An Interview with Jan Greenberg
by Rosemary Fox

I met Jan Greenberg at Bread Alone in Rhinebeck, her hometown when she's not in New York City. Petite, red-haired, and bespectacled, Greenberg was sipping coffee and reading a newspaper when I arrived.

RF: Would you tell us where you grew up, and how you became a food writer?

JG: I basically grew up in Westchester County, and after college I moved to the City. My first career was as an entertainment press agent--in Manhattan for about twenty-five years. I guess my work as a food writer began when the greenmarkets happened in the City. My husband and I used to go food shopping after work, then go home and make these meals. It seems a little hokey, but I think it was a broccoli rabe from Migliorelli Farms that did it! My husband Lester and I just weren't used to truly fresh produce . . . and this broccoli rabe! I remember cooking it and saying, "Oh, my God!" I had never tasted anything like it before. And suddenly food became even more important to us than it had ever been. And then, about fifteen years ago, we bought this weekend place upstate. And the irony was that the same food that was being grown a mile from our house was being rushed down to the City greenmarkets, and we couldn't buy it up here, where we wanted to relax and entertain. It was crazy!

RF: Ironic!

JG: Yeah! Like most City people, we didn't get the connection between food and where it really comes from. It's just not relevant to that life. But once we were up here part-time, the complexities of the issues began to interest me.

RF: What issues?

JG: Things like producing real food, and what that entails. And farmland vs. development, which is worth more? That it was really easier to get food from 3,000 miles away--from California--than to get it from here, ninety miles away from New York City! So I began to want to change what I was doing. And I started writing a column on local farms for the Taconic Press's Weekend magazine. Which led to a lot of other things.

RF: What year are we talking about?

JG: Early 90s. You know, it was really serendipitous, because it was just at that time that the Hudson Valley was sort of resuming its place as an agricultural area. The farms here were beginning some direct marketing to local customers. Things were changing! And the more I spoke to farmers, the more I realized that this work is a calling; that you don't do this for money. The work is unbelievably hard. One farmer said to me something like, "I have a partner; his name is God. And he's a very unstable partner!" I mean, I really can't think of another way of life where you have less control.

RF: Yes!

JG: There really is something admirable about people who care so much--it becomes addictive being around them! So I became very involved in keeping farms going--not only because the food is so great, but because these people's commitment is just so wonderful. And another thing is-and this is really true-that once land is out of production, it never comes back. It's lost forever to development. People talk about "preserving" land, but we have to go a step further, and keep it in production...

RF: We can't afford to keep so much "forever wild." The land's got to pay...

JG: Right.

RF: Would you talk about CSAs?

JG: Community Supported Agriculture is exploding! From one or two to dozens in the past five or so years. CSA started in Japan and the first one in America started in Massachusetts.

RF: What is CSA?

JG: It's basically when people pay up-front for a season's fresh produce. This gives them a weekly supply of the freshest stuff imaginable, and also supports the grower with an assured market, and cash at the time he needs it most--in the winter, to buy seed, for example. The process extends to meat and dairy, too. It requires a little more planning and flexibility from the buyer, but I feel it's well worth it.

RF: Are there any other benefits to being part of CSA?

JG: Yes! Community! CSAs tend to encourage farm visits from buyers. Some make work an optional part of the package. They usually put out newsletters with recipes that tell members how to use the food they're buying, and up-dates on the growing season and farming issues that really inform, connect, and hopefully politicize subscribers.

RF: What about restaurants that use locally-produced food?

JG: I think the best ones are owner-operated. Oh, I also wanted to mention a couple of places that I omitted in the book (I just didn't manage to get them all): Locust Tree and The Main Course, which is both a restaurant and caterer. Both in New Paltz.

RF: Do your friends in the City understand any of this?

JG: You know, I often run the risk of seeming a bit crazy, because I'm so aware of what we're eating. . . . Seasonality, for instance. . . . And I don't buy any supermarket meat any more. I buy my own pig every year. I buy a veal calf. And venison. I mean, I often go see my pig; I go see my calf. Yes, some of my friends do think I'm slightly nuts. . .

RF: Are the animals humanely raised?

JG: Oh, sure! Why do you think I visit them? To check that they're okay!

RF: Some would feel a bit squeamish about this. . .

JG: This is an interesting issue. Meat is very political! I really feel that if you're going to eat it, you can't pretend that it wasn't killed and butchered for you. I saw my first deer butchered, and it was hard. But, I mean, the animal's done something for me, and it deserves my awareness and attention. . . This consciousness I have of . . . food origins, I have to sometimes be careful talking about it. People's eyes tend to glaze over when I get started. . .

RF: I understand. What would you say to people who see this upstate area primarily as an "escape"?

JG: My press agent tells me that more tourists are up here now for the agri-attractions than just to "be in the country." I think this is great! I'm all for agri-tourism.

RF: What's that?

JG: Farmers doing things like, "You-Pick," Halloween hayrides and corn mazes. When I first started coming here fifteen years ago, it was like the old Prince Spaghetti commercial that showed that fake newsreel of people picking spaghetti from the "spaghetti" trees. It was true! People just didn't have a clue about how their food was produced.

RF: You mentioned "seasonality" a while ago. . .

JG: Well, it's simple: in-season tastes totally different from out-of-season. The fact that we're all so used to being out of rhythm with our own seasons brings me to the larger issue of our growing incompatibility with the rest of nature. We generally feel overwhelmed by the bad state of the world--the degradation of the environment. I really wanted this book to tell people the great news of where they can get what and how easy and fun it is. But it also turned into something of a "message" book that points up the issues of our agricultural world. People don't think they can possibly make a difference. But in this way they can! They can support the people who do the real grunt work! They can make a beginning. . . . And it is really easy and fun!

RF: The book is peppered with great profiles of the farms and farmers themselves. Would you say a little about one or two of them?

JG: Oh, they're all so great; I'm on the spot. For instance, the Migliorelli family, they're just the greatest: they have such enthusiasm and they're growing the greatest stuff in the world! Or take Ronnybrook Farms. I love the Osofskys. I'd love to be one of their cows! They all have names. If it's chilly, they put something cozy under their feet. Did you ever taste their yogurt?? The New York Times calls Ronnybrook "the Dom Perignon of milk."

RF: Is there anything else you'd like to talk about?

JG: I did want to say that I wish more local institutions--like hospitals and schools --would buy locally. Vassar is currently the only institution in this area that buys food here in season.

RF: In conclusion, then . . .

JG: In conclusion, I hope this book gives people all kinds of pleasure--from the belly to the spirit.