Mundane Ethnography

A summer photoethnography

2011-07-29T12:42:00.002-05:00

Beers on a Minneapolis rooftop patio

City boys on a Minnesota farm

Summer picnic (Minnesota)

Farm pizza kitchen (Minnesota)

Sunday musing...

2011-07-17T12:37:00.002-05:00

"To eat is a necessity, but to eat intelligently is an art." --M.F.K. Fisher

The Anthropology Song

2011-03-06T23:30:00.003-06:00

I have to post this here. It is not particularly new, but it is simply awesome.

An Apology to Peas

2010-08-15T16:18:00.005-05:00

As a child I exhibited mediocre eating skills. I was not the worst eater in the world, but I was far from adventurous. Now that I have friends with children I see them tearing their hair out trying to get their kids to eat any sort of fruit or vegetable. All except my friend Sasha who has absolutely no problem getting her almost-three-year-old son, Dylan, to eat anything. Dylan is amazing. I only hope that Ben and I will be blessed with such an audacious eater for a child. Sasha strolled into work one morning telling me that Dylan did not eat lunch the day before because he devoured a three-egg omelet for breakfast. A three-egg omelet!! Dylan loves salsa to the point of drinking it straight from the jar, and he eats more raspberries than a baby bear. The point of telling you about Dylan is that I was not like Dylan as a child—far, far from it.

I ate bananas, occasionally (I went through phases), and I always liked strawberries. For the most part I was fine with fruit. However, vegetables presented an entirely different situation. Raw vegetables were fine, but only with Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing to dip them in (much to my mother’s chagrin). Cooked vegetables, on the other hand, did not go over well in my books, and the worst culprits were peas.

My mom accompanied dinner with peas a lot. I understand why. A bag of frozen peas provides the green on your plate in merely four minutes in the microwave. And don’t get me wrong, my mother is an amazing cook (of course I did not appreciate it back then). She did not serve copious amounts of peas because she did not know how to prepare anything else. But more often than not, if she made roast chicken, pork loin, or any sort of casserole thing she would pull out the bag of frozen peas to go on the side. Easy-peasy.

I don’t even remember when I started to like peas. It was not an epiphany in my life. When I was about twelve or thirteen I began to try foods that I previously thought were volatile, and often the moment was like clouds parting with angels singing down to me as I thought to myself, “My God! This is amazing! How could I have not liked this before?!” Avocados were such a food. Peas on the other hand never provided me this moment of manifestation.

However, I now love peas. Yes, I don’t just like peas; I love peas. They are so versatile. I steam them in the microwave and add just a pat of butter with some salt and pepper. Or I can turn two bags of frozen peas, an onion, and some chicken broth into an amazing soup in less than half and hour. Thrown into pasta peas provide color and delightful bursts of sweetness. Combined with crumbled bacon and sautéed garlic, peas transform into an elegant side dish (although that magic may be in the bacon). And oh my goodness, I even love frozen peas straight from the bag. Yes, still frozen. They are the perfect, cold, guiltless snack food for a hot Sunday afternoon.

So, I owe peas an apology. I am sorry for pushing your around on my plate for so many years. I am sorry for all the faces I pulled at you. I was a philistine back then. As Manuel from Fawlty Towers would say, “I [knew] nothing…”

Moral of the story: Don’t hate on peas.

Meat Manifesto part II: Political Reasons

2010-02-24T13:33:00.009-06:00

When I was writing my senior thesis in college, my advisor grilled me, as usual, during one of our meetings, “Melissa, you need to talk about the politics of this.”

I was writing my thesis on the newspaper coverage of the debates around oil drilling in the Arctic National Wildlife Reserve, and I was struggling with a section of my paper that I did not perceive as political. I merely thought it was coincidence, happenstance--simply “the way things are”. My advisor then said to me, “Melissa, everything is political.” She pulled a tomato out of her bag of groceries sitting next to her desk, and she said to me, “This tomato is political. Tell me how.”

I started to think. At first, I thought she was off her rocker. It was a freakin’ tomato. Some people like tomatoes; some people don’t—what is political about that? But then I thought, and I said, “Well, the sticker on it says it is from Mexico. Who picked that tomato?”

“Yes!” she said. “And how much did they get paid? Who is their boss? How much is he getting paid? How did this tomato get to the supermarket where I bought it? What determined how much I paid for this tomato? You see, everything is political.”

The lesson I learned that day in college stuck with me. I find that indeed, everything is political. I promised that the word “politics” would foreshadow an upcoming post about meat. Well dear reader, finally, here it is.

Part one of my meat manifesto explained the rational (and to some extent, moral) reasons why I eat meat. When I think about whether or not to eat meat in an intuitive, thought-out way, it makes sense that eating meat is perfectly kosher. I am acting in the natural order of the universe. However, the most crucial point I made in that post is that this particular realization is not the end of the meat discussion; it is just the beginning.

So here we get to the politics. How do I define politics? For now, let’s define it as, “assumptions or principles relating to theory, or thing, especially when concerned with power and status in a society,” to borrow from the Oxford English Dictionary. Look back at my tomato example. How does the tomato relate to the people or institutions that hold power and influence in our society? A tomato is not just a tomato—there is a whole story behind it. So what is the political story behind meat that convinces me it is politically a good idea to eat it?

I consciously eat meat for two distinct political reasons that intertwine with each other. First, I believe in eating meat in order to support the farmers and ranchers who raise domestic animals in a way that upholds both our “domestication contract ” and our environmental duty to ensure that we leave behind a planet that provides for future generations. As I explained in Part I of my Meat Manifesto, eating meat that is reared in the correct way is both morally OK and environmentally sustainable. I believe in using my money to support the small guys; it is a political statement, and it means that I enjoy the tastiest and most excellent meat there is.

The second political reason I choose to eat meat is because I believe that the mainstream alternative to meat eating—a diet and food industry based on soy and corn—is just as harmful to the livelihoods of others, and to the environment, as the mainstream industrial meat industry. Although it is easy to be repulsed by the intensive and industrial way that the majority of our meat is produced, simply cutting meat out of our diet does not absolve us of the atrocities of the industrial food system. As I said before, in this day and age, even the vegetarian diet need serious examination.

Let me explain further…

The problem with current day, mainstream vegetarianism is that too many non-meat eaters replace the meat in their diet with highly processed soy products. Logically, this makes sense. Soy is high in protein, and food items made from soy (tofu and not to mention the countless fake “meat” products like fakin’ bacon, soy lunch “meats,” Tofurkey, soy “sausage,” etc.) feel “meaty” and satisfying—they fill you up. It seems easy to give up meat if you can still eat “bacon”.

However, if we examine these soy products a little further we find that the soy (and corn) industry is just as ethically and ecologically irresponsible as the industrial meat industry.

I do not want this post to turn into a rant against the soy industry and the problems with excessive human soy consumption, so I will try my best to stay on track here and keep this as directly related to the meat debate as I can, but bear with me as I veer off the meat-track for just a bit. Don’t worry; this will come full circle. But first, I need to give you a little political background to genetically modified crops, because most of the soy that mainstream vegetarians base their diet on comes from GM soy crops.

Genetically modified crops are a very, very new phenomenon in the global food system. In 1990 there were no GM crops on the market. However, in 2008, 90% of soy grown in the United States was from a genetically modified (GM) strain of soybeans. We still have yet to learn of the possible benefits and consequences of this scientific breakthrough. Never before have humans been able to alter the genes of a living species, let alone eat the results. However, this debate is ongoing and based on predictions and still-yet-to-be-determined scientific evidence. I see the major problem with GM food as something that is not related to nutrition, but to politics and power. Let me illustrate my point with a specific example.

A decade ago, two European biotech plant researchers found a way to splice a daffodil gene into a rice plant. When this plant matured, the rice grains turned a translucent yellow color. That yellow color (from the daffodil plant genes) was due to beta-carotene. Beta-carotene is the same nutrient that makes oranges, carrots, bell peppers and most other yellow or orange foods yellow or orange color. In humans, beta-carotene becomes the essential nutrient known as Vitamin A. Vitamin A assists our bodies in all sorts of ways, many of which we know (like eyesight—remember your mom told you to eat lots of carrots so that you could see in the dark??) and many of which we are only beginning to understand (like how it is related to cancer prevention).

Left: conventional white rice. Right: Golden Rice. Image from Macalester University Environmental Studies homepage.

When we discovered that we could put an essential nutrient into a rice grain, it seemed as if we had a scientific miracle—viola!—a possible answer to world hunger and malnutrition. Vitamin A deficiency causes blindness and death in millions of undernourished populations in Asia and Africa, where rice is also a staple food. This new breakthrough seemed as if it could save millions of lives.

However, there was a huge catch. This grain could not be distributed free to poor farmers because biotechnology companies owned more than forty different patents on the various methods and lab tools that are necessary to create the new variety of rice. While the actual strain of rice, known as Golden Rice, was discovered with public money and thus was free, the process necessary to make the rice was patented. This “invention” was essentially owned by agribusiness—anyone planting Golden Rice would have to pay royalties on the patent.

The story of Golden Rice is not the first having to do with GM crops, and Golden Rice was certainly not the first GM food invented. However, the story illustrates what I see as the major shortcoming of genetically modified organisms—a problem of ownership. Once the United States Supreme Court determined that GM crops could be patented, biotech companies started a GMO-race to invent as many patented crops as they could. Within a matter of years we had new strains of frost resistant tomatoes (made by splicing halibut genes into the tomato plant), potatoes that had pesticides spliced into their genetic makeup, (causing any bug to eat their leaves to wither up and die), and Roundup Ready soy and corn (I’ll get to this one in a bit). Huge multi-billion dollar companies held the patents to each one of these new plant species. Agribusiness owned plants—living organisms. Agribusiness owned food. The top executives saw world hunger as an enormous business opportunity. Recently, an executive from a large food company said, “The solution to global hunger is to turn malnutrition into a market opportunity.”

(There is more here to be said about the story of Golden Rice and the patenting laws around GM crops, but this would steer my discussion farther off course into the benefits vs. risks of genetically modified foods. I want to try to keep this discussion reined in and related to the meat debate.)

The GM patent race continued, and the US patent office granted two of the most influential GM patents to Monsanto for their Roundup Ready soy and corn. In 1996 Monsanto made Roundup Ready Soy available for the market. Roundup, the most commonly used herbicide in the world, was (and still is) the shining star of Monsanto. Essentially, their scientists discovered a way to splice the herbicide into a soy plant’s genes, making that soy plant resistant to the effects of the Roundup herbicide. A farmer could plant a field of Roundup Ready soy and spray his entire field with Roundup; every living thing except for that soy plant would die. Easy-peasy farming. No more weeds, no more pests.

Now, here is the major the problem with the fact that Monsanto owns the patent for the Roundup Ready soybean: any farmer using Roundup Ready soybeans must pay royalties to Monsanto. This means that farmers cannot save the seed from a Roundup Ready crop to plant the following season—that is patent infringement. Farmers must purchase Monsanto Roundup Ready seeds year after year. However, the problem is not so cut and dry. Plants, even genetically modified plants, are living, breathing, and breeding species. Left to their own devices, plants will cross-pollinate, spreading their genes to ensure the survival of their own species. If Farmer A purchases Monsanto Roundup Ready soybeans and plant them in his field, there is nothing stopping bees, birds, and the wind from carrying the pollen (and hence, the plant’s genetically modified genes) down wind to the fields where Farmer B has planted a field of organic, non-GM soybeans. The next year, when Farmer B plants the seeds that he saved from his organic soy crop, unbeknownst to him, he plants a genetically modified, Roundup Ready crop.

There are countless cases in which Monsanto’s representatives sought out farmers such as Farmer B, accusing them of patent infringement. Monsanto reps (and their lawyers) came and tested the fields of farmers in the area of where Roundup Ready soy had been planted. Naturally, cross-pollination took place, and Organic Farmer B is now being sued by Monsanto for patent infringement. Often these farmers have no choice but to settle the case, and destroy their entire crops and all of their saved seed. It has happened time after time in the past fifteen years.

Here is a YouTube Clip from a fabulous documentary, The Future of Food, in which a farmer explains his run-in with Monsanto:

And if you are interested, here is another YouTube Clip of Vandana Shiva, an Indian food activist, explaining some of the major problems with GM crops (including Golden Rice)

As I said before, at least 90% of the soybeans produced in the United States are now genetically modified. There are no laws that require food manufactures to disclose that they use GM soy to make their products, so there is a good chance that if you are eating soy that is not USDA certified organic, you are more than likely eating genetically modified soy.

I said I would bring this full circle, back to the meat debate. What does this all mean in relation to my meat manifesto? Well, the fact that many modern day vegetarians base their diet on soy means that they are, consciously or not, supporting this industry. This money all goes back to Monsanto, and by eating GM soy your dollars support a company that is bankrupting small farmers and creating massive mono-cultures of soy fields that are in turn doused with herbicides. In a field of Roundup Ready soybeans, every living thing on that plot of land is dead except for the soy plant itself. I believe that this “farming” practice is far more detrimental for our planet than a system where cows, chickens, and pigs graze on open grass pasture.

I refrain from entering the debate over whether or not GM crops are good or bad for human health from a nutritional science standpoint. I can see that a crop like Golden Rice could save the lives of millions of people. However, it does not matter how nutritionally superior that crop is if it is owned by agribusiness and requires farmers to be indebted to a large corporation. The fact that GM crops are controlled by multi-billion dollar biotech companies that bankrupt small farmers is reason enough for me oppose such a system of farming.

As I said before, I believe that basing one’s diet on soy is just as environmentally and ethically detrimental as basing one’s diet on industrially farmed meat. The impact upon the earth and the lives of other humans and animals is just as great. That being said, just as we can eat meat in an ethically and environmentally responsible way, so can we lead a vegetarian lifestyle in an ethically and environmentally responsible way. However, we must not believe that by cutting meat out of our diet we are being environmentally responsible eaters. Today, every type of diet needs to be consciously examined.

Unfortunately, our food system is not transparent, and to understand what exactly we are eating takes a fair bit of research. I hope that this changes. I believe that first and foremost we need to institute labeling laws, forcing food processors to disclose where and how the ingredients in their products are grown, farmed and produced. The European Union already has such laws in place. The United States is pathetically behind on this front.

Everything that I mentioned thus far is reason enough for me to refuse to pay for, and eat, the vast majority of soy products that I come across. And this leads me back to my first political reason for eating meat: to support the farmers who are raising meat in an ethically and environmentally responsible way. With every dollar that you spend on food, you are voting for the food system that you believe in. Twenty years ago, organic food was scarce. Many people did not know what the term “organic” meant. Because of consumer awareness, which quickly resulted in consumer demand, organic food is now a $20 billion industry. Consumers do have the power to change the system. If more and more people use their money to support small ranchers and farmers, more small ranches and farms will be able to survive.

