Wrapping things up

About a month ago, I got a call from Bob to say that my gun had sold, and I could come down for the money he owed me. He paid me in one hundred dollar bills. It felt funny to have that much cash in my wallet, because of the bigness of it, but also knowing it represented the end of something. I stuck it in the bank right away.

Bob told me that the new owner was a game warden, that the gun had "found a good home."

Meanwhile, the pig is still with us. I'm making pulled pork sandwiches tomorrow, and I still have enough shoulder meat for another meal of carnitas. I have sausages and liver left too. In case you're wondering, yes, we do have a freezer.

Another part of the pig has been in the freezer all this time: his pelt. When I came back home from the hunt, I had all the butchering and sausage-making to do, so I just salted and froze the pelt, with the plan that I would figure out what to do about a tanner later.

Later has arrived. Tomorrow, I am driving to a tannery in San Leandro with the frozen pelt. Most wild boar are solid black, but as you see, mine was dappled, so I want to get it tanned with the fur on.

When I wrote earlier that the pig is still with us, and then proceeded to list the meat that I still have, I was only accounting for one aspect of the pig's impact on me. I need also to mention the following:

• Before my hunt, I was eating only fish, and I had problems with borderline anemia. My iron level has returned to normal thanks to eating the meat that the pig gave me, so the pig has changed my physical self as I have taken him in.
• I feel connected to the pig every time I begin preparing a meal that includes some of the pig in it. I remember holding and handling the pig, and the meal becomes an extension of the promise I made to the pig to take care of and responsibility for him. So the pig has changed my spiritual and emotional self as I have taken him in.

The pig changed and is changing me. I will never be the same. I think that, once we have eaten all the meat that the pig gave us, the tanned pelt will be a wonderful reminder of this most generous creature.

Gun for Sale

Today I contacted Bob over at the Old West Gun Room and asked about how to sell my gun. It means the end to my hunting adventure.

I've been thinking about it for a while. At first, I thought I might try to find someone else who shared my perspective on responsible meat-eating and who might also want to go hunting with me. But, meanwhile, I couldn't help thinking about the fractured arguments that my Hunter Education instructors had used to justify hunting. The role of hunting in wildlife conservation, they said, is the "harvest of surplus animals" (my emphasis). In other words, any animal population that is under management can be allowed to increase in order to create a role for hunting.

It made me wonder if the ranchers who rent out their land for pig hunts are encouraging the pigs so that the pig hunters will be attracted to their ranches. They claim to hate the pigs, but have they created a "hunting surplus?" If so, maybe that's the kind of hunt I went on.

People who have heard about my pig hunting ask me whether or when I'm going to go hunting again. As the months have gone by since that November day when I brought down the pig, it's become clearer to me that I don't want to spend any more time with guns or with hunters.

I had a very deep experience with that pig, and actually, it continues to unfold every time we sit down to a meal made with some of the pig's flesh. I don't regret what I did. I know I was mindful and respectful, but I think when this pig is gone, the most respectful thing for me to do is to find an ethical pork farmer and buy a farm-raised pig from her or him.

So, if you know anyone who wants to buy a nice, well-kept rifle, tell them to see Bob.

More thanks to go around

Thanksgiving marks the one year anniversary of my blog. Last year I started things off by giving the menu for our 100-mile meal. That was an ambitious feast, rather too ambitious. (The crab stew really sent things over the top.) By the end of Thanksgiving day, I was exhausted from two solid days of cooking, and I hadn't had time to socialize with the people with whom I shared the meal. I knew that I couldn't do something like that again.

Happily, an alternative appeared: a friend of ours who had been joining us for Thanksgiving for years said she would be interested in co-hosting. And even though I've been putting on Thanksgiving dinners single-handedly for something like 25 years, I agreed to this idea. That's how tired I'd gotten! She and I have been working out the details over this past year. Roughly speaking, we're each making half of the meal, with our guests bringing some extras.

It's been an exercise in letting go. Also, in grabbing back and then letting go all over again. At times, this has felt painful, as though I were losing something precious. At other times, I've been able to relax and see that I am gaining time and space, and maybe other things too.

