Well, I have a week left before I start my new job. In the mean time, I’ve begun writing a bit for money, and am finishing up some web development stuff; enjoying my last week with constant computer access before I begin my long hours in the kitchen. I’m excited to begin, but I want to make the most of my free time now.

One of the things I’ve been doing lately is reading up a bit on the Crunchy Cons, since parts of their movement really appeal to me. The general idea of the movement (also called Granola Conservatism) is that eating well, living frugally, and caring for the environment are not in any way antithetical to traditionalist, God-fearing, family valuing conservatism. John Schwenkler is someone who has been taken by the philosophy in a way that I can really understand, and even though I don’t agree with him or others in the movement on all issues, including faith, from reading his articles I have come to truly appreciate the movement.

One reason I like John’s writing so much is the way he writes about food. He has a great article up on Plenty Magazine’s website that discusses the problems with the ways in which we’ve politicized food, taking for example poor arugula. What is a delicious green has been turned into something only liberals should enjoy due to an admittedly stupid gaff made by Senator Obama earlier in the campaign. The article explains all this, and goes further into the virtues of arugula (or rocket, as it’s often known). It also brings me to my second Note from the Kitchen.

The article struck a chord with me because, god damn it, I love arugula. I first discovered how wonderful a green it was while working in my last restaurant job. I worked for a good friend of mine, Mike Hiller, at the Spit-Fire Grille. We always had a good lunch crowd, so we had a lot of hot sandwiches on the menu. One thing Mike insisted on was having fresh arugula to put on every sandwich. Arugula is a strong, crisp green when fresh, and it added a great crunch and spice to the sandwiches. We would buy arugula by the bagful, several times a week, from the local farmers.

At Spit-Fire, which was essentially a small, local restaurant, we used a lot of local greens and vegetables, usually as many as we could buy from the local farmers (and yes, there are farmers in Alaska: the long summer days and rich soil make for decent growing conditions). While a previous job at a health food store working produce helped me to appreciate organic produce, working at the restaurant helped me to learn the beauty of fresh-picked produce. The local produce we got was almost always more fresh and more delicious than even the organic stuff we got shipped from Seattle. The joy of shittakes picked and sauteed on the same day was a privileged to experience. Potatoes, arugula, bok choy, broccoli; all could be had locally. This isn’t even to mention the fresh fish and seafood available.

Working with local food, buying directly from and interacting with the farmers, seeing the freshness directly influence the final meal, all helped me develop relationships with people, food, and the land, and shaped my passion for food. Without that job, and without such a wonderful chef, I would not be where I am today, excited for a job that again lets me work with food and confident in the abilities of local communities and economies to do good things for the soul. As my chef, Mike not only taught me about produce and instilled in me a passion for food, but also showed me all my knife skills, introduced me to libertarianism, and was about the best boss a guy could ask for.

The thing is am most grateful for, though, is this passion for food. It’s something that I wish I could let others experience. I try to every time I cook a meal for people: to let them see my movements, my pleasure in the process of making the food, as well as to give them the knowledge I have about the ingredients I use, and finally to make them something tasty. It’s this passion and experiences with local food that put me in, to some degree, with the Crunchy Cons. More than just a political movement, the Crunchy Cons are largely united by their passions for localism, food, and community, and their willingness to live as they preach. Many conservatives and libertarians would do well to look towards them for their goals and their passion, and to remember that just because “the liberals” do it does not make it wrong, and caring about food, Earth, and community should not be looked down upon. Indeed, it is what we should be striving to attain.