b & l loves: the politics of the plate.

I can't stop thinking about this article. 

I receive Gourmet Magazine every month. I'm not a skilled enough cook to make most of what is so beautifully laid out in the magazine, but I have a thing for food writers. I also have a thing for justice, so it works out great that the have a section called, "Politics of the Plate".

The article is called, The Price of Tomatoes. It speaks of a town in South Florida, less than an hour away from Naples, called Immokalee. Immokalee is home to one of the largest communities of farm workers who, together with a few other local communities supply and harvest as much as 90% of our country's domestic tomatoes from December to May. 

According to Gourmet, it's also ground zero for modern slavery. Modern slavery, "just outside of our country's 2nd wealthiest metropolitan area".

Latinos make up 70% of Immokalee's population, where the per capita income is a mere $8,500.00. Most of the pickers, undocumented and carless, have no choice but to live in dilapidated conditions. These guys work at a break neck pace for maybe $50.00 a day. But factor in weather, your own health, transportation, etc, and a lot can go wrong. Egregious rates for monthly rent and everyday tasks such as taking a shower ($5 for a cold hose) coupled with random, unstable, and often seeded through paychecks not only worsen debt, but essentially prevent the pickers from ever getting out of the cycle.

You must read the article. My words don't do it justice. 

Douglas Molloy, chief assistant U.S. attorney said, "It's not an assumption. It's a fact", when asked if it was reasonable to assume that an American who has eaten a fresh tomato from the grocery story during the winter has eaten fruit picked by the hand of a slave. 

The good thing about problems like this is there is a solution. 

The consumer can come alongside the slave.

According to the article, so far, the only chain that has signed on to the Coalition of Immokalee Workers Campaign for Fair Food is Whole Foods. This campaign means a commitment to not deal with growers who tolerate abuse, and agree to pay a price that supports a living wage. 

There's certain things I'm willing to pay the extra expense for. I don't claim to be a devout organic epicure, because I'm not. But I do know that I'm willing to think twice about where my food is coming from, if it is building up or tearing down. 

These days, it's all about the triple bottom dollar: the bottom line (a given), but also community and sustainability. All of a sudden, we find ourselves in a place where we need to start thinking about the way we consume things, and its affect on our world: the people and their environment. 

Besides, tomatoes can wait for the summer. Make mine heirloom, sprinkled with sea salt, and lightly drizzled with balsamic and olive oil.

this love is like a drop in the ocean.

I love it when you hear a song and there's a particular phrase you just can't shake. It's just that good. 

Bono, you're real good. 

Throughout a large portion of this year, the first year of adulthood (because when you're 21 it means nothing until you find yourself going through ValPaks looking for coupons on car washes, or making sure all the lights are actually turned off before you leave the house), I have found my heart repeating the sentence, "My God is mightier than circumstance." This love, his love, his love for me, is like a drop in the ocean, translating life and energy to places I couldn't have even fathomed.

My God is larger and mightier than circumstance.

So, I see myself as the drop. I bring all of what I think to be all of me. I have a border, a boundary, clearly defined space. My drop is today, April 28th, 23 years old. But when I fall into the unfathomable measures of God's ways and plans, I become surrounded by something outside of myself. Something bigger, and greater, and wider, and longer, and it's awesome.

What if we all were willing to be submersed in an ocean of God's plans and promises?

take this soul, and make it sing. 

enjoy.

In my second life, I would really love to bake things for a living. Maybe it will happen in my first life, but until then, I crave in moderation: all things baked goods.

On my way home from a fabulous weekend away, my boyfriend and I stopped by one of my favorite places, Los Olivos. I feel like all Anthropologie photo shoots of girls in pretty dresses were probably shot here. (If you’re a female reading this, you already know what Los Olivos looks like).

It’s wine country meets rolling hills with oak tree overpasses meets small town that has about as many tasting rooms as it does cars, and you get the drift. On one corner there’s the ten year old with a petition, trying to save his sheep, on another corner there’s Coquelicot, an incredible tasting room that boasts of a bocce ball court and really great sustainable wine. 

And on another corner (there’s a lot of corners) is the Saarloos & Sons Tasting “House”, home to Enjoy Cupcakes.

I don’t think I’ll make my mark on baking society before the cupcake bubble bursts, but this one-display-case-bakery boasts of flavors like Chocolate Blackberry Syrah, Tart Ginger Lime Chardonnay, and Aloha Cheesecake (which, according to the website, is “Alan’s Favorite”).

The best thing about Enjoy Cupcakes beside the product is the vehicle in which the product travels in: a restored vintage “Shasta” trailer. As if I wasn’t already in love with this trailer, put some white twinkling lights and roll out the awning, and you could have a party in just about –no make that literally anywhere and it 

would be darling.

i would like you at my next party little trailer. 

Another great element to Enjoy (witty, I know) is that they are willing to incorporate just about any design element to custom create a cupcake – whether it be a flower, color, flavor, or drink.

Dear Enjoy Cupcakes,
I really like chocolate, peonies and summer berries. I’ll be by soon to pick up my cupcake.

Fondly,
Erin.