successful foraging, if you count food-like products

We arrived at camp pretty late last night, a spot Andre had come to for porcinis and hawkswing last fall.  I was too tired for dinner, so we tucked ourselves into Butter. In the morning, we made a nice breakfast and headed into the woods with our knives hoping to hunt down some fungi.  Almost immediately, we stumbled upon our second foraged treat, a bag of cool ranch Doritos, which had been left by the previous campers who probably left that morning.  Moments later, we found our third foraged food, Dr. Pepper, several cans tucked nicely between the rocks to cool off in the river.  I didn’t partake in the Dr. Pepper and Andre dumped it after a few swigs.  A realization—the bounty that our Earth provides is apparently laced with transfats and high-fructose corn syrup.  Go figure.

Donuts, America's favorite treat.

Driving on a mountain road just outside of Mariposa, CA, something big came to me.  The struggles, the beauty, the joy, and the hardships, the process of this journey, is about disconnecting in order to reconnect.  Flow.  Making space in my life, and in my heart, involves disconnecting from the old reality so that I can reconnect with the new.  This book is based on the idea that we need to reconnect with nature, with each other, and with ourselves in hopes of mitigating some of the social problems we have created—climate change, pollution, social injustices, obesity, and perhaps the most important one of all, insecurity.

Insecurity, financial or social, results in psychological problems that reek havoc on creating community—hording, materialism, and depression, just to name a few.  Insecurity determines whether a community is based on communalism or individualism, a corporate-run capitalistic system versus some other ism, or better yet, no isms at all but a system that takes into account the health of this planet and its inhabitants.

Day 1

We left Venice with extra hugs for the road and started to make our way north. Sometime just after dark, we successfully acquired our first foraged food, or food-like product more accurately speaking, from a little gas station outside of some tiny town off the 99.  Behind the storefront window stood a small tower of donuts of various flavors. I jokingly suggested that we get some, and went in to use the bathroom. When I came outside, Andre was digging donuts from the trashcan, and held up three for us to sample.  The store clerk had come out with the day olds, and before Andre could save them, they were tossed in.  We each took a bite of the cinnamon roll, then the red jelly glazed, and finally the chocolate frosted vanilla custard (I took two bites of this one), then chucked them all back in the bin.  Donuts, America’s favorite treat.

Downsizing: Pre-trip preparations

Combined, we are moving from approximately 3,000 sq. ft to roughly 100.  It is a huge change for us both.  I rented my apartment furnished, so thankfully I had only a few personal belongings to either take or pack neatly into a closet reserved for the "landlord." That said, it still took nearly 3 days, with disruptions, of course, for coffee breaks and meals with friends.  Andre, on the other hand, is moving out of his warehouse and into two containers.  We have been at it for a week.  Last night Twyst came by with Evan for dinner and dug up plants from the garden to brighten up his patio.  Ram came around midnight, just after Yoko and I left for a dive.  At 5AM, as sky began shifting from black to pale grey, then blue, I finally climbed into bed.  Peacefully tucked under the cozy down blanket, I fell asleep giggling at the boys, beautiful brothers, saying silly things using silly voices.

Despite the fact that we were scheduled to leave on Tuesday, then Thursday, then today, and now Monday, I am having a lovely time doing what I enjoy most, preparing Butter, our VW Westy, for her upcoming journey. This practice in patience has left me feeling both strong and surprisingly relaxed. I have used the extra time as an opportunity to do few things to ensure that we'll be eating foraged food for the first couple of months of the journey, at least.  If you haven't heard, my goal, and I say MY goal because Andre thinks it's a bit crazy, is to forage all of our food for the next 7 months.  To help make this possible, I decided to make up some care packages that friends have generously offered to mail out upon request.  The packages are filled with foods that we've either foraged from dumpsters, the woods, the garden, our neighborhood, or have been gifted to us by friends.

