Cranberry Sauce

Day 24: Cranberry Sauce and Other Forgotten Foods

Many of these have not been
touched in months

I've been trying to figure out just how beneficial it would be to the American economy if everyone in the U.S. bought American cars. We build a lot of "foreign" cars in the auto corridor. It's also not clear how much country-of-origin impacts people's decisions about car purchases.

Food, on the other hand, is a much simpler question. Michigan is the number one U.S. producer of squash, beans, blueberries, tart cherries and a dozen other agricultural crops. You can head down to the farmer's market right this minute and buy milk, honey, meat, fruits and vegetables from the farmer down the road, and you won't need any complicated economic models to determine whether or not you helped the local economy. You did. 

And you won't need a PhD in chemistry to tell you that what you're eating tastes a whole lot better than the unripe food harvested two weeks ago and shipped 5,000 miles to your grocery store.

Of course, almost none of the stuff I got rid of today came from local farmers, except maybe my sister's homemade Thanksgiving cranberry sauce (so delicious, but I took too much!), stovetop popcorn and stale Avalon bread. All of which the chickens greatly enjoyed.

I would have given the chickens the "light" Spartan yogurt, except I'm afraid it might kill them. If I had noticed the "light" label, I never would have bought it. As if plain non-fat yogurt isn't "light" enough, this "light" yogurt actually has chemically-reduced calories. I don't know how they did it, but I can tell you that the texture resembles Jell-o more than yogurt. 

Does this count as food?

Which reminds me. It's probably time to get rid of the plain Knox gelatin we mixed up and applied to Emma's hair once upon a time, in order to create a hard Playskool figure shellac that kept its shape in the water. She hasn't been a synchronized swimmer in over five years.

Note to self: add yogurt to Calder Dairy milk order.