When school started this fall and I found myself thrice-weekly at the supermarket, four bumper-to-bumper miles from home, I knew something had to change. With a voracious teenage milk drinker in our house I just couldn’t keep up, and neither could my reusable bag handles, straining under the weight of all those bottles. So we signed up for an old-fashioned milk delivery service, three gallons a week and counting, with local eggs and container-grown lettuces added every other.

Our new “dairy fairy” arrives Tuesdays before dawn, so quiet that even the dog hasn’t noticed, and my fridge is restocked in the blink of an eye. My grocery visits have shrunk to just once a week, reducing not only in-traffic headaches but also all those impulse purchases I make when I’m just-running-in-for-that-one-little-thing. We’re using the farmers market more, visiting local farm stands and cooking up what we have before buying something new—plus, in this age of conglomerate grocery delivery I love that we’re supporting a small, local family-run business. Bonus: Our recycling bin is so much roomier now that the glass bottles get returned and refilled—no more plastic jugs and waxed paper cartons to crush. Why was I so late to this party? What took us so long?

Making this small change got me thinking about other ways to reduce waste at home. The vast majority of food available at supermarkets—even the ones touting their sustainability bona fides—is pre-wrapped and boxed and then wrapped again, mostly in plastic or mylar, often unnecessarily. It’s not enough anymore just to carry my own shopping bags to the store; to really reduce the packaging waste in my home it’s time to start buying in bulk, bringing my own containers and using cotton produce bags in lieu of plastic. A commitment, to be sure.

Sustainable living is hard! So we’ll be devoting our Winter issue, out in January, to the topic—we’ll take a look at diverse efforts in Greater Boston to nurture and protect our collective ecosystem. And in the intervening months, we’ll be doling out a series of climate-focused online articles by our friend Leigh Belanger as she struggles with these very challenges in her own home. (You may have noticed that we’ve been running more online-only pieces of late; these are stories that either need telling right away or can’t fit into our quarterly publication schedule, reducing—ever so slightly—our printed paper output and carbon footprint, while bringing more original content to our readers. Sign up for the e-newsletter on our website to get each new article delivered directly to your inbox all year long.)

As an avid reader of this magazine, though, you know we don’t need a special issue to tell the stories of sustainability and community—we tell these stories all the time, including inside the very copy you’re holding. Our cover image says it all: “Leave No Crop Behind,” the motto of the Boston Area Gleaners. Each and every one of our features—in this season of giving and thanksgiving— explores how local people are building a community around food and drink, and helping others along the way.

Our second test issue of Edible Worcester is being released along with this one and we’re thrilled to say that the experiment was a success: Beginning with the Winter 2020 issue, EW will be its own fully fleshed-out magazine, with its own editor and Worcester-centric content. The outpouring of support from the Worcester community has been heartwarming and gratifying; we can’t wait to tell in-depth food stories straight from the Heart of the Commonwealth. Suggestions are always welcome at info@edibleworcester.com.

The October Jewish celebration—Sukkot—welcomes all to the tent; read Penny Schwartz’ piece profiling Jewish Bostonians embracing a biblical harvest holiday with new locally-inspired traditions, then make the accompanying recipes to share with friends and neighbors at an outdoor meal. This nature-driven holiday reminds everyone, regardless of faith, that al fresco dining doesn’t have to end with the passing of the summer months. Breathing fresh air, connecting to the earth and its quiet beauty is one of life’s great pleasures. Bring a picnic to the woods or the park or, if time is short, take your supper to the stoop—just get out there. Enjoy these waning days of color and light and remember: Fresh air makes everything taste better.

Peace,

Sarah Blackburn