Last updated 8:02PM ET
May 26, 2012
Regional
Regional
I Had a Farm In Colorado
(2009-11-23)
(KUNC) - It seems like everyone is talking about food these days and not just because it's almost Thanksgiving. A suburban dweller by nature - KUNC commentator Laura Bridgwater got reacquainted with all kinds of vegetables this year through community-supported agriculture.

Apparently, we are nearing a food revolution in this country, or so says Michael Pollan, the food journalist and author of the 2008 book In Defense of Food. In the past decade, more people have begun eating off the grid, whether that's raising backyard chickens, shopping at farmer's markets, or joining community-supported agriculture.

I don't know about a revolution, but I know we joined a CSA for one simple reason: we were in a rut. I yearned to venture beyond the baby carrots and frozen peas on our plates.

Granted, there are easier ways to get your vegetables, but with CSA's cropping up like mushrooms after the rain, community-supported agriculture is no longer on the hippie fringe. By 2007 the number of CSA's in North America had grown to well over 12,000 since the first one began in 1984. Seventy-seven of those CSA's are in Colorado.

So last February, we prepaid for one small vegetable share, figuring that was a manageable amount of produce for a family of four. We selected a residential pick up location within a mile of our home and collected a few reusable grocery bags. So far, so good.

The first of 26 weekly pick-ups began in June. When I opened the delivery box, I found four kinds of lettuce, some spinach, baby beets, parsley and dill. Looking at the bounty, I thought proudly, like Meryl Streep in the opening line of the movie Out of Africa, "I have a farm in Colorado. Or, at least I share one with 2500 other members."

As the growing season ramped up, soon I was stuffing two grocery sacks with rhubarb and lettuce, kale and lettuce, Swiss chard and lettuce--and, was that collard or turnip greens or more lettuce?

Our refrigerator grew darker and greener until the jungle of leafy vegetables blocked the light. We bushwhacked our way to the ranch dressing. The fridge began to look like The Little Shop of Horrors.

When the harvest peaked in September, we were juggling three large bags packed with onions, leeks, artichokes, green beans, peppers, zucchini, broccoli, tomatoes, potatoes, and corn. I struggled to cook that amount of perishable food. I found myself mumbling through gritted teeth, "I have a farm in Colorado." (Actually, I ranted like the reality television chef from Hell's Kitchen, but I can't repeat that on the radio.)

Not wanting to let a single prepaid eggplant go to waste, I scrubbed the week's haul, tossed it with olive oil, cranked the oven to 450, and let Hell's Kitchen roast it all.

It was delicious and easy.

Then in October, the squashes arrived: orange, green and tan orbs of acorn, butternut, pie pumpkin, Jack Be Nimble, kabocha and spaghetti. Autumn vegetables are even better roasted than summer ones.

And now, after all the peeling, dicing, slicing and fighting with the fridge, the harvest is winding down. Like so many things in life, once you figure it out, it ends.

Was it worth it?

Our daughters developed a taste for cucumbers and kohlrabi, while my husband discovered that he likes kale, a vegetable we had previously encountered as a garnish. And I've been surprised at the sweetness of a roasted, red baby beet--a vegetable I had previously sworn tasted like dirt.

Will we join again next year? I don't know. While we like being out of our vegetable rut and we're thankful for the farm we shared in Colorado, I'm looking forward to our last bag in December because for the past five months I've picked up vegetables at the same time, same place, during the same three-hour window. Now I'm in a scheduling rut, and I'm ready to be out of it.

I do know, however, that more than just our taste buds changed over the course of our CSA membership. We used to go to the farmer's market and think, "Where's the food?" Now, when we see the aisles of processed items at a grocery store, we ponder, "Where's the food?" For someone who grew up on Wonder Bread, that's a revolutionary idea.

For more information on community-supported agriculture near you, visit www.localharvest.org.

© Copyright 2012, KUNC
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