We’ve been on the road again, this time gone to the Wyoming backwoods where my husband ran in a trail race. So much about the trip was classically Western, from the vast green valleys, swollen rivers, and dirt roads to the smoky bars and bikers covered in blue tatoos. The rural West is old familiar territory for both of us, but things seemed different this time too.

Like that the winning runner was an organic farmer.

Like that in Livingston, Montana, pop. 7280, there’s a bustling farmers market and an organic coffee shop. That the top headline in the Bozeman Daily Chronicle yesterday was, “Want to go green? Join the waiting list.” And that Missoula has a cozy new spot called Biga Pizza, which sources most ingredients locally. What a find! Here in Seattle, local food tends toward the upscale. But Biga felt less precious, more democratic. Even if our pizza of morels, fresh ricotta, basil, and bay oil should have been called Yuppie Delight. And even if the pizza crust, with its hint of sweetness and tangy hit of sour starter, was made from organic Montana flour.

The two of us got very full for $12 plus tax and tip. Now that’s what I’m talking about. Local food for the people.

Awfully good when you’re carbo-loading, too.

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