The best stuff on earth?

I am amazed at the blind trust I place in the USDA and my local grocer.

I was in the garden tonight, checking on my herbs, grabbing a few more zucchinis for the second round of bread making, and gathering a few of the adorable apples from my adorable tree. I finally got around to eating one of the apples but only after thoroughly cleaning it with soap and water. Something I never do to my fruit from the grocery store. Then, I remembered that last week, when I cooked with the zucchini, I treated the dinner with my parents as a trial run, making sure that no one got sick from the bread before I took it into work. No one wants to be responsible for a cholera outbreak in 2007. But why did I worry about this? Is my dirt dirtier?

I should rejoice in eating food that I planted and harvested myself, food that I know has never been sprayed with pesticide or weird hormones or anything, food that comes to me directly from my backyard, only being touched by a minimum number of people.

Food should be the opposite of the mail. Unlike mail, which gains luster and character with every stop, food loses a little of its earthiness and wholesomeness every time it is loaded on or off a truck. At the grocery store, I find myself drawn to the shiny, waxy, pyramids of fruit. Truth be told, though, it is so much prettier on the tree.