All this "working well with others" includes the pig. He will definitely be a presence at the table. My co-host and one of the guests have told me that they've talked about the wild boar meal they will be eating for Thanksgiving, and they are getting a positive, even envious, response from their friends. I am really looking forward to sharing the pig.

We're having wild boar pâté along with a seasonal vegetable and fruit plate as appetizers. The main dishes will be wild boar ribs (my contribution) and a roast chicken with stuffing (my co-host's). We are both gardeners, and so from our gardens we'll have chard, cauliflower, and potatoes (mashed). We'll also have sweet potatoes,  a pomegranate relish, and a green salad. For dessert, we'll be having an apple crisp and a pumpkin pie. This year I grew Long Island Cheese Squash for their reputed excellence. (Back in August, I was worried that I wouldn't have enough squash for Thanksgiving pie, but the pollination intervention did the trick!) So, the extra-long table (thanks to Iris's ingenuity!) will groan with bounty, as you can see.

This Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for so many things, a list that is too long to go into here. But let me simply say that one thing I am deeply thankful for is that I won't be sitting down to the Thanksgiving table all tuckered out.

Personal sustainability

A little over three months ago, I had my annual check up. I've been seeing my doctor, Polly Young,  for over twenty years, so she is someone I really trust. I told Polly that one of things bugging me this year was that I'd get aches and pains if I did anything slightly heavier than usual around the house or garden. This didn't used to happen, and it was bumming me out.

Polly immediately recommended this book: Strong Women Stay Young. My first thought was that I couldn't possibly fit weight lifting into my schedule. I already get up at 5:00 am in order to do aerobic exercise (brisk walking) 4 to 5 days a week, also at Polly's suggestion. There was no way I was getting up any earlier!

But Polly said the program described in this book took only 30 minutes, twice a week. I said I would consider it. By the time I got home, I had decided to buy the book.

I started at the beginning, a very good place to start. The opening argument is truly compelling: basically once we women hit the age of 35, we are on a steep slope downhill from the perspective of bone loss, up to 1 % per year. After menopause, it goes up another 1 to 2 % per year. That is a lot of bone loss! Photographs show scary blown sugar candy-like structures that are actually some poor woman's bones.

The good news: lifting weights actually reverses the loss. You can build it back up. This is the first age-related downward spiral I've run into that actually has a reverse lever. I was convinced. Iris bought into the logic as well.

We went shopping for hand-held dumbbells and ankle weights, following the guidance in the book. Starting three months ago, on Sundays and Wednesdays, for about 30 minutes, we go through the 8-exercise routine outlined in the book. After about 1 month, I began to feel results: my weekend aches and pains were gone! Now, after 3 months, I have some muscle definition too, which wasn't my goal, but it's kind of a kick in the pants.

I'm calling this post "personal sustainability," and I know that label can cover a lot of territory, but surely skeletal structure is part of the picture. Given that I used to come in from my heavier garden work all beat up and sore, and now I don't, for me there's actually a direct link between weight-lifting and run-of-the-mill sustainability. So, here's to a bunch of dumbbells! They're smarter than you'd think.

Invasive species

This is my ode to the garden snail, a creature that is a current constant in my life, due to the fact that we are still having spring rains here in Berkeley. In fact, we've had 131% our normal rainfall this year so far (source: Weather Underground), and I am bound by my drought-training to utter a hallelujah.  But, even so, it's tough to embrace the joy when I walk outdoors in the morning and see these intrepid mollusks gliding across my garden making their slimy ways to my tender plants.

According to UC's Agriculture and Natural Resources Statewide Integrated Pest Management Program, "The brown garden snail, Cornu aspersum (formerly Helix aspersa), is the most common snail causing problems in California gardens. It was introduced from France during the 1850s for use as food." In other words, these puppies are escargots!

For citrus growers, ANR recommends these approaches:
a) pruning "tree shirts"
b) copper foil
c) predatory decollate snails and
d) ducks (!)

The vision of a flock of ducks in amongst the orange or lemon trees is really quite delightful, don't you think? On the other hand, introducing a new batch of decollate snails (these ones are from Egypt) to deal with the old batch of snails just sounds just plain goofy. Oh, and, if they aren't getting enough escargots, they will eat your plants too.

So, the ANR has an alternative set of instructions for the hapless home gardener.
a) handpicking
b) trapping (in beer, especially)
c) copper foil
d) poisonous bait (yuck!)