Support farmers like this guy with your food dollars

I realize that Monsanto and other large biotech companies will never become obsolete, but I am certain that if enough people choose to spend their money on ethically and environmentally good food, we will ensure that there is a viable alternative for those of us who do not want to partake in the industrialized mainstream.

I also understand that at this point we enter the debate as to who has the money and the means to purchase environmentally and ethically “good” food, and that is a tricky debate—one that I certainly am aware of, and unfortunately do not have all the answers to. This is a debate that is best suited for another post. (However, you can read some related thoughts of mine that I wrote about in a previous post.)

Ultimately, I think the key is to remember the tomato lesson—that everything is political. The choices we make do affect the society that we live in. It may seem that we have no effect in shaping the system that we are a part of, however, the reason that I can buy organic grass-fed meat from a small farm in Missouri is one hundred percent due to the critical mass behind the food movement—one hundred percent due to the political choices by everyday consumers. Politics seems like a daunting and bad thing, but politics can result in good things also. That is why I hope that if we have the luxury to make a choice, we do so in the most educated and conscious way possible.

The conclusion to my Meat Manifesto is yet to come. I promise that it will be more optimistic and a bit easier to “digest” than this behemoth of a post.

***The first image of this post is from the blog, Surviving the Middle Class Crash, where you can read further about Monsanto and GM crops

Pot Roast and Happy Pigs

2010-02-06T16:55:00.001-06:00

I have things to tell you.

I just have not been in the mood to think about food politics lately--and I know that I need to finish telling you about meat. Unfortunately, this discussion gets so political, and I want to figure out a way to discuss the issues without sounding like I am standing on my soapbox screaming into the void.

So for now, a brief anecdote and......drum roll please........a recipe {gasp!}. Yes, I previously said that I do not write about recipes, and I do not intend this to be a recipe blog, simply because there are so many recipe blogs out there in the bloggosphere. However, I have been talking about meat, thinking about meat, dreaming about meat (and cheese, actually), and cooking lots of meat, so I thought that I would share my new most favorite way to eat beef.

First, my anecdote.

Happy animals really, really, really do make wonderful meat. The day before yesterday, Ben and I and two of our friends drove four hours to Ann Arbor, Michigan for lunch. Now, we did not just go anywhere in Ann Arbor for lunch. This was a pilgrimage--a pilgrimage to Zingerman's Deli, the most amazing specialty food shop in North America...in my humble opinion. As my friend Charlie put it, "If I had to spend eternity in any one place, it would be Zingerman's." Yes, it is that amazing.

Not only does Zingerman's import the best of the best of the most amazing food products in the world (think 115 year old balsamic vinegar, for a mere $700 for the 2 oz bottle), but they have a policy that states, "What you see, you can taste" (the only item in the store this policy does not extend to is that 115 year old bottle of balsamic vinegar).

Well, so what does this have to do with happy animals and amazing meat? Well, Zingerman's was one of the first places in the United States to sell Jamon Ibérico when it finally became available in the the US in 2007.

Jamon Ibérico is cured ham made from the cerdo negro (black pig), native to southern Spain. After weaning the pigs, the producers of Jamon Ibérico feed the piglets barley and maize for several weeks before they are let loose to romp around the oak forests of Southwest Spain. During their lives, they mainly feed upon acorns--which are like ice cream to pigs,their absolute favorite food--roots, herbs, and anything else they can forage for on the forest floor. For several weeks before they are slaughtered, they are fed solely on acorns.

The curing process begins by salting the hams from the slaughtered pigs and leaving them to dry for two weeks. The producers then rinse the hams and leave them to dry further for another four to six weeks, at minimum. The curing process for premium hams takes at least twelve months, although some producers cure their jamones ibéricos for up to 36 months.

The result is like no meat you have ever tasted. It is sweet and nutty. The fat on the ham is snow white, and melts like frosting on your tongue. If you ever have a chance to try Jamon Ibérico, I highly recommend it. It really shows you how the lifestyle and diet of an animal affects the way the meat tastes. As I said, these pigs are some of the happiest pigs in the world. They are left to roam free and be social, dig and burrow in the earth, eat and bath in the sunlight. And when that inevitable time for slaughter comes, they are slaughtered in the most humane and least stressful way--a far cry from the way pigs are slaughtered at industrial meat packing plants.

OK, so onto a recipe. A friend recommended that I post the recipe for my new most favorite way to eat beef: pot-roast.

When you are living on a tight budget, rib-eye and New York strip steak are just not a feasible option. Chuck roast, on the other hand, we can work into the grocery list. I strongly believe that it is so well worth it to eat meat far less often, and spend more money on the good stuff when you do. This means asking for 100% grass-fed beef, preferably from a ranch or farm that you know about and have done your research on. A good butcher will be able to tell you where he gets his meat from. So, for this recipe, really try to use only the best quality beef you can find. I bought 100% grass-fed beef raised on a farm in Michigan--I bought it at Whole Foods, for $5.99 a pound. A 4.4 lb chuck roast cost me just about $25.00, but I cut it in half, freezing the other part, which means that dinner for Ben and I was just $12.50, for some damn good meat. And we have the other half of the roast to look forward to another time. So the following recipe is for a 4 lb roast, I used a 2 lb roast and halved the recipe. Just make sure that if you do half the recipe, you use an appropriate sized pot--one that fits the roast snugly and is not too big.

Red Wine Braised Pot Roast
adapted from Molly Stevens' Zinfandel Pot Roast with Glazed Carrots and & Fresh Sage (All About Braising, W.W. Norton & Company, 2004)

Serves 6--Braising time: about 3 hours

A 3.5 to 4lb boneless, 100% grass-fed beef chuck roast

coarse (or kosher) salt and freshly ground pepper

2 tbsp olive oil

1 large onion, coarsely chopped

2 carrots, coarsely chopped

1 celery stalk, coarsely chopped

2-4 cloves of garlic (depending on how much you like garlic), peeled and smashed

1 cup of robust, dry red wine (only use wine that you would want to drink--don't use 2 Buck Chuck). I have used Cabernet, Malbec, Zinfandel, and Tempranillo, all with fantastic results. Just remember that all the flavors and nuances of the wine are going to be concentrated in flavor in your final roast, so really only use wine that you would want to drink--this does not mean expensive wine, just decent drinkable wine.

1 cup beef, veal, or chicken stock (I always use chicken stock, just because that is what I always have on hand)

A handful of fresh, leafy sage sprigs (about 3-4)

A handful of fresh parsley

8-10 black or green peppercorns

1. Heat the oven to 300 degrees F

2. If your butcher did not tie your meat for you, tie some kitchen twine around the meat so that it holds together in a nice shape that is easy to pick up with tongs.

3. Pat the meat very dry with some paper towels (this is very important to get a nice brown crust). Season very well with salt and pepper, all over. Heat the olive oil in a heavy, Dutch Oven pot. With the heat at medium-hot, add the the beef and DO NOT MOVE it for at least 3-4 minutes. This will ensure that you get a nice brown crust. If you move it around, it will not brown properly. Repeat this on all the sides of the meat until it is nicely browned. Remove the meat from the pot and set it on a plate to catch the juice. If there are any charred bits in the pot, wipe them out with a paper towel, but try to leave the lovely dripping in the pan, because they will add lots of flavor to your roast.

4. Return the pot to medium-high heat and add the onion, carrot, celery, and garlic. Season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring often, until just starting to brown--about 5 minutes. Pour in the wine, scrape the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon to release all the delicious brown crusty bits that were stuck to the bottom. Breath in the wonderful aroma of red wine and browning onions (you must savor this whole process). Boil the wine, and wait for it to reduce by about half--about 6 minutes. Add the stock, return to a boil, and boil to reduce this by about one third--about another 5 minutes. Return the meat to the pot, and throw in the sage, parsley, and peppercorns. Cover with a piece of parchment paper, pressing down so that it nearly touches the meat and the edges of the paper overhang the pot but at least an inch. Cover the pot tightly with the lid. (The parchment paper ensures that the moisture distributes evenly as it evaporates and condenses inside the pot.)

5. Place the pot in the lower third of your oven and braise until for tender, about 3 hours. You should turn the roast over about half way through, but I have forgotten to do this before, and it still turned out OK, so don't freak out if you forget.

6. Remove the pot from the oven. Life the beef out with tongs and set on a carving board with a well to catch the juices, and cover with foil to keep warm. Strain the cooking liquid, pressing down on the solids to remove as much juice as possible. Discard the solids and return the juice to the pot, set over high heat. Let the juices come to a boil and reduce until you like the consistency and flavor--should be about 1-2 minutes. You can adjust the flavor with a little salt or pepper.

7. Remove the strings from the roast and cut into 1/2 inch thick slices. Pour juices over the meat and serve with roasted vegetables and mashed or roasted potatoes. Pass remaining sauce around the table, along with a bottle of red wine--of course. Savor every bite.

**Bonus** Don't forget to make roast beef sandwiches with Dijon mustard, arugula, and blue cheese the next day with your leftovers!!!

Sorry, I don't have a photo--we ate it too fast for me to remember to take any pictures.

Snack Time?? Americans may be shooting themselves in the foot

2010-01-22T13:07:00.009-06:00

photo from the New York Times

I thought this article in the New York Times was very poignant and interesting.

I love snacking just as much as the next person. In fact, I love snacking TOO much. I am prone to eating too many handfuls of pretzels and then feeling a bit bloated come dinner time. I know that I feel my best when I eat three healthy meals a day and don't snack in-between. My food tastes better, and I actually eat less at meals.

However, common American nutrition wisdom expounds that snacking is key to staying in control of one's eating. While this may be true for some people (and I know many people who consider themselves "grazers"), we may be taking this snacking wisdom to the extreme. And according to this NY Times piece, we are conditioned from a young age to reach for the cookies and crackers between meals.

This article brings up a number of issues: the loss of the family meal, the food industry targeting children in their advertisements, questionable parenting techniques, and the lack of cooking going on in American homes, just to name a few. However, I find it very interesting that the author asserts that the food industry responded to the American demand for more pre-packaged, easy to grab, snack food.

"Indeed, this nation consumed $68.1 billion in packaged snack foods in 2008, up from $60 billion in 2004, according to Packaged Facts, a consumer research group. One of the newest concepts — and among the best sellers, Ms. Nielsen said — are 100-calorie packs of cookies and other junk foods. They are targeted at parents, who are always looking for something to toss into the backpack for after-school time."

Yes, I agree that parents are looking for these easy to grab snack foods. However, I wonder how much of the snacking phenomenon is driven by consumers and how much is driven by the advertisers. This is a difficult thing to determine--much like the chicken or the egg conundrum. And I certainly do not know the answer to this myself. Did the food industry see a demand and respond accordingly? Yes. Or do the pervasive advertisements and culture around snacking in the US create the demand in the first place? Perhaps??

I do not have children, so I am not one to speak authoritatively on this issue. Are snacks necessary for young children? If they are necessary, is it easy to make sure that your child eats healthy snack foods, like fruit, vegetables, and cheese? It seems that no matter what your best intentions are as a parent feeding your child, he or she will get "junk" snack foods from outside sources. When I was young, my brother and I were only allowed fruit between meals if we were hungry. But then again, I know that I did not grow up in the average American household. And I definitely remember scarfing down, and thoroughly enjoying, Oreo cookies and Hi-C after basketball games--both snacks that other parents provided. My mom always brought the homemade granola bars and 100% juice boxes.

Anyway, food for thought. I thought the article points to some interesting phenomena happening around the way that Americans eat.

Still more to come on meat....

Meat Manifesto, Part One: Rational reasons and right

2010-01-18T22:17:00.008-06:00

If I were a koala bear, I would not think about what to eat; I would nosh on eucalyptus leaves all day. Unfortunately, we simply cannot pick one food to exist upon. We require many different nutrients from a variety of sources in order to survive.

Being omnivorous has its benefits and its drawbacks. Unlike koala bears, our existence does not depend upon one particular species also staying in existence. However, being omnivorous means that we must think about what to eat. Genetic coding does not program our brain to eat only one specific food. We learn from our parents, our grandparents and our peers what good food is (mmmm, ripe mangoes) and what to stay away from (those weird mushrooms).

Ironically, although our human food system has advanced drastically in the past one hundred years, we still have a similar, “omnivore’s dilemma” to deal with on a daily basis. This is the main idea behind that famous book by Michael Pollan. While one hundred years ago we struggled to determine whether or not this particular potato would nourish or poison us, today we look at any item in the supermarket and experience the exact same quandary, but on more modern terms. While we used to ask, “Is the purple potato or the red potato better to eat? Will one of them poison me?” We now wonder, “Is the Balance bar or the apple better for my health? Which one help will ward off cancer, heart disease, and diabetes?”

So, while the question of eating meat used to be one type of rational question, “How did this animal die? Will eating this meat make me sick?” Our new rational question may be, “How was this animal treated, raised, and killed?” and “Is eating this animal right?”

And this is the first point of my meat manifesto: Is eating meat right? Are humans in this day and age supposed to eat meat? Is eating meat a sustainable practice for humans, the animals we eat, and our planet?

Well, let’s start from the standpoint of a “vegetarian utopia,” whereupon everyone stopped eating meat. This concept is borrowed from a personal hero of mine, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, an English food writer and sustainable food advocate. As Fearnley-Whittingstall says, a vegetarian utopia is a nice idea, but in the end it is too simplistic and naïve. “It misunderstands the nature of our connections with other species and amounts to another form of denial of our shared moral sphere…”

The undeniable fact is that any species’ pursuit of its interest to survive and breed will result in impact on the rest of the planet. The whale eats plankton; the shark eats the seal; the tick feeds off the dog; the maggot eats dead flesh. Animals are supposed to eat other animals, and this is a fact of life that humans are not exempt from. We are here today because our ancestors ate other animals. Life with no death does not exist.

However, this fact of life does not exempt us completely from moral obligation. The bottom line is that humans have a greater impact upon this planet than any other species. It is hard to think of another species that is not affected by our presence. I think that it is crucial to remember that vegetarian humans are no exception to this rule. To think that NOT eating animals makes us exempt from the moral weight that we carry in affecting life on this earth is just being ignorant and hypocritical. The claim that the vegetarian is in some way morally superior to the meat eater needs serious examination.

Domesticated animals (cows, chickens, pigs, sheep, and goats) exist because we raise them to eat. Their lives and livelihoods are dependent upon us. We control almost every aspect of their lives—when they breed, how they give birth, what they eat, when they eat, and ultimately when and how they die. We are responsible for their happiness and their health, their pain and their suffering, and their freedom from it. We have done this for thousands of years, and because of this relationship—these responsibilities we have taken on—these animals could not exist without us. They have evolved to be dependent upon us. It is all down to us.

This relationship would not end if we were to suddenly stop eating them. Fearnley-Whittingstall observes that if we ceased to kill these animals, they would still rely on us to live. What would we do with them?, he asks. Would we release them into the “wild”? Would we create refuges for them, like wildlife parks, where the “wildlife” is not actually wild? We would still be responsible for their well-being; so does this mean that if they were sick and suffering it would be our responsibility to put them down, in order to ease their pain? Then are we allowed to eat them? Or do we need to bury them, in which case we would eat the plants that their bodies nourished, so would we still be eating them anyway?

