Wheatberries

Amazing, isn't it, how a single conversation can open up so much untrodden ground? In Ecology of Eating, we were plastering a classroom with all the food we eat (not literally...just written on paper) and I got to talking about rice milk vs. cow milk, which lead to a short, but amazing conversation on eating locally in Bellingham. This is how I discovered my idiocy (well, discovered it again-- these sort of discoveries seem to come in cycles...really, really repetitive ones).

This thing, this concept of eating locally is supposedly quite a basic one. But I've discovered that I'm sustainable within the sphere of my own knowledge. There's so much more I could and should be doing. But this wonderful, wonderful conversation opened my eyes, lead me to new horizons, to speak in cliche. One thing I learned about? Wheatberries.

See, I have this obsession with this cereal, specifically Heritage O's, of which I occasionally rave about on my other blog. There're the...the...epitome of delicious. They're are made of spelt, quinoa and kamut, I think. An extremely tasty cereal that stays crunchy to the last bite (and makes chewing so loud you can be heard from across the room).

They've reached cereal-nirvana...or maybe this makes more sense: when I eat them, I reach cereal-nirvana. So...that sounds a bit odd, coming from me, even. But in other words, they're really good. And relatively regional (produced in Richmond, BC, though the ingredients are far flung across Canada and the US). I don't ever actually buy them myself, but make sure a few of the so-called 'eco-bags' (I'd beg to differ) make their way into the grocery basket whenever I'm at home, shopping with my mother.

But I think I have a new beau of cereal: wheatberries. Er...well, I haven't actually tried them yet, but I know I'm going to love them. I swear, I can feel it. Feel it in my bones and all that. Can already imagine them with nutbutter and my grandmother's homemade pear honey (which isn't actually honey, but extremely excellent jam)...they're going to be wonderful. They're local, in bulk, can be cooked, eaten instead of rice and all sort of wondrous things. I haven't eaten them yet, but they're the best.

(I'm going to go into some sort of hyper-depressive stupor if they don't turn out to be all I've imagined them to be...)