Thomas Reid Chicken

Driven by the duty to deliver, seduced by the deal of the century, I loaded up the Time Machine early Saturday morning in preparation for a veritably epic trek.
Destination: Thomas Reid Farms in Langley. I'd only seen their website, where they offer boxes of cornish hen for $50. I'd done some loose math and worked it out to about $2.50/lb... for certified organic, free range, locally family-farmed chickens! This kind of deal demands a pilgrimage.
Arriving at King George Station, via Skytrain, avec bicyclette, I donned my Viking suit and ventured into the unknown in pursuit of pillaged poultry (at $2.50/lb, I almost feel guilty about taking so much chicken).
I cycled under persistent Fraser Highway rainfall, through the Green Timbers Urban Forest. I cycled down the steep hill past Fleetwood Centre, up the gentle slope beyond the Surrey Golf Course... into the trough of Surrey's farmland, back up the hill to old Langley City. Turning left at the new Casino, I turned onto 56 ave, past the Langley Bypass, past the Langley Airport, into the Agricultural Land Reserve, into the land of the Lord.
I was taken into a lush, idyllic shire... a land of meadows and mist, of cow patties and gravel lanes, and gently rolling hills. These did not feel so gentle on my return, with 30lbs of tiny chickens hanging on my back wheel.
Just over the creek, past Clovermeadow and Wagonwheel Crescents, I saw the sign: Certified Organic Thomas Reid Farm, turned the corner, and found no storefront. I found chicken houses and pastures, for sure, but nothing but sheds and farmhouses otherwise. I called the number on the website, and was answered with simply, "Hello?"
"I'm trying to get to Thomas Reid Farm. I made an appointment with Brad earlier in the week - I'm looking for organic cornish hens."
"Brad will be home in a few minutes, just come on up the driveway."
I cycled into the basketball court of a family home with teenage boys, and their mother greeted me at the door. "Hi, I'm Karen..." she saw my bike in the driveway and the bicycle helmet on my head... "you want a whole case?"
She led me inside to sit me down to a fantastic cup of tea, and hear about my trek from North Vancouver. Her eldest son David soon entered the room, apparently still a little worse for wear from Friday night. "You came all the way from North Van?? You're crazy, man. Next time you want some chicken just let me know, I'm out there alot diving and climbing." Maybe we can work something out -- but I'd definitely tip a man generously, who would bring me this much great poultry for $50. Brad finally came in, with a bluetooth on his ear and a large box of chicken held by zapstraps in his hand. "I heard you biked in all the way from North Van, so I brought you the biggest box I have. 13.9kg."
My jaw drops at the sight of 17 individually wrapped and cleaned, healthy little chickens. After a moment's awe and reverence, I pull a single red bill out of my wallet, and incredulously hand it to Brad. Thanks were exchanged, and I had to fight the urge to tell him how much more he could charge. $50 for 17 hens... less than $3/hen... just under $4/kg, about $2/lb. Significantly more weight than I'd budgeted for... I couldn't believe that the primary protein for up to 17 meals would only cost me $50. Produced by a local family in a natural, ethical way... and all guests would agree, delicious. The real star of this meal was Thomas Reid Farm. Thank you.

East End Food Co-op

In need of culinary inspiration and an entry-level epic ride, I strapped my panniers on The Time Machine and hauled ass over the Second Narrows. I cruised suburban neighborhoods, admiring lush Mediterranean gardens but too pressed for time to whip out the Nikon for each green thumbs up. I finally made it to Broadway & Commercial, only to discover from friendly neighborhood information officers that my quarry was well down the hill, beyond 1^st. Commercial is a very colorful neighborhood to cycle past... 'nuff cute alternative girls. But I digress.

Parking my panniers near the entrance with all the others (2 other pairs!), I cruised the store for a couple of minutes before commencing photodocumentation, which I figure is the best way of displaying the variety and prices you can expect of the produce. Mostly organic, location of production made note of, prices better than Capers etc. but nothing amazing. A few standouts: wide selection of organic meats and sausages, noteably local, organic (which in terms of poultry, always means they are pastured or “free range”) chicken breasts for $6/lb – boneless and skinless. I like the skins and bones so I'd rather go for a whole roaster or fryer, but I know a lot of you like your chicken fatless and easy. This is the deal for you.

