Uniquely Wonderful

This Sunday will be a strange one at market—the kickoff of the main season yet many vendors absent due to the Easter holiday. I get it. If we all celebrated each other’s religious holidays throughout the year nothing would ever get done. People, be they vendors or patrons, have every right to observe the traditions of their faith without impunity. After all, that’s one of the guiding principles on the founding of this country.

In addition to our calendars and houses of worship, no where are our holidays more evident than in our kitchens and at the family table.

With customers from over sixty different countries since I began my journey farming and selling at farmers markets, I’ve had many unusual requests over the years, learning about foods that are traditional for some and exotic for others. I tell people I’ve become polytheistic as I celebrate all my customers’ holidays regardless of culture, faith, or ethnicity.

A melting pot of customers end up at the farmers markets looking for traditional foods that the American industrial grocery industry has ignored. Only when an enclave warrants a chain or big box carrying more than the token international foods isle might I find plantains in the produce section or masa beside the cornmeal and bread flour. Otherwise, it’s a trip to a specialty store.

But last Sunday I had an encounter with a gentleman and his daughter that led me to realize this phenomenon has infiltrated even the paradigm of stereotypical Americans who are losing their choices as to what foods they want to cook and eat.

The pair requested a large seven-bone chuck roast. No, there are not seven bones in the crosscut center cut of the shoulder roast. Instead, the bone is shaped like the number seven. Over the years I’ve ended up eating a lot of chuck roast because they’re not a good seller at market. First, they’re big. One of my long-time regulars wanted a one-pound chuck roast. My butcher and inspectors called that a steak, telling me a roast can’t be that small.  Instead of fighting them I had it all turned into ground.

But with families cooking at home more during the pandemic I opted for chuck roasts. What’s the worst that could happen? I would eat well if they didn’t sell.

“Oh thank you!” They exclaimed and I cautiously stated the large size of the roast, well over the two-pound limit I’d stuck to outside of premium holiday cuts. They’d braved store after store in search of this particular cut and the farmers market was their last hope. It was for their grandmother’s recipe which specifically called for this particular cut of meat. After the last year we’ve all had I could see in their faces, hear in their voices just how important it was for them to be able to follow the recipe exactly.

I haven’t shopped for meat in a grocery store for thirty years. Occasionally I’ll cruise the meat case at local grocers and boutique butcher shops to check out prices, cuts, and quality, but it’s mainly a passing browse instead of an in-depth investigation. I had no idea that once common cuts are becoming rare giving way to modern goods that reflect smaller households and quicker cooking methods. Gadgets like Instapots and air fryers eluded me.  Meals for six, eight, even ten people are no longer the norm unlike Sunday dinners at my own grandparents’ home which would include their two children, their spouses, and several grandkids. Pappy made the best mashed potatoes from scratch.

So much of the food industry has been automated and pre-packaged, now more than ever. I wonder if people turn to these options because they no longer have the raw ingredients for the simplest of recipes. Grandma was no dummy. She knew having a bone in her roast meant more flavor, the transfer of minerals and micronutrients. But retailers look at that same bone and think equipment for cutting, packaging, lower price point.

This spring holiday season it doesn’t matter if you’re serving lamb, ham, matzoh or pakora, it all begins with a farmer. Throughout the pandemic many people have discovered how participating in their foodshed can help to ensure food security when there are interruptions in national supply and distribution. But go one step further and realize all the ingredients you are able to source when you shop directly with the producer. Rarely does a week go by when I’m not privy to someone squealing with delight at finding something you never see anymore. Delicious and nutritious locally produced foods bring people to the markets, but I think that being able to procure foods that can no longer be found in stores is what brings shoppers back time and time again.