Get creative about promoting local food.

Silence Dogood here. Our friend Ben and I are enthusiastic about PASA, the Pennsylvania Association for Sustainable Agriculture, and its “Buy Fresh, Buy Local” logo. (Hey, that bumper sticker is on our car—along with “No Farms, No Food”—and if that’s not commitment, what is?!) So when we got an e-mail from them this morning, I checked it out. And had a revelation.

The e-mail was showcasing upcoming Philadelphia events that focused on local foods, wines, and beers, high-end affairs that our friend Ben and I applaud but are about as likely to attend as a wedding at the Vatican. ($170 a couple?! We have heating bills to pay, a stove to fix, squirrel damage to repair…) Nor are these local-food dinners exactly breaking news. (And yes, that’s really good news. The more the merrier!)

So what was the revelation? That OFB and I can’t afford take-out pizza, much less dinner in Philadelphia? That Philadelphia’s caught on to the local food thing? That some enterprising squirrels have been marketing Hawk’s Haven’s organic black walnuts, butternuts, and hickory nuts behind our backs and investing the proceeds in peanut butter stocks? Sorry.

What caught my attention was that the chefs and local food organizations had paired up with local potters as well as local vintners and brewers. Handmade regional ceramics would not only be used to serve these meals, but would be for sale at the events. I thought that this was more than brilliant, and would be a good starting point for other groups who wanted to promote local food, organic food, fresh food, and/or whole food in their areas.

Maybe it’s just because our friend Ben and I love pottery and ceramics of many sorts—from contemporary and historic Pueblo pottery, Pennsylvania redware, Moroccan, Japanese, and artisanal contemporary ceramics, to our very local Willi Singleton masterpieces made from Hawk Mountain clay and fired with cornstalks from area fields—but we see the integral connection between food and the vessels it’s made and served in. The earth that grows the food and the earth that makes the vessels. Local food, local pottery makes perfect sense to us.

We don’t know if buying functional local dishware and serving vessels is as irresistible to everyone as it is to us, but if it makes sense to you, you might consider doing something like this at your next local/organic/etc. food function. It’s not just a way to bring more people in or to raise much-needed money. You’re also giving your local artists exposure along with local farmers, chefs, bakers, brewers, vintners, and etc. You could give woodworkers, beadmakers, fiber artists, and so on space and publicity as well, or people who craft beautiful glassware or are keeping the art of metalworking or basketry or quilting alive.

The point is, combining local foods with local crafts to raise awareness and appreciation of all of them makes so much sense. Someone who might think about going to a local-foods supper but not really commit themselves might think twice if some great crafts were also on offer. And having a selection of those locally made wines, beers, condiments, cheeses, preserves and the like for sale certainly wouldn’t hurt, either.

What about pushing a little bit further out? A brunch with dishes and beverages made from locally grown herbs, where guests could customize their own take-home herb tea blends at the end? A “girls’ night out” featuring local foods and wines, with a local beadmaker and hairdresser doing beaded braids? A local cheese and beer tasting with fondue lessons featuring cheese-and-beer fondue and artisanal breads? Local foods, featuring lamb dishes and sheep cheese, with a crafter of handmade, hand-dyed wool yarns selling yarn, handcrafted wooden needles, and knitted items, and perhaps offering a beginning knitting lesson? The possibilities are endless.

Obviously, you don’t want to lose the local food message. But maybe expanding the focus to other local crafts would help ensure the success of your event. Think about it. And good luck!

               ‘Til next time,

                          Silence