This hapless home gardener does two things: first, I put cocoa-hull compost around all my vegetable plants. Snails and slugs don't like to crawl across the scratchy surface. As a bonus, when the compost begins to degrade, it forms a crust, which tends to dissuade the neighborhood cats from using my raised beds as kitty litter boxes.

My second plan of action is the recommended handpicking. It is slightly gross, I have to admit--better with gloves. I tend to toss the buggers into the street where they are crushed by passing cars and bikes. Like I said, it's gross.

Now, I started this rant with the claim that it was an ode to the garden snail. It's time to offer the following meditation:

What is an invasive species, really? According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, an "invasive species" is defined as a species that is

1) non-native (or alien) to the ecosystem under consideration and
2) whose introduction causes or is likely to cause economic or environmental harm or harm to human health. (Executive Order 13112)." The definition goes on to say, "Human actions are the primary means of invasive species introductions."

So, humans introduce a new species to an environment, and if it causes environmental or human harm, it is invasive. Let's see... As I mentioned once before, my brother and I participated in a genetic testing project revealing that our ancient forbears had traveled from Africa to Asia and then Europe, like most Caucasians. In fact, the march of early humans out of Africa involved them introducing themselves to new environments, causing environmental damage and damage to each other over and over again. Indeed, we continue to do it today, don't we?

I need a new bumper sticker: Invasive species: it takes one to know one!

Talking trash

I read in the New York Times last week that "Europe Finds Clean Energy in Trash, but U.S. Lags." It seems that, in Denmark, Germany and the Netherlands, especially, garbage is now viewed "as a clean alternative fuel rather than a smelly, unsightly problem." This is due to large energy plants that burn household and industrial waste. "Their use has not only reduced the country’s energy costs and reliance on oil and gas, but also benefited the environment, diminishing the use of landfills and cutting carbon dioxide emissions. The plants run so cleanly that many times more dioxin is now released from home fireplaces and backyard barbecues than from incineration."

Europe has some 400 such plants, with more under construction. Denmark alone has 98, serving a country of only 5.5 million people. By contrast, the United States, with more than 300 million people (as you know, we're still counting), has only 87 plants, almost all 15 or more years old.

Where does our garbage go, then? In New York, the answer is landfills. "New York City alone sends 10,500 tons of residential waste each day to landfills in places like Ohio and South Carolina." (italics mine) New York has a population of 8,008,278 (2000 census).

In Alameda County, like San Francisco to the west, we're taking a two-fold approach. We want to reduce the amount of solid waste we produce, but what we do produce, we put in...landfills! Berkeley's solid waste "production" was 91,008 tons in 2008, or 249 tons per day, from a population of 102,743 (2000 census) That amount represents a decline according to the 2008 Alameda County Waste Characterization Study. "Overall annual solid waste quantities within [Alameda] County have decreased by approximately 24 percent since 2000, with the greatest decrease (based on weight) represented by the City of Oakland and the greatest percentage decrease represented by Emeryville and Albany."

Even so, we generate more trash per person than our East Coast counterparts. New Yorkers make some .13 tons per person per day, and we Berkeley folks churn out some .24 tons per person per day. Oakland does better at .18 tons per person per day.

Returning to the resistence to waste-to-energy conversion plants, aka trash-burning, the article in the Times identifies American popular antagonism as having three causes: "relative abundance of cheap landfills in a large country, opposition from state officials who fear the plants could undercut recycling programs and a 'negative public perception.'"

What really amazes me about the "negative public perception" is this: when I was a little girl, trash burning in the back yard was an ordinary thing. You grew a hedge at the back of your yard to hide the brick or stone rubbish bin, and once a week or so, someone went out there and set the garbage on fire. It smelled bad and made black smoke, but virtually everybody did it.

Not everything burned, of course. I can remember poking through the ashes and finding charred wads of tinfoil. It looked ancient, transformed into an artifact, something I could pretend had a secret story to tell, not simply the leftover covering from a meatloaf or maybe a jiffypop top. You might say that, when it came to trash burning, we Americans had an In-My-Back-Yard approach right up until the Clean Air Act was passed in 1963, putting a stop to those backyard hijinks.

