Thinking Local

While to middle-aged yuppies eating locally means a conscious attempt to eat food grown and produced within a 100-mile radius, the life of a penniless yet idealistic student warrants a tweaked guide to eating local foods­—one radical in its attempts at both economy and conservation. The following can serve as a guidepost for every student trying to “go local.” Don’t reach farther than arm’s length! Or if you’re pushing it, you can fulfill all your dietary needs from your neighbor’s kitchen, the backyard, or the dining hall.

Consider the following: you wake up on a Saturday morning (read: mid-to-late-afternoon). Still staring at the off-kilter ceiling fan, an audible grumble rises above the sound of your housemate’s shower. Stomach needs food! But to get up—ah, there is the rub. It is impossibly comfortable on your single-bed under your mildewing quilt. There is also last night’s new special friend to avoid waking up, before you begin avoiding him or her altogether.

Relatively edible options within a four-foot radius are rather scarce. First, consider those pants pockets. Although your lower garments were probably abandoned in haste the night before, they are likely to contain some sort of candy, gum, or unmarked star-shaped pill. Maybe you stashed some food found in the party house’s pantry the night before—a street-smart move only to be expected from particularly thrifty sociopaths. Do try to get in the habit of pouring any sort of transportable food (rice, granola, oats, dog food) found at parties directly into your pockets. The jean lining adds a subtle starchy flavor. Gourmet pants-pocket meals aside, if you were smart enough to hide anything even vaguely food-like in your pants pockets, grab it and feast.

If you strike out and find only lint in your pants pockets—consider the lint. Then focus on the floor, bedside table, and the grooves in your furniture. Old pizza crusts tend to collect like dust bunnies under bedroom rugs. While trying to eat locally, always consider the well-worn aphorism: “God made dirt, and dirt don’t hurt.” No matter your religious persuasion, keep in mind that this rhyme reiterates the frequently organic nature of dirt. Caked dirt also preserves the old pizza crust’s color and image of edibility. Sticking to the room also allows you to stay in bed and faux-snuggle with last night’s mistake!

Floor and pocket foods are easily the most sustainable local choice you can make as a college student trying to stay ethical in your consumption. But if you’ve struck out twice with the arm-length radius test, getting up and searching the rest of the house is the next step. If you find anything unlabeled in the fridge or pantry, smell-check it, and then dig in. Expiration dates are usually to be trusted, but don’t forget that scent offers the most precise and acute gauge of edibility. If you gag, consider plugging your nose.

If you’re well aware that taking a trip to Kroger or a Barracks eatery exceeds your budget, and that you have no reasonably edible items in your kitchen, don’t let the walls of your home inhibit you. The backyard vegetation native to Charlottesville offers a wide range of edible plants. That stuff with three jagged leaves and a red stem (like an ivy plant) is totally great if you sauté it with a little bit of olive oil. Also, don’t forget to reach beyond foraging and go for the live stuff. Opossum meat is utterly divine. The trick is catching them—a stick with a string tied to it propping up a box is recommended.

Uncomfortable killing small rodents and eating backyard greens? Then look no further than your next-door neighbor’s kitchen! What could be more local? Next time you’re over to borrow an Allen wrench for your bike, or just hanging out, don’t forget your reusable canvas grocery shopping bag! They’re trendy, and if you say it’s your new book bag, no one will ever suspect that you’re really taking Chef Boyardee ravioli right from their pantry! Don’t forget to grab condiments and other items that you’d like to include in your menu that evening. The only thing to keep in mind is that you must try and limit your snatching purely to things that are unopened or seem relatively new. That way, your “friends” will think they just forgot to buy it the last time they went to Kroger. College students never check their receipts. You’ll also avoid potentially getting the swine.

Succinctly, the motto behind the local food movement on college campuses everywhere: “It’ll all be together in my stomach anyway.” Or maybe its just “whatever man, I’m starved.” Only one more word of advice to all you students: never forget to sniff the milk. Uggh.