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Let’s start today’s post with a retraction of a statement from yesterday:
What I like about these shapes – considerably more than the circle is that we’re cutting out a lot of driving from opposite directions. For example, the half-circle has a maximum driving distance between two farms as 141-miles. The 100-mile circle has a 200-mile distance between the two furthest farms.
I sat up in bed at just after midnight last night. I had confused radius and diameter. The truth is that the furthest distance between two farms in the 141-mile half-moon is 242 miles. This isn’t all bad news though – there are only 2 farms this far away from each other (the bottom of the half-moons) while every other farm on the perimeter is closer than that distance )while the entire perimeter of the 100-mile circle has all farms at maximum distance). The further you go in one direction, the least likely you are to need to go in an other (in theory) so there is further positive impact by choosing a shape like a half-circle over the full.
Today’s exploration is to examine the impact of changing our 100-mile circle into a square. I found it wildly surprising to realize that a 100-mile circle covered 31,416 square miles. It made not eating locally sound illogical (geographically speaking only).
The difficulty with a circle is that there is so much food at the extremity of its area (50% of the food comes from the 25% of the area that is furthest from us) that a circle could actually encourage us to buy from further away. By forcing ourselves to a square that would fit inside that circle we could still benefit from food from that distance – selectively.
Let’s take a look at the visual before examining the math:
This is part 4 of a series of re-imagining the 100-mile diet – both by combining philosophical approaches and good old math and geography. We’re taking the measurement very literally and reapplying it in several different ways – not because we think the measurement should be so literal, but to provide food for thought. We really hope you’ll join the discussion that’s going on in the comments or on our facebook page. Every comment between in either place between now and January 13th (5PM EST) will be considered a ballot to win a copy of Keeping Chicken’s with Ashley English.
Time for a quick recap:
We’re exploring imaging different takes on what “100 miles” would mean as a way of exploring local. We don’t intend to live this literally – and we don’t.
We’re hoping by exploring the literal geography as a means to promote conversation, thought and discussion around defining the version of local – that works for our house.
We’ve tackled different diameters, fighting with the border and the lake.
A 100-mile diameter circle is 200 miles across; something that is likely obvious but an important piece of this discussion.
We’re taking a look at reapplying the math. A 100-mile circle has an area of 31,415.93 square miles.
The outside of a circle carries far more area than the inside. The outer 25% covers 50% of its area.
For today, we’ll start modifying the shape – namely carving pieces of the pie out. We’re going to look at 3 different cuts of the pie.
If we decided to use a “half-moon” – and keep the area consistent, we could increase the diameter of the circle. A 141-mile diameter half-circle has the same area as a 100-mile full circle.
This now includes Lake Huron, Picton and much more hunt-able land if one is so inclined. Read more
This is part 3 of a series of re-imagining the 100-mile diet – both by combining philosophical approaches and good old math and geography. We’re taking the measurement very literally and reapplying it in several different ways – not because we think the measurement should be so literal, but to provide food for thought. We really hope you’ll join the discussion that’s going on in the comments or on our facebook page. Every comment between in either place between now and January 13th (5PM EST) will be considered a ballot to win a copy of Keeping Chicken’s with Ashley English.
We identified that the border is problematic for some eating locally in yesterday’s post. Erin made a great comment in the original article that she lives in Niagara (very close to the border) and that local easily included the other side of the border. I imagine that the closer one lives to the border, the less relevant it is in terms of “local.” I wish that the produce we bought was more specific in where it was grown in the US; but it doesn’t and there aren’t any American farmers that I know of who are offering their goods for sale in Toronto as local so it’s a non-issue for us.
Our second problem becomes the Lake. We’re going to offer a few ways of accommodating for this large body of water which is, by most determination, non-edible. I remember eating some of the fish from the Lake as a child but as I grew older this became less advisable. I am sure people eat from it now but it’s not a significant contributor to our food patterns.
The first thought is just to consider it a penalty. This, in theory, would provide motivation to try to fix the problem and make the lake a sustainable source of food for future generations.
The next option is to take a similar approach to yesterday (apologies that my circle is a little skewed here – it’s fairly close but not bang-on today):
It’s pretty stunning to me to look at the circle drawn like this and realize just how much of our food is lost.
This is part 2 of a series of re-imagining the 100-mile diet – both by combining philosophical approaches and good old math and geography. We really hope you’ll join the discussion that’s going on in the comments or on our facebook page. Every comment between in either place between now and January 13th (5PM EST) will be considered a ballot to win a copy of Keeping Chicken’s with Ashley English.
