encommon

Eat With Me

2011-10-16T13:14:00.002-05:00

Eat with Me is a social network offering people new ways to connect with one another through sharing food and eating together. On the website, you can either create your own food event and invite new friends to join you, or sign up for an existing event where you'll meet like-minded gourmets and enjoy good eats, too.

Sounds like a kick in the pants, right? I think so. When I first caught wind of Eat With Me, I was eager to get involved. I started following @eatwithmenet on Twitter and searching for pop-up events in the Twin Cities. One thing led to the next, and I'm now a contributor to the Eat With Me blog!

I'd like to invite you to take a gander at my first post about iPhone apps for foodies. Don't get me wrong, though: I'm generally not an advocate of high-tech gadgetry in the kitchen. It's just that those apps do come in handy sometimes...

An Inspired Summer

2011-09-27T21:48:00.000-05:00

A few new and exciting projects have pulled me away from encommon. But I haven’tjumped ship! I’m eager to share a few highlights from the past two months,including our neighborhood block party, and acollaborative picnic dinner at Cedar Summit Farm with some of the best chefs ‘round town. Its been an inspiredsummer, and I hope yours was too.

More tocome very soon. Stay tuned.

The Glamor of Renting

2011-08-02T12:22:00.012-05:00

Since last January, my family has been all abuzz over a very special event slated for July 23^rd, and I’m delighted to report that it went off with only one hitch—my cousin Hillary to her fiancé Cameron. Yip!

In the weeks leading up to Hillary’s wedding, I decided I didn’t want to buy anything new to wear, but I did want to find something to jazz up my outfit. So I turned to two directories of sharing-based services here and here, and the second is where I came across Renttherunway.com.

The company offers its customers access to clothing and jewelry from over 95 designers at a 90% discount. So instead of purchasing and wearing a dress or accessory only once, multiple gala goers can use the same garment or necklace over and again. Love. Wear. Return.? Yes ma’am, sign me up.

In the market for a piece of jewelry, I initially felt uninspired (I’m quite picky). But then, seconds away from throwing in the towel, I found this piece by Miriam Haskell . . .

and I was sold.

The process of renting the cuff was surprisingly simple, as it’s nearly the same as making an online purchase. My only question was this: If I damaged the cuff, would I be responsible for paying its retail price in full? (My pocketbook wouldn’t respond fondly!) My fears were quickly assuaged by the site’s insurance policy, which covers any incidental mishaps, so I went ahead and made the booking. And just as Rent The Runway assured, the Secret Garden Cuff arrived in the mail two days before the big event.

I adored wearing the bracelet at the wedding, and after receiving so many complements, I was reluctant to take it off.

However deeply we wished for the festivities to continue, the shindig came to an end in the wee hours of Sunday morning, and shortly thereafter I had to seal The Secret Garden Cuff in the prepaid mailer and send it on its way to Rent The Runway’s headquarters.

In the end, what I loved more than the bracelet itself was sharing the story of renting it. Have you tried a service like Rent the Runway? If you haven’t, there are a number of companies that offer similar services, such as Bag Borrow or Steal and Fashion Hire, and I'd recommend giving them a go. If you've already discovered the glamor of renting, I’d love to hear your story. Do share.

A Jaunt Home to Big Sky Country

2011-07-14T10:27:00.007-05:00

Every time I return home to Montana, I’m startled by its sheer capacity—for plant and animal life, for landscape, for story. And I think others are struck by it, too. Name one person who has returned from Glacier National Park and kept quiet about its rough and tumble beauty. Or Yellowstone. Or any of the state’s many forests or rivers or prairies. Case in point.

What’s perhaps more startling then, is that many of the settings for the experiences we find enchanting—in Montana and elsewhere—belong to the commons, places we inherit or create jointly, such as our National Parks. What is so special about wild, public places? I’ve certainly felt their lure and return to many time and again. Have you? Where to?

On this jaunt home, I visited two of my faves, which I’m eager to share.

I must admit blanket lust for my grandmother's new (used) Pendleton

My main squeeze Patrick and I whiled away our first weekend on Flathead Lake, the largest body of fresh water West of the Mississippi. There, we watched the sun rise from behind the Mission Mountains and cross over The Narrows, the skinniest part of the lake where the water runs quick and cold. We spotted eagles and osprey en route to an avian refuge called the Bird Islands (pictured here on the far left). The air coming off the water smelled rain fresh and brought back memories that only scent can recall. Do you have a summertime memory-scent?

New undergrowth and wildflowers

I also do my very best to make a trip (or two or three) to Glacier when I’m home, so P and I later rendezvoused with my friend Brett, who’s living in the park this summer while working for the USGS and researching boreal toads for her Masters in Organismal Biology and Ecology. Sounds exotic and amazing, no? It is.

We settled on Granite Park Chalet for a destination, hopped a shuttle to the Loop trailhead half-way up the Going to the Sun Road, and started our ramble through the burn area of the 2003 Trapper Creek Complex. The fire torched 19,150 acres of land and was one of three that ripped through over 144,000 acres of park land in total.