So in this vegetarian utopia, what would our new food growing landscape look like? Yes, it takes MUCH more energy to produce a pound a meat than a pound of grain. But also, to produce that pound of grain, the grasses need the symbiotic relationship of the animals in order to survive. Each time that a blade of grass is grazed down by an animal, it sheds an equal amount of its root. The roots that the grass sheds composts into the soils, putting nutrients back in order to ensure the healthy growth of more grass and plants. If the grass is not grazed down, it continues to grow and take more and more nutrients from the soil, which are not replenished. Thus, even the grass cannot survive without the ruminant. We need plenty of these grazing domestic animals to ensure that we have an adequate supply of grain, fruits, and vegetables.

But if these grazing animal populations are not kept in balance, their populations will expand beyond their food supply. If we do not maintain the populations by killing some of the animals, they will eat the grass quicker than it can replenish itself. Not only will these animals eventually succumb to starvation and suffering, but it will also cause our own starvation as we no longer have any means to grow our own vegetables, fruits, and grains on nutritionally depleted soil.

Thus, not killing these animals directly, we still have the responsibility for their well-being. If we do not kill them directly, we are still killing them indirectly. As Fearnley-Whittingstall asks, is it “better to have their blood on our hands only metaphorically, not literally?”

So then, when we reduce this vegetarian utopia down to its fundamental tenant, that killing animals is always and absolutely wrong, we see that rationally, it does not actually make that much sense. If we look at the other aspect of the vegetarian argument, that not eating meat is more environmentally friendly for the planet, we can also see major inconsistencies. These inconsistencies are supplemented by the fact that many vegetarians today rely on soy as the major source of protein in their diet (whether this be the soy-based fake “meats,” soy in the form of tofu, or straight up soy beans). I will not go into this issue in this post, but today’s soy industry is arguably just as environmentally detrimental as the cattle industry, especially when you consider that as of 2008, 90% of soy in the United States comes from genetically modified (GMO) soybeans. But as I said, this is the discussion for another whole post.

Back to our discussion on the rational reasons for meat eating, we can see that by eating meat, we are not acting outside of the natural order of things. If we don’t kill domesticated animals to eat, something or somebody else will. It is a fact of nature—a fact of life. Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall also points out that, of all the available deaths for an animal to face, being killed in order for another animal to eat it is among the least traumatic and painful ways to die. In nature, dying of old age really does not exist. Animals who are weak, old, and sick are killed first by other species for food, far before it succumbs to the disease or injury itself. Humans do not act outside of this sphere. We kill animals for food, animals who would eventually die another way. If done correctly and humanely, the deaths that we inflict upon these animals is far quicker and more painless than any other death that they may be subject to. The key here is, “if done correctly.”

So, this brings us to the crux of this argument. Just because rationally we have determined that eating meat is in fact a natural thing to do, does not exempt us of our responsibilities towards these animals. This rational decision to eat meat does not end this discussion. No. Quite the opposite. This is only the beginning of the discussion. Because we now have made the decision to raise these animals so that we can eat them, we have entered upon a contract, a moral obligation, to care for these animals and make sure that they lead happy and healthy lives until the point of their death. In exchange for protecting them, feeding them, helping them give birth, and ensuring that they are protected from other predators for the span of their lives, we get to nourish ourselves off of their milk, their eggs, and their flesh.

Unfortunately, this contract is not being upheld. We are not holding up our end of the bargain. Rather, many of these animals are subject to more pain, more stress, more sickness, and more torture due to our own greed. In the end, this breach of contract will come back to bite us. It already has in the form of E coli, Salmonella, and heart disease. The breach of contract is not sustainable for us, the animals we eat, or for our planet.

So, once again, we come back to our omnivore’s dilemma. We look at the ground beef in the supermarket and think, “Am I upholding or breaking my contract to the cow in eating this meat? Will this beef make me sick? Did this cow live a good life so that ultimately I can nourish my body on his flesh?” How do we know? Well, unfortunately it is not all that simple. It really is a dilemma. In many ways, it would be so much easier to be that koala bear.

Winter in Chicago--a photo ethnography

2010-01-16T10:12:00.007-06:00

Coming from California, people always ask me how I handle the Chicago winters. My dirty secret is that I love Chicago in the winter. I feel that the true character of Chicago shows its face during the depths of the winter months.

Max Weber once likened Chicago to, "a human being with his skin removed." I know that sounds vulgar, but there is something also beautiful about it--about the ugliness and rawness of the image. That is Chicago in the winter--naked, ugly, raw, and yet beautiful and elegant in the way that it carries this ugliness. The city speaks to me in the winter. The clatter, voices, and bustle of tourists and suburbanites evaporates with the last days of above freezing temperatures. The veil of green leaves and sandy beaches disappears. The ice, snow and frozen mud encroach upon the shoreline; the trees show their skinny, bare, naked form; and the lake...the lake is a monster--a beautiful monster--rearing its head back, spitting and snarling.

And then there are the thaws. The random, magical days during the depths of winter when the sun comes out and the temperature rises above freezing. The snow melts. The birds come out of hiding. The sky is so blue, and the lake is so calm, quite and pacified. The little bits of life you see coming out on these thaw days are so vibrant--soaking up as much sun as possible, knowing that it will turn back to grey, snow, and ice soon.

So here are some photos that I took last week, followed by photos I took two days ago. Today the sky is grey again. It is not that cold, but it is a good day to stay inside and write. I promise, more on meat is coming, but for now, enjoy the beauty of Chicago winter.

And then the thaw....

Drink wine. Improve your football performance

2010-01-14T08:06:00.002-06:00

I am still working on the second part of my Meat Manifesto, but in the meantime, I wanted to share this story. Ben is a huge British football fan; he read this story and emailed it me. Personally, I think it is awesome.

Roberto Mancini, Manchester City football team’s new Italian coach, is not only changing up his players physical routine, but he is also coaching them at the dinner table. The players’ new diets include Italian classics like pizza and pasta, and every meal will be served with a glass of wine. The coach believes that sipping alcohol at mealtimes (and refraining from guzzling beer and spirits in pubs and nightclubs) will not only make their meals more enjoyable, but will boost their game performance as well.

“I will calmly make corrections to what they eat before matches," City's manager told the Italian newspaper Corriere dello Sport. "You need more chicken, pizza, carbohydrates. As well as a glass of wine, which isn't being served.”

The article mentions that the new coach instructed his players to drizzle olive oil over their greens rather than douse a plate a fries (chips, as the English say) with ketchup.

The Italians sure know how to live.Viva Italia! Oh, and um, Manchester City football team!

On the Topic of Meat--Paleo Diet makes a stir

2010-01-11T16:59:00.007-06:00

Photo from the New York Times

Last night Ben and I attended his work's holiday party. We got to talking to Patrick, the boyfriend of a girl Ben works with, who happens to be a personal chef. As we scarfed down the best pizza in Chicago (in my opinion) and guzzled the house brewed beer, Patrick explained why he was sitting there sipping water and twiddling his thumbs--it was his first day on the Paleo Diet.

What? Yes. You heard correctly. The Paleo Diet. Basically, Patrick can eat anything that our caveman ancestors would come across in their hunting and foraging for food. He can eat meat (LOTS of meat), fruit, and vegetables--no grains (there was no agriculture or domesticated crops in caveman times), no dairy (cavemen did not have cows). The only part that did not make sense to me is that he can eat egg whites but not the yolks. Weird. I can see that Paleo Man may have come across bird eggs in his hunting and gathering expeditions, but I would assume that he found the yolk along with the white.

When I hear that people are on a new fangled diet, I am always curious as to the reasons. Patrick is skinny as a rail and a personal chef to boot. He knows good food--he makes it everyday. He said that he is doing this thirty day diet in order to GAIN weight. He told me that he eats "tons of crap" everyday. On a daily basis he eats huge plates of pasta and ice cream. Just because he cooks "good" food does not necessarily mean that it is healthy food. He believes (as do I) that these fasts and cleanses that everyone goes on every January are not very good for your body. He is trying to cleanse his body by eating only clean food. Interesting. This includes mainly meat, and he hopes that by eating large quantities of meat and nuts, he will actually be able to put on weight.

So I was pondering Patrick's new diet today, thinking about how this eating regiment fits in with my overall "Meat Manifesto," when I came across this article in the New York Times. Low and behold, there is a whole tribe of cavemen like Patrick in New York City. Patrick is not nearly as extreme as these guys--he is not training to outrun a mammoth or saber tooth tiger, and he is planning on cooking all of his meat, but it is the same diet.

As I said, I have anecdotes to share regarding my thoughts on meat, and this article is one of them. As mentioned before, one of the reasons we eat meat is because we are hard-wired to eat meat. Our ancestors ate meat--they survived on meat, but the world changes and all species evolve. Just because our ancestors lived on meat thousands of years ago, does that make it the ideal diet for humans today? The cavemen tribe in New York obviously think so. I think that such a diet is much better than eating all processed foods, but it also appears to me to be the opposite extreme.

Arguably, you could say that the earth's population benefited from the advancement of agriculture. However, the opposite side of that coin is that too much food is not necessarily always good for a species as it disrupts the balance of the food chain. This debate, whether we humans have disrupted the natural order of the earth, is one that I do not feel fit to take part in, and to tell you the truth, it is a debate that I see as quite pointless.

However, I DO see one of the greatest advancements in human evolution to be the fact that we have evolved to take great pleasure in our food. This part of evolution I think is something to embrace. Personally, I don't think that I would find much pleasure in eating raw ground beef everyday. To me, food is more than fuel. Food is pleasure, food is communication, food is sharing, food is love, food is...politics.

And I will leave that word..."politics"...to foreshadow an upcoming post.

Until then,

Peace and carrots (and a steak).

Meat Manifesto: An Introduction, THINK about meat

2010-01-10T16:44:00.004-06:00

Meat. It’s been on my mind lately.

This time of year Americans guzzle more meat than usual. Turkey for Thanksgiving. Prime rib for Christmas. Chilies. Beef Stews. Chicken Pot Pies. So many classic winter dishes revolve around meat, and for good reason. Back when the vast majority of humans engaged in agriculture and/or hunting and gathering for a living and/or survival, meat tide families through the winter when most vegetables, fruits, and grains succumbed to the winter season.

Vegetarianism was not a fad or a lifestyle hundreds of years ago as it is today. People ate meat to survive. People ate meat due to genetic hard wiring—we have canine teeth, after all. For hundreds of thousands of years, humans hunted meat. For thousands of years still, we raised animals to slaughter and, in turn, nourish our own bodies. We played our part in the food chain, as every living species does.

Times have changed. We have evolved and so has our relationship to the earth and the other species on it. Now we have the luxury to choose not to eat meat. And somewhere along the way, we developed the capacity to make moral judgments on whether or not we should eat meat.

Meat no longer means killing the family’s old dairy cow or chasing a chicken. Meat no longer means deciding which lamb has the best genes to breed for next years flock, and which one is the weakest—to put on the table for Easter dinner. Meat no longer means eating the tripe, feet, kidneys, brains, liver, and blood, to ensure that you reap every bit of profit out of your hard earned animal capital.

Meat now means going to the supermarket. Meat now means finding what cut is on sale, or what cut your recipe dictates. Meat could be an afterthought on your frozen pepperoni pizza or in your Ham and Cheese Hot Pocket. Bones are now worthless, thrown away or maybe given to the dog. We only want the best, leanest, “healthiest,” cuts. We are no longer carnivores. We are damn picky carnivores.

While the debates between today’s vegetarians and carnivores become heated and last long into the night, in the end, both sides have something to learn. The conversation is key. The thought is essential. That is just it…the THOUGHT. People no longer stop to THINK about their meat.

I am an unabashed omnivore. I love vegetables. But I LOVE meat too. I will not try to convert a vegetarian to a carnivore, nor will I espouse the moral greatness of a vegetarian utopia. People can lead a happy and healthy life on a vegetarian diet or an omnivorous diet (when I say carnivore, I really mean omnivore because I still to this day have not met any human who subsists solely on meat). And, both an omnivorous diet AND a vegetarian diet can be extremely detrimental for the earth, depending on what one chooses to eat, whether that be meat or vegetable.

So the purpose of my next few posts is to explain my view on meat. These next few posts are my personal, “Meat Manifesto,” if you will. As someone with a reputation for knowing a lot about food, one of the most common questions I get is, “Are you vegetarian?” And, “Do you think vegetarianism is better for health and the environment?” These are not simple questions…at all.

I will meander a bit in my explanations and thoughts on the matter. I have a few anecdotes to share. So stay tuned…

Quick Thought Wednesday: Homemade pasta is a life changing experience

2010-01-06T15:16:00.005-06:00

Getting married is pretty awesome, for many reasons. However, my friend Erin believes that reason “1A” to get married is to get a KitchenAid stand mixer. Well, my dear mother gave me a (bright red!) KitchenAid mixer as a bridal shower present, and Ben and I received the amazing pasta roller attachment as a wedding gift from a family friend.

Our first foray into homemade pasta was technically in 2009, but I vow to make much, much more fresh pasta in 2010. I had never made pasta from scratch before. I always thought that pasta could not get much better than it already was. I thought the secret to good pasta was how you prepared it and what sauce you put on it. Not. True. At. All.

The difference between fresh pasta made from scratch and the pasta you buy in a box is the difference between fresh baked artisan bread from your favorite bakery and Wonder Bread from the supermarket. Yes, I am serious. We made linguine and tossed the fresh pasta in sage butter with chopped bacon and a grating of Parmigiano Reggiano (only use the real stuff, it is so worth it). Incredible.

I recommend making your own pasta, ASAP. It truly is a life changing experience. I can't describe it. Just do it.

Oh, and you don't need a KitchenAid mixer (or to get married) to make fresh pasta. Hand crank pasta rollers work great; plus you build muscle while you make your dinner! It really is a win-win situation.

New Beginnings

2010-01-04T18:31:00.006-06:00

2010 is going to be a good year. I can feel it.

First off, welcome back. No... I am welcoming MYSELF back, to my formerly dead blog.

I promise that this year I will be better about paying more attention to my writing endeavors. I promise to get my thoughts down on “paper” and not let them swirl around in my head as hundreds of “possible articles” and “possible blog posts”.

So, dear reader, if you are still here and still randomly checking into this formerly defunct blog now and then, please check back more regularly. We’ll see where my mundane observations and thoughts take me this year.

First, however, I better briefly explain my absence and give a small update regarding my life (even if this is just to remind myself when I look back at these posts years later).

