I can think of better times to start an experiment like this than when I’m seven months pregnant, avoiding gluten, and cooking mostly vegetarian for my husband. To make matters worse, little more than citrus, nuts and mixed greens grow locally at this time of year. It’s 6:25PM and I still don’t know what I’m serving for dinner.
I did enjoy one moment of success this morning. Brad and I whipped up some quick raw, vegan cookies from the great raw chef, Ani Phyo's dessert book. We combined local pecans, orange juice--from the oranges growing in our front yard--and dates with cinnamon (not local, thank you Trader Joes) for some delicious and healthy cookies. They sustained us while trekking downtown with the jog stroller and our friends Hannah and her little ones.
In the city we visited the local public market which claims to offer local, seasonal produce. A shelf full of bananas should have been my first clue that we didn’t share the same definition of “local.” But I wandered through the store determined to eat as close to home and as close to the season as possible. I picked up a package of corn tortillas and jalepeno cheese, both from local purveyors, and figured I could make some version of enchiladas or fajitas. This is the Southwest after all. Sadly, my search for a tomato, avocado and bell peppers drove me far from home all the way to California and then Mexico.
I have some office work to do until later this evening, but after that I’m heading to the grocery store to buy something to eat, whether it comes from down the street or Chile. At the end of the day, I feel like a failure. A hungry failure. And we still need coffee for tomorrow morning, which I’m confident doesn’t grow in the mountains of Flagstaff.