Local Yokel
Trouble a-brewing? No, just one poor lad’s attempt to grapple with language and definitions. A desperate cry for help with a problem that needs solving. A tale of displaced ice cream and localized frustration. A long, long blogpost from the western reaches of Mother Earth (that’s “TM” in New World-speak).
But seriously: here’s an issue that needs a bunch of voices to contribute:
What is local? And how do you define it--with relevant, valuable meaning--in different parts of the world?
(Look out, Terra Madre, here we come!)
I had a REAL Italian gelato two days ago. Waiting at the Tsawwassen ferry terminal to leave the British Columbia mainland for Vancouver Island (home of the Gabriola, Nanaimo, and Victoria farmers’ markets I was off to research), I felt peckish. In the newly renovated food-court-cum-tourist-bonanza, I got lucky. Fifty-five flavors to choose from; zuppa inglese to nocciolo to pompelmo rosso. What a thrill, cause it had been a while since I was at Grom. And surely, if it said REAL Italian, then wouldn’t it be?
I won’t go into the organoleptic qualities of the frozen snack I enjoyed (and I did enjoy it—a medium cup with espresso and hazelnut). The biscotto I had had at Gelateria Cavour in Colorno a couple of days earlier was better; the cherry sorbetto at ALMA a couple of weeks previous to that, worse. There were no claims as to origin of the gelati—it was clearly a Canadian company producing the stuff in Canada. And at the same time, it weren’t no Sealtest Ice Milk. But it got my already fevered brain mulling the subject of local products and international tradition and regional branding. (Certainly, after eight months of consorzioid propaganda on Prosciutto di Parma and Parmigiano-Reggiano, I’m at yellow alert regarding the subject.) So can a foodstuff be produced outside of the region it originated in and still be called local? And what is local, anyway, since we all come from Mesopotamia to start with, right?
A recent directive from Slow Food Command Central, on the subject of my farmers’ market research process, speaks to the issue of “local.� As I wander the stalls of B.C. and Nova Scotia farmers’ markets, I am to be on the lookout for products that are made locally, and to determine the veracity of that localness. By the SF definition, for example, a Camembert made and sold by a local producer using local milk from local cows fed on local feed is not, it turns out, local. The offending element? The name “Camembert,� which apparently must be reserved for cheese from Camembert (i.e. France). But here’s the problem. Imagine this theoretical Camembert-poseur. It tastes like Camembert, looks like it and smells like it, too. What else would you call it? Would you call it a Portland or a Eugene or a Northwestern White-Mold Wheel? Right. Some might argue that it’s stealing the identity of a French village and that village’s traditions. But after a certain time, “Camembert� has become the name of that kind of cheese, wherever it comes from, and there has to be acknowledgement of that stage of the cheesolution. Protectionism limits creativity and is a huge resource-suck. Wouldn’t it be better to direct efforts toward raising consumer expectations of the stuff, and let it all be judged on its merits, rather than on myth-made “tradition� or “typicality� or “localness�? (I could make the same point about the consorzi going after international meat curers and cheesefakers who call their stuff “Parman Prosciutto� or “Parmesano Cheese.� Ripping off established brand value for commercial gains. Bastards. But that’s another rabbit hole…)
I realize that this is blurry territory, but we have to look at regional and cultural differences before bringing down the boom on potentially hard-working, honest, and talented cheesemakers in the New World. It just doesn’t work to be so hard and fast and absolute when you’re talking about Canadian or Australian or Californian products. “Tradition� and “typical� and “local� aren’t the same commodities here as places where people have been commercializing food products for longer.