Fire isn’t all bad, though: it restores ecosystem health and creates new vistas for the camera-happy hiker, too.

Heaven's Peak, elevation 8,987 ft

After a somewhat soggy final ascent through a half mile of snow, Patrick, Brett, and I were rewarded with another stunning view of the Livingston Range.


View from the Granite Park Chalet

We couldn’t relish our endorphin high for long, as the last shuttle was slated to leave the Loop trailhead at five o’clock sharp. So our trio scuttled down the mountain in record time, only to be met with an impossibly long line at the bottom. Bummer. I was tired, probably dehydrated, and uncomfortable in the 95 degree heat. But I took notice of the others who waited with us while the shuttles made a last-ditch effort to shorten our wait time. There were many and some who came from faraway places. Then I thought about the commons.

As a kid, I used to hear my dad call this magical place our backyard. And it is. A public place in the commons, such as Glacier, is everyone’s backyard—a shared space for which anyone who visits can be a steward. Even the guy with the pompadour from Seattle. Maybe that’s one of the reasons these common spaces are so special: they are unifiers, serving as contexts for unlikely communities, like the tired bunch of hikers and biota on the Sun Road. What a motley crew we were.

But don't get me wrong, I love my time at home, too. You never know what you might find in your (literal) backyard.

A Robin took up residence in our hanging fuchsia plant. (Photo courtesy of my mother)

Just before the chick chicks took flight

If you're interested learning more about the commons, be sure to have a look at Jay Walljasper's new book All that We Share. I have yet to dig in, but it's on the top of my list.

The Mill City Farmers Market

2011-06-29T19:01:00.026-05:00

Nothing says summer like a hearty farmers market, and I’ve discovered one that surely passes muster. Nestled between the Mill City Museum and the iconic Guthrie Theater lies the Mill City Farmers Market (MCFM), an indoor-outdoor event that not only offers up tasty local fare, but also challenges the market goer to wander between two worlds: the historic Mill City, which had its heyday in the late 1800’s when flour was king, and the progressive hub of arts and culture that Minneapolis is today. As if this weren’t already a top-notch setting, the Mississippi River rips through its channel just a stone’s throw from the Guthrie’s steps, where a sated gourmet might sit after wolfing down a few spiced mini-donuts from Chef Shack, one of the market’s renowned vendors. (Guilty as charged.)


View of the MCFM looking toward the Guthrie

View of the MCFM looking toward the museum

The MCFM got its start in 2006, when local restaurateur Brenda Langton teamed up with the Mill City Museum to promote healthy foods and local farmers. Since then, the market has grown to host over sixty vendors who are committed to educating their customers about local agriculture and empowering them to make intentional choices about the food they buy. The market is among a growing number in the United States.

This resurgence signals something "deep and poignant" about our desires, claims social innovator Rachel Botsman in her recent book about collaborative consumption (aka the share economy). She says it reflects the desire to both create a sense of community in our economy and restore the connection between consumer and producer. As I strolled from vendor to vendor last weekend at the MCFM, that’s exactly what I witnessed: lively conversation between shoppers and farmers about growing techniques and seasonal food around the exchange of local goods.

I also saw, and tasted, so many of these:

Radishes from Uptown Farmers

Each variety had its own yummy appeal, but I settled on a bundle of the French Breakfasts from Uptown Farmers. And as soon as I started pedaling home, with a bag choc full of veggies slung over my shoulder, I remembered a photo of some fine looking radishes in the June issue of bon appetit. Over lunch I later found the spread featuring nose-to-tail pioneer Fergus Henderson, who suggests how to eat the red beauts. It was so simple and delicious that I've got to share:

HOW TO EAT RADISHES AT THEIR PEAK

4 servings: Pile 16-20 scrubbed French Breakfast radishes with pert green leaves still attached onto a plate. Set out a bowl of coarse sea salt and a dish of slightly softened best-quality butter. Pick up a radish, spread a bit of butter on it, sprinkle with salt, and eat the radish. Place the leaves in a bowl. Drizzle the leaves with ¼ cup Dijon Vinaigrette, season to taste with salt and pepper, and enjoy as a salad.

DIJON VINAIGRETTE

1 Tbsp. fresh lemon juice

1 tsp. Dijon mustard

1 Tbsp. white wine vinegar

1 garlic clove, finely minced

1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil

Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Double yum.

I had a terrific first experience at the Mill City Farmers Market, and I'm keen on making regular visits to it and other markets near my home in South Minneapolis, too. If you're on the prowl (like me) for a convenient place to fetch your greens, you can find the locations of more than fifty Twin Cities area farmers markets here. Or perhaps you already have a favorite farmers market? No matter if you're near or far, I'd love to hear about it. Do share.

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme

2011-06-15T12:38:00.012-05:00

On Saturday I rode my bicycle down the Midtown Greenway, a former railroad corridor in south Minneapolis with biking and walking trails, to the Soo Line Community Garden. When I arrived, there were several gardeners bustling about, tending their plants, and pulling unwanted weeds from the soil. It was the perfect day for my visit: cumulus clouds here and there gave way to a summertime sun that enlivened plants in each of the ninety plots. Rain from the night before made the air sweet and thick with the scent of basil and sage.

