The “I have no idea what to call this post” post
Expenditures: $20 (cash) on food at Momofuku with a group of fellow food studies grads, one prof and a visitor whose name I do not recall, but has recently published a book on Bengli food. My mental discussion of this expenditure eerily resembles a previous post (What happens if you never accept invitations to socialize with your collegues? How do you handle wanting to not spend a lot of money in group eating situations? What does it mean when a restaurant is so hip that they give you crappy service and dried out buns? Not to mention clearing your plates and threatening to make you eat foie gras in bowls? Or my favorite, taking away your water glass before they return the check?)
$28 (credit) on a big bag of soil and a variety of seeds: radishes, carrots, basil, dill, ’survivor’ parsley, calendula, summer squash, larkspur and snapdragons. All to fulfill a vision of my own little green rebellion, which I plan on sharing with as many NFSPH students who come to the activity I’m planning for April 16th. Last summer I boldly decided that I was a gardener, and after leaving that surprisingly productive plot of sun-drenched Illinois behind, decided that every summer needed to be blessed by green things growing. Urban gardening, however, threatens to require significantly more effort, and a bit of law-bending. For example, where to put my now-budding radish plants when I transplant them? Here are my options:
* My fire-escape (technically something that should be clear and accessible)
* The rooftop (warm, sunny, and technically not somewhere my landlord wants me to be)
*The backyard (see rooftop)
*Some abandoned lot somewhere (someone else’s landlord doesn’t want me there, either)
Additional challenges include finding pots and learning to effectively capture rainwater. Luckily, a fabulous hint from Mr Brown Thumb reminded me that all of the trash in my house could double as other things. So now I have my own ghetto gardens, made from strawberry containers, 2 litre pop bottles and old cardboard egg cartons. Huzzah!
Urban gardening may carry with it the ultimate version of “hip,” in the sense that it requires a bit of rebellion against the ingrained hegemonic model of acquiring food from outside sources. However, limited space, limited sunshine, and an army of squirrels can certainly rain on anyone’s parade. That said, here’s to urban gardening!