Everything came from somewhere else at some point. Nebbiolo wasn’t always in Italy. And I’m not sure the buffalo always roamed in Campania. Hey, prosciutto might just be a Celtic import from a thousand years ago…. So at what point on the timeline does a thing get to be called “local�? One of those wonderful/terrible words that has been bandied about lately is “authochthonous.� It carries a lot of weight, but grapes, for example, are called autochthonous if their heritage goes back 100 years. A mere century. They get to be “local� after such a brief waiting period? (That’s a lot of back issues of Elle Décor to get through in the lobby, but not really a lot of time on the European-history scale.) Across the Atlantic, though, food evolution seems to go faster, often by necessity of it being a younger place. So different definitions need to apply, as do different understandings of “local,� and probably different rules for nomenclature.
I have been known to defend policies in places like Quebec, where provincial money is funneled to artists and other producers of cultural content. Performers like Mitsou (the québecoise Madonna of the 1980s and 1990s) wouldn’t have existed if it weren’t for music industry subsidies, and although she’s no shining example of great québecois culture, it was important, and still is important, for people like her to exist. Sure, the market may not be there to support such content. “The market� may prefer American music and if so, why should local culture get an unfair advantage? Why should it be preserved when “nobody� wants to hear it? Well, because it’s distinctive and true and rare, and some things need to be preserved artificially when they don’t get preserved through straight economics. Yes, that’s me acknowledging why “Camembert� might need to be reserved for cheese made in France.
However.
It’s not an and/or situation. There needs to be a third option, or a third and fourth—and a twentieth—to deal with the fact that food culture, and the historical stuff behind it, varies wildly from place to place. One country’s definitions DON’T ALWAYS WORK in other countries, and I’m sorry to say that I think Slow Food in Italy forgets that sometimes.
At Terra Madre there are going to be a lot of things to discuss. Farmers’ markets is one of those subjects, and one that I’m both really excited about and really concerned about. After I do a lot of research with my UNISG colleagues on how markets in the Western world work, I really don’t want to help create a guidelines structure that is absolutist. I don’t want to help set up something that excludes or omits potentially valuable systems, just because it doesn’t fit one definition. I want to be a part of facilitating the dialogue that creates an inclusive, flexible, varying set of definitions. We need to protect producers and support their goals, but we need to do that in ways that work everywhere.
So here’s a call for help. How do we resolve differences and make a set of definitions that’s broad and inclusive, yet specific and structured? What models exist out there in the world for universal platforms with regionally adjusted iterations? How can we create a world where gelato in Western Canada is as real, local, and yes, maybe even Italian in some way—as much so Grom’s flavor of the month?
Ideas? Post ‘em. I’m off to get a cone of Oregon Camembert fior di latte. With sprinkles.
UNISG student, 06:14:AM | | Comment (6)
(Yes, I’m commenting on my own post. I had a new thought.)
Local in Canada gets more interesting when you consider that Canadian cuisine is based in immigrant food culture. I grew up in the great city of Montreal, where my strongest sense of local food was souvlaki, bagels, and ris de veau. That is typical Montreal food to me, and I bet it’ll register with other Montréalais.
We talk about the “Canadian Mosaic” as a model of immigrant cultural integration. That is, a pattern that is unique to Canada yet made up of identifiable, distinct pieces that retain their own identity while still being part of the whole. (Versus the “American Melting Pot” of the U.S.A., where everyone merges together into one culture. Which even there is not really true.) So when you start looking at “local” in Canada, you’re going to see pieces that seem “foreign.” Where foods are local at this level of granularity is in First Nations cuisine, which means going back further than makes sense given the current cultural blend. (Not to minimize those foods in any way, which are also part of the overall makeup.)
In a country like Canada that encourages diversity, local foods are going to be variations on existing, other-country fare. They’ll likely be distinctly Canadian, but also kind of Italian/Greek/Caribbean/Philipino/Thai/Moroccan. Yum, actually.
David Szanto, 08:02 PM - 16 August 06Phew! I’m just grappling with getting past “consorzioid propaganda”. (Do a google search for “consorzioid” - you win, one hit and you’re it - until they index this post).
