Food Connect

I’m standing on the second floor of a massive grocery store in Charlottetown, and I’m staring out to the perfectly aligned rows brimming with produce and pretty boxes of conveniently packaged and processed foods. I’m thinking back to a day last summer when I attempted my weekly shop up, and was greeted with various inconspicuous signs telling me that due to high winds resulting in the closure of the Confederation Bridge, some of the beloved items I’d come to purchase, were not available. These burgeoning aisles of what seems like an endless supply of “food” were empty. “It doesn’t take much,” I think to myself. This precarious system we’ve got here, it doesn’t take much to throw it off kilter.

I grew up in a small subdivision in Cornwall. Mom and Dad tended modest, backyard gardens over the years, but for the most part, not unlike a number of Island families, we paid a weekly visit to the supermarket, and stocked up on necessities, origins unknown. I was admittedly ashamed of myself last autumn at the Charlottetown Farmer’s Market when I saw a stalk of brussel sprouts and thought, “Ohhh, so that’s how brussel sprouts grow!” I hardly recognized them without their no-name freezer bag.

Shamefulness aside, I don’t think I’m in the minority. We’re disconnected. We don’t know where or how or when our food was grown, and to me this raises some interesting questions for how we plan to navigate some potentially challenging times ahead. Don’t get me wrong, though, I’m not a “doom and gloomer”, in fact, very much the opposite. Somewhere along the way we got lost in our own elaborate systems, but that’s okay. The good news is, there is a vibrant, thriving group of hard working, dedicated community members who are doing their best to reconnect us.

I think about friends of mine who live in the country, have managed to plant fields of food, are growing trees, and are researching things like ‘companion planting’ and what to do when your chickens gang up on each other, upsetting harmony in the roost. In my attempts to get connected, to ask questions, and create networks, I thought it would be useful to bring these stories to the fore and share some of my discoveries with other people who may be pondering the same kinds of concerns.

What constitutes a farm? What’s the difference between feeding ourselves and nourishing ourselves? How do we build community? What’s happening in the small towns on PEI?  These are the kinds of notions I intend to explore, and I invite you to join me as I journey to find some answers. I’m planning a visit to Kevin Garvey and Amanda Beazley’s farm/orchard on the Bethel Road. They’ve got some wonderful knowledge to share, so stay tuned for their story. It seems like a good place to start.

Strory by Cynthia Dennis