I was washing a bunch of greens recently when I had a surprise visitor–a pale green inchworm, a happy little camper (very much alive) chilling out and clearly visible against the deep green of the kale.  I plucked him out and continued with my dinner prep.    Moments later, I was greeted by the worm’s sibling (cousin? niece?) standing on top of the leafy heap and swaying happily on his/her inchworm butt –little did he know that the days of hanging out in the veg were coming to a swift end.

the finished product, sans worm

There is a total ick factor in all of this.  I think that like most people my first impulse is to want my food to be glossy and perfect, and finding something moving (alive!) in my food gives me the creeps.  But I’m trying to work on that, reasoning that a live worm means no toxic chemicals and a short journey from the farm to the plate.   The local and sustainable factor is a big reason I work (and shop)  the market.  And that’s what I keep saying I want, so if it means I find an occasional critter in my food so be it.

By the way, the sauteed kale, served over pasta, was delicious.

This week Crystal, one of our meat vendors, brought along a baby pig.  He upped the cuteness quotient at the market considerably.  She set him up in a little pen, along with his stuffed bunny (what did I say about cuteness?).  Here’s the best picture I could get, as he spent a fair amount of time napping/rooting around under the straw:

this little piggie went to market

You can’t really see it but his tail was not a corkscrew;  it looked like a little black licorice whip. Maybe they get curly when they get older.  Directly above his head they were setting out samples of pulled pork (very tasty, by the way) and it got me to thinking about the disconnect between us and our food–I know this isn’t exactly new ground, there’s been a lot written about this lately–but I did wonder, how do you reconcile the cute animals who on a smaller, family run farm have names (Crystal is running a contest to name this pig) and personalities, with what ends up on your plate?  (One option, of course, is to not eat meat, but I’m not one of those people.  My philosophy is to buy high quality meat raised organic/sustainable and enjoy it as an occasional meal.)

I ended up talking about this with another vendor whose farm raises animals for her own families’ consumption only.  She admitted that she does feel a pang when they are sent off to the butcher, but she also stressed that she believes it’s her job to give these animals a good life, in all senses of the word, while they are in her care.  Not a stance that vegetarians may agree with, but it made sense to me.  And being able to know how my food (animal or non) is raised is feeling more and more important to me!  It’s one reason I like being a manager at the market, I love being able to discuss this kind of stuff with the vendors.

Fyi, this little piggie won’t be heading off the farm anytime soon–he’s destined to be a breeding boar who will grow to about 900 pounds, ie bigger than a Volkswagen.