My Local Year: Dr. Uri Mayer Chissick at TEDxKibbutzimCollegeofEducation

A food historian and expert of local nutritional traditions, but none of his academic work prepared him for his wife's revolutionary proposal- embarking on a life-changing year's mission of consuming local food only. In this charming talk lies a story about not only food, but also a community's values and spirits.

(Applause)

The lessons I learned
while Locavoring

This is Asaph, my miller.

He wanted to be a baker and ended up
as the best miller I know.

This is Ayelet. For her 40th birthday,
she started an organic farm

with her friend Neta.
They grow my vegetables.

Sa'ar, was also my farmer, converted from

conventional farming to permaculture.

And this is Ichrak.

He is my wine-maker.

He retired and realized his dream

to make wine in the basement of his house.

These people make the food our family eats.

They are all my friends and neighbours.

But it wasn't always like that.

I was always fascinated by the origins
and sources of our food.

I read books about the history of food;

I learned the politics of food;

I reconstructed ancient recipes and feasts;

I even studied it in university.

Doing all that,
the most important thing I learned,

was that, as we move away
from our involvement

in the production of our food,

we compromise our health, our environment

and our society.

We eat cheap food that is grown by people
who can't afford it,

in ways that spoil land and water,

then processed in ways that create

huge amounts of waste that kills wildlife,

and jeopardise our health.

We can do all that because we don't see it.

It's removed from our lives.

But I still wanted to find the way

to know more about
where my food comes from.

Like with any problem I need to solve,
I went to my wife.

And she did what she always does.

She raised the stakes even higher.

and told me I need to self-experiment.

So we embarked on another adventure

to change my life.

For a whole year,
I ate only food I knew was local.

Only food I knew for sure

was grown here.

I tackled my year of locavoring head on,

walked into a supermarket
with some hard questions,

and that was also when I understood

I may have a problem.

It turns out that according to
the Israeli Central Bureau of Statistics,

most of our food, is imported.

even 33 percent of our fresh fruits
and vegetables are imported.

Sadly, even the most famous local brands
I knew from my childhood,

are not local anymore.

The most amusing example is
the Sardines of the Sea of Galilee.

The reputation was so good, that even when

they stopped bringing the sardines
from the sea of Galilee,

they kept the name,
and wrote the little letters on the side,

"New, now imported".

I moved on to discover
that my locally branded garlic

come from China.

The Greek, the Galilean olive oil is Greek,

and the farm fresh eggs come from Turkey.

What should I do?

The first thing I realised was that

I have nothing to do in supermarkets.

Supermarkets are made of merchandise,
not food.

Most of the time, we won't have a clue

where it came from.

I left the supermarket, seeking a solution

in my community.

A few days ago,
as I was preparing for this lecture,

my daughter, now 7,
said she wanted to hear it.

So I gave her the lecture,
and when we got to this last part

She stopped me, looked at me
in a strange way in the eyes and said,

"Dad, did you really ever go
into supermarkets?

Are you sure you really wrote that?"

By now, supermarkets are unthinkable
in our family.

However, I needed to find people

that sell food and know its origins.

Soon, I found that every professional
in small shops

knew exactly the origin of the food.

We conducted an experiment with butchers.

We asked them
where one of the calves was raised.

The butcher in the supermarket didn't have a clue.

Even the butcher in the butchery chain didn't know.

The only ones that knew,
were the real professional butchers,

that own their local shops.

They knew exactly the origin of the meat.

I went back buying food
the way my grandparents used to.

Meat from the butcher,
vegetables from the farmer in the market,

and flowers from Asaph's mill.

I got to know my community.

I started my year with food in my mind.

But I ended up with a community.

I learned that in order to eat nutritious food,

I need to know where it comes from.

In order to know where it comes from,

I need to get to know my community.

Think how much money
we invest in food in our lives.

Many years of buying food, every week,
an enormous amount.

Think about the influence

each of us could have if we change the way

we invest that money.

I was lecturing to Bedouin teachers
about local food, a few weeks ago.

When I finished,
the Head Master of the school came to me

and asked me if, and he said

that there is a local Bedouin phrase
for the importance of local economy.

In Arabic it's (speaking Arabic)

It means that if I move something
from one of my heads to the other,

It stays with me.

In the tribe it meant that
if I give you something, I can't lose.

Because it stays in our community.

As we learn to see the power of locavoring,

we also started to hear the skeptics.

It's too hard,
supermarket has everything in one place.

And so on. Chain stores are much more visible.

So now we're working on a project that will

make the local and the small more visible.

We are creating a platform
that will give the community a tool

to map the local shops and businesses.

We're creating it with volunteers
from the community

for the community.

We're calling it The Makomit.

Makomit is local in Hebrew.

The strength of our community
influences the quality of our food

and the way we acquire the food

influences the resilience of our community.

I want to thank my community.

Thank you.

(Applause)