Kelly's take on Farm Share - from The Onion.
Farm Share is a poplar trend, and a good deal provided you actually eat the food. We have participated in two, one in New York, and one here in Georgia, and both have been great. We actually cook though, and this makes a big difference. A lot of Yuppies buy into a Farm Share to make a political statement, and just let the food rot, as they don't know what to do with it.
Mark used to work at a wine shop (actually a small winery) in New York, and it was a "drop off" point for the local Farm Share. What was interesting is that a lot of people wouldn't pick up their share, and he had to call them to remind them their share was rotting in the walk-in. They had a local rule - if you didn't pick up your share the first day, the berries (which rot within a day) were fair game for the staff. Those who are tardy, do not get fruit cup.
The fact that several of the Farm Share members (mostly wealthy people who drove brand-new BMWs or Mercedes and lived in "look at me!" mini-mansions) consistently forgot to pick up their farm share, was a sure indication to us that a lot of people were doing this to "make a point" rather than to "make dinner."
After a few cocktails, one Farm Share member confided to us that most of her share "just rotted in the fridge" as the kids didn't like kale or daikon radish and moreover, her cooking skills were largely limited to microwaving hot pockets for her kids.
Most Farm Shares come with recipes that give you ideas on what to do with your bucket of Swiss Chard or various oddly shaped root products such as sun chokes (which are good). I like the Farm Share concept, as it forces me to try new things (that are generally healthy for me) and is a break in our regular kibble.
The local farmers who run the local Farm Share are really cool. The other customers, though, can be real assholes. I'm kind of learning that I have to keep to my own self these days, as it is just isn't profitable to be "nice" to others.
I was picking up our share today and a lady roars up in a "Luxury SUV" with a St. Simons plate on the front. As she walks by me, I say, "Hi" and she glares at me. I go to pick up my share and try to make small talk. "Isn't this great?" I say. Silence. "Have you tried any of the recipes that come with the share? We've tried them all! We made cabbage potato latkes, last week! They were great!"
She looks at me for a second, and then says, with a condescending sneer, "We don't eat potatoes!"
So I said, "Well, fuck you bitch!" Well, not exactly. I think I said something like, "Well, it had cabbage in it, too..." and then quietly slunk away.
OK, discussion over. People who live on St. Simons island think their shit doesn't stink and they also have a big stick up their ass. Funny thing, too, their island actually has a ghetto (and a crime rate), and yet they look down as us poor Jekyll folk as if we were all Hillbillies. Oh, well, you know the type - just better off not to engage them. I imagine her crisper is filled with last week's rotting Farm Share. She'll just jam this week's in on top of it - sort of like composting. I'm sure it is a designer fridge, too. Why are people like that so unhappy? They have all those material things, right? Oh, right. That's why they're unhappy.
You know, she could have just nodded her head and said, "You don't say! Bless your heart!" She chose not to.
So what do you do with all these vegetables and roots? Well, if you are stumped, just make a refrigerator pie. Take a pie crust, line it with shredded cheese, then take every leftover in your fridge, chop it all up, add a few cloves of chopped garlic, some leftover rice, and a few eggs to bind it all together, and then put it in the pie crust and bake. Kinda gross, but it beats hot pockets!