i i i a i .l. . r a 0 0 Wensa, coe 4,20 heMcia Diy 51 Northern Locavores When snow covers the ground, you might think your opportunity for homegrown food has passed. But Ann Arbor producers have you covered all year round - if you're willing to alter your diet. Sara Lynne Thelen Statement Staff Writer (RIGHT)JED MOCH/Daily W ith the clink of artisan martinis and the pang of steep menu prices, it's clear that Grange Kitchen and Bar on Liberty Street has joined the ranks of swanky Ann Arbor hot spots. Grange is definitely trendy, but not just for its chil atmosphere and prime location. The restaurant, which opened in Bella Ciao's old space this summer, is based on a more consequentialtrend: eating local. Eating food grown and processed nearby isn't a novelty. The idea of cutting out the middleman has been lauded as environmentally friendly and beneficial to local economies for a long time. But now, as climate change becomes a more pressing issue and the locavore movement grows, the quest is to maintain the most sustainable diet possible. To the most ardent locavores, their place on the sustainability spectrum is a measure of their love for the earth and their loyalty to the floundering Great Lakes State. But the plausibility of adhering to a strict 100-mile-radius diet in a state that freezes over for much of the year is questionable. It's difficult, but not impossible. The first step is committing to eating seasonally, or in other words, forsaking exotic fruits for vegetables that can be cultivated year round. And there are more locally grown options than may be expected. Thanks to a plethora of local farms, chefs and grocers dedicated to sustainability, any Ann Arborite can eat with a conscience in the dead of winter. Nakao.,. gr . SUSTAINABLE GOURMET Brandon Johns, head chef and owner of Grange, doesn't like to be tethered to the politi- cal label of locavore, but his clean and simple dining room exudes an air of "back to the basics". The decor is sparse and modest: wooden floors are sur- rounded by spring green walls, where unframed . canvasses showcase photos of thick juli- enned eggplant, hands cradling golden tomatoes and blood oranges sliced in half. On each place setting, sand- colored cloth napkins comple- ment a white linen tablecloth, and the one-page menu is typed on material not unlike a paper grocery bag. For Johns, using local ingre- dients isn't just about conserv- ing the environment. First and foremost, it's about assuring that his food is the freshest and best it can be. "My main aim is to have a restaurant that serves great food, and to source as much as I can locally at the same time, because I think those things go hand in hand," he said. "I'm not walking home with a flag on top of my head. I really just did it because I wanted good food. Then the political, social and environmental reasons that everyone's sort of hot to hop on now came to light." All but one of Grange's 13 food sources listed on its web- site are in Michigan, with five producers based in Washtenaw County that provide Johns with fresh fruit, meat, eggs, coffee and more. Besides alco- hol and spices, Grange's one out-of-state source is a farm in Ontario, Canada that produces millet. As crops in Michigan are harvested at different set points each year, the trick to Johns's trade is reimagining Grange's menu to suit changes in the season. According to Johns, asparagus is only avail- able locally for four weeks in the spring, but most every- thing else that grows here - tomatoes, peaches, pears, carrots, squash, apples, onions, apricots - are available until mid- or late October. Winter- time brings root vegetables like potatoes and hardier greens like kale and mustard leaves. "I just always wanted to cook with the season," Johns said. "As the season changes, your body changes what it needs." Right now, the menu is heavy on fish, meat, potatoes and squash. Conspicuously absent are traditional side dishes like broccoli and asparagus. But it is clear that Johns has applied some creativity in drumming up dishes that play to fall's strong points, such as with an entre of cider braised beef, roasted parsnips and pumpkin ravioli, or a vegetarian option offering zucchini and squash cakes with wilted greens and spiced tomato sauce. As a whole, a local menu is more expensive to fill than a conventional one,so itdemands that he be creative to compen- sate for the cost. "I spend 12, 13, 14 dollars a chicken, where Tyson chick- ens would cost me three bucks a chicken," Johns said. "Now I think the difference is worth it - you can completely taste it. But it also makes me use a lot of parts that no one else does. A lot of sausage." However, some customers that seek out Johns' natural philosophy might want to fully understand it before they sit down. "People complain about the duck, they say, 'It's too tough,"' he said. "And I go to the table and I say, 'Well, the duck got to walk around. The duck evolved muscles.' " Johns faces a challenge in running a restaurant with a self-enforced ingredient con- straint. It's not enough to find a local producer - he must also make sure that producer is using chemical-free cultiva- tion and processing methods to assure the produce is of the highest quality. Johns said researching farms to attain ingredients with the highest levels of taste and nutrition and the lowest impact on the envi- ronment is a "huge time com- mitment." "Just because it's local doesn't mean it's being done right," he said. THE LOVE AND LABOR BEHIND LOCAL FOOD Tantre Farm, a certified organic farm in nearby Chel- sea, is one of Grange's sources that has gotten food production right. Stationed out of a small white house straddled by shad- owy willows and softly rolling fieldsofyellow soybeans, Tantr6 Farm is a 40-acre experiment in community-sponsored agri- culture. Customers purchase shares in the farm and receive regular deliveries of produce in exchange. The farm's business model is a direct affront to the near-mo- nopolies that reign over a food industry that is riddled with social justice and health issues. At Tantre Farmno factory walls hide travesties against human- ity, animal rights or common health that would make you lose your appetite. Instead, a fam- ily of three, a handful of live-in workers, part-time help and vol- unteers cultivate a diverse array of organic crops. "We're into the post-indus- trial model," Tantr6 Farm co- owner Richard Andres said. Tantre Farm produces as much as 8,000 pounds of pep- pers, parsnips, lettuces and tomatoes every week. During other times of the year, the farm also cultivates its high hedges of berries, melons and mushroom patches, an herb and flower gar- den, goats and 50 chickens. Hard Michigan weather serves as more of a benefit than a drawback for Tantre. When feebler crops die off in the first frost, Andres and his team have more time to devote to main- tenance, refurbishing, and fin- ishing projects that "dangle all summer" while crops are more diverse and abundant. "Then we can focus on mak- ing the operation run smoother and more efficiently," he said. Tantr6sellshardier cropsthat survive the cold to restaurants throughout the winter. Andres said that there are about 15,000 pounds of potatoes, 10,000 pounds of squash and 5,000 pounds of onions already saved up. They also cut firewood, milk cows and make cheese. Kale, carrots, Kohlrabi and See EATING LOCAL, Page 6B Tantre Farm is an organic farm in nearby Chelsea that yields produce throughout the entire year. Grange Kitchen and Bar is a new downtown restaurant that