My last post on here was in June—eek! In March, Ben and I got engaged. We married on September 5, 2009—it was wonderful (Yes, I am Melissa Beresford now). So part of my absence was due to the craziness of wedding planning that somewhat took over my life for six months. However, I really cannot fully blame the wedding planning for my lack of writing. The wedding was a lot of work, but generally people make far too big of fuss and nonsense over planning a wedding. The process is not THAT hard, just a lot of busy work.

No, the other part of my absence was due to general life quandaries and existential questions in my own mind as to what I want to do with my life, which put a damper on the creative blogging juices. But I will spare you (and myself) the details.

So with that re-introduction, I end the first post of this decade. More to come…I promise

Organic Dairy Farms Feeling the Pinch: A boon for local food, and raw milk

2009-06-08T10:13:00.003-05:00

Here is a fascinating article that appeared in the New York Times about a week ago. I meant to blog about it sooner, but it slipped off my radar.

Organic dairy farmers in New England have been hit hard by the recession. No surprise here. When people need to cut back on spending, it seems obvious that an easy sacrifice would be to buy conventional milk instead of organic. Because people are indeed making this sacrifice, the demand for organic milk has plummeted since the recession hit. Large organic milk processors, like Horizon Organic and Organic Valley, are canceling their contracts with organic dairy farms resulting in New England dairy farmers with lots of organic milk and no processor to sell it to.

The article details some ironies in the whole "industrial organic" food system--for example, New England dairy farmers purchase organic feed from the Midwest. The feed is then trucked to New England and fed to the cows whose milk is then trucked back to central processing plants, packaged, and then trucked out again to various stores around the nation. However, I find the most interesting aspect of the article toward the end when it reports that farmers are now looking to sell raw and unpasteurized milk directly to the public. And that the Vermont House of Representatives passed a bill to allow farmers to sell an increased amount of raw milk to the public. Apparently, farmers are now looking at, "Tap[ing] into the the locavore movement, [and] marketing their milk as local food."

Interesting...

Food for thought, anyway...I suggest you check out the article.

Bacon and Cupcakes: Am I missing something?

2009-06-04T10:54:00.006-05:00

Certain food trends I just cannot wrap my brain around. I mean, I get it…initially (I am fully guilty of checking out the buzz around popular fads) . But similar to Ugg boots and mini skirts and giant sunglasses, I just wonder why these trends continue to persist. The two of the moment: bacon and cupcakes.

Bacon recipes continue to pop up everywhere. The magazine I was working for published an entire bacon issue. Quotes about bacon litter foodie websites, and it seems that at least once a month I hear about a chef somewhere who gets a tattoo as an ode to bacon. Don’t get me wrong here, I love bacon. The Vosges Haut Chocolate Bacon Bar tickled my fancy the first time that I saw it. “Ohhhh! Bacon in chocolate?!?!” I thought. But yesterday I saw yet another recipe for bacon brownies and I thought, “Ugh, bacon and chocolate…that is so done.” Not to mention, the bacon dental floss I saw a few weeks ago made my stomach churn. I normally floss to get my food out of my teeth.

Similarly, I am over cupcakes. I must admit cupcakes started out with negative points in my book due to my general blasé attitude toward all things Sex and the City. However, the cupcake craze is something that I also just don’t quite understand. The LA Times published an article this week reporting on the undying and unwavering fanfare for the miniature desserts. The article states, “There are obvious reasons for why people love cupcakes. There's sugar and butter. They remind people of childhood bake sales and birthday parties. No forks, no plates, maybe just a napkin. You don't have to share. No leftovers. At a bakery, everyone can pick their own flavor.”

Similar statements are made about bacon. Chefs and foodies waffle on about the perfect combination of fat and salt, crispiness and chewiness. This is all true. I agree. Bacon is good. But the bacon porn has been going on for years now. Even acid wash jeans did not last this long.

So then, what is it behind these foodie trends? When skinny jeans appeared in every shop window you did not hear about their functionality or the way that they accented someone’s perfectly formed calf muscles. No, people wore skinny jeans because everyone else wore them. Movie stars, models, musicians and socialites donned the new fashion trend and everyone followed. To me, it is the same with food. Carrie Bradshaw devoured a cupcake in an episode of Sex and the City and a million adoring fans went gaga for the mini desserts . But now the explanation for their popularity is the nostalgia that they conjure up as you lick the frosting off your fingers.

And a few years ago some Food Network Stars showed off their bacon tattoos and talked about how they love bacon more than life itself, and all of a sudden we have bacon jellybeans, bacon band-aids, bacon martinis, and bacon brownies. But we continue to hear that the reason why bacon is in everything is due to the fat-to-meat ratio???

So, I ask: why are food trends analyzed and explained while fashion trends are taken for what they are…trends?? I want a slice from a whole cake please, and I want my bacon with my eggs…no chocolate involved.

Food Trend Question: What is the deal with "Gluten free"?

2009-06-03T11:16:00.004-05:00

I love grains, all grains—wheat, oats, barley, quinoa, millet, buckwheat, the list goes on. I cook all of them on a regular basis. So as I was stocking up on my supply of barley at the new Lincoln Park Whole Foods a few days ago, a fellow shopper reminded me of my bafflement around this new “gluten free” trend.

“Oh! Barley!” she said. “Are you going gluten free too?”

“Um, no.” I replied. “I just really like barley.”

“Interesting. I have not tried barley yet. Have you tried millet? It is this ancient grain that is so delicious! I am trying to cut all the gluten out of my diet so I have been experimenting with alternative grains. I will have to check my book to see if barley has gluten in it.”

I was not surprised at all to hear about her new aversion to gluten. I asked her if she had an allergy, and she told me that she did not, but just read that wheat is, “not that good for you.” Once again, I was not surprised that she heard this. Nutritional information in this country is so damn confusing. What do you expect people to think when there are now entire “gluten free” sections springing up in grocery stores.

This past Sunday, the San Francisco Chronicle published some interesting insight to the gluten free trend in their weekly column written by Marion Nestle, professor in the department of Nutrition, Food Studies, and Public Health at New York University (and possibly the most well known food policy and nutrition expert at the moment). Nestle responded to a reader’s question about the seeming rise of gluten intolerance in high school students. Her response is illuminating to say the least.

The bottom line is that celiac disease, (the inability for the body to digest gluten) is serious. It is not a disease or an allergy, but rather an autoimmune disorder. The disorder is very real, but also quite rare. Nestle explains that at the moment, surveys suggest that 1 out of every 133 people in the general population is “gluten intolerant”. However, diagnosis of actual celiac disease is difficult and a lengthy process. Someone who is truly gluten intolerant will experience averse reactions to even the slightest trace of gluten—something as small as a dash of soy sauce, or even the random gluten based thickeners present in so much processed food (such as hydrolyzed proteins, seitan, natural flavorings, and beta-glucan).

So, the hyperawareness Americans have come to posses over gluten definitely benefits those who truly have celiac disease. Different natural foods companies, like Bob’s Redmill, now have “gluten free” brownie and cake mixes made with chickpea, rice, or tapioca flour. This is fantastic because even if someone with celiac disease tried to purchase these flours before and make their own brownie mix, there was no guarantee that the alternative flours were not processed on machines that also processed wheat, which would contaminate the flours with traces of gluten. The rise of consumer concern over gluten has forced food manufactures to come up with products that are certified “gluten free”. Life is far easier now than ever before for those who have a gluten autoimmune deficiency.

I must admit that another plus in this whole gluten-free mania is that people are experimenting with other grains. Until a few years ago, it was quite difficult to find buckwheat, millet, or quinoa in stores. Now they are all commonplace, even in places like Target or Safeway. These grains not only are tasty and healthy, but they also require people to learn how to cook them properly. And I am all for people educating themselves on how to cook different things. I sat and chatted to my fellow Whole Foods shopper for ten minutes while we exchanged different recipe ideas for whole grain salads.

However, with this hyperawareness of gluten intolerance, the attitude that “wheat is not that good for you,” scares me…simply because it is not true. It seems that thousands of people, like my fellow Whole Foods shopper, have misconstrued the information and awareness of celiac disease to the point that they think that wheat is bad for you. Wheat, in a minimally processed form, is extremely nutritious. Wheat formed the basis of the civilized human diet for hundreds of years. Where wheat becomes, “bad” or rather, not very nutritious, is when it is utlra-processed—like in Twinkie form, or Waffle Crunch cereal form.

So my question: why the trend of “avoiding gluten”? I wonder the reasons why people who are perfectly healthy and have perfect capability to digest gluten decided to, “go gluten free.” Is it because they do truly believe that wheat or gluten is “bad” for you? Do people believe that they will loose weight this way? Like I said, I am all for different grains, but to choose a life without fresh baked bread…no thank you.

Strawberry Fields Forever

2009-04-10T17:34:00.007-05:00

To me, strawberries smell of freedom.

I am sure you know that olfactory response, when a certain smell instantly brings you back to a specific moment in your life. Bath and Body Works’ Cucumber-Melon lotion will always remind me of seventh grade basketball trips. The smell of strawberries will always remind me of my sixteenth birthday.

On April 18th 1999, I turned sixteen. I drove alone for the first time—my brand new temporary paper drivers’ license tucked safely in my wallet. I drove and drove, in my parents’ white GMC Yukon, with all the windows down. I drove past fields and fields of strawberries, ripe and ready to be picked—their scent wafted into the car with the warmth of the spring air. I was sixteen and I could drive. I was free.

While the thrill of driving has worn off, the thrill of strawberry season has not.

Growing up on California’s central coast, strawberries always officially marked spring for me. We never bought strawberries from the grocery store—only ever straight from the fields on the side of the road. I remember riding in the front seat next to my mom with a huge flat of strawberries on my lap. The little Japanese ladies who ran the stand would tape a sheet of newspaper over the top of the box, and I would sit pulling out the berries that peeked out the side. I popped the whole things in my mouth, biting off their green tops, and then tossing them out the window. We would get home and for lunch I would just have a plate of strawberries. I think that for the entire month of April, I had a red tinge all around my mouth.

Strawberries are the fruit from the plants of the genus Fragaria. The Latin name ‘fraga’ refers to the fruits’ fragrance, and the English name ‘strawberry’ refers to the plants’ straying branches and leaves—a characteristic that it shares with many other members of the rose family.

Wild strawberries are indigenous to both the old and the new world. The small, wild variety that is native to Europe and Asia is known as an Alpine variety (Fragaria vesca), while the Virginia strawberry (Fragaria virginiana) is native to North America. The Pine or Beach strawberry (Fragaria chiloenis) is native to South America.

Almost all modern commercial strawberry varieties today are hybrids of the Virginia strawberry and the Pine (or Beach) strawberry. Both varieties were imported to France in the 1600’s where they cross-pollinated in Charles V’s gardens at the Louvre (he supposedly had over 5,000 strawberry plants in his gardens). This crossbreeding resulted in plants with larger, juicer, and more flavorful berries. Ever since this natural “accident,” cultivators derive most all strawberry varieties from these two species.

Farmers generally do not cultivate wild strawberry varieties for commercial purposes because these plants produce small fruits and low yields. However, if you have ever had the fortune of tasting a wild strawberry, you know that such an experience is like tasting a piece of heaven—an intense explosion of sweet, pure strawberry flavor on your tongue, absolutely nothing like the watery, spongy, pathetic excuses for strawberries that you find in your supermarket.

Strawberries can grow anywhere in the United States, and do indeed grow in all fifty states. However, eighty percent of commercial strawberries grow in California. Florida is the second largest producer, and Oregon follows as a distant third. Due to the modern marvels and advancements in plant breeding, transportation, and refrigeration, you can find strawberries from one of these commercial growing regions year round.

I remember the first time I saw strawberries in that clear plastic box, sitting in a supermarket refrigerator in the middle of February. What struck me first was that I could not smell them. No, not even if I picked up the box and shoved my nose into the little plastic vent slots. Nothing. They had no smell. I didn’t understand—strawberries are supposed to let off a fragrance that reminds you of the days getting longer and the sun shining brighter. Strawberries are supposed to ooze with sweet red juice that dribbles down your chin as you bite into their plump bodies. These impostors were red alright, but they were dry and scentless. These strawberries had no soul.

You see, as long-distance transport and refrigeration became more common, and as people began to buy their food from supermarkets as opposed to farmers or green-grocers, we began to loose touch with the seasons. Customers wanted those juicy passionate berries to go with their champagne on Valentines Day. And horticultural researchers saw dollar signs in the prospect.

Berry breeders at California’s universities worked for years, trying to figure out how to make these marvelous spring and summer gems available all year long. They soon found a way. They found many ways. Researchers developed varieties of strawberries that ship well and yield high quantities of fruit—essentially these researchers figured out how to grow money…on strawberry plants. But what we gain in year round access, we loose in flavor.

All strawberries are fragile and extremely perishable when perfectly ripe. This means that strawberry cultivators pick the berries before they reach full maturity, pack them, ship them, and then spray them with gas to further the ripening process once they have reached their destination. Not to mention, most industrial farms spray non-organic strawberries with extremely noxious agricultural chemicals—more than any other commercial crop, mainly due to their extremely fragile nature. And because of the backbreaking labor required to harvest the berries, California agricultural workers call strawberries, la fruta del diablo, “the fruit of the devil.”

Today strawberries seem to have lost their magic. Because you can now find them in any place, at any point of they year, most people take them for granted. They are just another fruit. The marvel of such a wonderful food resides not only in its taste or juiciness, but in the mere fact that they only naturally occur once a year—when the sun shines brighter and longer and the ground thaws. Going from a diet of preserved food, root vegetables, and bitter greens to taking a bite of your first spring strawberry is magical. I can’t help but sit in awe of nature as the red juice dribbles down my chin.

But more than anything, it’s the smell. Whenever I am lucky enough to get home and visit my family in the springtime, I take a drive. I drive past the strawberry fields, roll my windows down, and let the sweet scent fill my nostrils. I am sixteen again…and I am free.

Good to eat? Bad to eat? How do we tell?

2009-04-02T22:38:00.009-05:00

As omnivores, humans eat anything from rancid mammary gland excretions, to fungi, to rocks (cheese, mushroom, and salt, if you prefer). Yes, we are like cockroaches, rats, and pigs—we eat both plant and animal; we eat rotten food and fresh food; we eat cooked food and raw food. This works out to be rather advantageous as we can draw nutrition from a vast array of sources.

However, we don’t just eat anything. We lack the digestive ability to eat blades of grass, tree leaves, and wood. And we know that it is not a safe bet to eat our own excrement (hence the gag reflex). Yes, we deem certain things as “inedible” for biological reasons. And I state the obvious when I say that we deem certain foods inedible for cultural reasons. What some cultures see as perfectly good to eat, other cultures find disgusting. Humans are quite a diverse crowd.

The fact that different cultures eat different foods is interesting, but like I said, this fact is obvious. Rather, what’s intriguing is how people’s perceptions of food change. How do we go from thinking that something is gross to thinking that it is delicious?

