In Season Eating

III.

“In his (sun’s) view the earth us all equally cultivated like a garden,”

Thoreau, “Walden Civil Disobedience” pg. 114

January 16, 2011-walk through Schenley Park and woods area

The drive to Schenley Park on a Sunday afternoon is very pleasant, especially during what I call the honey comb light, (simply because it reminds me of the light when someone takes a bell jar filled with honey and raises it to the window, everything seems to be tainted gold). When I got out of the car, I was surrounded by a dozen or so children are sledding, while their parents, bundled up in layers of coats, and victorious (they won the night before) Steelers scarves, braving the cold Sunday weather, occasionally chatting with other parents while drinking Starbucks specialty drinks, “Grande” skinny caramel macchiato or simply a triple shot latté. Going along the trail, the voices and screams muted until I found myself alone on the path (except for the rare jogger-who had only two layers of clothing, as opposed to my four). It was the first time in a long time that I could hear the twigs crunch and leaves crumble as I walked down an endless, snow dusted trail. It was during this hour and a half walk that I began to think back of when I was in high school. It was there tucked in the northern Michigan woods that I spent four years surrounded by a somewhat savage nature, studying art in a somewhat blue collar/ low economy mid-west town. It was there where I learned to appreciate nature, even became amused that I had to rely on forty-year old Native American manufactured snowshoes to get from one end of the campus to another. During my third year there I decided to enroll in the ecology class which mainly seemed to change how people interacted with nature. Although I enjoyed wading in Michigan Rivers, and saw the shift of lights while paddling in a canoe as frost began to wrap itself over the pine tree branches, I still didn’t fully experience any real fascination. It was during the class’ vernal equinox feast in a field in the middle of the foliage, however, that I found myself in awe one could survive (with the correct knowledge, of course) in a plentiful surrounding. During the dinner we ate fiddle heads, acorn-flecked cookies, milk-weed leaves, morel mushrooms with a bit of butter and salt, followed by a cup of hot tea made from rosehips and water which we collected from one of the smaller lakes, and then filtered and drank. After that dinner, I found myself becoming more interested in learning about the different sorts of food, edible roots one can use as an alternative to going to the grocery store. This newfound interest was however quickly paused when I moved to Chicago during my freshman year in college. Although I try to buy organic food, I find that I am not terribly conscious of the actual location where my groceries come from, just as long as it’s certified as being organic. Going “organic” is a good alternative, both in terms of health and sustainable eating, yet there are other, more local conscious ways to get the foods you want. I recently started getting into the habit of buying from local markets in Pittsburgh (this is a bit tricky in the winter however) and now I’m starting to research about eating foods that are normally available only in certain seasons. I was very compelled with how Thoreau described living in the forest, though wished he did talk a bit more, in greater detail, of what foods he ate, since he was following this very sustainable “season eating” diet.