A Year of Learning

THE BEGINNING

Last spring I was working at a mid-sized orchestra as a Development Director. It was a great working environment and finding funding for the arts was deeply satisfying. But something was missing. I have always been a person who feels deeply connected to my food. On both sides of my family, food is community, conversation and entertainment. On my days off I would gleefully search through my stack of Gourmet magazines for a new recipe or menu and happily spend the day learning, cooking and then sharing my edible creations with friends. I would look forward to coming home and watering and tending my tiny backyard garden in the evenings. It took me about 28 years to realize it, but food is my passion. So I decided to chase after that something that was missing; I decided to take some time to travel and learn about food production, to become more connected with my table and the people who filled it. I had thought that it would just be a short break in my narrative, but ultimately I became so addicted to this journey of learning that it has altered the direction of my life.

GARDENING IN HAWAII

In July 2009 I headed off to Hawaii to work and travel through a program called WWOOF (Willing Workers on Organic Farms); this is an exchange program where organic farmers host travelers who are interested in hands on learning about sustainable agriculture. I was extremely lucky to find the amazing place called Hawaii Island Retreat. The owners were just opening a small boutique hotel with the vision of creating a completely sustainable place for visitors to the Big Island. Here I had the pleasure of learning from the owners and staff about sustainable gardening in a tropical climate. I and the other volunteers built a brand new vegetable garden for the hotel's kitchen; tending, composting and weeding our way to independence from Costco and other chain grocery stores in the area. The property also had a huge orchard full of mature fruit trees: lychee, avocado, citrus, banana, sapote, passion fruit, mango...a daily bounty of more fruit than we knew what to do with. Once the vegetable garden got up and running, we found ourselves in a wonderful predicament: too much harvest to eat every day. This was easily solved with some creative kitchen solutions including vats of kim-chee, homemade nori, japanese pickles, lilikoi sabayon.

What began as a rural vacation blossomed into a deepening interest in sustainable agricultural systems. I had developed a real passion for finding the newest way to build a composting unit or fix the nitrogen deficiency in the soil. I attended farmers' conferences and hung out with local CSA owners, sold at the weekly produce markets and participated in seed exchanges. All this interaction with local agriculture opened my eyes to the many issues that interfere with something as simple as a person growing something edible and selling it for a profit to their local community. The forums I attended and people with whom I spoke informed me of the many issues that impede a healthy and sustainable local food system: the competition from larger agriculturalists who thrive in economies of scale; the lower harvests and higher labor costs inherent in working within a sustainable framework; the challenges of working with a public who has forgotten that a seasonal system means no strawberries in December; the vast amount of coordination and skill that it takes to not only know how to grow delicious and healthy food, but also to market and manage the distribution of that food to local restaurants and grocery stores. Growing within me was an immense respect for the everlasting enthusiasm and commitment I saw in so many farmers.

Rather quickly, I was asked to oversee the volunteer program for Hawaii Island Retreat and began to read everything I could get my hands on about organic gardening. In my work organizing and scheduling the volunteer gardeners, I also developed an appreciation for the fine art of middle management. It was no easy task to fit in the needs of an ever-changing group of workers with the daily functioning of a high-end eco-retreat. I definitely came away with a greater understanding of the need for clear, constant communication. I left Hawaii with a new love for tropical fruit, an appreciation for the delicate and beautiful eco-system of a tropical island and a satisfyingly concrete measure of my accomplishments.

CHEESE & FRANCE

While at Hawaii Island Retreat we also worked with animals on the property, my favorite were the goats. If you have ever seen a young kid hopping sideways down the path towards you and leaning her tiny head up for a pet, you understand that these animals are endearing to the point of obsession. The small herd was kept for milk and each day we tended to their needs, milked by hand and made cheese, ice cream, ghee and many other products for the community of guests and workers. I have long been an enthusiastic dairy consumer, but learning about the animals and recipes turned me into a full-fledged dairy geek. It was this newfound love that led me to plan the next great adventure of the year: cheese-making in France.

In April I again used the wonderful WWOOF program to schedule stays at various farms in southern France. In particular, I was interested in learning more about the skills and lifestyle of farmstead cheese makers. Living in the country outside of Narbonne, we milked the animals twice daily, and made several different traditional cheeses: tomme, camembert, chevre and fromage blanc. The recipes had been used for generations, the direct connection from the animal we cared for that morning and the delicious cheeses we ate for lunch was a perfect circle. It reminded me of the ever changing modifications inherent in dealing with something so delicate as an eco-system; it rained, the goats gave less milk, the cheese was smaller the next day. While traveling around the country side, I visited many small cheese operations, spoke with the farmers about their connection to tradition, their particular piece of land, the seasons, the community. All of them said the same things: tradition is important; feeding their community is a constant, fluid dance of appreciation and communication; tending their animals and working with their hands brought them balance. Again, my perspective widened and my appreciation grew.

BACK TO CALIFORNIA

Now I am at the end of my journey. I have just arrived home, back to the states to join the world of working and to tend to my own community. My small passion for food and farmers has blossomed into a commitment to incorporate this enthusiasm into every corner of my life: work, relationships, lifestyle. I have all the rowdy enthusiasm of a new baby goat to get to work, make some changes, make some things happen. I don't know where this new road ends, but I know which direction I'm pointed.