This scenario has likely happened to all of us. For example, when I was a child, the thought of eating anything that previously lived in water absolutely repulsed me. Sure, I remember not liking the taste of fish. But more vividly, I remember being disgusted at the thought of eating something wriggly and slimy. Just the smell of fish made me gag. But at some point this changed. I remember eating and enjoying halibut for the first time when I was eighteen. I remember that I was out to dinner at a seafood restaurant, and I consciously decided that I needed to like fish—fish was a perfectly fine food. I took a bite, and I enjoyed it. Next I ventured onto mahi mahi, then lobster, then swordfish, then tuna. Next thing I knew, I was eating and enjoying sushi.

What changed? Did I, “develop my palate”? I don’t think so. My disgust of seafood was never just about taste. Like I said, the thought of eating something wet and slimy repulsed me. In my head, fish was not good to eat. But something fundamentally changed in my head. I decided that fish was perfectly fine food. When I decided this, I ate it, and I enjoyed it.

Certainly, where you are born and raised determines many of your food habits and preferences. But what determined the dominant food ways of your society in the first place? Is there a practical reason as to why America is a meat (chicken, cow, or pig) and potatoes based society, where as Mexico is a beans and rice based society? These are obviously massive generalizations, but they are based on some semblance of truth. Why do people in China eat dog with no problem while Americans find dog meat abominable? Are these societal dietary preferences arbitrary?

There are certainly environmental factors at play. Japan’s staple grain is rice because rice grows in Japan. Mexico’s staple grain is corn because corn is native to North America. And clearly we understand why the Mediterranean diet relies on fish and olive oil, where as the Northern European diet consists of mainstays like cured meat and butter. Yes, environmental factors play a major role in determining our food ways, but can they still explain our diets in this day and age?

While environmental reasons perfectly explain the diet of our ancestors, what can we say about our changing dietary preferences today? We can no longer say that Americans don’t drink coffee or eat bananas because they don’t grow here. Nope. That reason does not work anymore. Yes, we eat foods that we never used to before thanks to the modern marvels of transportation and refrigeration. However, I want to dig deeper. How do we go from thinking that a food was disgusting, to thinking that it is delicious? For example, why has eating raw fish (sushi) caught on and spread like wildfire in the United States, while eating dog stew is still completely taboo? At what point does a dish like sushi move from the category of “extreme” food to every-day food? I am sure that the American citizens of the 19th century would have looked people eating sushi the same way that we look at Anthony Bourdain eating raw seal flesh.

As I mentioned earlier, at some point in our lives, most of us make a conscious decision that food we previously thought was bad to eat, is indeed good to eat. And I find it fascinating that this happens at a societal level as well. Just last week, the New York Times ran an article entitled, “How I learned to love goat meat.” Goat meat is appearing on menus around the nation, and not just in the hole-in-the-wall ethnic restaurants. No, the last time we ate at Fronterra Grill in Chicago, Ben ordered the goat enchiladas. And Bill Niman, the California ranching pioneer, left behind his namesake cattle ranching cooperative due to corporate disagreements, and is now forging a new career in raising goats for their meat.

Just two years ago, goat meat was considered exotic and extreme. Today, it is slowly becoming mainstream. First we see "exotic" foods in the random ethnic restaurants. Then they move to the mainstream restaurants, and are touted by big name chefs as the “next hot ingredient.” Next we begin to see them in the specialty food shop, and finally these previously exotic foods are in the average American grocery store. Just wait, in two years time, you will see goat meat at your grocery story meat counter. The same trickle effect happened to balsamic vinegar, blue cheese, and sushi—and of course many many other types of food. What was once exotic and seemingly inedible, is now common food—good to eat.

So what happens? We cannot rely on environmental reasons to explain our diet anymore. And with information at our fingertips, knowledge of the foods of other cultures is simply old news. Clearly, there is some sort of psychological shift that occurs when we decided to eat and enjoy a new food, so how does this happen for a whole society? Does media sway this decision? Why sushi and goat, but not dog? I am still working on answering these question myself…any thoughts??

Hooray! A White House Vegetable Garden!

2009-03-20T00:00:00.000-05:00

Today the digging starts. The Obamas are putting in a White House Vegetable garden.

About a month ago I wrote a couple of posts (which you can read here and here) arguing for the merits of a first veggie garden, modeled after Eleanor Roosevelt's victory garden. Today the New York Times reported that indeed it is going to happen. A 1,110 square food plot of the White House lawn will be turned into a garden, visible to the public passing by on E Street. My hat goes off to Michelle Obama, and to all those involved in planning and implementing the garden. I look forward to seeing the fruits (and vegetables) of all the labor.

A "fresh" new post: What if our produce could talk...

2009-03-19T12:20:00.004-05:00

If the fruit and vegetables at your average American grocery store could talk, what would they say?

This “fresh” food could surely tell you a few travel stories because it has probably traveled more than the average American citizen. In fact, because you can purchase almost every type of fruit or vegetable at any time of the year, I would wager that most people do not know seasonal produce cycles, nor do they know where in the world their mid-winter grapes come from.

As Americans die of “lifestyle” diseases rather than viruses or bacterial infections, more and more studies focus on how to make our lifestyle “healthier”. Newspapers and TV programs now beat us over the head, telling us that in order to be healthy, we need to consume “fresh” fruit and vegetables. In 1988 fresh vegetable consumption finally equaled processed vegetable consumption, and while in 1975 the average American supermarket produce department sold 65 items, in 1988 the same produce department sold 210 items. Clearly, we all know that we should be eating more fruits and veggies, and we have come to learn that the little pieces of carrot in canned chicken noodle soup do not count toward our daily requirement of “fresh” vegetables.

So what do we mean by “fresh” fruit and vegetables. How do you define the term, “fresh.” In my mind, fresh should indicate both time and place—so if we say that our shirt is “fresh out of the laundry,” we mean that it was recently washed. Or a batch of, “freshly baked cookies,” means that they just came out of the oven. Even the term, “freshman,” indicates a student in their first year of high school. “Fresh” indicates that something comes from a time not too long ago, and a place not too far away.

However, over the past twenty years, not only has our consumption of “fresh” fruits and vegetables shifted, but so has the social usage of the word, “fresh”.

Something to ponder: Walter Goldfrank, a professor of sociology and Latin American Studies at UC Santa Cruz, observed that rather than an indication of time and place, “fresh,” has come to mean, “not ostensibly processed,” or made into something different. The fact that produce is picked weeks, or even months, in advance, then cooled, stored, and shipped with the aid of spoilage-retardant chemicals, and then handled by multiple human hands at multiple job sites in several different countries does not deter us from using the term, “fresh.” Freshness than, indicates inherent pristine appearance, rather than signifying the space/time proximity to the consumer.

So how “fresh” is our produce? How many countries has it been to? How many people has it met?—all before it goes into our salad. Like I said, if our “fresh” produce could talk, I bet it could tell some really interesting travel stories.

The Joy of Baking

2009-03-16T22:34:00.006-05:00

Baking makes me feel productive.

On a rainy Saturday afternoon, after far too many hours flitted away on the internet, I wander into my kitchen and pull two sticks of butter and a few eggs out of the fridge. I walk over to the stereo, thumb through the records, and settle on a Van Morrison LP (I have been on a big-time Van Morrison kick lately). While the butter and eggs come to room temperature, I meander about the kitchen, grooving to the music while pulling out the flour, the sugar, and the vanilla extract, and then zesting a couple of lemons. There is nothing in the world like baking while rocking out to good music.

I pull the cake pan out of the cupboard, pat a slice of butter onto some wax paper and rub down the pan. Next the oven goes on to pre-heat. And then I start to sing along to the music.

One by one, the ingredients go into the bowl—butter beaten with the sugar; eggs cracked in one-by-one; drops of vanilla added; a squirt of lemon juice; a sprinkle of lemon zest; and slowly, slowly, the flour sifted in. I stir, and I stick my finger in the batter to taste. Mmmmm. I think that I need to taste it again. Yep. One more taste is needed. Sweet. I pour the batter into the pan, and slide it into the oven. The timer goes on. “Into the Mystic,” comes on, and I start to clean up the mixing bowls and spoons—enjoying every minute of it.

Three quarters of an hour later, my house smells like sweet lemons with a hint of vanilla. I pull the cake out of the oven, and let it cool.

I made something.

I started with flour, butter, sugar, and eggs. Now it is a sweet indulgence to have with a cup of tea. My Saturday feels a little more productive, and a little more decadent. My friend coming over to visit will now feel a little more special, because I baked a cake for her. I made it. And we all know that the best gifts are homemade.

Baking a cake for the people I love is the best way that I can say ‘thank you’—thank you for love, support, and friendship—please have a sweet piece of indulgence that I made for you. And that is just what I am going to do in September at our wedding. There is no better way for Ben and I to thank the people who have loved and supported us, separately and as a couple, than to serve them a piece of cake, that I made with my own two hands—starting with just butter, eggs, flour, and sugar, and crafting it into a delicious work of art.

So yes, sorry for my abrupt (and unannounced) departure from my posts, but I was caught in a whirlwind of wedding planning, because (just in case it was not obvious already) Ben and I decided to get married. We are quite thrilled, and while deciding upon a place, a date, a photographer, and all that jazz is quite hectic, there has been one given from the start—I am baking the cake.

Are you a Lover or a Hater?

2009-02-26T22:15:00.004-06:00

Too tired to put up much of a cerebral post tonight.

However, I've been pondering breakfast over the past few days. Why do some people prefer sweet and others savory?

Mark Bittman's piece in the NY Times last week gave some unusual breakfast ideas and challenged Americans to try eating a savory breakfast for a change. Why do most Americans think of breakfast as a sweet meal? We eat danishes, donuts, cinnamon rolls, sugar cereal, pancakes, and waffles. Even peanut butter is sweet tasting.

If I stray from oatmeal for my morning meal, I go for toast and Marmite--you don't get much more savory than that. In the words of Nigel Slater, Marmite is, "Savoury tar for your toast. As shiny as a lovingly polished army boot, saltier than a mouthful of sea water, stickier than treacle, and somehow the work of the devil."

You either love it or hate it. I love it. Most likely, if you did not grow up on it as a child, you will hate it.

How does the taste for savory or sweet breakfast develop? Why so much sweetness in the American morning meal? And what about you? Marmite: are you a lover or a hater?

The Economy Sucks, So We Dine

2009-02-23T12:22:00.008-06:00

I no longer dare to open the newspaper in the morning.

I put on the teakettle, fire up the stove, and let my oatmeal bubble away happily while I peel and eat an orange. Five to seven minutes later I give the oats a stir, pour the steamy goodness into my bowl, and sit down at the kitchen table with my tea and porridge, ready to open the paper.

But, for the past week I just can’t do it. I can’t open the paper. I don’t want to read bad news. I don’t want to know about more people who don’t have jobs. I care. I really do. My heart bleeds for them. But it gets me down. I know the economy is bad, and I have hope that it will get better, soon enough.

No, I push the Chicago Tribune to the side, and I reach for Bon Appetite, or Gourmet, or Gastronimica, or even go and pull one of my cookbooks off the shelf—one that I have not looked at in a long time. I knew there was a recipe in there that I have been meaning to try.

Restaurants are shutting down left and right. When a recession hits, the first place that people start pinching pennies is in their dining-out-budget. That makes sense. Yes, people cut back on restaurants, they cut back on movies, they cut back on clothing, on cars, on TV’s, and on, and on. People give up small luxuries. But people still have to eat.

All of a sudden, people lug out their slow cookers, dust off their old recipe books, and discover (or re-discover) the wonders of slow cooked rump steak. We begin to roast the whole chicken, instead of buying boneless-skinless breasts, and we remember how wondrous root vegetables can taste—all for so cheap! Yes, Americans are learning to cook again, because although money may be tight, food is still essential.

But being human and all, eating is more than just cooking your own food. Eating is more than ingesting calories for calories sake. We eat for so many other reasons besides nutrition—for flavor, for the experience of new place and culture, for comfort, or for celebration. But most of all, we eat to be social. Isn’t that what going out to a restaurant is all about? We go with friends, with family, with lovers, with wives, with husbands, with business associates, with prospective PhD students. Yes, some people dine out alone, but nine times out of ten, you dine out with someone else.

Even in these economic times, people cannot stop being the social animals we are. Forgive my corniness, but our social ties are priceless. And eating together is an intimate act. It builds and maintains relationships, and that is something that we cannot and will not stop. The economy will not put us in holes, shoveling re-fried beans into our mouths merely to survive. No, even in the meekest of times, people eat together, and that is one of the facts of life that makes us human.

So I rather than looking at the paper, I planned a dinner party. Hummus, olives, and nuts to start. Pot roast, mashed celery root, and braised leeks to feature. Chocolate and frozen grapes for the finale. It was wonderful. We ate, we drank, we pulled out instruments, and we played and we sang. We clutched our bellies feeling like we feasted as kings. But more than than, we feasted together. And we toasted,

“The economy sucks! So we dine…”

**All these photos (except the last one taken by yours truly) were taken by my friend Charlie at our dinner party--that is him playing the guitar.

"Microbiopolitics": Why does raw milk have such a bad rap?

2009-02-20T11:26:00.007-06:00

When Ben and I first started dating he made a batch of chocolate white chocolate chunk cookies—black and whites he called them. I was having a terrible day at the library, trying to write another section of my master’s thesis. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I had a text message from Ben.

“I am being domestic and baking cookies. Black and whites. Want to be my guinea pig?”

Sweet! You pretty much can’t find a better excuse to shut down your laptop, pack up your books, and leave the deafening silence of the library—a boy and COOKIES!

Half an hour later I was walking down his hallway. The smell of baking cookies was wafting out of his apartment. He was pulling the first batch out of the oven as I walked in the door.

“Hi! How goes the thesis?”

“Ugh,” I grunted.

“Wanna cookie?”

“Um, yes!”

Delicious. This boy was definitely racking up points on the keep-o-meter.

“So, how much cookie dough did you eat?” I asked, knowing that when I make cookies, I only ever get half the yield because inevitably I eat half the batch in dough form.

“Um, none of it. It has raw eggs. I don’t want to get Salmonella.”

What?! Salmonella is something that I am fully willing to risk for the sheer delight of cookie dough. But that is not the point of my post today.

You see, Ben’s cautionary tactics in avoiding raw eggs are quite common. He was merely following the rules of food safety that we all learned at some point in elementary school. Raw eggs are dangerous. They make you sick. That is what we were brought up to believe.

Now, I am not saying that raw eggs don’t pass on salmonella, because they can. But it is not the egg’s fault. It’s our fault. Well, rather it is the fault of dirty, crowded, and substandard egg farms and packing plants. It is the same with raw milk. Raw milk does not make you sick itself. Careless processing and handling causes it to be contaminated, and only then does it make you sick. But as a society, we are terrified of microbes in dairy, and we think that these bad microbes are inherent in dairy products. I am not sure why dairy has such a bad rap, because clearly, raw dairy is not the only thing that can make us sick.

Peanuts can kill us too. Apparently.

