essay: conscious consumption in the time of covid

Conscious consumption is a goal of many, especially when it comes to food. As recently as a few months ago, my grocery shopping was guided by a commitment to minimizing my environmental impact. This meant buying food with no packaging, eating mostly vegan, and not wasting food. I rode my cargo bike to the nearest grocery chain store and filled my jars and cloth bags with the bulk goods and produce my family of five would need for a week.  I prided myself on being almost “zero waste” and making many things from scratch: bread, yogurt, nut milks and butters.

I did not shop at Costco. Other than a few jars of lentils, I didn’t stock much dried food in our pantry. But then, in early March, the bulk bins suddenly “closed.” They were replaced with items in pre-portioned plastic bags. The store asked customers to stop using their own containers. My world was turned upside down. And, worse, my flour jar was empty.

I was genuinely flummoxed: where did one buy raisins if not from the bulk section? Pepitas? What about flaxmeal; does that come in a plastic bag somewhere? All the staples my family was used to consuming seemed elusive. I couldn’t find them in bulk, or even in packaging for that matter. 

My main concern was, of course, the unsettling news about COVID-19. But, practically, I needed to feed my family. Amidst these worrying reports and “stay at home” orders, a glimmer of hope: I saw on social media that several Community Supported Agriculture options were providing local delivery. I immediately signed up for two, and felt the tension in my chest ease slightly with the possibility that I’d found a way to support the local food economy and nourish my family.

Now, once a week, the ultimate gift appears on my doorstep: minimally-packaged local produce. I peer into the boxes and then strategically plan our meals. I cook the most perishable vegetables first. I am careful not to waste anything edible. We’ve enjoyed wild mushrooms cooked in farm-fresh butter, sautéed carrot tops, muffins baked from bruised apples, and sour-milk pancakes. We are surviving without the bananas to which we were accustomed. I am pleased I’ve always known how to deliciously prepare those lentils I had in my pantry.

As for my flour jar, a generous Costco-loving friend gifted me a 25-pound bag. One of the CSAs offers bags of hard red wheat flour, too. It turns out flaxmeal and raisins aren’t too hard to find in packaging. The carbon footprint of that plastic waste is counteracted by the sustainable local agriculture I am supporting. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to return to the bulk bins. But I do know I’ll be keeping these CSA subscriptions indefinitely.