After taking a really interesting class last spring, “Global Environmental Politics,” my erstwhile interest in recycling and general tree-hugging was solidified into something a bit more serious. Professor Ignatov, definitely one of my favorite teachers at Hopkins, managed to analyze the issues of environmental degradation from a number of different angles. It was such a cool class! We watched a number of documentaries about the food industry, wrote fascinating research papers, and after studying conservation from a policy perspective, were able to analyze our own impact upon the planet via a “Carbon Calculator.”
When we calculated our footprints, I was dismayed to find out that what I had thought were earth-friendly green habits were not quite so. According to the calculator, it would take 1.8 earths to sustain my Prius-driving, composting, no-AC lifestyle. Not anticipating any drastic changes in the solar system, this number worried me. In another great class last spring, “Clinical and Public Health Behavior Change,” I was asked to keep a food journal of everything I ate for a week. More distress here. Unfortunately, I chose to catalogue my food intake at a particularly stressful moment in my semester–a week of little more than apples, M&M’s, and lattes. Less than healthy. More than that, though, I noticed that in my carbon calculator, food represented a significant percentage of my energy expenditures–namely, I was eating a lot of imported food. Where are M&M’s even made? Probably not in Baltimore…
With this in mind, and a general love of all things Barbara Kingsolver, I recently read “Animal, Vegetable, Miracle.” I’d highly recommend it, along with Poisonwood Bible, my favorite of her novels. Kingsolver and her family catalogue their year-long foray into local food. Not content to simply buy from farmers markets, though, they impose a 100-mile limit on all foods (with the exception of coffee, wise people) and begin to grow almost everything you might need to feed a family of four. They raise turkeys, help their 10-year old daughter start an egg-selling business, order heirloom tomato seeds, and spend several chapters jamming, pickling, and drying literally tons of food to get them through the winter. Written jointly by Kingsolver, her husband, and their elder daughter, the book balances their own family’s experience with American agricultural history, science, and a dose of activism. They also include a number of recipes, which I’m looking forward to testing out.
The book was a fascinating look at the way we eat now, and I must say it definitely changed the way I approach food. I’vewritten before about my favorite Saturday morning routine, the local 32nd street market. “Animal, Vegetable, Miracle” really clarified the extent to which we have forgotten about the “season” in the way we eat now. A few weeks ago I definitely couldn’t have told you when tomato or green bean season is, or when the best time to buy asparagus is. For the record, asparagus comes in April, tomatoes and green beans past this time of year (at least on the East Coast) aren’t coming from anywhere near you.
It’s so interesting to head to the farmers market and see the changing produce, week-to-week. I was lucky enough to grow up in a state where farms and towns are both close-by; I had a friend in high school who lived on a cheese farm, and another who commuted almost from Manhattan. While home for Fall Break this weekend, I was able to stop by the Summit Farmer’s Market, tucked behind some shops in town. At home the produce looked much the same, but many of the stalls were sporting signs–”last week of green beans,” “last batch of gala apples.” I dutifully filled up on both, and for me at least, it was more satisfying, knowing I wouldn’t be eating them again until next season. My dad grew up in Leicester, a good-sized city in England, but his parents chose to grow almost all of their produce in their amazing garden. We chatted about growing apples, potatoes, and carrots, mulling wine, making berry jams, and the massive tomato greenhouse that took over the garden. As a child, I remember stellar tomatoes at my grandparents house, and the smell of tomatoes still on the vine. The last tomatoes of the season at home this weekend were that good.
It’s been interesting shopping at the farmer’s market. Other than a better awareness of seasons and farming, it’s been an exercise in creative cooking. The range of veggies on offer certainly forces you think a bit more about what to eat each week. As I’ve written before, my upstairs neighbor and good friend Katie is a star cook, cataloguing her kitchen adventures on her blog. With our exciting produce (how do you cook kale? what does swiss chard do?) we’ve managed to brew up some exciting autumnal meals.
Of all places, Hopkins, and more generally Baltimore, is a really interesting place for food. All around the city, people are talking about the issue of food quality and availability. Baltimore has gotten a lot of flak in the press for having a high proportion of neighborhoods without a supermarket, dubbed “food deserts,” and Baltimore, like many other urban areas, has a significant obesity problem. It’s been interesting to be at the School of Public Health this semester–they have a huge initiative around food deserts, under the banner of their “Center for a Livable Future.” As I may have mentioned before, I love the School of Public Health. The Baltimore City Public School System has taken a big step towards healthier eating with the establishment of their Great Kids Farm, which aims jointly to provide fresh, affordable produce, and to educate inner-city children about sustainability, agriculture, and nutrition.
Back on campus, my friend Louisa is taking a class on Food Politics which explores corn subsidies in the US, changing consumption patterns, genetic modification, obesity, and food safety. It sounds so interesting, and seriously makes me wish I had another year at Hopkins to spare, just for classes like this! Here’s a JHU Gazette article on the class, from a few years back. Katie and her roommate (my old roommate) Eve are both involved with Real Food Hopkins this year, which is working to create a “100 Mile Meal” on campus. I learned through my job in the Career Center that Hopkins Sustainability Initiative runs a CSA (community-supported agriculture) program for all faculty and staff–my boss heads out every Wednesday afternoon to pick up a box of kale, peppers, bok choy and spinach from campus.
The slightly more upscale version of the farm-to-table movement can be seen in local restaurants like Dogwood and Woodberry Kitchen, where I went last week with friends to celebrate the end of a particularly rough midterm. Such a great evening! Baltimore has turned out to be a great place to explore local and delicious foods. I’ve written before about how passionate Hopkins students are, but it always does amaze me. The journey from a class project, to a book recommendation, a casual interest, and learning that my friends, school, and city are all involved, has been so interesting.
I haven’t re-calculated my carbon footprint yet, and I doubt it’s as low as I’d like it to be, but I’m sure this (and my apartment building’s new recycling program) has helped! Also, I do recall other students getting numbers in the vicinity of 6 or 7 Earths, so it looks like we all have a lot of work to do.
Happy Fall! Enjoy the root veggies, bonfire smell, and changing leaves!
LB
P.S. “Greener Baltimore” is a bumper sticker I somehow collected while at Hopkins. It now adorns my Prius.
Name: Lauren B.
