I recently celebrated a milestone birthday with two of my best friends. We marked the occasion in the über posh Napa Valley in northern California; a region known for its wineries, resorts and fine dining and therefore a playground for the wealthy.
Now, I come from hard-working, middle class, self-denying northern European stock and at first I found myself squirming with discomfort precisely because of the effort these places made to make me comfortable. I am not used to the creature comforts of the affluent. The refinement of everything seemed so over-the-top and prevalent that it was overwhelming. But, after much effort, I eventually gave myself to the extravagance and decided that it was GLORIOUS!
How did I find myself enjoying things like truffle-dusted goat cheese and purée of celery? I am fortunate to have befriended two outstanding individuals “way back when” who have done quite well for themselves by the sweat of their brains.
One, a surgeon at a prestigious medical institution who is as beautiful inside and out as she is exceptionally talented, intelligent and charming to rise to the top of a male-dominated, cutthroat field. And the second, a man who has built a business thanks to his unshakeable integrity, tenacity and sense of humor whose moral strength is as impressive as his 6’5”ft frame.
Beyond my understanding these two chose to combine their assets to be my benefactors knowing, despite my extraordinary ability to squeeze blood out of my AmeriCorps stipend, I wouldn’t be able to keep up with their refined appetites.
When we got there I didn’t say a word about the accommodations except for a resounding and contented sigh. However, when it came to food I tried to tell them that it wasn’t a big deal with me; that the nuanced flavors were going to be lost on me. But, much to my skepticism, I came to relish all of the subtleties we tasted. By the end of the trip I was spooning caviar into my mouth with a small mother-of-pearl utensil (the only way to eat it, of course!) similar to the tasting spoons at ice cream shops, and a new thought formed: Maybe I’ve never tried to develop a palette for such decadence because I know I simply can’t afford to. After all, true happiness is wanting what one already has, isn’t it? So why tease myself with something I can’t have? But is it actually true that I can’t afford similar quality food?
I couldn’t help myself and asked our waiter where the food we were eating came from (very Portlandia of me). He explained in great detail where every single ingredient originated. I was impressed. They sourced the food they could from local farms and what they couldn’t find nearby they had it same-day delivered from wherever it was grown the best.
If you were to ask most chefs around our towns where they get their ingredients you’d be hard pressed to get anything beyond the name of one of the big one-stop-shop food delivery companies they order from. And obviously they aren’t calling in specialty orders from some farm in Pennsylvania – but we also wouldn’t want them to. One reason our meal that night was so expensive was for the above-and-beyond attention to flawlessness. While it was impressive, it’s not practical and we’re probably not as concerned with absolute perfection on our regular Friday night dinner dates as those who frequent the Napa Valley.
When we left in a haze of satisfaction three hours and nine-plus courses later, we were handed folders with copies of our personalized menus (which I have every intention of framing) along with a glossy-paged book (not booklet, book) featuring profiles of all the farms they “procure” their ingredients from.
If happiness is wanting what we already have I happen to know for a fact that there are a number of small farms dotted around our county (many listed in the 2012 Local Food Guide, our version of a glossy-paged book) which grow ingredients that, in the hands of a skilled chef, would rival any of the ones I enjoyed at that Michelin three-starred restaurant and at prices even a humble volunteer could afford. We shouldn’t think that flavors such as the ones my friends and I dressed to the nines, acted on our best behavior, and paid through the nose for, are only for those who can afford fancy nights out.
If we want to eat the way I did it’s not the food we should snub but rather our inability to recognize its full potential. If you want to eat better here in Columbia County we should start with local ingredients because fresh food wins every time on taste. So, the next time you’re out on the town be sure to ask our neighborhood chefs if they use local ingredients in their dishes (many restaurants in Portland, a notoriously “Foodie” town, already seem to think the food we grow is good enough for them). Or, and this is a novel idea for me, learn how to cook!
Originally Published By: St. Helens Chronicle
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