Thus far, I have made up 4 boxes of food.  Each box contains a well-balaned selection of essential foods that are hard to find in nature--a couple of pounds of brown and jasmine rice, a 5 lb bag of flour, whole wheat pasta, steel-cut oats, canned beans and squash, homemade preserved fruits and jams (blueberries, strawberries, pears, apple butter, cranberry sauce, etc.), homemade pickled chanterelles, a variety of dried mushrooms, raw macadamia nuts, honey, coffee, a nice selection of teas (white, black, green, and herbal), flax oil, chocolate, and soap, as well as a few other random treats like swiss hazelnut cookies, which were actually purchased, gasp, during a recent visit to Switzerland.  We have been diving for months, stocking up on dried and canned goods, and I have spent a lot of time canning fruits that I foraged from my neighborhood and the dumpster.  It never ceases to amaze me the quantity of food that gets trashed, and also the bounty that our neighborhood trees and forests have to offer.  Butter is loaded down with plenty of food for the next month.  Each box contains enough food for a couple of weeks, at least.  Between that food, the wild foods we plan to forage, and the trades we hope to make-- our foraged mushrooms for fancy restaurant dinners and farmers market goodies, and I am very hopeful that we can achieve my goal.  I'm happy to say that Andre doesn't think I'm so crazy anymore... well, at least not for that reason.

dive.

I'm blogging for no other reason than to offload some recent dive notes.  For me, then, this is just an external memory blog.  Perhaps for you, though, it'll be inspiration to feed yourself.  Don't forget to share--those guys on the Venice Boardwalk really need it, for example.  Also, don't take more than your fair share, unless for some reason you think you'll be the last diver of the night.  Lots of people rely on this food.  Finally, don't risk getting the dumpsters locked please, that means going very late at night (after 1AM is best), being quiet, picking up trash (even the trash you didn't spill on the ground), not making a mess in the dumpsters so others can eat the stuff you don't take, and being mindful, conscious, loving, giving, and thankful.

14 pounds of organic blueberries
2 pounds of organic strawberries
4 pounds of organic grapes (mixed green and red)
1 pound of champagne grapes
6 dozen eggs
3 pounds of organic plums
1 pound of figs
25 pounds of bananas (some organic)
4 potatoes
10 pounds of flour (unbleached)
1 bag of cashews
4 pies
lots of junkfood

Reclaiming Hope for Top-Down Social Change

I am a vocal advocate for social change, giving talks, using my classroom as a venue for opening eyes and hearts, creating and hosting events like the Venice Harvest Xchange, and trying to live consciously.  These acts have been focused on individual, grassroots movements, or bottom-up social change. While I talk about the possibility of and need for policy-level, top-down change, I'd nearly given up hope.  Like many others, I find it hard to trust politicians.  That said, I thought I would share some recent experiences that have given me a renewed sense of hope.

Last year, I had dinner with Eric Mar while I was working at Yale. He has been a very vocal advocate for change--perhaps most famous for his proposal to ban toys in happy meals, and taking lots of heat for his idea.  Still, he continues to fight.  I told him about the Food and Flowers Freedom Act that Los Angeles passed in 2010, and he expressed his displeasure for the fact that LA was ahead of San Francisco in terms of a progressive food policy.  Not long after, a similar proposal passed in SF.

I met several policy makers during the LA neighborhood and city council convergence last year, where I was given the opportunity to speak about ways to "green" LA.  I chose to focus on improving the quality of our food system, my favorite topic as of recent. More specifically, I spoke about changing an antiquated policy that requires gardeners to purchase an agricultural permit in order to grow food in parkways (the little strip between your sidewalk and the street).  These permits to grow food can cost upwards of $400, but growing grass, trees, shrubs, and flowers requires no permits and costs nothing.  That's just silly.  What's even more silly, is that the law is actually being enforced. Ron Finley, a friend and Andre's neighbor, has been made an example, being cited, fined, and threatened to have the garden that feeds himself and his neighbors cut down.  Many of the neighborhood council members agreed that change was necessary, but they weren't exactly sure how to make that possible.  Thankfully, Ron has now stopped receiving citations, and while is garden is safe for the moment, the laws still need revising.

