I'm still not cooking. I'm one week and three days away from the end of my classes, which I am looking forward to passionately. My friend is still in the ICU, so I'm pretty much always at work, in class, or at the hospital. Culinary ambition = nil.
Except that I keep thinking about the Eat Local Challenge. There's just no way to do it in New England in May, but by the end of June, when the strawberries show up, I can. So one-week-and-three-days-from-now, I'm going to start stocking up, gathering a pantry-worth of local foods. I need this sort of project, something to focus on, something that matters to me. And it gives me an excuse to buy all sorts of local foods, just as the season is opening. I also expect that, without white sugar and white flour and cocoa and coffee and hard liquor, I might lose some weight. Which, frankly, I really need to do.
My biggest concern, lack of bread, has just been allayed by the discovery that Wood Prairie Farms*, of the fabulous potatoes, also grows and sell wheat flour. Woo-hoo.
*Yes, these good folks are located 378 miles from Cambridge, which is a good bit further than the 100 miles the Eat Local people recommend. But for godsake, the Eat Local folk are in California! Land of plenty! Not hardscrabble New England. Other than some flint corn from Rhode Island, this is the only grain I can find grown in New England. And if I want to use the Challenge as a chance to change my habits in the long-term, I'm going to need some local grains. Most wheat in the U.S. is grown in North Dakota, Montana, Minnesota and South Dakota. Minnesota is 1500 miles away, Montana 2600. 'nough said.