The Food Ark

Our friend Stephen arrived from Bonita Springs this week - armed with a National Geographic for me with a feature called the Food Ark on heritage seeds and breeds. His inspiration for toting the article came to him after I had asked him to pick up a couple of geese for me on his drive up from Florida. Frankly I was surprised when he said yes, then I learned why when I contacted him with the pickup information.

I texted him the address, adding that I could meet him in Atlanta to pick up the geese since he planned to stop at his sisters for the night.

His text came back..."Wait a second...are these processed geese or livestock?"

My response was simply, "Livestock, of course, some heritage Cotton Patch goslings I have been searching out."

He quickly replied, "You must be crazy. Not in my car. I thought it was foie gras."

And there you have it. I was treated only to the arrival of the National Geographic article and a bewildered friend who simply laughed when he met me at our little one-acre downtown "farm" and culinary center where I was playing with my chickens.

His only reaction was, "What happened to you?"

Anyway, back to the article. It's not about heritage geese or chickens, but it all relates. And oddly enough it truly supports the mission I have found myself focused on, which is preserving the Appalachian and southern Agri-CULTURAL aspects of the area where we live, work and plan to retire.

The National Geographic article is about the impending food crisis we face if the world does not start to take note and focus on local production and harvesting. One of the blessings I have had in my life is moving to the mountains and becoming so focused on the production of food - it was a strange and fast evolution. While I have always adored food - and the gourmet, specialty world is my journalistic training - not many of my friends or family would have imagined me digging in the dirt for potatoes or experiencing giddy pride of hatching 10 of 11 orphaned chicken eggs found on our property.

But what happened was a strange life-altering shift in priorities for me when we moved to the Blue Ridge mountains. First of all, I figured everyone up here grew their own produce and kept chickens and livestock and there would be a wealth of farms for us to gather product from for our restaurant. I imagined a staff of - perhaps not culinary world focused folks - but people who knew real ingredients that Danny could pass on his culinary genius to and simply drift off into a world of fabulous ingredients and simple living.

Alas, one of the first young women we had in the kitchen with a few years of culinary experience who "ran" a kitchen for another local restaurant, well she could not find an eggplant when sent to the walk-in to retrieve it...because she did not know what an eggplant looked like. And that is where the journey began....more to come!