Local? Check. Organic? Check. Real food that fills the stomach? Uhm...
Why regional, organic shopping for an actual meal is harder than you think
4 min readOn holiday last week, my better half and I decided to do a spot of responsible, sustainable shopping from local producers.
It was a rare opportunity for us. We are (for the moment) city people who don’t own a car. Ordinarily, we can’t get to farms in the countryside. If supermarket supply chains break down, we starve. But we’d borrowed a vehicle for a week on the road.
And we were in Steiermark – a land regarded by Austrians as some kind of Eden. Judging by the way food is advertised in this country, an apple or a pumpkin reared in Steiermark has by default been kissed by Mother Nature herself. Each one is a little bomb of organic goodness, primed to unleash a phalanx of vitamins at first bite.
So, in the spirit of the times, we made plans to concoct a guilt-free stew out of potatoes, pumpkin, Käferbohnen and other wholesome local vegetables.
And so to sourcing the supplies. To its credit, the local Billa supermarket in Birkfeld had a prominent section devoted to local produce. Potatoes, carrots and onions in unpretentious bags bearing the sticker of a farm literally just up the road. This was already a grand improvement on what our city equivalent would have to offer. But still, we thought, it would be even better to go to a farmer direct. Or perhaps to one of those vegetable stands you sometimes see by the roadside in rural places. Support the little guy and all that.
After a combination of driving around and asking around (including Google), however, we concluded that this part of Steiermark wasn’t hot on roadside food stalls. Not to worry, we thought: the internet now has platforms for this kind of thing. Take, for example, bauernladen.at. As the title suggests, the whole thing is dedicated to buying food direct from farmers. All we had to do was feed in our location, and a map would identify farms in the area who were happy to receive shoppers – or in some cases even deliver.
Our vision was of a struggling fellow with dirty hands, surrounded by a variety of crops ripe for sale. One who would be grateful for us cutting out the middleman as he tried to make ends meet. Not because we think all farmers are cartoon caricatures with straws hanging out of their mouths, but because we’re constantly reading about the challenging economic reality of working the land in the 21st century. Farming is a struggle, isn’t it?
So imagine our surprise when we couldn’t find a farmer within reasonable driving distance who was willing to sell us actual food. Oh, we could have wild honey. We could have infused vinegar. We could have trout pate and raspberry compote. But could we grab a few of the Steiermark apples that weighed down shelves at our supermarket back in Vienna? Or a pumpkin for our evening meal? You guessed it: no.
I don’t know about you, but if I were packing my tucker bag for a stint on a desert island, I’d be taking something that a can actually form the basis of a meal. Not feckin’ verjus.
And so, in the end, we shopped at Billa after all. It was a five-minute walk from our accommodation, and although we could perhaps have driven to its potato supplier (which wasn’t on bauernladen.at), doing so seemed like unnecessary emissions when somebody had already driven the produce close to where we were. And besides, there is a lot to be said for supporting the supermarket’s ‘local’ section. Keep on cleaning out those particular shelves and their computers will take note. With time and dedication, perhaps the ‘local’ section will be 90% of the store. Which is exactly as it should be.
As for the farmers on that platform, I’m in no position to judge them. Perhaps focusing on luxury products that get people talking at dinner parties or provide tiny taste sensations is the only sensible business decision in the current environment. I just wanted to share our experience as would-be responsible consumers. That we wanted to buy some proper, substantial food ingredients at source, but we couldn’t.
Clearly, not all farmers have registered on such platforms. Perhaps there is an opportunity there. I’d also love to see a lot more signs dotting the countryside, inviting passers-by to take the next turnoff and stock up on eggs, milk and the like. In a time when many of us are nervous about the longer-term reliability of our supply chains and various ‘what if’ scenarios, the reasons for that ought to be clear.
But for now, we’ve learned that getting out of the supermarket loop isn’t easy, even when you’re in the countryside and have treated yourself to a car for the day. Much as I hate lining the pockets of large chains, I have to admit that they do a pretty darn good job of bringing everything together in one place. And where local produce is concerned, one truck bringing everything to walking distance of many is a better emissions deal than every little fella driving his car up to the farm. There’s a certain efficiency there.
This also applies to farmer’s markets and smaller food stores dedicated to regional produce. We even understand that their efficiency can never be quite so good as that of a mega-chain, and that this might mean paying a bit more. We can get on board with that too. But again, as people of regular means wanting to make a simple dinner, we’re only able to do so if they don’t fall into the trap of stocking their shelves exclusively for show-offs and hipsters.
And that’s it for today’s shopping report from beautiful Steiermark. Right now, I’ve got a potato and pumpkin stew to eat…