With the clink of artisan martinis and the pang of steep menu prices, it’s clear that Grange Kitchen and Bar on Liberty Street has joined the legions of swanky Ann Arbor hot spots. Grange is definitely trendy, but not just for its chill atmosphere and prime location. The restaurant, which opened in Bella Ciao’s old space this summer, is based on a more consequential trend: eating local.

Eating food grown and processed nearby isn’t a novelty. The idea of cutting out the middleman has been lauded as environmentally friendly and beneficial to local economies for a long time. But now, as climate change becomes a more pressing issue and the locavore movement grows, the quest is to maintain the most sustainable diet possible. To the most ardent locavores, their place on the sustainability spectrum is a measure of their love for the earth and their loyalty to the floundering Great Lakes State.

But the plausibility of adhering to a strict 100-mile-radius diet in a state that freezes over for much of the year is questionable. It’s difficult, but not impossible. The first step is committing to eating seasonally, or in other words, forsaking exotic fruits for vegetables that can be cultivated year round. And there are more locally grown options than may be expected. Thanks to a plethora of local farms, chefs and grocers dedicated to sustainability, any Ann Arborite can eat with a conscience in the dead of winter.

SUSTAINABLE GOURMET

Brandon Johns, head chef and owner of Grange, doesn’t like to be tethered to the political label of locavore, but his clean and simple dining room exudes an air of “back to the basics”. The decor is sparse and modest: wooden floors are surrounded by spring green walls, where unframed canvasses showcase photos of thick julienned eggplant, hands cradling golden tomatoes and blood oranges sliced in half.

On each place setting, sand-colored cloth napkins complement a white linen tablecloth, and the one-page menu is typed on material not unlike a paper grocery bag.

For Johns, using local ingredients isn’t just about conserving the environment. First and foremost, it’s about assuring that his food is the freshest and best it can be.

“My main aim is to have a restaurant that serves great food, and to source as much as I can locally at the same time, because I think those things go hand in hand,” he said. “I’m not walking home with a flag on top of my head. I really just did it because I wanted good food. Then the political, social and environmental reasons that everyone’s sort of hot to hop on now came to light.”

All but one of Grange’s 13 food sources listed on its website are in Michigan, with five producers based in Washtenaw County that provide Johns with fresh fruit, meat, eggs, coffee and more. Besides alcohol and spices, Grange’s one out-of-state source is a farm in Ontario, Canada that produces millet.

As crops in Michigan are harvested at different set points each year, the trick to Johns’s trade is reimagining Grange’s menu to suit changes in the season. According to Johns, asparagus is only available locally for four weeks in the spring, but most everything else that grows here — tomatoes, peaches, pears, carrots, squash, apples, onions, apricots — are available until mid- or late October. Wintertime brings root vegetables like potatoes and hardier greens like kale and mustard leaves.

“I just always wanted to cook with the season,” Johns said. “As the season changes, your body changes what it needs.”

Right now, the menu is heavy on fish, meat, potatoes and squash. Conspicuously absent are traditional side dishes like broccoli and asparagus. But it is clear that Johns has applied some creativity in drumming up dishes that play to fall’s strong points, such as with an entrée of cider braised beef, roasted parsnips and pumpkin ravioli, or a vegetarian option offering zucchini and squash cakes with wilted greens and spiced tomato sauce.

As a whole, a local menu is more expensive to fill than a conventional one, so it demands that he be creative to compensate for the cost.

“I spend 12, 13, 14 dollars a chicken, where Tyson chickens would cost me three bucks a chicken,” Johns said. “Now I think the difference is worth it — you can completely taste it. But it also makes me use a lot of parts that no one else does. A lot of sausage.”

However, some customers that seek out Johns’ natural philosophy might want to fully understand it before they sit down.

“People complain about the duck, they say, ‘It’s too tough,’” he said. “And I go to the table and I say, ‘Well, the duck got to walk around. The duck evolved muscles.’ ”

Johns faces a challenge in running a restaurant with a self-enforced ingredient constraint. It’s not enough to find a local producer — he must also make sure that producer is using chemical-free cultivation and processing methods to assure the produce is of the highest quality.