So after a couple of minutes of shooting, I was approached by a woman who asked brusquely, “Can I help you?” I explained to her my intentions of photodocumenting her store for my little blog, and she was very helpful. I've heard that grocery stores don't like you photographing their shelves, but Roisin was entirely cool with it, and explained to me how the labels work on the bulk bins. Green labels mean organically grown, and blue labels mean conventionally grown. I noticed that they said “naturally grown” and she explained that some suppliers, though not strictly organic, nevertheless reduce their reliance on chemicals by engaging in simply natural practices like crop rotation, or like the aboriginal “three sisters” approach – plant crops closely together that benefit each other, rather than vast monocultures that require chemical crutches. Makes sense. Cool.

Some other cool stuff: bulk organic maple syrup (in a huge jug with a tap!), good deals on wholesome bread (check next time you shop: everything has “mono- and di-glycerides” and at least a few other dough conditioners and preservatives in them... these Uprising Breads ingredients would each be recognized by my great-grandmother, for $3/loaf), and 5kg sacks of organic flour. Restaurants should always use organic flour – it's almost the same price as chemically-treated flour, and obviously a better choice holistically. Walk behind a wall into the bulk corner – bulk organic sugar, sea salt, himalayan salt, nuts, dried fruits, and of course... granola.

As I prepared to pay for my bread, produce, and chicken, I expected to be encouraged to purchase two shares in the coop ($20) to become a member... but one of the staffers let me use their membership number, since it was my first time. Thanks, EEFC. I'll for sure be back to stock up on hard-to-find items like organic garlic and ginger, and scan the sales.

Eat Local

I hate... let me repeat, HATE it when customers stand at the door of the restaurant before we open. It's first thing in the morning (to me), I haven't had my double latte yet, and the 11:30am opening time is clearly posted on the door. If it's not 11:30 yet, go away. You're not a puppy dog waiting to be let in out of the rain.

This morning at 10:30 sharp, such an expectant individual gazed through the glass of the front door as I was tucking my shirt in, and belting up. Not only am I obligated to go deal with this person while I'm still warming up to humanity, but she saw me stuffing my tattooed mitts in my pants. How rude. As I open the door, I immediately notice the generous basket of colorful produce in her arms. “I'm here for the business networking luncheon?” She was an hour early. “I'm with Green Earth Organics.” So she's not rude after all – just a little spaced out. Luckily, shes aware enough to get the hint that I'm far from ready to host her, so she walks off to enjoy the park for an hour. I bet she enjoyed that hour, too. Plenty of trees to hug.

The rest of the day is just like any other. Big business luncheon in one room, middle aged professionals and retirees in the other. Bitching about the Olympics with Allan from Spirit Lifters, and mimicking trumpet sounds with Robin from EcoLab while he fixed my glass washer (Chef KB took the broken chemical pump and smashed it against a rock to extract the solenoid, because she hoardes copper wire... only you, Chef). After the networking luncheon, Danielle of the Earth approaches me on her way out and offers me a pamphlet for her company. We end up talking about Slow Food, Carlo Petrino and community-supported agriculture (CSA). Her company is similar in concept, sourcing as many locally produced varieties as possible, but also offering imported organic products (from soy milk to sausages). They deliver parcels of organic produce to your door, once every week or two. Part of the idea is that you're getting this produce more directly from the source than if a large company like Safeway bought it from a large produce distributor like Sysco, who in turn bought it from a large farm conglomerate who in turn bought it from the farm, where it was mass produced. The profits from your purchase are traced more directly back to the farmers, not skimmed by a dozen distributors and middlemen along the way. This produce is much more easily traceable to farms that offers fair wages to producers – which is where we come in. That's why we purchase on a prescribed regular basis, to offer more consistency to the producers – they deserve job security just as much as we do.
Whether you believe that it is your responsibility as a consumer to invest in the dignity and security of local food growers, organic items are measurably healthier than their chemically-treated dopplegangers. And their taste – exists. It's funny how chemical engineers can make bacon aroma that's more one-dimensionally bacon-y than the real thing, and how artificial grape flavor taste way more grape-y than most grapes (except Okanagan coronation grapes... WOW). But the difference between a chemical-pumped tomato and its organic alternative is like the difference between Boston Pizza and Brick Oven Pizzeria. Between Joey's and il Jiardino. Cactus Club and le Crocodile. And if you can't tell the difference, then I don't know how you even found this blog. Buy local.