Last August, Leda Meredith stopped eating bananas. And lemons, chocolate, soy sauce, and avocadoes. On the day after her 45 birthday, she started “the 250,” a year-long experiment in eating foods grown within a 250-mile radius of her Brooklyn apartment. Thus began the process of retraining herself—planning every meal ahead, scouring the city for local beans and flour, canning countless jars of tomatoes so she could eat something other than potatoes all winter.

Now, one year later, Leda has emerged unscathed—healthier, she says, and a better cook—from her experiment in eating locally. And as if canning and dehydrating food weren’t enough to keep her busy all winter, she’s also written a book. Botany, Ballet and Dinner from Scratch is the story of Leda—from wild-haired kid to world-traveling professional ballet dancer to experienced botanist and forager—and of the recipes she uses to make saving the environment a delightful culinary adventure.

Your book follows in the tradition of local-diet chronicles by Gary Nabhan, Alisa Smith and J.B. MacKinnon, and Barbara Kingsolver. Did you ever feel pressure to live up to their examples?
I was hugely inspired by those books—but I was reading Barbara Kingsolver and going, ‘I don’t have an acre; I don’t have a farm in Virginia; I don’t have bestsellers sending me royalties.’ How do I do this from a one-bedroom in Brooklyn? Has anyone written this for a big metropolis, and a small apartment, on the East coast? I would’ve been happy to find that book; I didn’t have to write it.

Do people think you’re crazy for doing things like this—canning, foraging, eating only local foods?
In the classes I teach [at the Brooklyn and New York Botanic Gardens], there’s a weird moment: When you’ve been out foraging and you hand someone a leaf and say, “Taste this,” there’s a definite hesitation—‘Wait, you want me to put this in my mouth?’ Or when I’m doing a canning demonstration and I say, ‘You pack these jars,’ it’s like, ‘No, I’ll do it wrong.’

I’ve been canning and foraging for long enough now that I’m not afraid of things like salmonella. I trust myself more than the supermarket. I don’t know what they put in their food!

Like you, I didn’t learn to cook until I was an adult, and when I did, there was one recipe that sold me on it—salmonberry pie. Did you have one turning-point recipe like that?
The first time I ever made a really great pesto sauce, I had grown the basil on my windowsill—I didn’t have a garden then—and it was so much better than what you buy in those little plastic tubs at the grocery store.

The seeds of your local food experiment were sown on trips to Europe and by your Greek grandmother, and the book itself was born of an eco-tour in Brazil. Where do you want to go next?
Italy or Nepal. Or Indonesia. But it brings up a lot of issues: If I’m eating local to reduce the oil consumption and then I’m flying to Indonesia… I’ve never thought twice about jumping on a plane and just going, but the 250 has made me think. I may have to discover the Catskills in depth!

This book is as much about relationships as it is about food, dance and life. If you had to choose one thing that influenced you the most in your life, what would you choose?
My direct connection to this [touching the leaves of an heirloom tomato plant in her yard]. I haven’t always had a garden, but it always comes back and balances me, connects me, and feeds me—literally.

What piece of advice would you give to a would-be locavore?
It’s easier than you think. Plan on planning—that’s the hardest part.

There’s a phenomenon among some Appalachian Trail hikers: Once they reach the end of the trail, they feel achievement but also overwhelming emptiness because the journey’s over. Do you feel that at all?
Yeah, a little bit, I do. The end of the 250-mile diet year snuck up on me; I suddenly realized, ‘Oh my God, there’s only a week left!’ But most of this is going to continue. I did all the hard work already—I found the ingredients; I’ve gotten used to planning. The next year can only be easier.

On the other hand, I’m going to be a little less strict. There are some non-local things I’m looking forward to.

So what’s next?
I started taking notes on the next book. This one is so personal; the next one is a little more hands-on—practical guidance on being a locavore in an urban environment.

Didn’t you do something like that this year?
Yes. The “Locavore’s Guide to NYC” is online, and it’s great to see people using it! We’re hoping it will expand to other cities. Over half the world’s population lives in cities. This is not about going back to the land at all—much as I’d like to. For the local food movement to make even a scratch, it has to reach city people. It can’t just be the people out on the farms in Virginia.

Posted on Aug 15, 2008 at 10:00 AM
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