I think of California as being the leader for change in the country--many things good flow out of the west.  Last night, I found hope outside of California.  Thanks to my friend Denise, I got to have dinner with Congressman Tim Ryan, author of Mindful Nation.  It's been a while since I've felt like positive social change could come from the top-down, so long that I'd almost given up hope.  This fellow Midwesterner promotes the infusion of mindfulness practice in schools, the armed forces, and the workplace.  He seems genuinely interested in creating policies that foster consciousness and community cohesion.  What a light.

Plans for the foraging adventure have primarily been focused around interviewing people who are working around the system, advocating for change from the bottom-up, living as change agents.  Thanks to last night, and the reminder of my recent interactions with public officials, I am filled with a renewed sense of energy and hope for top-down change. I am curious about those who are trying to change the system from within, so please leave a comment if you have any recommendations for people I might like to meet.

morel bliss

Nature has no landfills... plants grow with the help of nutrients in the soil, animals eat the plants, and insects and bacteria eat and decompose animal dung and animal remains. The decomposed waste nourishes the soil, and the soil helps the plants grow again. An entirely closed-loop system. In modern-day society, though, waste is abundant. 


For almost 2 years, I have been working to reduce waste, one plate at a time. It all began in a sushi restaurant. Richard and I had just sat down, both starving, as a large group sitting next to us paid their bill and left. Their table was full of untouched and partially picked at sushi rolls, tempura, and pieces. Richard grabbed a piece of roll, which at first made me a little uncomfortable. It looked really delicious, but feeling too shy to grab a piece myself, I asked him to get one for me.  A freegan was born.  


I didn't immediately eliminate trips to the market from my list of weekly activities, but I can count on one hand how many times I have needed to go on a major shopping spree in the past year. Between the backyard garden, the mountains, and grocery store dumpsters, I would say that I eat better than most upper-class Americans, and I know the research!  Liberating food from the tyranny of the dumpsters, and the eventual landfill, isn't just about getting free food. I have a good job, after all. For me, I simply cannot tolerate the idea of good food rotting, contributing to the greenhouse gas effect, given the amount of energy, water, human sweat and sometimes love, that went into the creation and production of that food. 


Tonight I made pasta topped with loads of morels sauteed with caramelized onions, garlic, and kale. A completely foraged meal, less the salt, pepper, and oil (although I could have used butter from the trash, but opted for something lighter). Some would call it waste. I would call it delicious.

Unless you've been living in a cave, completely isolated from the rest of society, you've probably heard something about the negative consequences of our current food system. Countless books, magazine and newspaper articles, documentaries, and scientific reports have been written on topics such as Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations, the potential problems associated with the use of Monsanto Round-Up ready chemicals and genetically modified seeds, social injustices and mistreatment of farm workers, diet-related diseases, climate change, etc., etc., etc. I could spend months discussing the perils of modern-day agriculture. In fact, I do. I teach two classes this semester related to food--Best Practices in Sustainability, in which I cover food, water, waste energy, transportation, and building, and other course called Cognition and Food, in which I discuss how cognitive factors influence our choices, in many cases outside of conscious awareness, and the consequences of how we nourish (malnourish is a more appropriate word) our bodies. That's not what I want to write about today, though. I'll spare you the gory details and, instead, present a new paradigm of thought.

First, a quick (hi)story. Farming practices have evolved, and how. We shifted away from manual labor towards machine labor as a means of making hard chores easy. After all, work a day in a field and you'll know, farming is hard, back-breaking, work. This shift freed up time for farmers to devote their lives to family, leisure activities, and other jobs (which brought in more income than farming). At the time, this seemed like a good thing--a really good thing, actually. However, like many of the choices that we make (and I use make, lightly), the transition was not fully conscious, meaning, not mindful of the evolutionary process that would result in a system now referred to as factory farming, or large-scale agribusiness, rather than the farming we'd grown to know and love. Thus, when pondering solutions to the problems created by this shift, we might first ask ourselves, where did the farm go and when did the factory begin? You see, we got here because it was easier than Bubba lifting a bail of hay.

