Lawrence.com

When was the last time you knew where your food came from? Who grew it? Where was it grown? What went into growing it?

Or for that matter, what did the plant look like? The flowers? The buds? What does it taste like when it's eaten just minutes or hours after it was picked versus after days or weeks being shipped hundreds of miles and stored and/or processed before it finds your table?

I've always found it easy, comforting, and even enjoyable to not think about these things when I cut into a huge tomato making my famous chili on New Years Day. Nothing like a good New Years tomato in Lawrence, Kansas. Probably grown in Arizona. Not that there is anything intrinsically wrong with eating food grown in the desert and shipped 2,000 miles so it can be eaten out of season. But maybe there is something wrong with not knowing where your food comes from.

After all, we demand labels to know the nutritional value of our food, even at McDonalds, and we put warning labels on packs of cigarettes even though no one needs to be reminded of the dangers of smoking. Some cities have even taken to banning foods like foie gras and cooking with hydrogenated oil because of the dangers to public health.

So why is it we don't care where our food comes from, who grew it, and how they grew it?

I've begun to realize that I actually do care. I think it was right around the time I planted a garden for the first time two years ago. The finest restaurants have not served me better squash, tomatoes, watermelon, peppers, or eggplant. It became a sublime thrill to race home at the end of the day to see what sprouted and what didn't, or what tipped over, or what was ready to pick. What I'm able to grow here isn't in my top ten favorite fruits and vegetables, but I'd always rather eat something I grew than something I knew little about.

That said, I have nothing against eating what you like. I don't have all day and night to tend to my garden and I don't (yet) have the capability to grow all of my own food throughout the year.

But surprisingly (to some, anyway-unsurprisingly to others) there are actually many ways to find much or even all of the food you could want or need right here in the northeastern Kansas.

Here, it's possible, though challenging, to eat a "100-mile diet." The goal: restrict your diet to food grown or raised within a 100-mile radius of your front door.

Now, I know what you are thinking. "I'd like to try this but I think I'd go hungry in about a week." I was one of those surprised to discover the abundance of local farms that will sell you or even let you pick your own fruits, vegetables, nuts, and seeds as well as buy beef, chicken, and pork raised just a short drive from Mass. Street. Somebody on your block may even have fresh eggs from their backyard chickens for sale.

You won't starve to death, you'll meet some new friends, and you'll support local farmers and the local economy. You also gain a better appreciation of the seasons and begin to taste food as it's meant to taste.

This weekend there is a great opportunity to check out farms in the area and see what all they offer. It's a fun community event and a convenient way to put together your first 100-mile-meal! »