Local Food

A Field report

A Sausage Has Two asausagehastwo.com

As a food lover moving from London, England, to the spa town of Wiesbaden, Germany, in 2010, I knew I’d be facing changes in the way I shopped and ate. I was leaving familiar ingredients behind and facing a fascinating new world of German products. But I had no idea I was about to transform the way I consume food.

I’m not, as stereotypes might dictate, living off pork and beer. I’m actually eating more healthily than ever before. I’ve always cooked from scratch and avoided processed goods, but I now use fresher, higher quality products and experiment with interesting ingredients, from rainbow chard to ox tongue, and adore my weekly shop. How? By shopping for locally-produced food.

The concept of eating locally is hardly a new one, but as a global trend, it’s recently gained momentum. On a fundamental level, the local food movement promotes the benefits and value of consuming locally-produced food, but as a basic premise it’s not quite as straightforward as it sounds.

To begin with, how to define ‘local’? To most people it means purchasing food that has been produced as close as possible to home. Yet just because you buy a chicken that’s been reared 10km away it doesn’t mean it hasn’t been farmed intensively on an industrial scale, pumped full of growth hormones and antibiotics and done a 500km round trip to be packaged for sale. In fact, in Germany, in fact, that’s not unlikely: this is a country with a very bad reputation for its mass production of meat. So the notion of eating locally isn’t just about distance; it also incorporates the ethical ideals of sustainability and social responsibility. And with these come wide-ranging, multifaceted implications for health, society, politics, economy and the environment.

I don’t believe an exclusively local food system would be a sustainable one (what would happen to the people of Colombia if we all stopped eating bananas?). I believe a sustainable food system should incorporate trading food fairly across the globe. But the benefits of creating and expanding local food systems are clear: less energy is used for transportation, less water and land pollution created than by industrial farming, local economies are supported and produce is fresher, tastier and better for our health. But I’m going to be honest, these aren’t the reasons I choose to eat locally. When I started, I didn’t even know I was joining a movement. For me, eating locally is simply a source of great pleasure.

Back in London in 2010, food shopping was a dull routine, with the odd exception, I bought everything at the supermarket. The range of fresh fruit and vegetables was limited. I could purchase Spanish strawberries in December, but they didn’t taste of much; I could buy an apple flown in from South Africa, but it was impossible to find an English one. Meat was confusingly labelled. But who trusts labels anyway when a chicken shipped in from Thailand and then processed in Great Britain could be legally defined as British (this law has since changed). So I never felt entirely confident about the provenance of the food I was consuming. Things have changed greatly there in the last 5 years, but on my return visits I do find it shocking to see fresh seasonal products available all year round.

Here in Wiesbaden in 2015, my shopping routine couldn’t be more different. I still shop at supermarkets, but I pick up the majority of my fresh produce – seasonal fruit and vegetables as well as meat, poultry and eggs - at the farmers’ market. Much of what’s available there – peppers, tomatoes, out of season berries – is imported from the rest of Europe, but I choose only what I know has been grown close to home. (I get ingredients such as aubergines, rice and chocolate from elsewhere). I love knowing where my food comes from and I love rediscovering ingredients, from pumpkins to plums, as the seasons change. The strawberries I gorge on each summer are the sweetest and juiciest I’ve ever tasted, and we celebrate Easter every year with lamb reared in the hills I can see from home. We sometimes make excursions to nearby vineyards to stock up on wine; it’s a lot more fun to pick it up from the vintner who produced it than pluck it from a supermarket shelf. I also love shopping for food locally, not just at the market but in independent shops, too, because it’s such a sociable experience. I’ve got to know (and trust) the folk I buy my food from, chat with other customers whilst I queue, and where I wouldn’t meet up with friends at the supermarket, love ambling around market stalls with a companion.

I’m lucky, of course, I live in a town surrounded by vineyards and orchards and can shop for fresh local produce in a market square a ten minute walk from home. But I’ve learned it’s possible to support local food systems in other ways so when we move from here, I can continue to do so. It’s easy to find out what’s in season, buy meat from a butcher or fresh vegetables from a grocer, sign up for an organic vegetable delivery or grow herbs on a windowsill. I may have joined the local food movement unknowingly, but it’s not a way of life I’d now willingly give up.