One of the most exciting pieces of food news this year is that "locavore" has been knighted "word of the year" by the Oxford University Press. However, I absorbed the concept of the Eat Local Challenge before I did "locavore," which, in all honesty, I thought had something to do with the phases of the moon and the lycanthrope society. (It's possible I've watched one too many Frasiers.)

The first time I heard about the Eat Local movement, it was over two years ago, and since I was still trying to ferret out where to buy my favorite French nut oil, Mexican ginger beer, and New England pumpkin ale, I felt totally overwhelmed.

Did I really need to think about each and every food product that came into my kitchen when I was just starting to find my cooking legs in San Francisco? Of course not. If you give the smallest crap about eating local, it's not necessary to ensure that every food product -- salt, coffee, flour, sugar, produce, meat, Diet Coke -- in your kitchen is from local purveyors. If you give the smallest crap about eating local, you just think about what you're buying and wonder if it's local. Because you care.

That's all you need to do to effect change: start thinking about it. Start caring about it. Then maybe, you'll start acting on it. Frankly, if it hadn't been for Jen Maiser, I'd still be just thinking about eating local and not actually doing anything about it. Not only does Jen blog about eating local at her own site, Life Begins at 30, she's also the editor of the Eat Local Challenge blog and has worked at various farmers' stands at the Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market.

After my failed first attempt at participating in an Eat Local Challenge, I started following Jen's efforts more and more. Her passionate, yet refreshingly frank and evenhanded writing style drew me in deeper and deeper, and before I knew it, not only was I examining every tag, sticker, and vittles visa at Andronico's, but I was delivering earnest, flushed-cheek diatribes to my Minneapolian parents and sister about why they should think to ask, "Where did this come from?" before they stuck anything in their mouths. It got to the point when my mom was collaring the hapless meat guy at Whole Foods and demanding to know why he was offering her lamb from New Zealand and not from Minnesota.

Jen shares her information widely, energetically, and -- most importantly -- nonjudgmentally. She embodies the sentiment that you don't have to harvest your own coffee beans, dry your own salt, or refine your own sugar to be a conscientious eater, you just need to wonder, "Where?"

In fact, "Where?" is the sentiment of the newest Eat Local Challenge. According to Jen, the next ELC -- set to be unveiled early next year -- is: "a challenge focused on where our everyday foods are sourced from. Instead of challenging participants to eat food from as close to home as possible, we will be asking them to take everyday items that their families eat -- processed foods like crackers and potato chips, mass-produced products, and fast food items -- and try to find out the source of the product ingredients. I think it will be interesting to learn what we can, and can't, find out about our food."

I'm thrilled that "locavore" is being recorded in the annals of history, but without the Eat Local Challenge spurring me to think, question, act, and eat, I have a feeling I'd still be assuming that locavores howled at the moon and stuffed pillows with their own hair.

In 2005, Garrison Keillor, that curmudegon of a Minnesotan, wrote a column in <a href="http://dir.salon.com/story/opinion/feature/2005/09/28/keillor_work/index.html
">Salon stating:

"Today, home canning has gone the way of the typewriter, the vacuum tube and the TV variety show. The Ball company sold off its jar division and now makes satellite sensors or something, and groceries stock fresh tomatoes all winter, imported from Mexico, which cost a buck apiece and taste more like tennis balls than tomatoes. But at least you don't have to stand in a steamy kitchen and ruin your hairdo."

How great is it that locavores everywhere are proving him wrong this month? As Jen Maiser mentioned late last month, this year's September Eat Local Challenge is focussed on "canning, preserving, and putting food up for the winter." As the blogs I frequent roll up on my Google reader, I can see that several Bay Area Bloggers have risen to the challenge.

Sam at Becks and Posh starts off her Eat Local Challenge canning project by first making me jealous that she invested in a pressure canner and then giving a hysterical list of "Don't"s for novice canners. As in:

" --Don't embark on a canning project unless you think you will get extreme satisfaction from a loud popping noise in your kitchen that almost sounds like someone has been shot but is, in fact, just indication that your lid has concaved, your vacuum has sealed, you can safely remove the screw band and that the operation was a complete success..."

and

"Don't install the disk of your food mill upside down. It is possible, but not recommended."

Hee. She also appears to be swearing, cursing, and using lots of bad words. But she doesn't recommend that either.

Elsewhere, Cookiecrumb at I'm Mad and I Eat who, rather than canning, has just pickled some serranos and jalapeños, and explains:

"I covered them with a boiling mixture of vinegar (local), salt (uh-uh), sugar (nope), cinnamon (as if) and cardamom (yeah, right). Water from Marin County. No idea if this mixture is chemically balanced for the hot water bath, but it's yummy just the same, and who cares. "

For my part this time around, I'm doing my passive (but LOCAL!) part by discovering and indulging in cold jars of certified organic sour dills from Happy Girl Kitchen. You can buy them as singletons at the Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market and slurp on them as you do your shopping or, if you're a glutton like me, you can grab a whole jar and snack on them late at night while watching The 5000 Fingers of Dr. T and wondering if drinking pickle juice really does give you strange powers.