I admit it. I took a ride in a car. I feel strange about it, as if I am breaking the purity of a bike trip, but after Vermont, all omens were pointing to not biking over the ominous White Mountains in New Hampshire: long stretches of wilderness, an eagerness to get to New Brunswick and Nova Scotia in good time, and busy roads full of logging trucks and inexperienced RV drivers were all threats people warned me of. I was humming and hawing about the whole thing when Chuck, the man I was staying with up in Hardwick, introduced me to someone who just happened to be driving to Maine on Wednesday with two of his daughters, and “did I want a ride?” Ummm… Yes.

A momentary pause in the downpour of the day.

And so, yesterday afternoon, off we went, my bike on a rack, while I mended clothes in the shotgun seat as Tim, his daughters Keavan and Walker, and I all set off to the east. As soon as we pulled out of the driveway, the heavens opened up and it proceeded to pour like I’ve seldom seen. Sometimes it rained so hard I was silently praying Tim would pull over until the worst subsided. It did let up here and there, long enough for us to dip our toes in a mountain-top pond and enjoy the magesty of the surrounding peaks bearing down upon us. It seems I couldn’t have picked a better time to accept a ride. What would have taken me three days took us three hours and with thundershowers forecasted for the next few days, I’m sure I would have spent more time seeking refuge than seeing what was 10 feet in front of me.

None of this was part of my plan. Mind you, the notion of a “plan” is becoming increasingly laughable and futile. Had I not taken the ride, I wouldn’t have spent the night in a hotel with my newly adopted family! (Geez, bike touring is awesome!) And I wouldn’t have been deeply inspired in the Portland food scene (more on that later).

It was this go with the wind attitude that also gave me my first real slow food experience. Not only was it slow food but I had to work damn hard for it. It was my first time eating lobster.

Our hotel shuttle dropped us off at the Portland wharf, where we scurried through the deluge onto the refuge provided by a seafood restaurant, conveniently…on a boat. I guess if the world flooded we’d be safe right? I considered bringing some animals onto the ark while I was at it.

Having never tried lobster before, I dutifully ordered it, and the glossy red exoskeletal crustacean arrived steaming on my plate. Its claws looked intimidating…which is where the nutcracker came in handy, while I abided by the strict instructions on ‘deconstruction’ from Tim on my left and Keaven on my right. Piece by piece, like a careful (if not sometimes sloppy) excavation, I slowly enjoyed this East Coast delicacy. But unlike many a “slow food” dinner banquet, it was all hands and tools on deck, and a wetnap to finish like a triumphant throwing of the towel.

I must say, that as a recently vegan-gone-ominivore, picking apart an animal so crudely was uncomfortable. But if you think about it, most of our meat comes to us pre-sliced, diced, cleaned and sheened for us…so that the meat we end up consuming is barely linked to the animal from where it came. Nevermind that most animal products we consume are composites of many pigs, chickens, cows… take your pick…with additives and enhancers tossed in for good measure. So a lobster in the hand is about as close as you can get to a ‘whole food’ in the meat eating world. And when in Maine, it sure doesn’t get much more local than lobster.

Out of the Restaurant and into the Community (Portland, Day 2)

Tucked away from the big overpriced tourist restaurants on the port, are a number of small subtle projects creating big changes.

Having found myself in Portland somewhat unexpectedly, I took the afternoon to wander the streets and stumbled upon “Local Sprouts“, a cooperatively owned café and restaurant that buys 80% local ingredients and is 100% committed to strengthening community around food.

The space is adorned with local art, a volunteer built cob “booth” and many friendly faces who are keen to talk food with me. Meara Smith, one of the worker-owners, takes the time to chat about some of the food projects happening that are making food more sustainable and accessible in the Portland area.

While Local Sprouts has only had a storefront for a couple months, they have operated a catering compnay for years prior, which coordianted one of the only Community Supported Kitchens (CSKs) in the U.S. Just like a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture), which distrbutes fresh locally produced goods to households, a CSK cooks up a meal made with local ingredients for shareholders once a week that they can pick up and enjoy at home.

Now in their new space on Congress St., they plan to involve the community in their annual task of preserving the harvest to keep their kitchen full of local fare in the winter. So come the fall, expect to see canning, freezing, and ferminting workshops offered here.

Meara goes on to tell me about a few other neat Portland proejcts – one of which is called Cultivating Community – and do I want to come help cook a community meal with her at the program’s farm tonight? In true Bike Tour fashion, great opportunities seem to appear out of thin air. And so, I answer “when and where?”

A community dinner at Turkey Hill Farm

An hour later Meara and I are driving out to the Twilight Dinner at Turkey Hill Farm. Cultivating Communities coordinates this rural farm site as well as an urban garden, where at-risk youth get involved in growing their own food. They also run an Immigrant Farmer Training program. Overall, many of the people they work with are New Americans and Cultivating Community really helps these newcomers do just that – cultivate community. The culinary youth program even assists the teens in creating value added products with the veggies they produce, and they use the Local Sprouts kitchen to do it. Talk about community-based food systems.

There’s nothing like learning about food systems and community change than putting yourself in the thick of it. I leave soon after twilight, well fed on food and inspiration, pledging to return soon so I can dig a little deeper into what Cultivating Community, and their partners like Local Sprouts, are growing here in Portland.