Seven years later, in 1970, the Environmental Protection Agency opened its doors, and today the EPA actually has a Backyard Trash Burning website! This page explains all the problems with trash burning--for example: it turns out kids like to poke around in those ashes, and they're toxic, gosh darnnit! As a bonus, the site features a link to Bernie the Burn Barrel--don't you just love public service mascots?

In other words, today, we find ourselves in the situation of having gone through a societal IMBY-to-NIMBY conversion. Remarkable!

Besides apparent distaste, the other opposition to the fancy new trash burners is Big Environmentalism. The argument goes like this: the energy plants create a market for trash when our goal should be zero waste. That's what I call making Perfect be the Enemy of Good! Nearly every week, I have to consign to the trash (aka "landfill destination bin") the containers that the City of Berkeley will not collect for recycling, because they claim they can't find a buyer for those types. These include any and all plastics that aren't classed #1 or #2. I try to buy strategically to avoid these plastics, but it simply is not always possible.

Here's my question: Why not be making energy from this stuff? Let's put one of these new burners in Berkeley. Looks like we have the tonnage to spare.

Remnants

Making something new from the leftovers of old projects has real appeal to me. I can see materials I've carefully chosen for one purpose combined in new ways, and, in the case of fabric, this yields interesting color, pattern, and even texture juxtapositions. Because I often sew gifts, the combinations also bring together thoughts about the people for whom the fabric was originally purchased. So, there is a many-layered weave going on.

In the case of my current project, a set of rag placemats, I actually needed to start by making the loom. And, for this too, I began with "remnants," in that I used lumber, screw and nails we had on hand.

The dimensions of this simple box loom are 19 X 15 3/4 inches, and it is made from ordinary interior grade 2 X 4. The nails are 2 1/2 inch finish nails, though you could use nails that are somewhat shorter or longer. I pre-drilled the holes so as to avoid splitting the wood, and I did not nail in a straight line for the same reason.

The next step is to string the warp, and here again, I used string I had on hand. It doesn't have to be fancy string, but you want to use something about as strong as a good kite string. You start from the upper left corner with a slip knot and wind the string up and down around the nails. The warp layout map shown below is from an old rug-making book I got from my mother, who was a rug braider.

Once you have the warp ready, all you need is your fabric and a yard stick or wide tooth comb for battening the rows. About the fabric: this is the perfect project for the remnants from pant making. The reason is that you need to work with strips that are about 1 1/2 inch wide.

The author of my little book, Kathryn Andrews Marinoff, assumes I'm working with wool, but I don't have wool remnants, because I really don't sew with wool. And this project is all about using what I have on hand. So, I'm thinking of this is as a kind of experiment in weaving with cotton "rags." I like how it looks and feels so far, but it may all come apart the first time I wash the place mats!

Before closing, I want to put in a plug for a couple of great resources for those of you who do not have a lot of "remnants" of various kinds laying around your house or garage waiting to be remade. The East Bay Depot for Creative Reuse and Urban Ore are both treasure troves. The Depot has more of the interior kinds of things (paper, fabric, paints, and on and on and on). Urban Ore has massive amounts of construction materials, furniture, hardware, and on and on and on.

I've left out some details here, so if you want more information, please do post a question. I'd also love to hear about your projects along these lines.

The Pinnacle of Seed Catalogs

Living where I do, I can walk over to a place I fondly call "the Hort" (Berkeley Horticultural Nursery) any time of the year and buy starts of all the vegetables that are seasonally ready for planting here in the San Francisco's East Bay.

But, my heart still skipped a beat when I saw the Seed Savers Exchange 2010 Catalog of Heirloom Seeds, Books and Gifts in my mailbox this week. First: it is stunning. The cover features a crate of many varieties of heirloom tomatoes.

And then, when you open it up, you get 97 pages of full color photographs and detailed, useful descriptions of hundreds of vegetables, herbs, and flowers. Just look at a few of the wonderful names:

• Long Red Florence (onion)
• Bloody Butcher (corn)
• Amish Deer Tongue (lettuce)
• Bulgarian Carrot (pepper)
• Ten Commandments (gourd)
• Envy (soybean)
• Long Island Cheese (squash)
• Nebraska Wedding (tomato)
• Small Shining Light (watermelon)

The descriptions for each seed include where it came from (including if it was sourced by a member of the Exchange) and recommended best uses. Last year, I bought the Hutterite Soup Bean seeds, and, now that I have grown them and cooked with them, I can attest to the fact that they have performed as advertised here: "One of the best heirloom varieties for making soup. Beans soak up water well and cook very quickly. Makes a truly excellent creamy white soup."

