On food miles
In my inaugural blog post, I mentioned that one of the compelling things about cooking for yourself is an environmental edge. Control what you eat, and you can control your environmental impact.
The green food movement has become overwhelmingly popular. I haven’t been to a supermarket in years that lacked clearly labeled organic offerings. And as sure as the adage “Local is the new organic” has become cliché, groceries are begging to offer a wider stock of local offerings.
The drive to eat local produce has lead to growth of community supported agriculture in the United States. Community supported agriculture requires customers to pay for a season of produce up-front. The farm benefits: its operating costs are covered, even in the event of a sub-par harvest. And the consumers are guaranteed produce that is fresh, seasonal, and local.
My family, for the second year in a row, has bought a stake in One Straw Farm, our local CSA. Upcoming blog adventures will feature their produce. I’m psyched about it. Getting your hands on fresh, seasonal produce is something any cook worth his salt lives for. I’m just not particularly psyched about my tiny carbon footprint, because, quite frankly, I have no idea if One Straw Farm is going to make my household greener.
Like most things in life, eating green isn’t simple enough to collapse into the “x is the new y” structure. A study commissioned by the UK’s Department for Environment Food and Rural Affairs tackled this very problem. The result is a 117-page-report entitled “The Validity of Food Miles as an Indicator of Sustainable Development.” The report taught me at least two things: you can’t ask someone to pay attention for 117 pages of bureaucratic writing, and government studies do not employ imaginative titles.
But don’t worry, I took one for the team and skimmed the hell out of that report.
The study comes to a counterintuitive conclusion: “A single indicator based on total food kilometres is an inadequate indicator of sustainability.”
Why so complicated?
The food infrastructure matters. Centralized food distribution is designed to make the loading of large trucks as efficient as possible. That system requires the food to travel a fairly far distance, as it’s completely dependent on the location of centralized food processing centers.
However, when you get food from a closer source, odds are you aren’t taking advantage of the large-scale efficiencies available in centralized food processing. At a centralized food processing center, trucks do not drive off unless they are full. At a local farm, when the crop output is lower, a truck is going to cart food to you without the benefit of transporting a full load.
And because farmer’s markets and community supported agriculture specialize in produce, most use those resources to supplement regular shopping trips – generating extra carbon emissions on the consumer end.
That isn’t to say community supported agriculture is a raw deal. (I couldn’t resist the pun.) Local produce isn’t bred to hold up during transport – instead it’s bred for flavor. It’s also generally fresher. But my favorite part about one straw farm isn’t the flavor or the freshness – it’s the opertunity to challenge my comfort zone. Community supported agriculture means limited flexibility about what produce you get. But without that limitation, I’d get stuck in a rut. If it hadn’t been for a glut of kale, I never would’ve tried Indian-Spiced Lentils with Kale. This week I will cook patty pan squash for the first time in my life. It’s like living in an episode of Iron Chef with a new theme ingredient chosen for me every week.
So give your local food a chance. It won’t save the planet. But it will teach you something new about food.
