Always on the lookout for
things to do with the kids on the weekend, today we found the
Rogers Park NeighborFood Fest, an event which, it was said, would be devoted to sustainable agriculture, family farming and such concerns of concern to the perpetually concerned community of Rogers Park. One woman, at least, was so overcome by concern that she had to have an emergency healing session with a trained didgeridoo player:
In the event, what we found was a rather small gathering of tables featuring a number of familiar faces from the farmers' markets and so on. On the plus side, the event was a chance to buy a new jar of Chicago Honey Co-op honey, pick up flyers from a couple of CSAs, discover a new employee-owned bakery with the not entirely appetizing name of Bleeding Heart Bakery* (but very nice looking desserts-- I especially liked the look of strawberries in rose jelly), and so on.
* No website yet, but you can email them at the just too, too perfect address "pastryforpeace@hotmail.com." While I'm making fun, the even more hilariously named Soda Justice was, alas, a no-show so far as I could see.
On the minus side, it wouldn't be a left-leaning event if the slightest hint of pleasure and fun wasn't immediately put a stop to and the speechifying begun. Sure enough, as we arrived right at noon, the music (by "Liberals in Cowboy Boots") came to a halt and we were treated to an anti-Walmart harangue by a natural pork producer. Ironically, the table most directly opposite the stage was occupied by a vegan organization with brochures loudly declaring, in the best orthodoxy-enforcing tradition of the left, that You Can't Eat Meat And Save the Planet At the Same Time, or something like that. I'm sure they enjoyed a front row seat for hearing how he raises his hogs naturally for slaughter; given the hostility they must have felt, there may well have been a CSAs vs. Vegans rumble later in the afternoon.
A moment later, our collective gullet was pried open, and we were forcefed an appearance by Alderman Joe "Phooey Gras" Moore, who loudly took credit for the foie gras ban now in the works, and was rewarded with the cheers of all of 20 or 30 voters, as well as the boos of one guy and his two kids who were, however, by that point watching the skateboarders some yards away. Our best bet for not having to hear any more was the drum circle, and we spent a few minutes watching the raucous drumming, some of it performed by people dressed as foods, though it was hard to tell precisely what their political positions on such foods were. I'm pretty sure that the man dressed as a giant strawberry was pro-strawberry (but probably anti-Walmart strawberry), but hard to say if the extremely tall tuba-playing steer was a pro-grassfeeding steer or anti-meat-eating one. (Fact is, if I'd gone up to him it's unlikely I could have gotten the question out before quoting the line from Raising Arizona, "Son, you got a panty on your head.")
About ten minutes later, we had a burning need for a cheeseburger and fries, and soon found ourselves at Bill's. The Rogers Park NeighborFood Fest, I fear, suffers from a built-in contradiction, where the pleasures of food, the delights of eating and the noble work of raising it, run headlong into the impulses of dietary correctness, which seek to make sure you know that no matter what you're eating, you're harming yourself and the planet somehow. It will be interesting to see who wins out over the years to come; and how they react to my application for a table as a small urban sustainable employee-owned family foie gras co-op.
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