Bounty

beans pulling down the trellis.

When I wrote the blog post about how I discriminate against some of the things growing in my garden and choose not to eat weeds like purslane and dandelions (not that there’s anything wrong with that), a friend e-mailed me a great story. She said that when she was living in Colorado on a small researcher stipend, she was sad that she couldn’t afford to join a CSA or shop at the health food store for produce. She ate simply and well, and actually at the end of the season she won a gleaning opportunity. A local farm/CSA used a lottery to invite 50 families who couldn’t otherwise afford the CSA to come to the farm and glean 50 pounds of produce. That included things still in the field and also “the uglies” that they couldn’t sell at the Farmer’s Market or put in the CSA shares. She said she felt rich eating that food.

Also, think about it. That is 2,500 pounds of food that went to families. A log of uglies.

I don’t eat every edible thing that grows in my garden, but I eat a lot of it. And I have noticed that each night when we sit down to eat and say grace, I pause anew over the words. Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen. It’s the word “bounty” that gets me– “thy bounty.” I feel rich. I feel blessed. When I’m cooking and when I’m eating, I’m aware of the bounty and the wonderful gift of food.

This year, when she’s making a good salary, my friend bought a membership in a CSA for the season. She and I did a “canning” exchange a few weeks ago. I sent her some salsa and red pepper sauce, and she sent me sour cherry jam and apricot jam. And because today is Sunday, I dug into that sour cherry jam for my English muffin. And I enjoyed the bounty.