I hate to admit that I am not surprised. It’s tragic that individuals had to die in order for other people to wake up and take a look at some of the gross problems with our industrial food system. I’ve written before on disease and contamination in industrial processed food, and I mentioned that the need to seriously re-vamp the way our food system works is not only an issue of public health, but it is also one of national security (as argued by Michael Pollan).

However, I am not going to talk about the peanut recall today, nor about food and national security. Rather I want to go back to cheese and point out a certain irony: the FDA does not allow the sale of un-aged raw milk cheese in the United States because it is a potential bio hazard. But in the past year, how many people in our country have died from tainted spinach, tomatoes, and now peanut butter?

Yes, of course raw milk cheese can carry deadly pathogens, but so can peanut butter, clearly. So why outlaw raw cheese and not peanut butter?

Heather Paxson, a brilliant anthropologist at MIT, calls this type of query an issue of “microbiopolitics”—a term she coined to “call attention to the fact that dissent over how to live with microorganisms reflects disagreement about how humans ought to live with one another.” In other words, how the politics of dealing with microbial health standards reflects the politics of our society in general.

This post, however, is about cheese, not peanut butter. Even if we just stay in the realm of dairy there are plenty of microbiopolitical issues to discuss. First off, pasteurization.

The claim: Pasteurization stops and kills the undesired spread of milk-borne pathogens, pathogens that used to kill thousands of people. Now, people don’t get sick from milk or dairy products because of the modern marvel of pasteurization.

Counterclaim: Pasteurization destroys nutritional value and makes milk taste bad.

The truth: Both of these claims have some truth and some, um, questionable assumptions.

First of all, pasteurization does not necessarily destroy nutritional value. Milk still contains a great deal protein, and pasteurization does nothing to change that. However, there are also many types of bacteria in milk that may actually be good for you, and when you pasteurize, you kill all the bacteria and microorganisms, good and bad. This is means that you do not get the health benefits of what good bacteria may be there. I have even heard that some people who are generally lactose intolerant can drink raw milk. Scientists think that the beneficial bacteria aids in the breaking down of lactose. That is only speculative, but still interesting. Nonetheless, pasteurization does not make milk non-nutritive, but it does kill off some possibly potential health benefits.

Second, the flavor factor may not have to do with pasteurization, per say. Rather, the flavor of the milk depends first and foremost on the quality of the milk. That being said, all types of pasteurization are not created equal. In my previous post on the politics of pasteurization I explained the difference between “good” pasteurization and “bad” pasteurization. Basically, “good” pasteurization is trickier and more time consuming, but results in killing any unwanted germs while not “cooking” the milk. “Bad” pasteurization basically blast heats the milk super fast, and then cools it down supper fast, so that you kill all the little nasties, but basically cook the milk, which completely alters the flavor.

Obviously, “bad” or “flash” pasteurization is much easier and more cost effective, so the majority of milk that you will find in the super market is flash pasteurized. However, if you are lucky enough to buy milk at a farmers’ market, or at a grocery story that carries milk from smaller dairy farms, you will find that you milk tastes sweet, as it should. It has an entirely different flavor profile, and while this may have to do with the fact that it is carefully pasteurized as opposed to flash pasteurized, it more likely has to with the fact that the milk comes from happy cows. Seriously.

You see, good milk comes from happy cows. Just as good wine is a snapshot of the weather and soil that the grapes grew in, and just as honey is a freeze-frame of the flowers that the bees feasted upon that season, milk should be a reflection of the different grasses and clovers and flowers that they cow happily munched upon. So it makes sense that the milk from a cow who is out at pasture, dining on sweet clover and green grass, will taste infinitely better than milk from a cow that is squashed in massive corals, knee-deep in its own feces, injected with artificial hormones and anti-biotics, and fed schlep made from corn, soy, and reconstituted waste. The logic is common sense if you stop to think about it. I promise that I am not being overly romantic about happy cows. Not only are happy cows happy (which is very nice), but they also produce tastier and healthier milk.

And how does this translate to cheese? Well, that is quite obvious. Good cheese comes from good milk. So this whole fuss over raw-milk cheese is a little more complicated than just saying that un-pasteurized cheese tastes better. Because, you see, yes, the pasteurization process does affect the flavor of the cheese, but what will more profoundly affect the yumminess of the cheese is the quality of the milk. Higher quality milk, meaning milk from small dairy farms with happy, pasture fed cattle, is either less likely to be pasteurized, or if it is pasteurized, it is done in the careful, “good” way.

So onto the “microbiopolitics” of the matter.

Pasteurization does stop a lot of disease, but it is merely a band-aide for a wound that could be prevented in the first place if we had smaller and cleaner dairy farms that paid more attention to the quality of the milk over the quantity.

This is what is so interesting to me. Even if you pasteurized milk, it can still be contaminated after the pasteurization process, like what happened with the peanut butter. Obviously, we do not pasteurize peanut butter because, well, peanut butter comes from peanuts, and not from a living animal. But still, due to dirty, sub-par processing facilities, the peanuts in that plant in Georgia were contaminated with Salmonella.

The problem with microbes in our dairy is not a problem with the microbes. It is a problem with the care we take in distributing our food. We run into these contamination problems not because of the foods we eat, but because we now heavily rely upon huge, massive, industrial plants that are more concerned with the bottom line—quantity instead of quality. This does not only potentially harm the consumer, but it is obviously harmful to the animals involved as well.

Clearly, pasteurization also is not a magic cure, because why then is un-pasteurized cheese perfectly legal in Europe? In fact, many of the cheese shops that Ben and I visited on this past trip to England did not sell cheese made with pasteurized milk. I must have looked a bit of an idiot as I stood there asking the cheese monger, “And this cheese? Is this made with un-pasteurized milk? And this one? What about this one?”

“They are all made with un-pasteurized milk, dear,” replied the lady at the Chester Cheese Shop.

Oh. I see. This is not due to any sort of snobbery on the part of the Cheese Shop. No, this is simply because in this small cheese store, the owner only carries cheese made on small farms around the UK, and all of these farms simply don’t pasteurize their milk. And this cheese…this cheese was some of the best cheese I have ever tasted. Was it good because the milk was raw? I don’t know. Maybe. But I think that more likely it was because the milk was just good quality milk from happy cows.

Eating amazing cheese in England made me start to ponder the politics of pasteurization. As I thought more and more about it, I began to see that the politics of pasteurization are wrapped up in so many other political and cultural elements of US society. Once again, I find myself asking somewhat unanswerable questions…all issues of “microbiopolitics.”

If raw milk cheese is perfectly legal under EU regulation, why are we so terrified of it in the United States? And why did dairy get such a bad rap over here? Why are we terrified to eat raw milk cheese, or drink un-pasteurized milk, but we gobble down raw fish in sushi restaurants all over? Why do we assume that products like peanut butter are free of microbes and germs? And if you want to go even deeper, how does our fear of germs and microbes in our food reflect the politics and mindset of our society? Heavy sh*t man…

If you are curious about more issues related to microbiopolitics, I sincerely recommend that you read Heather Paxson’s work. It is brilliant. Her ethnographic research is absolutely fascinating, as are the conclusions she draws from it.

I could continue to talk about cheese for ages, and there are so many other interesting intricacies and cultural elements to delve into. But I don’t want to bore anyone with too much cheese. As my brother found out on his last trip to England, too much cheese can be a bad thing…for your digestive system at least.

P.S. I re-did the "About Me" section of my blog. You can check it out via the like on the side bar. Now you probably know more about me than you ever wanted to know.

Back to an old question: What is American Cuisine?

2009-02-15T12:37:00.006-06:00

Ah, hello! While I take a momentary break from cheese, I want to welcome everyone just stumbling upon my blog through Daniel’s post on Neuroanthropology. I am flabbergasted and extremely flattered to receive a mention on such a cool site. AND, I am still waiting to hear what other people would consider to be American cuisine.

It is funny. I wrote that post back in August, and I remember my mind spinning as I struggled with a way to define American cuisine. Like I said, I can easily tell you about American food, but as for the big picture and culture around American food (how I would define a “cuisine”)…can you actually sum it up? I don't think that you can. Nonetheless, I believe that it is still important to ponder such unanswerable questions.

For that matter, I think that someone will always find flaws in any type of generalization, and that is basically what a “national cuisine” is—a generalized way of describing how the people in a certain nation state eat. That being said, it is still easier to generalize certain cultures over others, and I think that it is particularly hard to generalize the food culture and ideology of the United States as whole.

However, I am still going to take a stab at it. I am going to pose a possible answer to my own question after having been abroad for a month and gaining a little outside perspective.

As I have been saying in my previous posts on English grocery shopping experiences and English cheese, the main difference I notice between the food systems of the UK and the US is one of scale. This is obvious. The US is a HUGE country, geographically and demographically. Outside of the US I have spent the most time in the UK and South Africa. All of these countries (I am including Scotland and Ireland here) have cuisines that are based on smaller scale food systems. This is perhaps why I notice much more fresh produce in the cuisines of the UK and South Africa, and much less processed food. This is not to say that processed, packaged food does not exist in these countries, because it does. However, processed food in the United States is so pervasive that I think I could generalize and say that as a nation, our national cuisine is one of industrial food.

Am I happy to say this? No. Not at all. In general, I do not eat processed food. Yes, I eat the occasional packet of M&M’s, and there are some nights that I just open a can of soup for dinner. However, like I said, if we are talking, “national cuisine” we are making generalizations. If I were to generalize the dominant eating practice and culture in the US, I would say that it has to be large portions of cheap, fast, processed food. But there is still more to my argument.

Cuisine is also something of perception—how we perceive other people’s eating habits. Like I said in my previous post, we often speak of “Italian cuisine,” which we Americans perceive as pasta and pizza. When we think of Japan, we think of sushi. France, we would say escargot and crepes. Even when we think of Canada, we think of maple syrup. Right, so when labeling a “national cuisines,” we pretty much name dishes. However, ask a non-American, “What do Americans eat?” They most likely will not name dishes—-they will name brands. Coke, McDonald's and Oreo cookies are the most likely examples. The following picture is evidence.

I took this picture in the food hall of Fortnum and Mason —a very posh department store in London. Anyway, in the food hall, they have a “foreign food” section with imports from various countries. There are spices and curry powders from India, dried seaweed from Japan, Serrano ham from Spain, cheese from France, and maple syrup from Canada. And then…from the US….Aunt Jemima syrup and pancake mix, Karo syrup, Betty Crocker cake mix, Skippy peanut butter, and Duncan Hines frosting…nice. (Also not pictured are the Oreo cookies that were on another shelf.)

There are hundreds of other studies showing the flow of “American” food into other nations—primarily meaning McDonald's, Burger King, Coca Cola, and so on. James Watson at Harvard and Yunxiang Yan at UCLA have both done ethnographies of McDonald’s in China, and both found that many Chinese families take their children to McDonald’s because they want them to be more “Americanized”. In America, if we are feeling like branching out and eating the “cuisine” of another country, we want to go to the most “authentic” little Italian restaurant we can find, not eat Nutella. Interesting...

So then, my stab at generalizing America’s “national cuisine” is to say that it is one of industrial, processed food. There are obvious flaws in this argument because it is a massive generalization. Fresh and “small scale” food exists here, obviously. I can certainly say that as an American, I don’t eat McDonald's or much processed food at all. However, I am sure that you can find some Canadians who hate maple syrup and Italians who don’t eat much pasta. You always run into problems when you generalize.

So then, I turn back to Sydney Mintz, and I reflect on his question in Tasting Food, Tasting Freedom, “Why is having a cuisine important?...Could it be good not to have a cuisine?” While I think that it is an important exercise to critically examine the way we eat, maybe there is no point in stamping the US with a “national cuisine”. Maybe it is a good thing that this is an unanswerable question. Because in the end, all the best questions don’t really have answers.

Cheese Epiphanies: Raw milk and the politics of pasteurization

2009-02-11T20:58:00.004-06:00

I had my first cheese epiphany in England. I was six.

As a kid, I was not just a picky eater (weren’t we all?), I was an annoyingly picky eater. I didn’t like chocolate flavored things, but I liked chocolate. I wouldn’t eat anything that formerly lived in water. I didn’t like hamburgers or hot dogs (I always went for the chicken strips). I didn’t like chunks in my yogurt or ice cream. And I only ate yellow cheese.

My mother did not buy “American cheese” (the processed stuff). In all regards, she raised me eating extremely healthy food in comparison to many of my peers. I was the kid with the organic plantain chips in my lunch instead of Doritos, and I only ever had the all-natural fruit leathers in lieu of fruit-roll-ups. However, no matter how hard she tried, the only cheese I would eat was yellow cheddar cheese. Yes, she did buy the organic Wisconsin mild cheddar from the food co-op, but it was still yellow cheddar cheese, and it was the only cheese I would eat. Then I went to England.

I remember being at a cheese shop with my mom and my aunt, buying the cheese for the week.

“What type of cheese to you want, Melissa,” said my aunt.

“Yellow cheddar cheese, please.” (I was a polite kid).

“Well, they only have white cheddar cheese today,” my aunt replied.

I think that I pulled a face, and my mother told me that I had to try it. I reluctantly put a piece of the English white cheddar in my mouth, and to this day, I distinctly remember a completely new flavor sensation on my tongue. It was sharp and salty, but creamy and smooth at the same time. It was…interesting. All I knew was that I liked it. I was sold on this white cheddar stuff. In the following months, even after returning to the US, I would begin my explorations into cheese, becoming an avid lover of Munster, Swiss, Brie, and feta. Oh how I loved feta (well, still love feta). I could not believe that I wasted so much time eating only yellow cheddar. (It did take me until I was eighteen to enjoy any sort of blue cheese, or cheese with mold in it--a shame really. Now my attitude is the moldier the better. I love the way a blue Cabrales curls your tongue).

While I grew out of my picky eating habits at quite a early age, relative to most children, my younger brother remained un-adventurous in the food realm for quite some time. It’s funny because a few years back he had a similar cheese epiphany. I am not sure if he quite knew it, but I remember watching his cheese epiphany, and it was also in England. My family was back in England (staying in Suffolk with my Aunt and Uncle), and I brought back a wedge each of Sage Derby and Double Gloucester from the farm stand. (Derby is mild, firm, white cheese, and a well made Sage Derby is made by chopping up fresh sage leaves and mixing them in with the curd. Double Gloucester is a traditional English farmhouse cheese made from the whole milk and cream of two separate milkings and then let to age for six to nine months.) I set out the cheese at lunchtime, and I remember him eating his first slice.

“Holy shit that cheese is good!” he said. (My brother is not one to sugarcoat his language). I think he almost ate both wedges, and then said, “We need to go and get more of that cheese tomorrow.” I then made fun of him, and told him that if he kept up like this, he would not crap for the rest of the vacation (what are big sisters for?).

