I first heard of their website a few months ago as they neared the end of their one year, self-imposed experiment. At the beginning, they focused mainly on the challenges of finding local sources for various kinds of food. Some of their early meals were fairly boring and repetitive, but soon they were meeting farmers who introduced them to new produce and they began to learn about eating seasonally, so their meals became more interesting than ever before. By and large they ate organically with little or no packaging associated with the food they bought. Nothing they consumed traveled more than 100 miles to get to their kitchen.

So, what’s the point of an exercise like this? Some people have criticized the 100-mile diet as being too impractical, inconvenient, or damn-near-impossible for any but the most hardcore hunter/gatherer. Certainly anyone with a full-time job is going to be hard-pressed to find the time to source local wheat to mill into flour to bake their own bread with… or whatever it is those crazy left-coasters did. My take is that this criticism misses the point. By undertaking the 100-mile diet Alisa and James were trying to raise awareness of the variety of local food sources that are outside of the mainstream. They were trying to promote seasonal eating. They were focusing on choices and making some changes to our eating habits — not overhauling them completely. Do we all need to go on a one-year 100-mile diet? No. Can we learn something from their experience? Definitely. Would it be a valuable experience to attempt a 100-mile meal? Absolutely.

That’s Billions… with a B

Not too long ago, hairy-headed hippies started dropping out of colleges and dropping into intentional communities. Although these communes varied widely, one common theme was a focus on growing food with little or no fertilizer, pesticides, or other petrochemical inputs. Fast forward through the collapse of these idealistic yet impractical experiments to the present day, and we see some of the founders of some of those communes still at it as the chief executives of some of the largest organic food businesses in North America, including Cascadian Farms and Whole Foods Market.

Back in the day, the idea of organic farming was ridiculed, and indeed, many inexperienced back-to-the-landers succeeded only in producing fruits and vegetables that looked horrible and tasted only slightly better. Among the many failures, a few successes appeared. These hardy souls continued to work at improving their yields and create markets for their produce. But it was the “alar scare” in the 90’s — largely due to a 60 Minutes exposé on conventional apple growers’ use of the carcinogen alar — that brought organic food out of the food co-op and into the supermarket. People wanted safe food for their families and organic growers were happy to supply it. Today the Canadian organic food retail sector is worth $3.1 billion and it is expected to grow to 10% of the total food market by 2010.

What If…

It’s statistics like that that get my brain working overtime on “what if” scenarios. What if 10% of my family’s grocery budget bought food that was produced in my community? What if my neighbours all did the same? What if my local supermarket had a whole section of the store devoted to local products, like some Provigo stores in Quebec do? The impact of that kind of investment in the local economy would be incredible.

Like the switch to organic food, the switch to local is going to take some work. We need local farmers to continue growing and working to create markets for their produce. We need committed and concerned citizens to continue to seek out these producers and help them find new customers. And finally, unfortunately, we probably need to wait for some crisis or scare — high gas prices driving up imported food prices or E.coli in imported spinach, for example — to hit the media so that, suddenly, everyone will be trying to find local food suppliers.

How far would you go for a good meal?

Getting Started

This won’t come as a big surprise to regular Green Page readers, but I’m going to point you down the road to your farmer’s market — a terrific resource not only for healthy local food, but also for information about what’s available in this season and in this area. The good folks at ecoPerth have amassed bushels of information about Farm Gate Sales, which is readily available at ecoperth.on.ca. Over the past months, the Lanark County Slow Food group has been holding potlucks and picnics, with the idea being that the main ingredient in your offering is grown by you or someone you know. For more information about these delectable get-togethers, call Janet Duncan (256–2933), Cheryl Nash (267–7623), or even this month’s profiled artist Susie Osler (268–2024).

Many restaurants are starting to source more of their food from local growers. Don’t be afraid to ask the owners about it, and let them know you appreciate them supporting the local economy and ensuring high-quality food by buying close to home. If you want help jumping in to the whole 100-mile diet concept, reserve a spot at The Ironworks Restaurant’s100-km Dinner on October 19 (call 256–7940). It will feature four courses and showcase a number of local producers, so you can make connections that will carry over to your dinner table.

Bon appétit!