Join the Revolution
Where your food comes is important.
This is a long email, and we're about to get geeky, but stay with me, because it is important to know.
Next time you eat at your favorite establishment, ask them where the ingredients come from...
This weekend I found myself at a potluck brunch at the Tiny Farm in Cardiff, sitting at a wooden table with local farmers, growers, and people who care about where their food comes from. The dishes were simple and beautiful and centered around one ingredient that is picked every month by the organizers. This time it was fennel and everyone embraced it.
What stayed with me even more than the food was the shared understanding around that table: healthy soil creates healthy plants, healthy plants create nourishing food, and nourishing food builds healthy bodies. It felt less like a meal and more like a collective affirmation of values.
More than just the taste, why is it important that we buy local?
When fruits and vegetables are allowed to ripen in the field, on the plant, under the sun, they complete their full biological cycle. Sugars develop slowly, minerals are absorbed through living root systems, and complex flavor compounds have time to form. A tomato that ripens on the vine is sweeter, more aromatic, and richer in vitamin C, antioxidants, and phytonutrients. Produce picked early, for long transport, may turn red in a truck or cold room, but it never reaches the same nutritional density or depth of flavor. Weeks in refrigeration slow enzymatic activity, weaken cell structure, mute aroma, and gradually diminish both texture and vitality. It may look fresh, but it is no longer biologically alive in the same way.
The same is true for meat. Animals raised on healthy, diverse pasture build their bodies from grasses and plants grown in mineral-rich, living soil. Their fat carries higher levels of omega-3s and CLA, their meat contains more micronutrients, and the flavor is fuller and more complex. Just as vegetables reflect the health of the soil they grow in, meat reflects the health of the land the animals graze. When soil is alive, grasses are nutrient-dense. When grasses are nutrient-dense, animals are resilient and well-nourished. And when animals are well-nourished, the food they provide truly supports our own health. And the taste is just impeccable.
This is the heart of regenerative farming. Regenerative agriculture goes beyond “sustainable.” It is a system designed to restore what has been depleted. It builds organic matter in the soil, increases microbial life, improves water retention, supports pollinators and wildlife, and captures carbon instead of releasing it. In regenerative grazing, animals move across pasture in a way that mimics natural herds, stimulating plant growth, fertilizing the soil, and allowing land to rest and regenerate. It closes the loop between soil, plants, animals, and people. In simple terms, it is farming that leaves the land healthier every year than it was the year before.
Preservation, when done thoughtfully, honors this cycle rather than interrupting it. Pickling and fermentation capture vegetables at their peak, when nutrients and flavor are fully developed. Natural fermentation preserves vitamins, increases mineral bioavailability, and creates beneficial bacteria that support digestion and immunity. A carrot or cucumber that ripened in the field and is then gently fermented becomes a living food, one that carries the essence of its season while extending its life without stripping it of its integrity.
Eating seasonally and locally follows the same wisdom. Spring offers cleansing greens, summer brings hydration and sweetness, autumn provides grounding roots and squashes, and winter delivers hardy brassicas and citrus that support resilience. Our bodies respond to this rhythm. Food grown nearby and in season is fresher, more nutrient-dense, and more in tune with what we physiologically need at that time of year. It also carries a sense of place. You can taste the climate, the soil, the care of the farmer. Eating becomes relational again, not transactional.
Supporting small local farms means supporting the people who are rebuilding soil, protecting biodiversity, caring for animals with respect, and choosing long-term health over short-term yield. These farms are cultural anchors. They hold knowledge, seed diversity, and food traditions. They are part of what makes a community resilient.
There is also the environmental truth. Food that travels thousands of miles requires fuel, refrigeration, packaging, and storage. Long supply chains depend on monocultures that exhaust soil and increase chemical inputs. Regenerative, local systems shorten that journey and actively heal the land by building carbon-rich soil, retaining water, and restoring ecosystems.
And then we have microgreens, a small but powerful example of what freshness truly means. We use them on almost all of our dishes and we harvest them to order just days after sprouting. They are extraordinarily nutrient-dense, often containing many times the vitamins and antioxidants of their mature counterparts and our bodies are able to absorb 100% as opposed to fully grown vegetables. That's why they are proven to not only taste great, but also are essential in fighting diseases like cancer.
Sitting at that farm table in Cardiff, surrounded by food grown with care and people who understand the responsibility that comes with feeding others, I was reminded that eating is an act of connection. Connection to seasons, to farmers, to animals, to soil, and to one another. Choosing food that ripens in the field, meat raised on living pasture, vegetables preserved at their peak, and farms that give back to the land is a way of participating in something larger than ourselves.
So choose the farmers market, local produce and fresh eggs. Ask where your food comes from. Taste the difference. Support the hands that grow it. This is how healthy soil becomes healthy food, and healthy food becomes healthy bodies. This is what we do for you at allmine, This is the revolution.
With warmth,
Roxana