Looking back on both mine and my brother’s English cheese experience now, I know that it is no coincidence that both of us had our cheese epiphanies in England. Yes, you always hear of people having their enlightened cheese moments in France, but I have never been to France (sad, I know...I’ll get there some day). However, I think that it boils down to the same thing—the first experience of a cheese that is made in small quantities from high quality, and most likely, un-pasteurized milk.

You see, cheese should be a living, breathing, changing food—much like a good wine. In fact, if we are going to use wine as a metaphor, farmstead cheese can be likened to any good quality wine (and I mean good quality wine, not necessarily expensive wine), where as supermarket cheese can be paralleled with boxed wine. Like wine, cheese should be a reflection of the land and climate where it comes from. That is why a Wisconsin cheddar tastes different from an English cheddar, and why the same cheese recipe one year will taste different the next. The different grass that the cows, sheep, or goats eat, which all depends on the amount of rain and sunshine there is each year, completely changes the flavors of the milk that the animals give, which will completely change the flavors of the cheese.

Now, maybe "completely" is bit of a strong word, because all of these flavors that I am talking about are quite nuanced and layered. Yes, most of the time if you know your cheese, you can tell a cheddar is a cheddar. But what is amazing about cheese is when you get a cheddar that has hints of honey or lemon or pepper. All these flavor nuances come from high-quality milk, and as I said in my previous post, good cheese comes from good milk, and good milk comes from happy cows (and sheep and goats). But the story does not end there.

As I said, cheese should be a living, breathing, changing food. This means that it should be made from fresh, raw milk, which can be difficult to find in the United States. Although the laws vary from state to state, for the most part there are very rigid guidelines against un-pasteurized, or raw, milk in the US. Because milk comes straight out of the animal, alive and full of living organisms, this means that it is very perishable and open to contamination. French microbiologist Louis Pasteur discovered a way to make milk “safe” while also giving it a longer shelf life with his invention of the pasteurization process. As cheese aficionado Steven Jenkins puts it, “It was a great day for humankind, but a sad one for many of the world’s greatest cheeses.”

Milk in the United States must be pasteurized. There are two different ways to undertake the process, un-officially considered “good” pasteurization and “bad” pasteurization. In “good” pasteurization, the dairy farmer heats the milk to 144 degrees F (62 degrees C) and holds it at that temperature for 30 minutes. If this temperature is carefully maintained, most likely the temperature is low enough to not result in milk with a “cooked” flavor. “Bad” pasteurization almost always results in milk that tastes “cooked”. In “bad” pasteurization, the farmer heats the milk to 160 degrees F (71 degrees C) and holds it there for only 15 seconds. You can see why “bad” pasteurization (also known as “flash pasteurization”) is cheaper, easier, and thus the dominant practice in the US. However, by essentially cooking the milk, and killing all the bacteria (good and bad), you are destroying all the flavor nuances that result in delicious cheese.

According to US law, cheese made from raw milk must be aged at least 60 days at a temperature no less than 37 degrees F (1.7 degrees C) before being sold or imported. This means that all those delicious, fresh, soft cheeses that you find in Europe, cheeses that are made with fresh raw milk and meant to be eaten right away—the runny, gooey, delicious cheeses—are illegal here in the US, considered a potential “bio-hazard”. So yes, you can get un-pasteurized cheese here in the States, but only to some extent.

However, pasteurization is only part of the picture. As I said, good cheese comes from good milk. The other advantage to farmstead cheese is that it comes from the milk of animals that all fed on the same pasture at the same time, as opposed to milk from an industrial dairy where the animals are fed corn and mush. If cheese is a reflection of the land and climate in which the animals live, what do you expect cheese from an industrial dairy to taste like? Cooked milk—pretty much.

Once again, the difference between English and American cheeses comes down to an issue of scale, to some extent. However, there is more at play. Why are Americans so obsessed with pasteurizing milk? Why is cheese made from raw milk considered a potential “bio-hazard” where as we gobble down raw fish at sushi restaurants every night? When we have salmonella out-breaks in peanut butter, do we really think the cause of microbial infestation in our food supply is solely from raw milk? It all gets a little fuzzy here, and quite interesting. Why raw milk? Why not raw fish, raw nuts, raw fruit, raw vegetables, raw meat?

This post is getting quite long and bogged down with information, so I will leave it there for tonight and pick up on these questions later. I think that a grilled cheese sandwich is calling my name.

This Land is Your Land: Plant a Victory Garden

2009-02-05T08:10:00.003-06:00

Around the time of Obama's election, I wrote a few posts about my hopes for the next administration's stance on food as well as a post on my hope for Obama's choice of White House Chef. While my prediction (or hope) for Alice Waters as White House Chef did not come true, there is still a strong urging amongst a group of food activists for the Obama's to plant a White House victory garden, something that I mentioned in both of my previous posts. Mark Bittman featured a post on his NY Times Blog about victory gardens, mentioning Roger Doiron who made a video to show the Obama's how a victory garden could be done.

I watched the video just today, and it is great. Please watch it below. If I had a lawn I would make a garden in a heartbeat. I am jealous of all of you who have space to plant a garden. I will suffice for now with my window boxes--however, I may try to grow some tomatoes and peppers in pots up on the roof of my building this summer. I'll let you know how it goes. Oh, and back to cheese and English adventures in coming days...

Cheese and "The Little Guys": Neal's Yard Dairy and The Cheese Shop

2009-02-04T16:42:00.009-06:00

Cheese. I think it deserves to be considered its own food group. There are books, articles, and songs all written about cheese, and deservedly so. Not only is the stuff just so darn good, but it’s so intricately tied into certain human histories and cultures—even the bad stuff. I mean, when you think of American food, you have to think of “American cheese” and Kraft Singles. Yes, there are amazing cheeses being made in the US, and yes, “American cheese” is crap, but you must admit that it still comes to your mind. Swiss cheese makes you think of the Alps; stinky blue cheese makes you think of France; Gouda makes you think of Holland; Feta of Greece; Parmesan of Italy; Manchego of Spain; and on, and on.

When most people think of English cheeses, myself included, they think of Cheddar or Stilton, which are easily the most popular and widely known varieties of English cheese. But just as there are increasingly more incredible farmstead cheeses being made here in the States, the same goes for England. While there, I tasted some of the best cheeses I have ever had, and all of these cheeses were made on small family farms that had maybe twenty-five cows, max.

It is no surprise that cheese made on a smaller scale will taste better. Cheese making, especially making natural rind cheese, is labor intensive. To make these natural rind cheeses, the cheese-maker must essentially baby-sit the cheese for months, possibly even years, washing and turning the wheels constantly. Not to mention, the cheese-maker must have the right environment in which to keep the cheese (you don’t get natural caves everywhere like you do in the famous cheese making regions of France). However, both of these steps do not even matter unless you have high quality, sweet tasting milk. The bottom line is that no matter how long you wash or age cheese, if it does not come from good milk, it will fail to impress. Good cheese comes from good milk, and good milk comes from happy cows (and sheep, and goats)…but not all happy cows (and sheep, and goats) come from California. (Sadly, there are many very un-happy cows on California’s industrial dairy farms, but more on that later.)

Two places in England must be mentioned: Neal’s Yard Dairy and the Chester Cheese Shop.

A native Londoner friend recommended Neal’s Yard Dairy to me. He said, “Melissa, you HAVE to go to Neal’s Yard Dairy. Not only do you get cheese, but with every cheese you taste or buy there, you get a story.” Now, he did not mean that the cheese mongers gave you a little bed-time vignette with every sliver of cheese, but rather they can tell you about the farm and the farmer/cheese-maker where every single one of their cheeses come from.

You can read about the history of Neal’s Yard Dairy on their website. It is quite a fascinating tale. However, there is one very important aspect of it that I would like to pull out. Randolph Hodgson, after earning a food science degree, was the first cheese-maker for Neal’s yard Dairy. He eventually became the owner for the dairy, but even in the beginning, he bought cheese to supplement the ones made on site. The Neal’s Yard history states that “initially he did what everyone else did and went to a wholesaler. The cheeses that arrived were fairly anonymous and compared to the detailed knowledge Randolph had of his own cheese, he knew very little about their provenance or why they might taste different from one delivery to the next.”

Because Randolph did not know why some cheeses tasted different from others, rather than going through the middleman (the wholesaler), he started to go directly to the farmers. There he got to know each farmer, their herds, and how they make their cheese. This was all knowledge that he could then pass onto his customers, so when a customer came in and wanted a cheese that would go well with a certain wine, or a cheese that would be a perfect compliment to follow a roast duck meal, or a cheese that would be excellent along side a Stilton, he could point them in the right direction. After all, not all consumers of cheese are cheese experts, nor are they interested in becoming cheese experts—they just want to be guided to the right product so that they can enjoy it without doing extensive research.

So, to this day, when you go to Neal’s Yard for cheese, all the cheese mongers know about the origins of all the different cheese. Having hundreds of cheeses all in the same shop, this may seem like a daunting task. But you must also realize that with the exception of two cheeses, every single cheese they carry comes from the UK (the two not from the British Isle are a Greek Feta, and a goat cheese made in Oregon). Carrying only cheese made in England, Scotland, Northern Ireland, or Wales means that they can go directly to each farmer and learn about the cheese. This would obviously be an impossible task if they were importing cheese from all around the world.

The second fromagerie I wanted to mention is The Cheese Shop in Chester. Carol, the owner and founder The Cheese Shop, originally owned her own restaurant. She became frustrated with not being able to source excellent cheeses, as wholesalers had no information about the cheeses they had available to restaurants. As a farmer’s daughter, she knew what excellent cheese was, and the way that good cheese should taste. Cheese is a living thing that is always changing, much like a good wine (this statement gets a little complicated with the politics of pasteurization, which I will get into in my next post). So Carol decided to open up the Cheese Shop.

Like Neal’s Yard Dairy, The Cheese Shop in Chester carries mainly all cheese from the British Isles, although she does have a few Scandinavian cheeses as well as some from continental Europe. However, when you go the Chester Cheese Shop, all the ladies can tell you about the farm, the farmer, the cheese maker, and the cheese recipe of each cheese. As I mentioned in a previous post, I tried a cheese made by a little old lady in the next town over that tasted like honey. It was incredible—one of the best cheeses I have ever had. The woman who makes this cheese is 85 and only makes it, “when she feels like it.” The woman helping us at the counter expressed her worry that when the little old lady dies the recipe for the cheese will die with her. Yes, it is quite a melodramatic story…but it was damn good cheese.

So, I will continue on with my cheese discussion in coming days, but I wanted to point out that the benefit of going to places like the Cheese Shop and Neal’s Yard Dairy is that the people who work there are experts. They are connected to their product and so passionate about it that they beg you to try it. They want to tell you about it, to educate you about it. Even if you are not interested in becoming a cheese expert, you will at least be assured to walk out of there with a better product. In addition, you are supporting farmers who simply cannot compete on an industrial scale. You are supporting farmers who have only 25 heads of cattle. And you get to enjoy some of the best cheese in the world.

These two shops are merely the finest examples of all the cheese purveyors we visited while in England. Every town and village we went to had a market with a cheese stand, and almost every town and village had a cheese shop. And each one of these cheese shops or stands had a cheese monger who was dying to tell us about his favorite cheese and where it came from. Yes, you could buy cheese at the supermarkets as well, and you could find some very good cheese at the supermarkets, but nothing like these small shops in each town. Like I said, when you buy from specialty purveyors (whether they be cheese mongers, butchers, or green grocers), you are buying from an expert. You end up with a better product because the people selling it to you are actually interested in what they provide, and you are supporting “the little guy” in a capitalist culture of big industry. The bottom line is that “the little guys” make tastier products because they actually can pay attention to what they are making or selling.

Ah, there is so much about cheese to be said, so I will stop for now, and pick up the discussion later.

While on the subject of supermarkets: The scale of food economies in England vs. the US

2009-02-03T22:32:00.006-06:00

In my month abroad, I noticed some big differences between English and American supermarkets…

First off, although England has its fair share of convenience packaged items, the ingredient lists on these are significantly shorter than on most packaged items in the US. In addition, you are highly unlikely to see high fructose corn syrup (HFCS), in packaged food items in the UK. In the US, you would be hard pressed to find packaged food without HFCS. Candy, soda, sweetened yogurt, bottled dressings and marinades, etc. in England use cane sugar as the primary sweetener. Where as in the US, you have to really search to find soda or candy that does not contain high fructose corn syrup.

Second, although the packaged/pre-made food items are prevalent in England, you don’t see as much advertising for them. I actually did not notice this until I got back to the US. Once back in Chicago, everywhere I turned I saw adds for pre-packaged microwave rice, frozen entrees, canned soup, instant sauces, frozen skillet suppers, and on and on. I don’t know why, but advertising for packaged food in England does not seem to be as pervasive as in the United States.

Third, everything is so much smaller in England. This point I am sure does not come as a surprise. Everyone knows that US portion sizes are ridiculous. However, I am not just talking about portion sizes. I am talking about the actual size of vegetables. You would never find a potato the size of a small football in England. Eggplants in England are the size of our pears. Even the heads of lettuce are smaller in England. I am not sure why this is, but I suspect that it has something to do with agricultural methods. Oh, and it is quite noticeable that the smaller fruits and vegetables in England taste much better than what you get here in US supermarkets. Pretty much, the size of the fruits and vegetables you find at the farmers’ markets here in the US are the standard sizes of the fruits and vegetables that you find in the grocery stores in England.

Fourth, the produce isle in the Sainsburry’s, Tescos, Booths, Morrisons, and Waitrose I went into while in England were noticeably more diverse than what you would find at most American supermarkets. While a Safeway in the US may have a huge produce section, the variety of produce you will find is still small. You are not likely to find more than maybe three different varieties of potatoes, for example. One of the Tescos we were in must have had over fifteen different types of potatoes.

Fifth, for the most part, the supermarkets in England carried more seasonable produce. I did see some fruit that were obviously shipped in—mainly tropical fruits like bananas, mangos, and pineapples. And I did see some raspberries, although I am not sure where they were from. However, I did not see nearly as many fruits coming from the Southern Hemisphere as you would find in a US grocery store—I rarely saw asparagus, raspberries, blueberries, and so on. There were far more turnips, beets, celery root, sunchokes, rutabaga, potatoes, and winter squashes and gourds.

Sixth, the variety of cheeses and cured meats was astonishing compared to US supermarkets. Granted, many of these cheeses and cured meats were being imported from Italy, France, and Spain, and because of EU tariff agreements, there are no import taxes on these items as there would be if they were coming into the States. Also, there is the obvious issue of England being closer to continental Europe than the US. So I am not so sure this one really is a fair point. But nonetheless, it was something I noticed.

Seventh, chicken breasts in England look like they come from a normal sized chicken, and not some mutated Franken-bird with breasts so big that it can barely walk. There is a HUGE emphasis in English grocery stores on free-range chickens and eggs. This is in large part due to English celebrity chefs such as Gordon Ramsey and Jamie Oliver who publicly put enormous pressure on grocery store chains to only carry free-range birds.

