The Perils of Not Eating Local

Ok, the truth is out, I do not eat all local, all the time, and I actually have never claimed to. I wish I could, I really do – and kudos to those die hards that can live off their pantry reserves through our hard Ontario winters – I am not there yet (maybe one day)! As it turns out, I am just not one for extreme regimes. So admittedly, I stray a bit here and there. For the record, I would also never lecture anyone about what they eat, and I think the most important thing one can do is just try and include at least some local, as every bit counts and there are many great reasons to do so! So even though I do buy shipped-in foods through the winter quite a bit, I find that personally and more recently,I do draw the line at pineapples and bananas. Those two items are just so obviously not local that I feel a deep pang of guilt when I even think about buying them. So I just close my eyes and run along to the local zucchini when I am craving banana bread. Long ago, I worked as a cashier at a big super chain (blah blahs) and the ocassional scary looking exotic breed of spider would be trying to hide under bananas, as I squealed in fear and weighed and passed them through the conveyor belt – these spiders and bugs are probably quite common in the back rooms of grocery chains the world over, just along for the boat ride from Costa Rica, Mexico or wherever they may hail from. Oh, getting sidetracked here, sorry – I am not a great blogger yet either! The purpose of this post was to share the story of the above and below photo – my “friend” that I found in my fridge back in March. Background: I had a craving for this rockin” Moroccan stew that I make with chick peas and lots of other shamefully unlocal ingredients, among them cilantro. So I bought it – I believe it was from California and here is what I found in the fridge all chillin” and relaxin” a few days later. For the record, I washed it (the cilantro) and used it in the stew and then bagged up the remainder for later, where 2 days later I found this wilda-beast! There were loud, high pitched screams and dancing for a few moments until I realized it was dead and got the camera out to document my bonus ingredient – it was as big as my index finger! See photo.  Read More