Local Cuisine

I hate the stereotype, but let's face it. I'm the stereotypical hippie/eco/blogging mom. In a very attractive package, I must say.
Ahem.

However, since I've moved back with the less hippie/eco/blogging grandparents, I have become lax in my ways in a variety of areas. Will you believe that I haven't recycled a single thing since mid-June? Okay, that's definitely not true, but it's pretty close. There isn't a designated recycling bin here. No joke. My blood pressure is surely at least a gazillion points higher with that fact alone.

I pride myself on sourcing local food for the Hud-man and myself. Organic, when possible, but according to my years of research local trumps organic by a sheer smidge. Food systems are an important issue, mmkay? (Here is where you nod in agreement.) Our fridge and cabinets are normally stocked with items such as this:


locally produced milk.

Anyhoo, this whole new, full-time big girl job thing I have complained about mentioned? Yeah, it has put a major crimp in my hippie mom ways. The local farmers market is Mondays from 4-6. Do you know what time I return to our handsome villa from aforementioned life sucking employment job? Yep, 6 p.m. We have been void of actual fresh produce for like, three weeks now. THREE WEEKS.

Excuse me. I get a little excited about these things.

But you know what? I recently did this one thing that makes me especially not so proud about my saving-the-world efforts. I purchased this


with the full intention of feeding it to my oh-so-adorable and pesticide-free toddler. In fact, I purchased FOUR since they were on sale.
Sobsobsobsobsob. OHHH the MOM GUILT!

Oh right--I'm still going to feed them to him. Why, you ask? Why would I even dare to microwave pesticide and hormone-laden, mechanically-separated meat and genetically-mutilated, flavorless, nutrient-deficient excuses for vegetables in addition to an obesity-causing, high fructose corn syrup-filled dessert in an endocrine-disrupting and environment-flushing plastic tray? Cuz I feel like it, that's why.

Or more accurately, I don't feel like it. I'm giving myself a tiny break from the extra stressors of chemical-reduced living in order to adjust to my new schedule and decreased lounging time. The last thing I want to do when I get home from my zombifying commute is chop veggies and wait for water to boil.
I'm not saying it's Swanson and Banquet from here on out, but the thought of a quick meal from the freezer won't send me into hyperventilation.

I have, however, found one uplifting aspect of this whole Kid Cuisine mini-ordeal: I have a friend in Missouri who used to work in a factory that stamped those (endocrine-disrupting) plastic trays. Which meeaaaannnns:

LOCAL FOOD!

Question my logic, I dare ya.