Going Green

---

Raised bed gardening, Zion style.

---

I've jumped on the green bandwagon in the last year- too late to make money off it, but early enough in my life to make an impact on my health and conscience. I carry around Whole Foods cloth bags in my big ol' Dodge Ram, and even remember to bring them into the store with me once in a while. I use my pick-up to haul around compost for churches and private homes for free. As I told my sorta-kinda compost mentor (a master sheet gardener and guerilla gardener extraordinaire), I figure if I have a big honkin' truck, I might as well use it for good once in a while. Yeah, the mileage is shitty and I help all my friends move their stuff around when their leases are up, but now I walk to the Feve or the library instead of driving the two blocks. I can't promise anything once the temperature drops to 50 degrees in Oberlin, but it's a start.

Even better, I have a garden now. It's a raised bed deal, so no messing with rabbits and voles or whatever lurks in the soil in Ohio. It's a community garden organized by a local church. They gave us the plots, the tools, the water, and a pile of loamy, organic, compost chock-full of worms, pill bugs and alpaca dung. Yes, they have alpaca farms here. It's a thing. So you know, a valuable source told me it is the only dung that can be used fresh from the animal without curing it. Seems like fodder for another post, y'all!

I spend anywhere from 20 minutes to an hour and a half a day watering, pruning, thinning, and just salivating over the three and a half plots my friends and I share. What I've learned is this: I love the soil. I love the worms that turn waste into vibrant food for my plants. I love the microcosmic dramas playing out under the leaves. I bend over my kale, arugula, lettuce, and spinach and pick off green caterpillars for hours. I've rooted on a jumping spider's attempt to take down a little yellow and black beetle mid-air. I garden in a bikini, which, incidentally, is a great way to tan your back. I look like a human version of a dolphin, all dark dorsal area and creamy pale on the front. It's hot.

---

I grew that with my own two hands and God's earth. Arugula and lettuce to the left, baby spinach to the right.

---

I've learned to let go of attachments with this garden. We started planting on the Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend. A bunch of cold hands throwing out tiny seeds in hopeful rows, and piles of compost and mulch. It was exciting, not knowing what my plants would look like coming up, and they all came up: tomatoes, cauliflower, broccoli, green beans, peas, peppers, chives, red onions, and the abovementioned greens. Our green beans have been too fruitful, and we've had to uproot many. The act of uprooting makes a strange sound, but tomatoes and pepper plants don't like to be overshadowed by too-closely planted green beans. The broccoli plants need their space, too. Seems like plants really need their personal space, but the results are more obviously physical than the human version.

I've also learned that growing your own food is easy in the right climate, with the right tools and input. I have more kale than I know how to prepare. Lettuce, it likes to keep on giving, as long as you cut it enough. I even grew spinach, despite the doubters. Fresh Spinach, people. I'm rolling in the green, and save significant amounts of money. I priced it out; if I were to purchase the same amount of greens that my garden produces (and I consume) a week, I'd be spending around $10-20 a week. Now I can use that saved money for gasoline. No, really. Parsley and arugula are expensive. A tiny bunch of kale costs $4.00, and it's not anywhere near as fresh as my just-cut-righthefucknow kale. I eat while I garden- or did, before I noticed the bugs competing with me. I kind of take the goods home and wash them now.

I'm happy in the solitude, and happy when someone else comes along and works on their plot next to mine. Yeah, we shit talk once in a while. Someone decided to plant four zucchini plants in a 3x8 space. You've got to see it to understand what a colossal failure that is. I'll show photos soon.

What have you planted lately? I haven't just planted physical plants. It's a tad sentimental, but it's good. I need to get a PSA going for this.

Eat Local: Rosemary Potato Wheat Bread

---

---

I walked into the Oberlin market this afternoon to buy my daily serving of "local" fruit, since I'm taking the Eat Local Challenge seriously. I found the little pears and apples easily, but I can't just run in and out of a store efficiently. I like to meander and rifle through the product, making myself want more things than I need. This time it wasn't just product that kept me looking; no, the most gorgeous, earthy, pizza-like, bread-y aroma filled the room. I stepped into the little bakery next to the cash register and was pointed toward lovely, freshly-baked loaves of rosemary potato bread.

It was still warm and, thankfully, the flavor matched the promising aroma. My roommate and I walked around Oberlin finishing our errands while eating large chunks of the loaf. Half of it was gone twenty minutes after buying it. Do you see those weird muffins under the rich loaves? Those are garam masala muffins. The bread was so good that I'm willing to try the garam masala muffins next time I'm there.

Next up: a review of old school milk. You know, the kind that was taken from a cow just down the road and presented in a glass jar. Wish me luck!

