About Food and Old Stoves

When I walk to the kitchen in the morning I think about food. I have a 70-year-old Chambers stove that probably nobody else in their right mind would install again. I light the burners with a match and some of the rack holders in the oven are slowly rusting away. l love this stove. It reminds me of home, of the kitchen I grew up in, of my mother. The mother that drives me crazy when she is already planning dinner before she has had breakfast.  Breakfast was planned the night before. I use black clay pots from Colombia on the stovetop. The clay holds the heat and the stew will still be bubbling when I bring it to the table. I have had the same cast iron pan for decades now. 

I think about food, a lot. I think about where it comes from, the ecological impact of growing this food, how it was made, the ingredients, the health benefits and problems with certain foods, and finally how it was prepared. I think of how I consume and prepare food. Because without food we cannot survive and without a healthful diet we cannot be healthy. 

Food comes from farms mostly, but also the oceans and other natural habitats. Climate change and food availability are deeply interconnected. As a farmer, I witness this every day, sometimes lucking out with a few more warm days to harvest tomatoes, but mostly facing increasing challenges and difficulties to grow crops.

I have been rightly accused of being obsessed with reading food labels. I am obsessed and I like to have control over the ingredients that I put in my food. Not just to avoid putting them in my mouth but mostly to avoid supporting agricultural practices that are harmful to the environment. I try to buy local fresh produce, grains, and meats as much as possible (it is not always possible). I do this because without considering mindful and ecologically sustainable farming practices when sourcing our food we cannot have a healthy planet. 

 Looking at a beautiful lavender cabbage image on a seed catalog begins my eating journey for the year. I remember “Sopas Mallorquinas”, a scrumptious dish from Spain that includes cabbage, tomatoes, onions, peppers, and old stale bread to soak up the juices. A crosscut section of a purple carrot with a red core is a thing of beauty. Tomato varieties are tantalizing. From there, I decide what vegetable and fruit plants to grow or not grow and how to lay out the plantings.  I don’t believe in evil or superfoods. Instead, I embrace a super diet that includes lots of produce, without excluding grains, meats, fermented foods, dairy, and other delicious things that are prepared with care.   

It’s not just the food we eat that nourishes our body, but the way the food is prepared. I prepare and can tomato sauce because in the winter it reminds me of summer, and in the fall, it makes my kitchen smell like tomatoes. I like to ferment milk into yogurt and currants into wine.  I freeze ripe bell peppers because I love the taste of them and I can keep eating them all winter. I like to store winter pumpkins and potatoes for a little sense of food security even though I can always go to the store. Sometimes when I am in the garden I get ideas from the look and smell of a fresh herb and dinner will resolve itself around that. I cook with my senses, smelling the good and the bad, feeling textures, weighing and measuring with my hands, cutting with a very sharp knife, choosing a variety of colorful vegetables, and of course, tasting. I crush garlic and sautee onions for inspiration and then light the old oven with a match that once blew up and still works.