In the middle of the catalog, you can read about Heritage Farm, in Decorah, Iowa, where the folks who started Seed Savers Exchange make their home, and the Exchange has its operations. By the time I get to this part of the catalog, I am half in love with these people, and I start imagining spending my summer vacation attending the Annual Meeting. This seed catalog is a powerful thing.

Of course, I've been feeling rather well disposed toward Iowa lately, what with the way things have been going down at the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals in our fair State of California... Maybe a whole lot of us ought to spend our tourist dollars in the Hawkeye State. What do you think?

If you want to get on this wacky bandwagon, buy some seeds, or just look at incredibly lovely pictures, you can download your very own copy of the catalog. You have now had fair warning of its potency.

Santa's got a green elf riding in his sleigh

Was Ed Begley Jr riding side-saddle with Santa this year? I'm wondering, because our stockings had some interesting new (to me, anyway) products this year, and even under the tree, there was a definite green tint to things. Here are a few of the notables:

• EcoTowl Bamboo Compostable Cloth "paper" towels. The package comes with 4 washable cloths.
  
• Post-It Recycled Notes. 3M has a small number of products with a higher degree of recycled content, but they state that all their post-its now have 30% post-consumer content.
• Pilot V-Ball BG 05. Pilot is now making several series of pens with an amazing 81 % recycled content! I'm thinking that leaves out the ink.
• Intriguing reading material: Farm City, The Education of an Urban Farmer, by Novella Carpenter.
  
• And then, Santa's biggest offering, my new shiny red wagon. This isn't a new product, but one I'd been wanting in anticipation of the Trader Joe's that is going in this coming year at the very busy corner of Martin Luther King Jr. Drive and University Avenue in Berkeley. We expect traffic and parking to be a problem, and because we are walking distance from the location, my plan is to use a shopping cart. Thanks Santa!

Some thoughts on Christmas trees

I really like having a (formerly) live Christmas tree. We're going out to get ours later today. It's the 19th of December, and so it's a little later that usual for us. We've waited so that our graduate student son, Nathan, could join us in this activity.

Anyway, as I said, I like having a real tree: the smell of the pine, the feel of the needles, even the slight mess on the floor. Yes, even the chore of it. This year, though, I did stop to wonder if this desire of mine came with an unjustifiable footprint price tag. After all, this is basically cutting down trees. Aren't I supposed to be all about planting trees?

And this week in the NY Times, I read an odd story about a Southern California nurseryman who will rent you a potted live tree for about the same price I'll be paying for my cut tree. You can even ask him to tag it so you get the same tree next year. This is because, between holiday seasons, these potted trees live in a parking lot, essentially. I'm hearing, "They took all the trees and put 'em in a tree museum."

My solution for this year came when I read from my favorite tree provider, Delancey Street, "Delancey Street Trees are certified sustainably farmed. Our trees are good for the environment. Sustainable practices promote the best care of land, water, air and nature. Renewable recyclable crops are the key to the future. A new tree is planted for every tree cut. Sites are selected with organic content and best practices of soil and water conservation, proper nutrition, wetland management, IPM, and biodiversity. After the holidays, please leaver your tree curbside without lights or stands and Sunset or Golden Gate with pick up for free and recycle."

It's hard to argue with that!

It's a wrap: gift bags

This is an idea I got from my sister Ann: using cloth remnants to make gift bags. I sew as a hobby, so I do have remnants, but you could also have fun perusing the remnants table at your favorite fabric store. (My fave is Stone Mountain & Daughter.)

You'll also need ribbon or cord for the draw strings. I tend to save up the ribbons from other packages and even floral displays throughout the year. (They may need ironing to restore their utility.) Here's a box I packed this week for shipping.

