The L Word

After much delay, local meat has arrived at the Forkquarters.

The Spoonstress bought a cut of sirloin at the friendly Carrboro Farmer's Market. While the steak being frozen and vacuum sealed dented my idealistic view of local meat, it's probably a good thing. I suppose freezing makes sense if you're at the market all day in 90-degree weather.

The Spoonstress and I have discussed the idea of eating locally and just came across the 100 Mile Diet. While I'm suspicious of any eating plan that ends with the word "diet," I suppose it's de rigeur for marketing purposes. I'm more interested in reading the book that spawned the idea.

We've talked about trying this idea of only eating food produced within, you guessed it, 100 miles of our house. Of course, it's easy to do so in the summer. The meat now thawing in our fridge is from Creedmoor, N.C.--28 miles away. This useful tool allows you to find your local "foodshed."

On another local food note, my basil seeds are sprouting nicely. Can't get much more local than that. While my cilantro isn't doing so well, we're not going to talk about that.

Tonight we'll get to see just how local this meat tastes. But thanks to the placebo effect, it'll be difficult to accurately compare it to supermarket beef. Then again, the local food movement isn't all about taste, right?

Right?

Musical Meats: The Music Hasn't Stopped

I've been racking my brain trying to decide what to feature in my Musical Meats column. The idea is to swap one protein for another in a traditional meat dish. The problem being: I'm looking for a switcheroo that will yield a creation that's a) new, b) tastes good and c) has a catchy name. Pork Pot Pie satisfies all three, but finding others has been difficult.

Trying to incorporate the animal noises into the name was a bad idea. Aside from being a tad morbid, it got a bit corny. As a result, I won't be adapting Beef Bourguignon into Lamb "Baa"guignon.

As I often do, I've been placing too much emphasis on the name. I've been struggling to see if I can make anything to fit the name Duck, Duck, Goose. Or Duck, Duck Mousse. But then I realized that even if geese are mean and poop everywhere, I don't want to eat them. And duck mousse sounds more like a punishment than a treat. As for the idea of Goose Mousse, the less said about that, the better.

A recent write-in suggestion of Pulled Chicken is a solid one. It may be lacking a bit in the newness category, but it has a shot at being really tasty. And I bet I can make something happen with that name (hint: another aliteration).