We explored the difference between measuring 100 miles as circumference and then as radius yesterday. General consensus seems to be that 100 miles is as much an idea and a guideline and we’ll take that as an assumption even though we’re going to dissect the 100 miles several different ways over the coming days. These posts will use the 100 miles diameter (Option 1, 200 miles across) as a measure for these posts. As review, a 100-mile diameter produces a geographic area of 31,415.93 square miles.
The geography of Toronto is a fascinating study for this discussion. There are 2 countries and 3 bodies of water in our immediate vicinity.
A lot of comments identified local as being provincial or national. It is fascinating to me that local is country specific. If we lived right on the border of the two countries, our 100 mile options would be cut in half. If Canada ever bought the United States – or vice versa - our local eating options would dramatically increase. I’m not casting judgement, just making observation.
Nationalism or not, the food from the US that would be local to us is very difficult for most of us to access. “Made in the USA” is generally the extent of a label in the grocery store and I don’t know of a single farmer driving CSA shares from South of the border to Toronto (I do however know of people who live in Cornwall and buy “local” produce from small farmers on the other side of the border). So, for the purpose of discussion, let’s assume the food in the US is off-limits:
10-20% of our circle is in the USA. It’s a tough percentage to lose as there’s a lot of fertile farm land in that area.
In today’s post we launch a new series of posts, relaunch our Facebook Page and announce a contest for an autographed copy of Keeping Chicken’s with Ashley English. We’ll start with the post and the new series as I believe that’s what most of you are here for.
To see all of the posts in this series, click here. Be sure to check the comments out as well since many of them are blog posts in their own right – complete with maps, tools, resources and eloquent food for thought.
Re-Imagining 100-Miles Dana and I went to High School together. We never dated – we were simply friends through those years, college and as we both started our careers. There’s not much from those times that relates to this post except for the fact that we’d both gleefully share that we were computer lab partners and Dana teased me (as a friend, not a bully) for being clever with computers.
She would call me Einstein.
I’m rather proud of being a geek and, despite struggling with school, I really am a geek. And the next series of posts are going to reflect that.
I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about the 100-Mile diet lately. We aren’t nearly entirely local although we love many of the ideals of being so. I also know that the idea is not necessarily to be taken literally (it always did make me chuckle in a good way that a couple of Canadians Championed an Imperial measurement for local). But I do like to think about these things and how they could be useful in our house. I also like to create maps, formulas and spreadsheets to represent a lot of the ideas that are locked in my head.
Over the next few days I want to share posts that are not meant to attack the 100-Mile Ideal. I would love to start some conversations and let each draw their own conclusions. I also have some ideas on how we might imagine – and re-imagine the 100-mile measurement that seems very straightforward. I’ll worry about the math but I’ll share the calculations for those who are interested. For those scared of math, we’ll use a lot of visuals.
For today’s post, let’s examine the basics of how to measure the 100 mile diet from the spot you are sitting.
Option 1 – 100 Mile Radius
Find yourself on a map, draw a dot 100 miles from your current position. This represents a 100-mile radius (the distance from you to the outside of the circle). Draw a circle that uses your position as the center and the outside are 100 miles from the center. This is the way the most of the websites and articles I’ve read does so.
The irony of this option is that your circle is actually 200 miles across. Most food does not come from a single source so if you are getting veggies from a farm that’s 100 miles north and fruit from one that’s 100 miles south, your dinner has travelled 100 miles twice. This may sound like silly symantecs, but the impact is profound as will be explained later.
Option 2 – 50 Mile Radius
Draw a circle that’s 50 miles from where you sit. This one is 100 miles across (with you in the middle point). If you live in a large city, with a large geographic center, this can be very restrictive.
Comparing Areas
Ultimately, food is not grown in a line – it takes space to grow (regardless of how far it travels). Of course a larger area provides more food options – it also creates options for your food to take longer and drive further to get to you.
It’s important to note that in the options above the radius doubled – but the area and potential transport swelled by far more than 2. I had to use Google to remember that the area of a circle = Pi (3.14) * Radius * Radius (Pie-R-Squared). A circle with a 1-inch diameter has an area of 3.14 square inches while a 2 inch diameter creates a diameter of over 12.5 inches.
A circle with a diameter of 100 miles (option 1) has an area of 31,415.93 square miles. Option 2 has an area of 7,853.98 – half the diameter equals 4 times less area.
The image below is to scale and shows that despite having half the diameter, on circle is far larger than the other:
It is officially winter. Colder than what seems polite, snowier than seems right and sloppy beyond belief. Going out is a struggle – even if it`s just to let the dog smell the open air and breathing burns your lungs within seconds of being outside.
On top of such winter delights our doors have begun to freeze – making leaving or arriving a physical challenge. Such a challenge saw me having to walk around the block twice today to get in – then out of the house.