Gift bags have all kinds of advantages over paper wrapping:

• Ease of wrapping. Kids love wrapping packages with gift bags!
• When the holiday or birthday is over, you have almost no clean-up.
• This is pre-cycling: You are re-using ribbon and fabric and adding zero paper to landfill.
• And, lastly, the look of cloth-wrapped packages is charming.

 The steps are simple. (Read them through before you start.)

1. If the item you want to wrap needs to be boxed, box it. 
2. Consider its size and then cut a piece of fabric double that size, allowing a 1/2 inch seam allowance on 3 sides. At this time also, cut two pieces of ribbon or cord about 5 inches long for the ties. (Select something that goes with the color of your fabric.)
   
3. Finish the side you want to be the top with pinking shears. If you don't have pinking shears, then you should allow a 1/2 seam allowance on that side too.*
4. Fold the fabric in half with the patterned ("good") sides facing inside. You now have one side with a fold and two sides that require a seam. The top should be finished with a zigzag (from the pinking shears).
5. Pin one of the sides. On the other side about 1 inch down from the top, secure the ribbon on the inside between the two pieces of the fabric. Pin the second side of the fabric, anchoring the area where the ribbon is well.
6. Sew together the two sides, back stitching where the ribbon is located. 
7. Clip the bottom two corners at a diagonal to reduce bulk. Turn the bag inside out.

*If you do not have pinking shears, before Step 4, turn down the edges of the two ends and finish the tops with a simple edge.

2009 Solar production at our place

We just got the "Net Energy Metering Electric Statement" for the past year from Pacific Gas and Electric (PG&E). We've gotten the statements on a monthly basis ever the since we put up the panels in 2005. When you work with PG&E on this type of arrangement, you actually become a California Energy Supplier! We have a bi-directional meter, so that on months when we make more electricity that we use, we enrich the mix. When we use more that we make, we pull from the grid.

The grid is our energy bank, in other words.

Here is our energy statement:

Last month, for example, we "made" 198 kilowatts more than we used. By way of comparison, for the same period in 2008, we "made" 186 kilowatts more than we used, and in 2007, the figure was 164. (The year before that, PG&E reported the production in such a weird way, I can't understand it.) You don't have to be a rocket scientist to notice that this represents a trend of more days of sunshine.

People have often asked me if PG&E pays us for the energy we send back to the grid. In a word: No. We were early adopters, and the deal we made was for a $9000.00 grant in exchange for not getting any payback on the excess energy. This is just about an even deal, when you do the math. We put up as many collectors as our roof could hold (18) with the idea that we will replace gas appliances as they age, so we will, over time, be producing less excess energy. So, this means that the financial deal will come out in our favor over the long run, in any case.

Here's what the house looks like from the street, in case you're wondering:

The panels alter the roofline of the upper story, but not tremendously. I think the main effect is that we have less squirrel scampering on that part of the roof. Bummer!

Garbage Day

It's garbage day in my neighborhood. When I look at the castoffs from my neighbor's lives, and also how they cast things off, I can see a little bit about where they are in their lives, what they value, and, especially,  what kind of care they take of the environment.

My town is a town of well-meaning people. Pretty much everybody you meet says they care about the environment. After all, it's Berkeley.

 
But when you look at the garbage they put out on the curb on garbage day, you sometimes get a different story.

This can, for instance, has corrugated cardboard and paper peaking out of the top. I've also seen aluminum cans and glass in the garbage. What's the deal?


Are people unaware of what can be recycled? Have people been too "busy" to build new habits?

The City of Berkeley has a Zero Waste Commission (formerly known as the Solid Waste Commission) and a target of reaching the goal of complete recycling by the year 2020. That's 10 years from now.

We've got a serious disconnect going on and not a lot of time to close it.

Why I eat fish

1. I am an omnivore, and I fit into a food chain.
2. I work full time, and I don't want to spend my weekend time seeking out the good livestock farmers who treat their animals humanely.
3. I like fishing, and I have killed fish to eat them. (Yes, of course, I've also caught and released fish.)

One day, when I am retired, I may revisit this. I will have more time to meet farmers and also to see firsthand what deepsea fishing is all about. I'm sure it is a world away from fresh water stream fishing.

But, this is where my eating choice comes from.

Let me also say that the fish I am eating is environmentally sustainable. I have found a fishmonger (Monterey Fish Market) who follows these practices--indeed the owner wrote the book on it: Fish Forever.

