Confession of an Alaskan in March

I bought $13 worth of green beans last night.

They're shipped from Mexico - thousands of miles away.  They are not organic.  And they were $2.69/lb.
They must represent dozens of gallons of petroleum prducts.
And right now, I'm ok with that.

They look good!  Even in the summer I can rarely find green beans that are not shriveled, or brown-splotched, or tough looking.  And for the majority of the year I avoid buying outlandishly priced non-local vegetables.  But there's something about March, when the negative two degree weather feels that much colder because its started to be light until 8pm, when the piles of snow and hardpack on roads and driveways is depressing because you're beginning to dream of hoes and seeds.  There's something about March that makes me buy 5 pounds of glorious green beans, and plan a meal around them.  Darlin' Man loves green beans.  I'll buy pork chops from Homegrown, and make herbed potatoes.  So two out of three main ingredients in tomorrow's dinner will be local. 

I aspire, and am working towards, a table that bears primarily food I've grown or bought and bartered from other Alaskans.  I admire William Street Farmhouse for taking on the challenge of eating only Alaskan.  Eating local is important to me, it is fun, and tasty and rewarding.  But there are times in March when I'm glad for the big bag of fresh green beans sitting in my refrigerator.