Manna in the Neon Wilderness

A few months ago, my husband Sean and I sat in our living room rummaging through crumbs and unwanted nuts at the bottom of a bowl of Chex mix. Sean pulled out a Brazil nut and stared at it. “Who ever even thought to eat that?” He asked. “It looks like a freakin’ piece of wood.”

This summer, Sean and I joined a Community Supported Agriculture program (or CSA) with our friends Catherine and Jarrett Knox. CSAs, increasingly popular among city-dwellers, are partnerships where local farmers sell food “shares” to support themselves before the harvest and then those who buy the shares pick up boxes of organic produce straight from the farm. Ours is coming to a close, having lasted about 20 weeks.

Since Sean and I tend to be fairly traditional in our food selections, I had never seen – or even heard of – some of the vegetables that appeared in our weekly share. So, this summer’s recurring question was this: How did anyone ever decide you could eat some of these vegetables, anyhow? I mean, kohlrabi? It looks like it wandered out of Monsters, Inc.!

Participating in a CSA this summer not only broadened my culinary horizons, it also taught me a thing or two about trust.

Joining a CSA immediately provided surprises. Catherine Knox received an email that gave the host’s address, phone number, and garage door code. The hosts were a family who opened their garage and let CSA subscribers grab their shares. Yes, we just traipsed into someone’s garage and helped ourselves to the farm-fresh wonders within: veggies, cheese, and eggs (depending on which we paid for). People don’t quiver about this kind of thing in Amish country, where I grew up, but in Chicago this is rare. “It’s a very good thing I have the Holy Spirit,” says Catherine. “Because taking all of those cheese shares was totally tempting.”

Soon I realized that the hosts weren’t the only ones for whom this was an act of faith. The Knoxes and Talbots spent $300 per couple, and we had little idea what sort of food we were getting. The amount and tastiness of the food would depend on the quality of growing conditions. And, Catherine pointed out, we would have to trust the farmers to be generous, since it would be easy to pretend the harvest had been weak and pull one over on the Chicagoans. It was like manna: we had to trust that good and nourishing food was waiting for us.

The day before each pickup, Home Grown Wisconsin, who ran our CSA, sent out a newsletter listing which veggies we would find under the drop cloth in the host’s garage. I’m used to planning the dishes I want to make, hopping online to sort recipes by rating, then rolling through the aisles to buy what I need. This was more like being a kid and not knowing what was for dinner till I smelled it cooking. I was handed food and hunted around on blogs to plan my meals around a few key vegetables. We ate less of our favorite meals this summer, but found some delectable zucchini and beet recipes that we would not have eaten otherwise. Melissa Garrett, who has subscribed to Chicago-area CSAs for the past four years, agrees, “We have discovered our love of leeks, parsnips, turnips, and kohlrabi from getting those veggies and having to figure out what the heck to do with them!”

Kohlrabi
Kohlrabi

It is kind of ironic that right after a summer in which I was given box after box of mystery vegetables, I was also handed a series of life events I wouldn’t have predicted, starting with my husband becoming very ill for a month-long stretch. So, that picture of walking home with a mixed bag of Swiss chard, rhubarb, raspberries, and cucumbers is one that stays with me. I like to make use of things; it hurts me that cauliflower is moldering in the crisper as I write. In some way, the events of this autumn will be nourishing, and if I learned what to do with kohlrabi, perhaps I can learn what to do with these changes. (Kohlrabi makes a lovely apple-slaw, incidentally, and it’s also good roasted.)

Aside from the lessons learned, now that CSA season in the Midwest is nearly through, I find myself wondering if I’ll partner with the local farmers in this way again next year. This makes me wonder – what circumstances would make a CSA worthwhile for someone? What factors would make it less desirable? Here’s what I’ve decided, with input from fellow CSA veterans Catherine Knox and Melissa Garrett.

CSAs are excellent if:

– You place great importance on receiving food from local sources. CSAs let you stay connected with local farms, and the money you pay up front helps them toward a solid harvest. Many CSAs send newsletters with articles about what each farm is like. One farm that supplied our food uses horses to avoid fossil fuels.

– You want to eat fruits and vegetables that are in season and learn to live off what the land provides.

– You love to try new foods and new recipes.

– You know trustworthy blogs with good seasonal recipes and you have time to experiment with recipes or already have good ones in your repertoire.

– You live in an area where it is hard to get local produce, but easy to find a CSA pick-up location.

– You have a family that feels adventurous about even the kookiest vegetables.

– You want to can and/or freeze so that nothing goes to waste, or you have people you can share any extra vegetables with.

– You are interested in seeing the farm that grows your food.

CSAs are not ideal if:

– You will only make use of a few kinds of vegetables. If this is the case, I suggest taking the $30/week you might spend on the CSA and heading to the farmer’s market, farm stand, or orchard. You are still supporting local farmers, though not giving them the cash before harvest.

– Your schedule is hectic and sawdust-crust frozen pizza usually sounds better than veggies.

– You live by yourself and don’t have folks in mind who would like your extra veggies, or who could share a meal with you.

– You live far away from the pickup location, or have to move.

– You’re going to waste food. (If there are, like, four pieces of penne left from our dinner, I’ll save them. So some weeks it depressed me that I never had time to look up a recipe, and thus kale become a pasty mush in the fridge.)

As farmers harvest the last CSA vegetables of the season right now, I am thankful to have purchased a share in local farms this summer. I’m unsure whether I’ll do it next year, though the bleak season to come may leave me craving freshness. Whatever happens, I am glad to have participated in a CSA this summer because I found new levels of trust in the city and in myself. I also learned that there are vegetables the color of newts I used to catch in the summer, back when I was far more in touch with the land.

Interested in CSAs? Check out Local Harvest to get started.

Rebecca Tirrell Talbot

Rebecca Tirrell Talbot

Rebecca Tirrell Talbot lives in Chicago, where she teaches writing courses and works in the Writing Center at North Park University. <br /><br />