These things aren`t exactly the features of living in the northern climes although they do add a cozy charm to your house which just seems to lack through the summer months. Just like the smell of a slow-roasting dinner shocks your nose as enter your house, the warmth of your home washes over your every sense as you enter the physical – and metaphorical – warmth of your house.
Seasonality of food also takes on a twist that adds a charm to dishes that aren`t there other times of year. The thought of a fresh green salad is less than exciting compared to a hearty bowl of soup or anything in the slow cooker. I can`t imagine eating a split pea soup in the middle of summer or enjoying warmed cider with a kiss of brandy. The same cold that burns the lungs welcomes the warmth of these dishes in a way that can`t be repeated in the summer when such heat doesn`t bring such instant comfort. The bitter cold adds a certain delight to dishes that can appear less than magical any other time of year.
My Father spent 6 or 7 years (maybe more) in the Southern States through the winter in the 1960`s. He didn`t see the changing of the seasons through most of this cold. He has told me that it was a novelty at first but eventually the lack of the seasons was one of the things tat drove him back to the North. I suppose in some ways, I owe my existence to the lure of the bitter cold – and the tables that greet it.
It is the morning of November 23, 2010. I don’t know the time.
I know that it’s 4:40AM back in Toronto but I left there about 10 hours ago. I’m in Glasgow, Scotland and it’s either 8:40 or 9:40 – an important difference as my first meeting is at 10:00AM. It’s going to be a long day.
I am comforted by a coffee though it’s not quite familiar. Scottish Coffee (like most in the Europe) is rarely drip – this tastes like a single Americano in a big cup. It reminds me of the powdered hot chocolate I drank when growing up; the first sp is pure delight before giving away to something that reminds you of what the beverage really should taste like.
Coffee is fascinating to me, especially as someone who loves the ideal of local, especially when food is produced by hands of people I know. I’m not militant and coffee is such an example.
The first taste found me reflecting on how far the coffee had travelled – and, in fact, how far I have in the last half day. I have crossed the world and these beans have come just as far yet they are no closer to where they were produced than if they had been shipped to my home. It would be fascinating to see the projections of the amount of shipping routes these beans travel across our planet in a year.
Ordering coffee here is quite the ordeal – I don’t know how to explain that I want a coffee with milk or cream and sugar. The simple request almost became a latte and I further confused things by specifying cream. It appears they only have milk here – although the milk is far thicker than we would call it at home. The idea of milk/ cream in a coffee was so foreign that I actually received a small glass of it on the side of my coffee (more than a quarter cup).
Toronto is a city built on caffeine. If New Zealand has 60 sheep for every resident, our fine city must have a dozen doughnuts for each. Coffee is never more than a few blocks away and is available 24 hours a day.
Knowing that I have a lot of long work nights ahead on this trip, I asked if my hotel room had a coffee maker. I was told it didn’t but that would hardly be necessary as the local coffee shop had extended it’s hours and I would be able to get coffee at any time of day I needed it – as long as it was before 7:00PM (the thought of drinking it after then is not even a consideration).
I’m an odd coffee drinker – most workdays include 2 large cups while many weekends will pass without a drop and I’ll easily skip it altogether when on vacation. I’m thinking that ability may come in handy this week…
We often get asked about eating locally through the winter; we are not 100% local eaters though we do try to stay seasonal and when it makes sense for us to buy local we do so. I know there is very little scientific proof to support my rationale that food grown by people you know tastes better than that made by those you can’t trace but I chose to suspend logic and simply believe that’s true.
Large retailers do a better job than ever with Canadian produce but finding truly local can be difficult finding local food in our city. We learned last year that by mid-winter things like squash, onions, carrots and even potatoes are difficult to come by. If only we had a cold cellar…
The Stop has a great winter market at Wychwood Barns which is open every Saturday morning (year round) and features the food of farmers from around the GTA. The difficulty for us is the distance that Wychwood is from home – it’s a lovely place that’s nearly full across the city. We still make it out there every 4-6 weeks and I truly adore it when I can – weekly grocery trips are out of the Question for us.
Appletree Market (Yonge and Eglington) also has a bi-weekly Winter Market and Dufferin Grove goes through the winter as well. These are also further treks for us.
The Brickworks has announced a new winter market for this year that’s much closer and I’ll be excited to check out as well.
I’m thrilled to share that Kawartha Ecological Growers is continuing it’s winter CSA program from last year. We’ve been members through the summer and been supporters/ friends for the last few years.
The program is straightforward:
Each share is picked up once every two weeks.
The program runs from the start of January through mid-may (20 weeks)
Each pickup includes $35 of chosen product and $25 of credit that you can choose to your liking.
