On the first day of Christmas my CSA gave to me
a big fat, massive celeriac…
Overheard at the Beans and Screens coffee place in Hadley, where two women were sitting at a small table (one of them, "the friend," was bent over a laptop):
Woman:? So I'm like, "What do you want for Christmas?" and he's like "What do you think?" and I'm like, "Well, how do I know?" and he's like, "You should know," and I'm like, to myself, "Oh, my God, how am I going to pay for this?"
Friend: Just use a credit card. Don't freak out.
Woman: But, they're like way maxed out…
Friend: Dude, just use a card from a bank that's going down… wait a second. Let me Google "bank and bankruptcy." Here's one: Bank of America.
Woman: I don't have that one.
Friend: You can probably get it still, I am so sure.
Woman: For this present… for this guy, I need cash.
Friend: What does the dude want?
Woman: He wants a winter CSA.
Friend: Wow, high maintenance. Better get a job.
On the second day of Christmas my CSA gave to me
two lovely parsnips and a big fat massive celeriac....
This time of year an interesting, thoughtful gift might be a CSA membership. As loyal locavores know, the CSA business model is one where money is paid up front for a share in a farm. Shareholders reap the benefits of their investment throughout the season.
The nice part of all this is that you shop in a barn, learn the names of new legumes, discuss the pros and cons of post-frost root vegetables, chill in the sorting room and soak up the local terroir. The CSA phenomenon has taken off big time and goes beyond fresh fruits and produce. Now one can join a lobster-only CSA in Maine, and a grain-only CSA and a winter-only CSA here in the Valley.
On the third day of Christmas my CSA gave to me
three Mutsu apples, two lovely parsnips and a big fat massive celeriac….
If you play your cards right, you can be eating locally all year. Because we're talking farmed food rather than store food, where units of comestibles are standardized for easier consumption, the inventory can be somewhat erratic. Eating out of the dirt year round is a new and challenging experience.
On the fourth day of Christmas my CSA gave to me four heads of garlic, three Mutsu apples, two lovely parsnips and a big fat massive celeriac….
Stores have lights in the parking lot, Muzak and myriad foodstuffs, and they seem to be open constantly. The winter CSA presents a different approach to the shopping experience. There is lots of mud in the parking lot; inside the barn it can be cold; and the fluorescent lighting is unflattering.
Sometimes they have what you're expecting and sometimes they don't. Who knows if there will be enough grapefruit from Florida on the day the farmer has rented space on the truck coming up North? Who knows when they'll be giving out extra onions so you can use them for soup? Who knows when hot beverages will be shared, on the house? Will you get arugula picked that morning like you got last week?
On the fifth day of Christmas my CSA gave to me five golden potatoes, four heads of garlic, three Mutsu apples, two lovely parsnips and a big fat massive celeriac….
This approach to eating is as far from the credit crunch as you can get. No solid credit background is necessary to join. You just pony up a couple of hundred bucks before the season and pick up the food every week. It's particularly fun here in New England, where the CSA could be a crap shoot but is mostly a cornucopia of very good food.? Food store Muzak can be substituted with carols. Ours comes to you together with best wishes for a holiday feast of foods grown locally."
On the twelfth day of Christmas, my CSA gave to me
twelve cups of eggnog, eleven spears of arugula, ten carrots a-leaping, nine Russian kale leaves, salad greens for eight of us, seven Southern pecans, six fabulous cranberries, five golden potatoes, four heads of garlic, three Mutsu apples, two lovely parsnips and a big, fat massive celeriac….
