When it comes to buzzwords, Ridgewells’ Web site uses them all—“fresh, organic, local, sustainable, going green with yummy cuisine,” reads the purple lettering, as pictures of gorgeous food glide across the screen.
Susan Lacz, CEO of the longtime Bethesda caterer, says Ridgewells has been buying responsibly for years, and that it was high time to tell its customers. After all, she says, “everybody else is talking about it.”
Indeed, caterers, restaurateurs and supermarkets are touting the latest lingo in feel-good food. Organic. Local. Sustainable. Green. Maybe an establishment is focusing on one of these qualities, or a combination of two or three. Maybe it’s very committed to a cause, or just a little. Maybe it markets its greenness, maybe not. There are as many eco-philosophies out there as gelato flavors.
“I think there are pockets of [Bethesda] restaurants that have looked into ‘sustainability’ and ‘green’ comprehensively,” says Dave Feldman, executive director of Bethesda Green, an organization that hopes to reduce the community’s environmental footprint. For others, he says, “it’s still very new. They’re at the awareness stage.”
Where the (recycled) rubber meets the road, however, is what gets translated into the food on your plate. Because when you get down to it, what do these terms really mean? “I could talk for a whole day about this,” says Roy Cargiulo, sales manager for Keany Produce Co. in Landover, a wholesaler that sells to Ridgewells and Bethesda-area restaurants. “Everybody’s trying to get a handle on these buzzwords.” Ferd Hoefner, policy director for the National Sustainable Agriculture Coalition in Washington, D.C., agrees. “I think people sometimes get confused between sustainable and organic,” he says. “You don’t have to be organic to be sustainable, and not all organic farms are necessarily sustainable. And just because something is local doesn’t mean it’s sustainable. It’s all tricky.”
Ann Yonkers, co-director of FRESHFARM Markets, a Washington, D.C., nonprofit organization that runs local farmers markets, including one in Silver Spring, says it’s “fine that there’s flexibility and ambiguity” in the terms. “It’s an evolving area,” she says. In the meantime, what definitions or standards exist? Keep in mind that this isn’t a discussion about the benefits of a healthier food supply, or the environmental pros and cons of organic tomatoes from Mexico versus conventionally grown ones from the Eastern Shore. It’s just an exercise to see a little more clearly through the eco-blur.
Organic
Of all the terms, this is the one that’s the most defined and regulated. Policy wonks may recall that Congress passed the Organic Foods Production Act as part of the 1990 Farm Bill. The nitty-gritty details—the methods, practices and approved substances for raising organic foods—went into effect in 2002. Simply put, organic producers are prohibited from using products and practices such as toxic pesticides and fertilizers, antibiotics, synthetic hormones, sewage sludge, genetic engineering, cloning and irradiation.
Growers and processors who want to use the “USDA Organic” seal must be certified by state or private agencies to ensure that they’re following the standards, and it’s a pretty rigorous deal. Producers who sell less than $5,000 a year in goods don’t have to be certified, so you can’t be certain of the practices they use.
“We try to stay as accurate as we can. If it’s not ‘certified organic,’ we won’t label it” as organic on the menu, says Nate Waugaman, formerly sous chef at Black’s Bar & Kitchen in Bethesda, and now the executive chef at sister restaurant Addie’s in North Bethesda.
Though there are civil penalties of up to $11,000 for selling or labeling as organic products that are not, the law only applies to the growers and processors. The USDA doesn’t regulate restaurants and grocery stores.
But Nora Pouillon, chef and owner of Restaurant Nora in the District, the country’s first certified organic restaurant, says diners should be inquisitive. “If it says ‘organic lettuce’ on the menu, ask ‘what makes it organic, and do you have proof? What farm does it come from?’ You should always ask questions,” Pouillon says. The food at Restaurant Nora—first certified in 1999 by Oregon Tilth, a nonprofit agency accredited by the USDA—is 95 percent certified organic. In order to get re-certified each year, Pouillon must provide documentation proving that each of her purveyors is indeed certified organic.
If you suspect your chicken dish at an area restaurant really isn’t “organic,” deceptive trade practices are handled in Montgomery County by the Office of Consumer Protection. “We are complaint driven,” says Eric Friedman, OCP’s director. “We’re not running around collecting every menu floating around Bethesda, but if somebody were to contact us, we’d investigate.” Local
We’ve gone way beyond lamenting the wan winter tomato. Now we want to know the carbon footprint of the entire salad. The “local” movement is booming. But ask a restaurateur or food purveyor what “locally grown” means, and here’s what you get:
“FRESHFARM Markets uses 150 to 200 miles as ‘local,’” Yonkers says. “Anything within 400 miles—that’s our outer range,” says Jared Rager, owner of Redwood Restaurant and Bar in Bethesda.
“From our perspective, ‘locally grown’ means grown within our market area—within a reasonable proximity to our distribution center that services our 182 stores,” says Jamie Miller, spokesman for Giant Food.
“As far as southern Jersey,” says Nicolas Jammet, one of the owners of Sweetgreen, a new salad and frozen yogurt shop in Bethesda. “Usually within a 50-mile radius,” says Lacz of Ridgewells.
“At Whole Foods Market, we define ‘local’ in Maryland as any product we carry that comes from Maryland, Virginia, Washington, D.C., Delaware, West Virginia, Pennsylvania and New Jersey,” says company spokeswoman Michelle Guerrero.
