day 13
Time to meet some of the people who've been
feeding me recently. Driving upstate, I pass fields, silos, huge
Vs of flying geese. At Beth's Farm Kitchen, in Stuyvesant
Falls, NY, six women are mixing up jams and chutneys
in (it's true) the kitchen of an old farmhouse. As Beth, an
energetic 67-year-old, proudly lists the farmers who grew her
strawberries, rhubarb and apples, I think about another word
I've just learned: "traceability." In an age of bioterrorism and
"corporate organic," shouldn't we know the path our dinner
has taken? Where was it grown? Were chemicals used? The
idea is to recognize that we're all part of the food chain, and
choose where we want to connect.