I acquire my own food by a variety of means–gardening, fishing, hunting, foraging. And I preserve it for year-round use by canning, drying and freezing. If this is something you would like to do, or do more of, my hope is that I can provide useful information and inspiration about what is possible. If it’s something you’re already doing, maybe you can teach me some things. People have been coming up with ways to get their own food for a long time, so there’s a lot to learn.
It’s important to note that for the bulk of human history, all people knew how to feed themselves using the plants and animals living around them. There is a satisfying sense of autonomy and freedom to be found in reclaiming those skills. Anybody can do it. Almost all your ancestors did it (except maybe a few recent generations) and so can you. Even if you have learned to be scared of certain aspects of handling your own sustenance.
Our modern American fear of food is paradoxical. We wonder if we can trust food that hasn’t been produced in a tightly regulated environment, but when another outbreak of salmonella or e coli requires another recall of factory food, it further justifies our fear. Our fear of food is also cultural. Our attitude toward wild foods (especially mushrooms) seems justified because of some toxic species, but it’s almost entirely a cultural attitude. People the world over and throughout human memory have been able to learn which species are safe and which are not, and many cultures embrace foraging in a way that we historically have not.
That is not to say that you should go eat whatever you can find. I only started eating wild mushrooms after I found out that a fellow I work with has a PhD in mycological taxonomy and was willing to help me. And even then, I only eat a few species that are hard to get wrong. The same thinking applies to eating wild plants. There is a certain maturity of thought that you must cultivate in order to prevent hurting yourself, and it has to do with making a clear assessment of how certain you are of what you think you know. Some things are very difficult to accurately identify and if you get them wrong, you get sick or die because they have toxic look-alikes. Some things are relatively easy to be certain about, and I only fool with those– when in doubt, toss it out. I would suggest that you do the same, and that you find a local expert who can help you directly.
Of necessity my knowledge is local. I live on a homestead in North Alabama. What I can grow or forage and when I can grow or forage those things is a function of where I am. So much of this stuff has to do with timing. When are the bream on bed? When do persimmons get ripe? When do the deer rut? When do you plant collards? When do morels come up? I think if you’re in Zone 7 anywhere east of the Mississippi, much of the timing of what I do will apply to you, more or less. I don’t really know the timing on any of this stuff anywhere else, and I’m not going to pretend to.
One last thing. This is about what you could do, not what you should do. Not all of it is for everybody. Maybe you like to grow vegetables, but you don’t want to kill animals for food. That’s great, and I hope I can give you some useful ideas for your garden. Just because I am trying to weave all of these disparate food-related skills into one whole sustainable low-waste lifestyle doesn’t mean that you have to. Take what you can use and leave the rest.