Quintessentially American...Unfortunately

My husband is off on a camping adventure. He does this every year and I am glad for the outlet it gives him. It is one of the handful of times that he ventures into a grocery store alone to pick out his provisions for the following few days; something I'm sure he relishes as my voice is surely nowhere in his head telling him to put down that over-processed, sugar-laden thing he has picked up precisely because he was not allowed to have it during his childhood either. I exaggerate a bit. He actually comes home with quite healthy snacks, knowing that in order to feel good on the many miles of hiking he'll be doing he can't subsist on Pop Tarts and Cheez-Wiz.

As I watched him unload his bags yesterday I noticed something odd. A plastic pint-sized container of whole, already peeled garlic. "What are you doing with that?" I asked him perplexed. He shrugged, but I'm sure he has a gourmet (by camping standards) meal in mind. He is after all, quite spoiled by good food, as I am fond of reminding him when he complains about my addition of flax seed meal or some such thing that he finds a little too healthy in his scones, cookies, etc.

He packed a few pungent cloves and left the rest of the container on the counter, perfuming the entire house with its manhandled, I'm-so-handy stench. I studied the label. There had to be the equivalent of 4 heads of garlic cloves packed in there--all perfectly peeled. It had cost him ninety cents. That's a lot less than buying the actual heads of garlic would cost. Interesting considering the heads of garlic are sold in bulk: no packaging costs, no labeling costs, no labor of peeling and putting into container and pressing on a lid costs. I have passed these containers many a time in the store and thought, albeit fleetingly, of grabbing one to save myself the extra, what? 5 seconds? it takes to peel a clove myself. Seeing the ridiculousness and utter un-need of such things I always pass them up. Besides, prep is one of the joys of cooking. Its meditative quality is calming...when you're not rushing. These nude cloves of garlic presuppose rushing. I began to hate them. And then I noticed something in small print: Product of China.

WHAT?

I began to feel very superior for not having brought this contraband into my house. Do we really need a country half way around the globe peeling our garlic and flying it around the world just to save us mere seconds? I laugh at the sheer ridiculousness that is our food system. How did it come to this? Can I boycott such things by standing in the produce section with a little sign? Then again, do these nudies even deserve as much thought as I've already given them?
I am sure my husband did not notice this little tidbit of information, and I like to believe that if he had he too would have passed on this purchase (especially having just finished The Omnivore's Dilemma and finally having jumped, at least partially, on my bandwagon).

Is there a better argument for buying local as much as possible? Better yet, grow your own Victory Over Stupidity garden and be sure to plant lots of garlic. I will. More on that next Spring.

VEW