An old factory is now a gathering place for people and ideas.Last week, I went to Seattle with some of the Nash's Farm Crew for the FARMER-FISHER-CHEF CONNECTION CONFERENCE. The focus was to connect local food producers (farmers, fishers, ranchers, wine makers, cheese makers, chocolatiers, wild food foragers....) to local chefs. Can you imagine such a powerful gathering of folks that love food? Me neither.
We began the day exploring various education booths over a continental breakfast. You're probably imagining overly-sweet sticky buns, lame coffee, and non-dairy creamer. Not here. The whole day was a locavore's delight: Cafe Vita coffee, raw cream from Fresh Breeze Farm, local bagels, jams from Rockport Orchards, Seattle-made nut butters, little quiches made from Nash's flour and root veggies, and freshly made salmon lox. Yeesh.
The most striking part of the day-- aside from the copious culinary delights and food-centric company of folks--was the keynote speaker. Poppy Tooker is a New Orleans-based chef that also serves on the Slow Foods Ark of Taste Board. What is the Ark of Taste?
The US Ark of Taste is a catalog of over 200 delicious foods in danger of extinction. By promoting and eating Ark products we help ensure they remain in production and on our plates.
She said something like, "The taste buds on our tongues are the strings that connect to our hearts and our cultural histories." Food and flavors are such a huge part of our histories. When these flavors are forgotten, so are some of our pasts.
She told the story of "Cala". "Cala" is the traditional West African word for sweet fried rice cakes. Cala became popular in the French Quarter in New Orleans because African women who were slaves in the region, spent each Sunday (their one day off) selling these hot rice cakes in the streets. They exclaimed, "Belle Cala! Tout Chaud!" as hungry churchgoers exited the Sunday services. With the money these women made by selling Cala, they were able to buy their freedom from their masters. What a powerful food! Imagine, if this food were forgotten, what a history could be lost.
My dad's parents have a big old pecan tree that produces the sweetest nuts you could ever taste. That flavor and the work that my grandparents continue to put into harvesting, shelling, and drying these pecans is a huge part of our family's story.
She told the story of "Cala". "Cala" is the traditional West African word for sweet fried rice cakes. Cala became popular in the French Quarter in New Orleans because African women who were slaves in the region, spent each Sunday (their one day off) selling these hot rice cakes in the streets. They exclaimed, "Belle Cala! Tout Chaud!" as hungry churchgoers exited the Sunday services. With the money these women made by selling Cala, they were able to buy their freedom from their masters. What a powerful food! Imagine, if this food were forgotten, what a history could be lost.
My dad's parents have a big old pecan tree that produces the sweetest nuts you could ever taste. That flavor and the work that my grandparents continue to put into harvesting, shelling, and drying these pecans is a huge part of our family's story.
What food is part of YOUR story?
The rest of the day was equally inspiring. I heard Nash talk about seed saving and had the chance to sample some truly amazing flavor explosions. It was clear that each sip or bite I took, it had been prepared with love, care, and its own unique story.
The Nash Crew put together centerpieces for the spectacular lunch.
Some of the Nash Farm Store Crew (Cheryl, Ellen, and Myla)
The rest of the day was equally inspiring. I heard Nash talk about seed saving and had the chance to sample some truly amazing flavor explosions. It was clear that each sip or bite I took, it had been prepared with love, care, and its own unique story.
The Nash Crew put together centerpieces for the spectacular lunch.
Some of the Nash Farm Store Crew (Cheryl, Ellen, and Myla) 
I feel like my - and my family's - food history is more annual than perennial at this point, if that makes sense. Looking forward to extending them further into the past and the future. When I was younger, my family would play UNO using big slices of juicy tomatoes as either the punishment or the reward. There are pictures of me, in victory, taking a big chomp while my brother's bites came only - and hesitantly - in defeat. Filling wheelbarrows with green beans and watermelons grown in the midwest heat are childhood memories I hope to never lose. Thanks for prompting them and countless other thoughts. love.
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