Only two more hours until the Eat Local Challenge, or as Husband has nicknamed it, the Eat Local Horror Challenge of Death.
Our dinner tonight consisted of takeout pizza, French fries, and ice cream. It seemed like the responsible thing to do. If we had been smart, we would have ordered only things that are impossible to make out of local ingredients, like Maker’s Mark. And grapefruit. Maybe a big bowl of rice. But, alas, we are not smart. I couldn’t even get organized about being disorganized. At least we ordered in from New Zealand.
So, Eat Local Challenge, it’s just you and me. And by me, I mean me and my unsuspecting family. And by you, I mean you and all of the other thousands of people who are participating. It’s still personal.