear; I'm hoping to go back to eating them. So far I've noticed that thigh meat tastes a lot different when the chicken has been walking around on it for the 18 weeks it took to grow to maturity, versus being kept in a cage for 37 days.
I don't mean 37 days out of 18 weeks. I mean that the chickens I buy at Food City have grown from egg to fryer in 37 days. It boggles the mind, so it does. Not really in a good way.
Lately I've been trying to do just one new good thing. Eating local feels good to me. There's currently a wait list for King's CSA, but they'll be selling at the Bristol Farmer's Market when it opens in May, and Paramis makes homemade bread, cookies, and tortillas as well as their specialty goat food.
I've been becoming a locavore--a person who eats locally-produced food--by degrees, and at the same time getting a
That said, I was making sloppy joes for dinner the other night, and read the Manwich label. Eek. I'm a long way from all the way there.
But now we're participating in King Farm's CSA--community supported agriculture--which means that every month I get a box of 10 lbs. of frozen meat, their choice, but all raised on their farm, fed organic food and pasture grass. The yolks from the eggs are bright orange. The beef and pork are leaner; I've had to adjust my cooking methods. The chicken tastes different. My grandmother used to lament the chickens of yesteryear; I'm hoping to go back to eating them. So far I've noticed that thigh meat tastes a lot different when the chicken has been walking around on it for the 18 weeks it took to grow to maturity, versus being kept in a cage for 37 days.
I don't mean 37 days out of 18 weeks. I mean that the chickens I buy at Food City have grown from egg to fryer in 37 days. It boggles the mind, so it does. Not really in a good way.
Lately I've been trying to do just one new good thing. Eating local feels good to me. There's currently a wait list for King's CSA, but they'll be selling at the Bristol Farmer's Market when it opens in May, and Paramis makes homemade bread, cookies, and tortillas as well as their specialty goat food.
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