Selections include 14 different types of potatoes, different types of squash, parsnips, carrots, beets, onions, celeriac, and a tonne of veggies including late and early season kale, baby greens, sprouts, dried beans, preserves, flour, maple syrup, and meats (including duck, goat, pork, lamb and more) that are from the CoOperative.
There are 3 pick-up locations (Univeristy of Toronto, Ceili Cottage in the East and the AppleTree Market (Yonge and Eglington) in the winter. There’s more detail here(scroll down for or email Shannon for more info (she’s super friendly). We’ve had an amazing growing season in Southern Ontario this year and I’m hoping the cellars of KEG will help augment our eating through the winter.
There’s only 150 shares, so let them know soon if you are planning on joining (we’ve jumped on ours). If you’re picking up at Leslieville, let us know; would be fun to have a mid-winter pint with a few ‘digital friends.’
If you have a winter market or CSA that you wish to bring awareness to, feel free to add to the discussion in the comments below (no matter where your “local” is).
We are on a small road trip visiting family this weekend. We’re not far from home in Lindsay, Ontario.
These weekends are gaining some traditions – this is our third or fourth time going for a walk on Saturday morning and visiting the local farmer’s market. I’m beginning to find my favourite stalls – including a local purveyor of homemade hot sauce. It’s a lot of fun to visit markets that you don’t normally go to – even more to have an air of familiarity that was built on memories of food, community and family.
We had our first corn of the year, which is always exciting to me. It’s a few weeks early – especially to be tasting as good as it is. It’s difficult for me to eat corn and not think of my Father who I believe could (and would) still live on the stuff year round if it tasted like it does in the summer heat of August.
As a child, corn was a simple conduit to flood my taste buds with the exciting flavor combination of butter and salt. As I grew older I went through several other flavor phases including a tonne of pepper, no salt and eventually just the naked cob. In the last year or two I’ve gone back to a conservative measure of butter, salt and pepper.
Many cooking shows have featured a South American treatment of corn that I hadn’t tried before; lime and chili powder. I had been meaning to try the combination for a long time – especially spurred on by the connection of South American cuisine to corn and spice.
I used a quarter of a lime per cob. In retrospect I would use half pieces next time. Start by squeezing the lemon on the cob and when all juices are removed, rub the remaining lime directly onto the kernels. We had chili in a bowl – having it in a shaker would have made it significantly easier.
The taste was bright; it’s simply the best way I can describe it. There was an early morning freshness to the corn which followed by a dark earthiness of the chili. The chili lost a lot of heat between the citrus and the explosion of corn popping into my mouth.
It was an interesting experience and I had all 3 cobs the same way. I will definitely repeat it – though not every time. Much like adding a tonne of butter, salt and pepper you may find that the flavor of the corn itself gets lost in the maze of added flavor.
Matching it with a beer with a lime would be even more fantastic…
Perhaps the longest title we`ve ever posted. I`m really fired up this morning.
We do not eat 100% local. I love lobster, crab, and will buy some things out of season (including lettuce). I do adore the sentiment, try to eat as seasonally as possible and prefer the sensibilities of local food where possible.
The local food movement has been under attack from many angles. Food is an emotional topic and the politics of it run deep through many people. False, exaggerated or misleading information is shared from all sides. I try to avoid the arguments and would far rather focus on the positives in my life and on my plate.
I purchased9 pints of local strawberries yesterday for $7.11 (taxes included) from a retail store. The berries were a day old and had to be sold on discount as their quality drops quickly and the store receives a daily shipment from a local farm (one that I`ve gone to for 30 years). At $0.79 a pint they are much more affordable than the $3.79 for todays berries.
While lining up to pay, the woman in front of me was looking at my box of berries with wonder. I noticed she had 2 pints of strawberry-like product (ok they were `real`strawberries) from California. I live 4,364 km (2,700 miles) from where her strawberries are shipped. Her 2 pints were $7.00 plus tax ($0.30 cheaper than local berries).
If berries that are shipped 8 km to the store lose almost all value in 24 hours, what the heck are we consuming when it comes from the other corner of the continent… The most amazing thing about those berries is how strong they are to withstand the shipping and handling that they do.
I had the privledge of listening to Chef Thomas Keller speak this year and the experience continues to resontae with me. When a woman stated that she wanted blueberries in the winter, he smiled, looked at her and simply stated `but you can`t` (Keller is a massive fan of quality and local is not a mandate of his).
In a few weeks I will not be able to buy local strawberries and that will be the end of my strawberry consumption for a year. Call that local if you wish; for me it feels like the only option. And, for that, I`m excited!
