preparations -- and defining "local"

The farmers market was overflowing by 7:30 am. After the first of four streets my arms were tired -- I had so much food. The convenience store is called that for a reason. The carts are really nice. Not like the farmers market is inconvenient; I am lucky enough to have 3 different ones each week within walking distance of my apartment.

I live in a studio apartment with about one foot of kitchen counter-space and a dorm-sized refrigerator and freezer. It's not that my landlords are cheap (although, what landlords in Madison aren't?) -- but there just isn't enough room in my kitchen to put any large appliances. I can't fit everything I bought today into my fridge and so I am hoping things like apples and beets will be okay on the counter for awhile.

At the market I learned from Tom Brantmeier what the difference is between hard and soft whole wheat flour. Then I bought the hard flour -- better for baking bread. I have never made bread by hand. I don't know exactly how to knead dough, and I hope I can find a Wikipedia entry on that. Actually, I didn't own a rolling pin until last week and it's still wrapped in the plastic casing.

Yes, it is time I learned to cook. And I want to begin my cooking experience with local ingredients. If I begin by examining whole ingredients used in recipes, I think I will really be able to understand what I take for granted. And what I am willing to compromise.

I always thought I ate "locally" -- but when I learned about the authors of Plenty eating within a 100 mile radius of their home, I began to see that what I eat every day, just is not local at all. Wheat is difficult to come by, olive oil is out of the question. Salt, pepper, chocolate, sugar, coffee, most spices. What on earth can I actually cook without those things? Oh yeah -- and I eat rice and beans at least once a day, every day. No more of that.

I 'm choosing the Martha Stewart Living Cookbook to explore for one month because it's somewhere in between the dumbed-down Rachel Ray and the out-of-my-league-right-now Alice Waters. I want a cookbook to cover all the basics and bases. From meat to poultry, breads, pasta, pizza, pies, cakes and drinks. I want to learn how to knead dough and cut carrots into batons.

But as I poured over each recipe, I realized that only six recipes (yes, I'm serious) could be cooked in their entirety with ingredients grown within 100 miles of my apartment in Madison. And this is assuming I let myself use salt (not local) and that I actually have the equipment (ricer or food mill, anyone?). My experiment in learning to cook locally seemed doomed.

That said, I have given myself some exceptions. If I let myself use one non-local ingredient on top of the salt, I could add about 50 more recipes to my learning experience. Olive oil. I think California has the closest olive oil, but the thought of using bacon grease for all my cooking is grossing me out right now. Also, if I use my local Brantmeier Farm flour in place of the all-purpose flour that Martha calls for, I add several more recipes -- although Martha might be unhappy with the results. Anyways, I am just fine with disappointing both Martha and hardcore locavores for the exchange of one ingredient on each side of the fence.

The point of all this isn't to prove something but rather to really think about ingredients and how far they have traveled -- while learning how to cook actual recipes.

Things I will miss: chocolate, lemon juice, sugar, cinnamon, cumin, tuna, peanut butter (already made), rice, chickpeas, and lentils.