The other day I popped open a quart jar of white chicken chili and poured the chili into a pot on the stove to warm it slowly for dinner. I made this white chicken chili from scratch, absolutely every ingredient in it except for the chili powder was grown here on the homestead. Not only was it grown here on the homestead which was a labor of at least 4 months, it was then prepared, cooked, and pressure canned to preserve it, another several hours of work. The white chicken chili is amazing, and I’m sure part of why I think it tastes so good is because I know the effort of every bit of it.
It was time for chores, so I checked the pot on the stove, turning it down to the lowest setting. I got ready, headed outside and went to feed and care for the animals. Without a doubt, I got sidetracked spending more time with the animals than originally planned. Spending time with them is good for the soul, so who can be blamed for doing such a thing?
When I got back into the yurt, I was quickly reminded that I had white chicken chili on the stove and the signs were clear, we would NOT be having this for dinner. A thick smoke was starting to billow out of the pot lid, there was a loud hissing noise, and the smell of burned food was enough to make me open all the windows even though it was only around 30 degrees F outside. I quickly pulled the pot off the stove and after it stopped boiling (it was so hot it took several minutes for it to stop!) I stirred it, examining and hoping that perhaps some could be salvaged. Nope, absolutely none would be salvaged.
I was disappointed at myself for this neglect…I wasted the food. It was our homegrown food. Not only did I ruin a wonderfully tasty meal, but all the hard work that went into that quart of white chicken chili was all for naught. My initial reaction may seem extreme, but imagine spending hours upon hours creating a beautiful piece of art only to have it torn apart, never to be that piece of art again.
While we did not get to eat the white chicken chili for dinner, on our homestead almost nothing goes truly goes to waste. Certain foods get fed to the animals (like shriveled grapes, chickens love these!), or if they are not edible, it gets put into the compost pile, which eventually ends up back in the garden to grow more food.
April is National Poetry Month, so while prepping some homeschool materials, I recently ran across this ancient (sometime between the 7th and 10th century) Chinese poem which reminded me of the white chicken chili incident. The English translation is below:
Farmers weeding at noon,
Sweat down the field soon.
Who knows food on a tray
Thanks to their toiling day?
I read that this poem is still used in Chinese culture today to teach children about not wasting food.
Even if we are consuming food that we didn’t grow, it’s important to think about the efforts that went into it. My mind is blown at how cheap food can be. Think about a loaf of bread at the store. You can buy a nice quality loaf for $3. Somehow $3 covers the advertising, the stocking, the packaging, the shipping, the labor to make the bread, the energy to bake it, the process of turning wheat into flour, the tractors and fuel to harvest the field, the wheat to plant, the labor to plant it and more steps that I skipped! Yet, it’s only $3.
There are a lot of opinions about the food system, but I think we can all agree, getting healthy food to people takes time and a lot of effort. And perhaps we can also agree that the majority of the public does not understand or appreciate this truth. Next meal, think about where your food came from and be grateful to have it. A lot of time and effort went into it so that you can enjoy.
The white chicken chili incident also taught me another lesson. In the future, will I leave the stove on while I’m doing chores? Absolutely not!
Peace, Love & Nature,