Keepin' it local

I wish I could remember how I found out about Founding Farmers in Washington, D.C., because dining there was an almost literally life-changing experience. I doubt I sought out its niche, because before we went there I didn't even know that genre existed. No, it must have been while I was scouring list after list of D.C. restaurant reviews that something about Founding Farmers caught my eye. And I'm glad it did, because it was my first chance to dine at a farm-to-table restaurant.

The concept of farm-to-table is simple enough, so logical that you might think more restaurants than just a specialty niche would operate that way. The idea is just this: a restaurant forms close connections with local farms and producers, so their food comes straight from the farm to the restaurant (and your table) without needless middlemen or cross-country shipping. If you're interested in eating more locally, this is the style for you. Or even if you just want to know that the food you're about to eat is grown by an individual farmer who cares about her produce and animals, rather than a ConAgMonsanCargill feedlot nightmare, farm-to-table is a great way to feel better about what you're putting into your body.

At Founding Farmers, I kind of bucked convention by ordering fish, a Sole Meuniere, but it was locally caught by area fishermen and paired with locally grown potatoes and something both green and local (I want to say broccoli, but I could be wrong). Stacia opted to skip all that uppity pretense and got a burger and a beer, also from an area beef producer with local toppings and fries. It was some of the tastiest food I'd had while out to eat, and I was just blown away by the fact that it was all sourced from the greater D.C. area. I returned home, to the more fertile fields of central Iowa, and I was majorly bummed that we had no analogue here.

Or so I thought, until last night. Unfortunately it took a nudge from Groupon (who's still on probation with me from their Super Bowl ad) to take a chance on a restaurant called Mojo's on 86th. I like to think of myself as a Des Moines expert of sorts, but I'd never been out to visit Mojo's. Granted, it is kind of tucked away on the north side of Johnston, a suburb I'd long since written off as haven of reheated chain restaurant slop. Who knew I'd find my farm-to-table restaurant hidden a half mile up the road from Texas Roadhouse and Ruby Tuesday?

On being seated, we immediately noticed something a little, well, different about the menu. Across the top of the page, front and center, was a listing of all the local producers that Mojo's contracts with for their meals. I was happy to recognize some favorites from the downtown Farmer's Market, little guys like Berry Patch Farm, Foxhollow Farms, Iowa Farm Families and Turtle Creek Farms. Further down, almost every item on the menu lists the source for its main component or two. I opted to go for the Lamb Meatballs over spaetzle, from a place called Wirth Farms that I'd not heard of, but learned is just north of Ames, so quite close to home. Stacia opted for the Pork Medallions made from Iowa Farm Families Duroc pork - a heritage breed, more or less an "heirloom" pork. Hers also came with roasted carrots and a chorizo-raisin bread pudding.

Taste-wise, I'd love to say it was the best thing I'd ever eaten, but it's just a touch rough around the edges compared to Founding Farmers. Mine ended up being a fresh take on spaghetti and meatballs, so it was a bit basic, but still tasted quite good. Probably wasn't optimal ordering on my part. Stacia's pork medallions had  good flavor, but were a bit well done for my preference. Trichinosis has been all but eradicated, so it's pretty darn safe (and much more delicious) to eat pork medium-rare, especially if you can trust its source. On a return trip, I'd be sure to ask for the pork med-rare to ensure it's as juicy as I like it. But where my entree was fairly basic, hers had a very unique flavor profile, with the salty-spicy chorizo balanced out by a nice honey-cream sauce and the sweetness of roasted carrots. If they'd pulled it from the heat a minute or two earlier, I would have been super jealous for ordering the wrong thing. As it was we were both reasonably pleased with taste, and thrilled that we'd supported the closest thing to a farm-to-table restaurant Des Moines has to offer.

One final note: for dessert we got a rhubarb cheesecake, which just screams local and in season, and tasted phenomenal to boot. We never ate rhubarb when I was growing up, but I've grown to love its in-your-face tartness, especially paired with the smooth creaminess of a cheesecake. That's one to try to replicate at home.

So we left, stomachs full, pockets a bit lighter (it wasn't exactly cheap), but extremely satisfied. It's a sad commentary on our food system today that the concept of bringing food directly from local farms to nearby restaurants is a niche market and not simply the way things are done. We drove back past the Texas Roadhouse on our way back home, and I had to shake my head at the packed parking lots. So many people eager to throw down money for a factory farmed, feedlot finished steak that came off a cow raised "in USA/Mexico." No joke, that's what many of the labels say - they can't even confirm that your steak came from this country, while just up the road is the "fancy" place where your steak is less than 50 miles from home. Not to mention the fact that they get to munch on grass rather than corn and other cows' waste like their feedlot brethren.

It would be great to be able to change that system, but it's part of a whole complicated mess of farm subsidies to keep people growing commodity crops, and the might of a few agribusiness giants dominating the landscape to shift animal rearing into food factories. For now I'm happy that I'm able to source my own ingredients from my garden, the farmer's market and my grass-fed beef buyer's club. And as of last night, even on days when I don't want to cook, I now have an option for a dinner that doesn't come with a side of doubt or regret. That's a good thing, and I can only hope that it starts to take off.