#sorrymichaelpollan

(Note: I stole the title for this post from a twitter hashtag penned stolen from @crollwagon by my friend Cassia. Cass is a brilliant person — and I enjoy stealing from her [she, apparently, also enjoys stealing from her brilliant friends]. Thanks, gals!)

And why might I feel the need to apologize to Mr. Pollan? Because — although he’s never (as far as I know) claimed a desire to act as Moral Judge O’ The Universe in the realm of local eating, he’s sort of unwittingly become that. So, on days like today, when I am planning to make two batches of ice cream for a party we’re hosting tomorrow night for The Center‘s interns, and one of those ice creams will be Strawberry Sour Cream, I would love for my day to look like this one we spent last year (or the years before):

strawberries_pickin

…picking our strawberries from a local farm. The berries are tastier, cheaper, and our cash goes to straight to the farmers. Not a bad setup, and definitely not a bad way to spend a Monday morning.

Some days, though, it’s just not possible. So we instead get our strawberries the new-fashioned way:

strawberries_storebought

…we purchase them, two pounds for $4, at Trader Joe’s. The berries aren’t as good, they’re pricier, it’s not nearly as much fun, and we add just a smidgeon of a toenail to our carbon footprint. And I feel a wee bit bad about it.

Just not bad enough to not make the Strawberry Sour Cream ice cream.

Is 3 years of berry-picking enough penance for one year of buying them shipped from California?