We simplify the world by making hard problems into dichotomies… black, white; farm, factory; good, evil. In ranting about Polyface versus Monsanto, we are still speaking the dialect of good versus evil, us versus the enemy. This dialect is one of war, and in a conscious society, should just be considered silly. So breaking free from that paradigm of thought, shifting away from blame and judgment, is what we need to focus on. Now is the time to change the paradigm. In fact, we need a radical paradigm change, one that embraces and accepts our historical successes and failures, and then moves forward. We do not know what the future will look like, but we do know that we are living in a time that doesn’t work anymore. We cannot continue to live in a world where there is radiation-tainted consciousness.

My focus is on food, for several reasons. First and foremost, food is essential for maintaining human life (it's also delicious). Then, the production of food has massive implications for water quality and preservation, air, transportation, energy, and global health. It’s easy to complain about how problematic our current food system has become. What’s not easy is presenting alternatives. That’s the dialogue I want to open up here; so, let's get started.

Los Angeles has made some pretty radical since I moved here in 2007. For example, in 2010, the City Planning Commission voted unanimously to pass the Food and Flowers Freedom Act, which allows backyard gardeners to sell their goods at farmers markets and restaurants. No special certification process is required. Some of the benefits include increased social networks (now you know your farmer/neighbor), local sustainable job creation (unemployment in LA is more than 13%), better storm-water management (more green space to protect from urban runoff), and higher levels of food security (breaking free from a poisonous food system). In addition, research shows that children (and child-like adults) prefer to consume foods that are familiar, so being exposed to food growing in the neighborhood should transfer to food preferences and choices. Want a kid to eat her vegetables, expose her to them, repeatedly.

As an urban forager, much of my diet comes for free (not factoring in time). I hunt exotic mushrooms, edible wild plants, and have even been known to eat off the plate of attractive strangers who leave tasty treats behind. In the last year, I shifted away from veganism and towards freeganism, partly as a form of civil disobedience. Like me, organizations such as Food Forward and Fallen Fruit both take advantage of the bounty that exists around us. These groups practice gleaning, picking fruit from neighborhood trees that would otherwise fall to the ground and rot. In the case of Food Forward, they donate their harvests to local food banks and shelters. In the case of Fallen Fruit, they provide free maps to tress that grow on or spill over onto public property. In both cases, they are providing fresh food to citizens who would otherwise need to purchase it. Create a map of your own neighborhood and share it, better yet, take your neighbors for a walk and host a community feast!

If you can’t find it or glean it, maybe try swapping it. That’s what my friends and I started doing at what we call the Venice Harvest Xchange. We created a food-swapping club where locals can trade their bounty for things they need or want, a system that is largely free of money and totally under the radar of regulation (just sign up to be a member of our club, and a statement acknowledging your understanding that our food has never been inspected by a government official). At these VHX meetings, "vendors" offer jams and other preserved foods, homemade granola, fresh garden fruits and vegetables, local wild mushrooms, pizza from a wood-burning oven that we built out of dirt, and more recently, clothing, massages, tinctures, essential oils, art, jewelry, and so much more! Club members have no need for permits or a prohibitively expensive commercial kitchen… just trust. Now, how's that for an alternative?

Finally (for today), start your own "Victory Garden" in protest of the war waged by agribusiness against clean water, our right to information and transparency, and affordable healthy food. If you don't have a green thumb, there are plenty of organizations out there to help get you started. On the Westside, for example, we have the Westside Permies, a group of permaculturists and volunteers who convert lawns into food gardens once a year, for free (minus garden supplies unless you qualify for a scholarship). There are a number of other professional groups, such as Farmscape, who will build your garden, maintain it, and even pick the vegetables for you if you'd like. How simple is that?

It is our responsibility to engage in a broad social movement that works towards a culture that holds humanity above profit, where social justice is the rule, not the exception. As in this post, in future posts during my 7-month journey across the country, time spent reconnecting with the land, I hope to present alternative models of eating--living really. Rather than fight the system, we could free ourselves from it. When we decide to walk away from the “us versus them,” “good versus evil” dialectic paradigm and towards one that unites us, working side by side, hand in hand, connected to nature and each other instead of separate, only then will we see change.