View of the plots at Soo Line

Over the last sixteen years, dedicated gardeners have helped transform the three-quarter-acre plot of tax forfeited land into the vibrant community garden that Soo Line is today. One gardener, who wore wire-rimmed glasses and a large straw sunhat, told me the land was transferred from the State of Minnesota to the Minneapolis Park and Recreation Board last year. The best news, she said grinning cheerfully, is that the garden now has a permanent home on the Greenway.

Poppies with hearts of fringe

When it comes to describing the benefits of community gardening, no one hits the nail more squarely on the head than The American Community Garden Association. I'd encourage you to take a look at their site. Among the reasons I find community gardening appealing is that landsharing is (literally) a productive activity of a sharing-based lifestyle: gardeners share skills, space, tools, and soil, and by the growing season’s end, everyone is eating healthy, learning about growing and harvesting fruit and vegetables, and feeling more connected to their community. It’s a win-win. But I can’t speak from personal experience. Have you participated in a community garden? I’m curious. Do share.

Soo Line is choc full of beautiful flowers this summer

I won’t have the opportunity to sign up for a plot at Soo Line this year (they were all snatched up in February), but I’m delighted that my beau Patrick and I have space in our backyard for a healthy-sized vegetable garden of our own. A few weeks ago, we took a trip to Mother Earth Gardens and picked out a wagon-sized load of baby plants. These are some of my faves: Curly Kale, Bright Lights Swiss Chard, Butterhead Lettuce, Ruby Perfection Cabbage (my all-time fave), and English Thyme.

I like these, too:

Parsley

Oregano

We’ve tossed around the idea of ripping up more lawn, expanding our garden, and inviting community members to share our dirt. If we did, would you come garden with us? I’ve been perusing some great tips offered by Gardening Matters, a nonprofit dedicated to promoting and preserving community gardening across the Twin Cities, for how to start a community garden. It may be a little too late this season, but it's never too early to start planning. By the by, if you’re on the hunt for a space where you can put your green thumb to work, Gardening Matters also has a community garden directory. Be sure to check it out here.

Thanks for reading my first post on encommon! You can learn more about the project here. Be well, keep in touch, and stay tuned for more...

About encommon

2011-06-14T10:51:00.004-05:00

There’s a new sharing-based movement underway, and it’s ramping up—fast. It leverages the power of technology-enabled networks to help us use existing resources with greater intelligence and efficiency. It is disrupting traditional patterns of consumer behavior, while replacing them with fresh, community-based alternatives. Simply put, it’s a new form of economy, where consumers share, lend, trade, and swap products instead of own them. You may have heard of Zipcar, the car-share service, or Roomorama, the online marketplace for short-term accommodations. These companies are perfect examples of the share economy, which is turning business on its ear across sectors from social lending to peer-to-peer transportation, clothing swaps to coworking, and more.

Author and Entrepreneur Lisa Gansky first introduced me to this new economic and social phenomena in January 2010. I had the pleasure of working with her for just over a year while she wrote and published her book The Mesh: Why the Future of Business is Sharing (Portfolio Penguin 2010). With an academic background in environmental studies, I became an instant fangirl (in the best possible sense of the word). The share economy seems to be the most promising way to live an efficient and fulfilled life on the planet—sans all the junk, and the detrimental effects its production and lifecycle has on our environment. For a product or service to exist in the share economy, it must have various essential qualities: durability, classic design, adjustability, and “share-ability.” (Sorry, your gas guzzling jalopy just won't cut it in a peer-to-peer car-sharing service.) In the share economy, we don’t have to rely on words that have been rendered essentially meaningless from overuse, such as “sustainable” and “green,” to describe an earth-friendly offering. The proof is in the pudding.

And so, after a terrific run as Lisa’s program manager at www.meshing.it, and my subsequent move from the City by the Bay (San Francisco) to the City of Lakes (Minneapolis), it came as no surprise that ideas about sharing-based organizations and activities kept floating to the top of my mind. Then I got to thinking: How can I put my knowledge about the share economy to use?

Enter encommon, a year-long project in which I will attempt to conduct my life as fully as possible within the share economy—with one caveat. I will integrate sharing strategies into my day-to-day life within reason. Ultimately, it is my intention for this sharing-based lifestyle to extend beyond the life of encommon. The project is not designed to be a life study that I might make it through by the skin of my teeth; it's about making deliberate changes to my real life.

So for the next year, I will explore and try to use many of the hundreds of organizations that provide unique ways for individuals to become more connected to their communities and make better use of existing resources. And I will share my experiences with you here on encommon.

You might wonder, Why now?

The time is ripe. Faced with building a life and starting a career in this recession, my peers and I are discovering that there are countless new ways to re-imagine how we work and play and shape our communities. I want to find out whether the share economy will truly help us re-value what matters most, so I’ve prepared myself to meet the challenges of living a sharing-based life in a (sometimes very chilly) mid-sized city with creativity and gusto.

Thank you for being here. I hope at times to inspire you to try something new and to learn from you in return. Please keep in touch!

Warmest wishes,

Jessica