Iāve long been a fan of weekly farmerās markets, homemade skin salves, and buying the kombucha made closer to me., but that doesnāt mean I havenāt learned a heckuva lot the past few weeks in my current 100-mile experiment. Iāve learned that even though we live in Texas, for whatever reason thereās still a brand of tortilla chips imported from New Jersey sitting on my grocery storeās shelves, the woman selling well-reputed locally-made laundry soap opens her shop whenever she feels like it (which isnāt often), and the couple Iāve bought our milk from are in their late 70s and are scared of their own website.
Iām so glad I know all these particulars, and I never would have had I not embarked on this experiment.
To ease into this idea, Iām giving myself lots of grace to wade into the waters gradually. After all, Iāve got a book releasing in a few weeks which means I donāt have much spare time these days, on top of which I have the usual to-dos of essays to grade and soups to stir. Iām sitting squarely in the outer concentric circle of my ultimate bullās eye of getting the vast majority of our supplies, community, and recreation from our hundred-mile radius.
Right now, that outer circle looks like a focus on distribution rather than origin.
Iāll take those tortilla chips as an example. At my local grocery store, Iāve got scores of options for this ubiquitous Texas staple: I could buy the popular brand from San Antonio, a city nestled comfortably in my 100-mile radius. I could buy the slightly more expensive, smaller brand that makes better chips from San Marcos, even closer to me and on the way to San Antonio. I could opt for the chips made literally in front of me, by the bakery within the grocery store (and dang, those are good chips). I could buy the smaller brand that Iām sure means well enough but is simply from New Jersey. Or I could go with the internationally-known brands made somewhere in a factory here in the U.S. but are distributed all over the globe.
Itās easy enough to cross off the huge conglomerate brands as well as the Yankee varieties (for several reasons beyond just my 100-mile experiment if weāre being honest). The three options left available to me are all good choices, so it just depends on what Iām in the mood for, really: the bakery chips are a splurge but make great nachos, the small brand close to us makes a delicate chip thatās fantastic for snacking, and the San Antonio chips are a good, reliable standby. I really canāt go wrong with any of them, which is why this week I went with the bakery (we had Make Your Own Nachos on the menu this weekend).