Eat Local: Ohio Challenge

---

---

I recently wrote a post for Technorati about The Eat Local Challenge, which was kicked off by Local Matters on October first. This is their noble, and tempting, movement to motivate citizens to eat locally-grown food, based on the idea that it's healthier for you than the alternatives and will help the local economy. I agree with both points, and I totally wanted to take part in the challenge (I've failed at doing it by myself earlier this year), but I live in northern Ohio, and they're based out of central Ohio. I wasn't able to sign up for the challenge (or prizes) in person, but I decided to follow the challenge's guidelines on my own up here.

The challenge is simple: select three or more ways to eat local this month. Some are obvious (try an Ohio-grown food), but you can visit a farmers market, eat at a "locally-minded restaurant", cook a full meal with only local ingredients, host a local food potluck, etc...

I went the easy route and bought those locally-grown apples and pears up there. Needless to say, they're gone. They tasted like typical apples, delicious and mild, but honestly, there wasn't a noticeable flavor improvement. I was expecting something orgasmic, based on the way local food proponents talk about local produce. Not so much this time, but it won't deter me from following through with the challenge. The point to eating locally isn't just flavor, but additional nutrition (and, if you read that link to the Harvard site above, you'll know I'm right) and community support.

There are some pretty neat food items on the shelves of Oberlin's local market. I'm looking forward to experimenting with them this month, so you're going to be seeing them, as well!

Slow Train | Reuben Pub Pie

---

Pastrami is the most sensual of the cured meats.

---

I tasted my first Gray House Pub Pie at Slow Train today. I, of course, went with the reuben pub pie (because I'm George Costanza).

The experience started off a bit shakily, with the server microwaving the pie right in front of my best "look of horror" face. They claimed the pies were made with 100% sweet butter, however, and there was enough of that to coat my fork in liquid gold when I cut into it. That gave me hope - for a moment.

Something was off with the pastrami. A call to Gray House the next day (Why - yes, I am insane!) confirmed that the company uses roast beef for the pie's filling.

The point is: Gray House does not do reubens well, but does anyone outside of a Manhattan deli?

In any event, the crust good enough that I'm willing to forgive Gray House. I'm so willing to forgive that I've already made plans to drive out to the source and try a freshly-baked Gray House pub pie, despite my experience with the reuben ...

... the microwave, however, was unforgivable. Bad, Slow Train! Bad!

The Dangers of Blueberry Picking

---

Picking fruit in Florida can get really ugly. We hang with gators, sun-bathing cotton mouth snakes, rattlesnakes, an assortment of mean spiders, and we all spray poisonous chemicals on our bodies to deter disease-carrying mosquitoes. You can imagine my surprise when, while picking blueberries down at Chance Creek Blues, I observed this warning:

---

They forgot to mention "butterflies" and "sunshine".

---

My first reaction was that the notice was a joke. The farm is located on the outskirts of Oberlin, a liberal college town full of hipster, ironic Millenials, after all.

I tested my hypothesis on the gentle college graduate manning the shed. I told him I'd been chased by a bee for a couple of feet. He looked startled and asked (very cutely and earnestly), "Ohmygosh, are you okay? You weren't stung, were you?"

---

---

I laughed all the way to the blueberry bushes, high on being the biggest predator in Ohio. My competition that day consisted of a couple of fat beetles and grandmothers. I have to admit, I'm loving it here.

Oberlin | Farmers' Market

---

---

A year ago today (okay, give or take a couple of weeks), I was getting ready to move from West Palm Beach, FL to Oberlin, OH. Moving was quite a stressful "life event", and like every good American, I comforted myself with shopping while under duress.

I arrived in June, right in time to alleviate the he(ck) out of my stress at the Oberlin Farmers' Market. A motley group of farmer-hippies congregated under white tents in the middle of downtown Oberlin, a five minute walk from my apartment.

That was the first bonus; I'd never experienced a market within walking distance from my home either in Miami or West Palm, where one needs a car to do anything worthwhile.

The clean white tents and beautiful produce made me giddy, so I may have scared the gentle hippie farmers a bit with my enthusiasm. Our interactions consisted of me saying "I'll take this one and that one," and me snatching things from tables.

See those carrots and that parsley up there? Those were mine, as were those chives.

---

At $12 a pop, you bet I de-stressed.

---

The second bonus? The pies pictured here. Amazing. I don't have a shot of the strawberry-rhubarb pie, and I wish I had bought it. I did go for the goat cheeses, of course, as well as lavender room spray, lavender honey, and a couple of spinach quiches.

Summer has strolled around, and the Oberlin Farmers' Market is open again every Saturday through October, from 9:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. I'm working up the courage to buy some of the grass-fed lamb or beef I was too cowardly to buy last year, but really, I'm going back for the strawberry-rhubarb pie. I'll be forced to bake my own if there is none, which may not end well (watch out, future roommates!).

Oberlin Farmers' Market:
85 S. Main St.
Oberlin, Oh 44074
440.774.2906
Saturdays 10am-1pm
May - October

The Feve | Black River Belles

---

The Feve is a local restaurant that is many kinds of awesome, if for no other reason than bringing tater tots back into my life after I'd convinced myself I'd outgrown them.

