Listen, I hope you you have those dishes just sitting on the counter, and you'll throw them away after reading this. OK

I decided to take some time before responding to your post above because, to be quite honest, I was rather taken aback by the tone of some the of phrases you used, most especially the one cited above, which strikes me as rather out of line with the generally pleasant and collegial air that pervades discussions of home-cooking here. Beyond that, I find the idea of taking perfectly good food and throwing it out deeply disturbing. Now, if there are criticisms someone wishes to render as to how I went about making the dish, they may well be of interest, but I can say in all honesty that the dish pictured above was both delicious and very wholesome: to throw such food out uneaten would be an act of barbarism.
But, hopefully, you were just trying to make a point with a bit of rhetorical shock-therapy, so let’s let that issue rest.
You use the word ‘convert’ in your second post above and that seems appropriate for your presentation does sound like it is filled with a sort of religious zeal and righteous indignation. Alas, it leaves me unmoved, in part because you are preaching to someone for whom the message is not new, just more stridently expressed, and in part because the added fervour of your conviction leads to, in my opinion, unreasonable extremism.
I grew up in a time when many of the ingredients that are commonplaces of American cooking these days were far less available than they are today. All the fresh herbs and many of the vegetables that we ate in my extended family were grown in our gardens in Jersey or on the farms of relatives up on the edges of the Catskills. Once I left home and moved off to Belgium, I started shopping at the year-round weekly farmers’ markets and have maintained that habit to the degree that circumstances have permitted throughout the subsequent 25 years. Now that Amata and I finally have a little space in which to make a little vegetable and herb garden of our own, we have done so and enjoyed its products mightily last year and are expanding our tillage for the coming season. While it is, of course, always nice to hear of new markets and stores that carry interesting local items, I don’t feel any need to undergo ‘conversion’ in this regard.
Now, with respect to your particular horror at the dish I presented above here and others of its ilk, I will say the following.
• First, one needs to know the limitations of one’s environment. No artichokes are grown around here, at least not to any noteworthy degree. The number of other vegetables and nuts and fruits that I and others might wish to eat that are not and in many cases cannot be grown in this region are legion. If you wish to limit your diet to a sort of exercise in Illinoisan macrobiotica, feel free to do so, but I like figs and artichokes and olives and lemons and avocados and witloof and... well, the point is clear. I also like to eat on occasion fresh peppers and tomatoes and eggplants etc. etc. during times of the year when local products are obviously not available. Sure, imported vegetables are often not as good as local products and when they are really good, they’re often quite expensive, but much of commerce has developed to overcome the limitations of local climates.
• Now, in light of the preceding point, you surely will allow for the use of exotica, such as the artichoke, but presumably maintain your sense of outrage at my use of fresh favas in a “springtime dish,” since favas can be grown in this region but appear later in the season than these imported favas: I and others should not make this or other such dishes until the locally produced vegetables appear.
As I said in response to your “eat local” disapproval of my posts on fresh favas last year, I will happily buy locally produced favas if and when I encounter them at one of the farmers’ markets I visit. But your ‘philosophical’ or, more appropriately, religious approach to menu planning, however, satisfying and comforting it may be for you, I find unappealing in its extreme nature. The fact is that a major part of how I eat is intimately connected to who I am, to the ethnic and cultural background of my family. As someone raised in a strongly Italian cultural setting, a cultural setting in which food is an unquestionably central element, there is a whole body of culinary traditions which we follow. These traditions involve to a considerable degree a sort of food calendar or better still, two food calendars, one which conforms to the availability of local, seasonal produce, and another which – despite the fact that we are far from our ancestral home in central Italy – still follows the timing of the appearance of various comestibles in the ‘old country’, where their appearance was and to a degree still is closely tied to exigencies of the environment of the land there. Many -- though not all -- aspects of this foreign calendar are especially strong because of the close ties between certain foods and certain holidays: at Easter one eats lamb and fresh cheese, on Christmas Eve, one eats
broccoli di rape, during Carnival one eats pork, and during Lent, one eats fresh peas and new potatoes and baby artichokes and fresh favas. I no more intend to abandon the traditional, inherited calendar -- whether that means I must sometimes buy imported favas or not -- than I intend to change my name or renounce Catholicism.
So then, I find your ‘eat local’ inclinations laudable enough, insofar as they conform to inclinations I’ve long had of supporting farmers’ market and enjoying the produce of private herb and vegetable gardens. But I have absolutely no inclination toward or interest in accepting an extreme and exaggerated approach to eating that would force me to limit my diet according to the availability of the local produce of northern Illinois and abandon the ties to the rich and wholesome culinary traditions of my family’s Italian culture. I will continue to eat with pleasure and on occasion to post on such seasonal dishes as
ciaudedda.
Antonius
Alle Nerven exzitiert von dem gewürzten Wein -- Anwandlung von Todesahndungen -- Doppeltgänger --
- aus dem Tagebuch E.T.A. Hoffmanns, 6. Januar 1804.
________
Na sir is na seachain an cath.