About the bread, and grains generally

I meant to mention the bread when wrote that post. I use Mark Bittman's Fast No-Knead Whole Wheat Bread recipe. In my experience, it doesn't make an incredibly high loaf, but I'm using it for stuffing, so I don't care terribly for looks. It has good flavor, is moist, and doubles well.

This is a picture of the bread slices drying so I can make them into crumbs for the dressing.

Now, about grains. The first year I tried the 100-mile challenge, I didn't have a source of local grain other than rice. I had to use nuts for the pie crusts, and we had a rice-based dressing. Not the end of the world, but also not the family favorite. At a Christmas party that year, I was talking about the search I'd done for local grain and a friend and work colleague mentioned a CSA she knew about that was strictly for grains! This sounded perfect for me.

The CSA supported Windborne Farm, and the farmer Jennifer Greene, in Covelo, CA. I signed up in January 2008. Roughly once a month, we got a bag of various whole grains, including wheat, rye, barley, and corn meal. Greene would also send blends like pancake mix and hot cereal mix, as well as unusual grains like teff and millet. The assortment varied from month to month.

Unfortunately (for me), the business model has ceased to work for Greene, and earlier this year, she wrote to all of us that she needed to diversify into a more general farming operation and focus her distribution closer to her immediate area.

When I got her message, I thought of my Thanksgiving meal and saved the wheat and rye flours and corn meal I had.

So, now I have a year to find another local source or get used to the idea of that rice dressing.

100-Mile Thanksgiving

Since 2007, we've been having a 100-mile Thanksgiving at our house, an idea I got after reading Plenty. Basically, you design the menu around foods that are available from farmers, fishermen, beekeepers, and so on, within 100 miles of where you live. If you are having out-of-town guests at your table, you can invite them to bring some ingredients from their area, which extends your possibilities.

It's a fun challenge, and because I live in Northern California, where we have a vibrant farmers' market year round, I figured I had no excuse not to try it.

You end up being able to give thanks for the bounty of your own land, so to speak. I have to think this is the real spirit of Thanksgiving.

So, here's my menu for this year. It reflects another change we made this year, away from meat (other than fish), which came after reading Omnivore's Dilemma.

Pre-Dinner Tastings:
Corn and Black Pepper Crackers (I substitute local honey for the sugar.)
Spring Hill Garlic Cheddar
Spring Hill Smoked Yellow Cheddar

Dinner:
Rock Fish, caught off Fort Bragg, stuffed (stuffing recipe below)
Crab and Cornmeal Stew (I froze local red peppers and tomatoes in July when they were in season.)
Ginger Orange Pomegranate RelishThis is in our stand-in for cranberries. Yum!
Sweet Potatoes and Orange Juice from Joy of Cooking I can't get oranges, but I can get Satsuma tangerines.
French fingerling potatoes baked in parchment with fresh rosemary
Green salad--I'm not sure of the details on this, because a guest is bringing it.
Green vegetable--same story.

Dessert:
Pumpkin pie, from pumpkin I grew in my front yard!
Honey Walnut-Fruit Tart I'm using an ordinary pie crust, not a matzo meal crust.
I'll have whipped cream and also Three Twins Vanilla Ice Cream for toppings.

Beverages:
Another guest is bringing local wine.
I have on hand Calestoga spring water and also some excellent local Gravenstein apple cider.

I promised the recipe for stuffing, and I can actually point to my pumpkin pie and pie crust recipes as well, which recently got published by a French site. The recipes are on page 5 of the issue.

Savory Stuffing

1 egg, beaten
1/4 t. thyme
1/2 t. dill seed
2 T. parsley
1/4 t. salt
dash pepper
1/2 c. butter, melted
3 T. finely chopped onion
2 T. hot water
3 c. bread crumbs
(my mom's recipe calls for white bread, but I'm now making this with whole grain, because I have to bake it from local wheat.)

Combine egg, thyme, dill, parsley, salt, pepper in large bowl. Mix well. In hot butter, saute onion until golden, about 5 minutes. To seasoning, add onion-butter mixture, hot water, and crumbs, tossing lightly to mix well. Stuff the fish (or turkey) and cook according to instructions.