So I've posted many a time about my food ethos--of eating locally, sustainably grown goods over conventional goods coming from god-knows-where. I like to support my local farmers and food artisans, my local food purveyors, and small businesses.
But what happens when eating locally leaves you feeling a consistent sense of lack?
I know that some very dedicated and talented individuals have conducted eating experiments where they stay inside their watershed for all foods except items like spices and maybe coffee. I have never pretended to be that dedicated. I must have my chocolate, my spices, my oils and vinegars, my wines, my italian tomatoes. But for veggies, and now, cheeses, I've stayed true to my region.
My downfall is bread. With my apologies to any 'sconnies reading this entry, there is no good bread to be had in our little corner of the state. Well, there's decent bread in She-town, but only one variety.
I needed a Zingerman's fix, and I needed it quickly, a need which they so graciously obliged to fill. I placed my order on Wednesday morning, and when I arrived home from work today I found a big box inside my foyer, stuffed with three loaves of bread. I cradled the loaves, sniffed deeply of the crust, and promptly sliced off a huge hunk to stick in the oven before slathering with Wisconsin butter and honey from Suttons Bay, Michigan.
The crisp crust, holey interior, and delicious crumb made my heart melt with happiness (remembered tastes) and sadness (that returning home-less-ness feeling). I laced up my tennis shoes and went for a long walk, following the sandy shores of the lake and allowing the waves to ease my sadness. I imagined life on the other side of the Lake. I thought about my life here. I came home and ate dinner whilst reading the Zingy's newsletter that was so thoughtfully included in my package. I smiled to read about how the Bakehouse bakers worked with Michael London, a man I had just read about a few nights ago in this bread book I'm reading. (I know, first pies, and now bread. I'm wondering when I'm going to stumble on the cake book!).
I hate spending my now dreaming of the future and revisiting the past more than enjoying the moment, but sometimes, my mind makes its own way through the meandering web of time. I started scheming about multiple Zingy's trips over holiday break...and I can't wait to walk through those doors and hit the chaos and the profusion of gastronomic goodness that I so love and think of as my culinary HOME.