Today, Froody and I returned from a long weekend of camping. It was great, and as soon as the pix are ready, I'll share them with you. The home larder was bare, so I went to buy fruit and veggies for the rest of the week.
Normally we do all our produce shopping at the local farmers market. But since we missed it, I had no choice but to go to a grocery store. I planned on making a recipe that called for capers, so I decided that the local Safeway was the best choice (more likely than Trader Joe's to have capers, and cheaper than Draeger's).
My hand stopped midway to the kale, immobilized by the thought, "I have no idea where this kale came from." I pulled my hand back and scanned the produce aisle. Much of the veggies had come from Mexico. I had to look at the bands holding the bunches of chard and dandelion greens together to see where they were from, but they only said they were from the USA.
Then, I realized that I've never thought about where my food comes from until this January.
Next, I thought it was strange thinking it was strange not to know where my food is from. Anyway, I bought about $100 in produce. I had to suck it up and buy some stuff from who-knows-where.
The checkout guy started in on me about how kids these days don't eat enough vegetables or fruit, yadda-yadda-yadda. Blame it on the parents, blah-blah-blah. It took me a while to realize he was impressed with the amount of vegetables my family obviously ate.