I subscribe to this quote (and the sentiments that follow) from Stephanie Alexander “..true regional cooking probably no longer exists in any country that has any form of sophisticated transport and communications.”
http://www.regionalfood.com.au/rf/steph_seasons.htm
Fred Harden, 05:27 AM - 18 August 06What is local creates a real challenge especially in multi cultural industralized countries.Here in the Adelaide Hills which is the urban fringe of Adelaide ,capital city of South Australia the surban sprawl is taking over from agriculture & local boundries are constantly expanded.
Deborah Cantrill, 05:22 AM - 27 August 06We where once part of a small local goverment area called Stirling, but in the push to become more efficent, (ha ha)we saw the creation of the Adelaide Hills local government area of which we feel no conection.
When it comes to food & promoting local produce the story is more depressing.
With only a 170 year history to develop a food culture ,modern progress so fast & our population so diverse its impossible to gauge local traditions as they are evolving very fast.
Knowing what is local is one of the challenges I face as a convivium leader & producer in this district.
Smoked Salmon is promoted as local produce. It is produced in a factory in an industrial area. The fish is imported from Tasmainia or overseas. The oak for smoke comes from Europe . The factory exists here because of cheap industrial land & local goverment concessions to encourage development.
There is no sense of ‘terrior’ as in France. No traditional land uses . In Australia if you have land & want to grow or graze you choose the enterprise you want.
Thinking of local you may consider bush foods.There is a bush food producer in our area but the plants grown (which are mainly used to flavour european style foods)are not local species but come from other parts of Australia.
To define local in such areas is the challenge we face but we are working on developing the picture slowly.
The other Slow Food term I have problems with even after attending Terra Madre 04 is the concept of ‘food communities’ maybe others have some ideas.
When you search the Internet for a definition for local food with general ascent two things stand out: the definition is often local to the source defining and each definition is solid and confident. This seems mirrored by what is said above and the resultant attitude might be to desist from trying to track one down. Why bother when it means different things to each person or community. Yet, when we talk to our consumers and scan through media reports the desire to purchase and consume genuinely local food dominates even if the definitions of how this manifests itself may differ.
Jersey is the home of the world famous Jersey Cow. We produce the only dairy products from Jersey Cows in Jersey. Throughout the world, however, (and of greatest interest to us the UK), Jersey products are marketed because they come from a Jersey herd of cows, whether that be in Cornwall or Scotland. Does that matter? It matters to us and our farmers because our herds have been pure pedigree for nearly 200 years; everything that we do and produce is imbued with that heritage; when you enjoy Jersey Dairy yogurts you are enjoying all the qualities and values that you expected from a product with a traceable heritage. In a world where such heritage has often been hijacked for the sake of marketing the distinction, or at least the pursuit of such a distinction, is important I would argue.
This may not readily work in some countries with ‘only a 170 year history to develop a food culture’ but that should surely not abrogate the search for definitions that can work and make sense in the multi-culturally diverse countries that have brought so much culinary colour to us. If Slow Food does nothing else it certainly makes us think about an aspect of food that the public, at least, appear to care about.
Christopher Journeaux, 03:31 PM - 30 August 06Sorry, Fred, for “consorzioid”, but thank you for your good quote. Stuff to chew on as I sit here in Dublin--center of Irish-Mexican, -Middle Eastern, -Japanese, -Indian, etc. food stuffs. Nary a banger or pile o’ mash to be seen. (Well, one.)
David Szanto, 09:00 PM - 30 August 06--DS
Right. I take IT ALL BACK. Place names must be firmly and absolutely protected--no more Spaghetti Bolognese UNLESS it is made and eaten in Bologna! No more Russian Salad unless a tiny wizened former-soviet granny chops up the potatoes and carrots and blends peas and mayo in with her OWN tiny wizened hands! And for god’s sake: NO Taste-of-Tuscany Toasted Southwest Turkey Firenze sandwich at Quiznos in North America (i.e. the straw that broke this particular food-camel’s back).
--DS (Sipping my caffè americano at an internet caf in Dublin...)
David Szanto, 11:50 AM - 01 September 06