The Feve is also the only cool restaurant/bar that's open past 11:00 PM in Oberlin's corner of northern Ohio, and it boasts a kick-ass micro-scene with patrons like Tym Switzer, Stevie Wonder, and Danny DeVito passing by to share chocolate and wine with Jason (the bar's owner) and his crew of pretty college-age employees.

I was lucky enough to duck in during a Black River Belles concert last Sunday. The Belles are a terrific blue grass folk band made up of three cute Southern gals who Rock Out to the classics, but who are also capable of belting out a few originals which are equally convincing.

---

Unlike Dave Matthews, this sounded better live.

---

The Belles are fronted by Helena Thompson, who has become my heroin by virtue of her delicious butterscotch voice and tolerance for whiskey. She also claims to be a good kisser, but I will neither confirm nor deny this fact.

Can you tell I'm a bit smitten? GIRL CRUSH!

The other band members seem just as skilled and gorgeous as Thompson. Erin Lobb is on Cello and sings backup (listen to her version of Shankill Butchers), while Sara Sasaki's little red cowgirl boots lead me to believe that could pull off one of Paganini's violin pieces, no sweat.

Overall, the Belle's performance was very involving - and it was refreshing to see performers who aren't afraid to sweat on their instruments.

Really, I've seen so many "big, rich, rockbands" give half-assed shows at expensive venues with zero effort made to connect to the very audiences who paid for their Lear jets and Bluebird tour buses ...

... and that's my review of last Sunday at the Feve, people! I hope you enjoyed it and I can't wait to go again. See you there!

Black River Cafe | Pork Sandwich

---

Oberlin has quite a lot going for it, if you're into the sorts of things Oberlin has going for it: organic meats, cheeses, and produce, riding a bicycle, walking in a very relaxed manner, strange hairdos, wearing cow costumes on the street, great music, and businesses that open whenever they damn well feel like it, to name a (somewhat random) few.

Oberlin's famous notorious Black River Cafe epitomizes all of the above qualities.

It's a pleasant surprise when the BRC's actually open, and what you order off the menu is usually organic and always high quality. The waitresses tend towards the beautiful, funky, and languorous type, and will get to you when they get to you (unless you know their names and majors).

I happened upon an open BRC just today, in fact, and was greeted by "Amy", a red-headded history major who used to work at the local Chinese restaurant- and she remembered me! I was seated within five minutes of being there.

Five minutes is fast for the BRC. Really.

I ordered a pulled pork sandwich instead of my usual BLT today. The gorgeous sandwich is pictured, above, with its crisp baguette, slow-cooked pork, muenster cheese, and chipotle mayonnaise (no barbecue sauce on this piggy!) that brought a much appreciated heat that built up steadily with every bite. The lovely soup (also shown) is a roasted red pepper and tomato puree.

While the BRC has quite a few vegan offerings, this plate obviously isn't one of them!

I went with a friend, and our two pulled pork sandwiches, two cups of soup, and peach-raspberry iced teas amounted to under $20 ... not bad for made-from-scratch, porky goodness!

Local Brews

---

When I first moved to Palm Beach, I complained that there weren't any locally brewed beers worth mentioning. I was wrong, and soon found the delicious Monk in a Trunk created by the Inlet Brewing Company in Jupiter, FL.

Now, West Palm Beach isn't horrible as far as cities go, but it is one of the more "plastic", superficial places to exist anywhere on the planet. Even so, it is a "real city", and I was worried that I wouldn't find any good microbrews after moving to Oberlin this summer.

I am optimistic, however. Let's face it: if a delicious, Belgian-style beer could be found in this soulless, plastic burg, there is bound to be a decent brewery around Oberlin, Ohio. A quick Google search confirmed this heady (for me) optimism, yielding both the Great Lakes Brewing Company and Fat Head's Brewery and Saloon, among many others.

Reviews coming soon, people. Stay tuned.

Oberlin Surprise

---

I'm fresh off a plane into Miami from Oberlin, Ohio, and I'm pretty optimistic about the food situation there.

I was a bit worried that I wouldn't have any good restaurant options, but how wrong I turned out to be!

The restaurants along Main Street (right in the thick of the college) rely on locally-sourced produce. The Black River Cafe, for example, offers local beefs and bacons which are delightfully free from any chemical flavorings, and the proof of using truly fresh ingredients is right there. I ate a BLT and didn't feel heavy or bloated. It was like heaven, except with more hippies than I thought they'd let in.

Similarly, the Feve - a very "accepting" bar that makes up 50% of Oberlin's nightlife - also puts local growers to good use. I put a serious hurting on a half-pound bacon cheeseburger and another half-pound of tater tots there, and didn't feel that "I can't believe I ate the whole thing" feeling I get from fast-food and chain restaurants.

There were other treasures as well, from Gibson's candy shop to Java Zone's Frankie Pizza, but that will all be waiting for me after my move. I can't wait!