I could go on, but I think that all of my observations tie into the food policy differences between Europe and the United States.

I see the matter as one that boils down to scale—the scale of the food economy in the US versus England. The United States is a FAR bigger country than England. Because we have these massive GMO monocultures of corn, potatoes, and soy, we have an enormous surplus of these crops being shoved down our throats. Because England is a smaller country, and has policies against these massive GMO monoculture crops, you see more variety in their food, and not to mention, fewer additives in the food that are made of corn and soy. In sum, I would say that all the differences I saw between US and English supermarkets can be boiled down to the scale of agriculture that exists in each nation. Smaller farms mean more variety of food, as well as fresher food. Huge industrial farms mean industrial sized and industrial tasting food. Obviously, this is quite a superficial assessment—it really is all speculative. I have not done enough research into the numbers to back up my theory here. But the issue of scale is my educated guess as to the differences I observed. You will see in coming posts, that this will be a recurring theme.

But for now, I am off to enjoy a cup of tea.

A Tale of Two Shopping Experiences

2009-02-01T23:01:00.005-06:00

Yesterday I went to the supermarket. Supermarket—the word sums it up. A market where you purchase not only every type food you may need (meat, poultry, fish, dairy, grains, fruit, vegetables, and not to mention confections, breads, and cakes), but also any necessary cleaning supplies, toilet paper, kitchen utensils, flowers, plants, even movie rentals. You can buy your liquor wine and beer there (depending on state liquor laws), and some stores even have a dry-cleaner. It all sounds like a fabulous concept—a one-stop shop for all your domestic needs. It is the essence of the America—big, fast, efficient, cheap, easy—leaving more time for other aspects of life, whatever they may be.

However, as I wondered around the supermarket, I became increasingly disillusioned. The food all sat there in perfect shining form. Mountains of bright red perfectly shaped apples, heaps of unblemished potatoes, and bunches of perfectly straight and plump carrots all perched on the produce shelves beckoning to be in my cart. I walked by the meat department and saw rows and rows of chickens on display inside the glass case. Sitting in front of the chickens was a sign, stating, “Locally raised chickens. Ask one of us about it.” So I did. A guy came over and I said, “Hey, where do these chickens come from?”

He looked puzzled and said, “Oh, you mean, where is the farm?”

“Sure,” I said, “Where is the farm, and what type of farm is it?”
“Ummm, I think that it is an Amish farm somewhere in Indiana, or maybe Illinois. I don’t know, somewhere in that area, out there.”

Well, I took a chicken anyway. I wandered over to the dairy department to get some milk. Eventually I left the store with my groceries feeling as if I had just armed myself with a week’s worth of provisions.

Two weeks before, I was in England—Chester to be precise. We were staying with friends and went with them to do some shopping. First stop, the butcher. The shop was small, and the case displayed a small sampling of what was on offer—chops, bacon rashes, chickens, pheasants, game hens, sausages, loins, black pudding, tied roasts, and even some eggs over in the far corner. Roast beef was on our menu for the night. Our friend told him what he was cooking, and the butcher pointed to a cut of meat. “How is this piece?” he said. “It will roast up nicely.”

“Perhaps one with a little more marbling,” our friend said.

“Of course,” said the butcher, as he disappeared into the back. He returned with a huge loin of beef and cut us off a piece. He trimmed away the excess fat, and tied it all up, ready to be seasoned and put in the oven. Behind the counter, two other men worked away trimming and cutting more pieces of meat for other customers.
“Anything else?” said the butcher.

“Ten rashes of bacon, some lamb stew meat, and some eggs please.”

With all the cuts wrapped in white butcher paper, we left the shop and headed for the green grocer. A short walk across the town square, the green grocer’s shop was small, but loaded with heads of broccoli, buckets of yellow onions, sacks of all different varieties of potatoes, bunches of carrots, heads of lettuce, and all other types of produce you could want. The produce here was not all beautiful—the carrots were slightly dirty and crooked, the potatoes were caked with some mud, the broccoli was not on perfect tall straight stalks, and the apples and oranges were colorful, but had a dull matte finish (what apples and oranges actually look like before a protective coating of wax is applied to them). However, the store smelled like the earth—you could smell the dirt, and it all smelled alive. The green grocer, himself, was on the other side of the shop while we wandered and chose out the vegetables we needed. He was busy telling other customers about Jerusalem artichokes—they are in peak season in January.

With produce in tow, we walked down the street to the cheese monger (our friends first made a stop at the granary to pick up some flour). You could smell the cheese from down the block. We walked into the cozy little shop, eyes bulging at the mountains of cheese—big wheels, small wheels, wedges, squishy rounds, cheese covered in leaves, cheese covered in grass, cheese made of ewe’s milk, cheese made of goat milk, blue cheese, soft cheese, hard cheese, smelly cheese, sweet cheese, fresh cheese, aged cheese—the list goes on and on. There were hundreds of types of cheese in front of us, but every single on was from somewhere in the British Isles.

The lady behind the counter walked up to us, “Hello!” she said, in her northern English accent. “Like to try some? What do you want? Here here, start with this; it is just lovely. Mrs. Higgins in the town just down the road makes this—fresh ewe’s milk. I don’t know how she does it, and she only makes it when she feels like it, so you best feel lucky that we have it in.”

I took the sliver of cheese she shaved off. A pale butter yellow color, with small holes, it melted on my tongue—creamy and smooth leaving a lingering taste of honey, distinctly honey. It was possibly the best cheese I have had.

“That is amazing!” I said. “What else do you recommend?”

“Well, what type of cheese do you like?”

“Oh, I love cheese that has those little grainy crystals in it, like a Pecorino or a Romano.”

“Ah, well here is one from Devon, it is an Italian recipe for Pecorino. It really is quite lovely.”

We continued to try about six different cheeses, and finally decided upon three to take home with us.

On the way home, arms loaded with our bags of food, I not only had a weeks worth of provisions, but I had stories. I had experiences. The food I was going to eat for the next few days connected me to someone in the town I was visiting—the butcher, the green grocer, the cheese lady. The succulent roast beef, the sweet and wonderful leeks, and the soft creamy cheese were not only delicious because of their freshness and quality, but because they connected me to a meaningful human interaction—experts so passionate about the product they sold to their customers that they wanted to tell you about it; they wanted you to try it; and they wanted you to come back and tell them how it was. The guy in the meat department at the supermarket surely did not care whatsoever if I enjoyed my chicken, even if I should happen to see him again the next time I go to that particular store.

The difference in these two shopping experiences does a large part to sum up the differences between food in England and food in the United States. This is not to say that there are not supermarkets in England, because there are plenty. And there are plenty of butchers and cheese mongers and green grocers in the US. However, there are still major political, cultural, and social differences in how each country approaches food and drink.

In response to the comments on my previous post—my goal is not to defend English food as being better than, or even in some way equal to French, Spanish, or Italian cuisine. First, I have never been to France, Spain, or Italy, so I have no authority to speak on the subject of those cuisines. And second, as Ben stated in his comment, I think that you must appreciate English food for what it is—food as product of England’s land and the culture. When I say that England is light years ahead of the US in the food scene, I don’t necessarily mean that England is serving up tastier dishes. I mean to say that government policies regarding food, as well as cultural approaches to food in England, I deem healthier than what we currently have in the United States. If I were to name a single reason why, I would say that it is a matter of scale. England is a country that is what, barely the size of California?? The United States is massive, and because we have a fairly centralized and industrial food system, food is produced for maximum quantities and longer shelf lives. Quality is an afterthought, as are those who grow or raise our food.

So, let this be an introduction. I will start the following series of posts with the political front—talking about EU food regulations versus the United States, and then continue on with some more specific food experiences and themes from my month on the British Isle. There will also be a post or two on British ale, which is classified as a food under EU law (more on that later), and there will be a post or two just on cheese…because, honestly, who does not love cheese? So for now…

Back from a month abroad, with more to come

2009-01-19T16:13:00.006-06:00

I’m back in action, and I must say that it has been refreshing to take a month off. At the moment I am in a coffee shop overlooking the Thames River. I fly back to the States tomorrow and anticipate a few days of exhaustion and jetlag, but at the moment my mind is full of fresh insights, new quandaries, and different perspectives after spending a month in England.

Previously I mentioned that I would try to post while I was on my trip, but during my travels, I feared that any post I did write might turn into a travel diary as opposed to a fully formed and coherent thought on what I was experiencing. So I decided to leave you, dear reader, hanging for a month. Rather I jotted down notes in my precious Moleskin notebook as I tasted, smelled, sipped, gulped, walked, wandered, talked, and listened my way through England. I have been to the Brittan many times, but this trip was the first time that I experienced parts of the country other than London and Suffolk (where my family lives).

Because this blog is a food-ish based blog, and not a travel blog, I am not going to re-cap my trip day-by-day or destination-by-destination, but rather focus on different culinary themes that I experienced and noticed throughout the month. This post is merely to alert you that I am still alive, and I will continue to write further upon my return. Of some things that you can look forward to reading are my thoughts on the merits of English ale, the wonders of un-pasteurized cheese, the unique British pub culture, the presence of local markets and specialty purveyors, the amazingness of savory pies, the aspects of English tea and coffee culture, and London’s alternatives to fast-food. All these topics will probably have a slight anthropological twist to them, and all of them will have an underlying theme of (dun dun dun….) “The myth of bad English Food.”

Yes, before I left, when I told people that I was going to England for a month, more often than not someone would say, “Well, it is too bad that England has such bad food.” While it is true that this was the prevailing sentiment twenty years ago, nothing could be farther from the truth today. In fact, I think that in more ways than one England is light years ahead of the United States in the food scene. But you will have to wait a few days for me to fully start to explain myself.

For now, I need to go and pack the various heavy and breakable things I seemed to think were a good idea to lug back with me (a teapot, half-pint glasses, and an old fashioned glass lemon juice sqeezer), along with the copious amounts of tea I have amassed, and bid you farewell until I am back in the US again.

I'm Leaving...On a Jet Plane...

2008-12-16T09:21:00.007-06:00

I have so many posts that I want to write, and apologize for not getting them up in a timely fashion. However, the past week has been a bit frantic as I have been finishing work for the magazine and getting myself packed and ready...because...I am off to England for a month!

Ben and I will be meeting in London and then traveling to Suffolk (where we will be for Christmas), Norwich, Cambridge, Lancaster, Chester, York, Durham, Leeds, and then back to London.

So this post is to say several things:

First, I don't know how much internet access I will have during my travels. Ideally, I would like to post about the food I am eating, seeing, cooking, smelling, etc. while I traipse around the United Kingdom, but the posts may have to wait until I get back. However, if I manage to get to an internet café, I will surely put up a post.

Second, is to say that although I do not have a very cerebral post here for you today, I did write a guest blog post for Ben's blog on Christmas food. He is doing a 12 Days of Christmas special series on his blog that is really cool. And you can also read about his travels in Russia, including the merits (and maybe misfortunes) of Russian beer.

So with that, I leave you with a picture of my favorite Christmas food, my annual Christmas cake (read about the cake on Ben's blog and my previous post on fruitcake). And I hope that I will post again sooner rather than later...

Anthropology: The tantilizing, the titillating, the shocking...the mundane

2008-12-07T22:40:00.007-06:00

“People are as fascinated by anthropology as anthropologists are fascinated by people. The anthropologist makes us take a new look at ourselves; he shows us the alternatives to our own secure and petty lives—or insecure and grandiose lives, for that matter.”
--Robin Fox, Encounter with Anthropology

I have not written much in the realm of anthropological theory lately, and I thought that it may be time to briefly go back to academics for a bit. The reason being is that I received an email a few days ago telling me that this blog was included in a list of the Top 100 Anthropology Blogs by Online Universities.com. Click here for the complete list. I am extremely flattered to be included on this list, and I bring it up for two reasons. First, because there are some really great and fascinating blogs included on there that you should really check out. Second, because being included on this list of anthropology blogs makes me think about what this blog actually is…is it an “anthropology blog,” or is it a “food blog”? I don’t really know how to answer that question, but the more I think about it, I think that it is a good thing that I cannot easily categorize this blog.

I have a love/hate relationship with the field of anthropology. Well, maybe “hate” is a bit too strong of a word. I should say that I have a love/skeptical relationship with anthropology. However, the more I think about the discipline, I realize that my skeptical feelings are not necessarily toward anthropology, but rather are toward anthropology in academia. The quote at the beginning of this post is by Robin Fox, one of my favorite anthropologists—Mr. Fox sums up the discipline perfectly. Anthropology, by definition, is the study of man. It makes us take a deeper look at who we are as a living species—our physical nature, our social behavior, our culture, our psychology. Mr. Fox also states that, “Anthropologists are the custodians of the unconscious of the human race…making the familiar seem exotic amusing.” To me, human beings are fascinating, and I think that we deserve an entire discipline devoted to studying the complexities of our physical, social, and cultural nature.

However, the problem with anthropology in academia is that it stays in academia. The research of anthropologists is so diverse and so fascinating, but too often it remains confined within the walls of universities. Like I said, this is not a problem with anthropology per say; rather it is a problem with the nature of academia. The best and the brightest anthropologists too often write only for an academic audience. They assume that their readers already have a somewhat extensive background in the field, and thus their writing is drenched in anthropological nomenclature and abstract academic theory. This is all fine and well if you do indeed have the background to understand this writing, but this also means that all the innovative research and insight only speaks to a very small population. However, anthropology is the study of humans…ALL humans! If we want to make our world a better place to live in, isn’t taking a critical look at ourselves a key part of the equation? And this means that anthropological insight should be reported not just to academics, but to everyone in hopes of educating all people about the nature of our societies.

Basically, this conundrum comes down to the age-old binary of theory vs. practice. My belief is that anthropological theory and insight should be put into everyday practice. But the only way this will happen is if everyone has access to the knowledge that is being generated in academia. This means that we need a bridge between academia and the “real world” (I hate using that term, but I think that is the best way express what I mean for the time being). That bridge is where I hope to carve my niche.

I am not an anthropologist. I studied anthropology for a bit, and I continue to maintain an interest in the field. I continue to read anthropological writing. Because I have some background in academic anthropology, I do understand a great deal of the nomenclature and the theory. But like I said, I am not an anthropologist. I have not devoted decades of my life to reading and research and fieldwork. At one point, I thought that I would, but upon realizing the rickety-ness of that bridge connecting academia to the “real world,” I changed my mind. My goal now is to make that bridge stronger. Thus, my “ethnography” is mundane—it is simply a critical eye on the everyday behavior I see around me. I aim to write in hopes of inspiring everyday people to think about themselves and the world around them, and to connect people outside of the academy with the ideas that are happening within academia—specifically regarding food.

Food. This forays into my second question. Is this a “food blog”? Well, no. Not really. I am not an anthropologist, and I am not a chef. Sometimes I may post a non-cerebral rambling about the food I cooked or tried, but I don’t post recipes here. I love, love, love to cook. But there are FAR better cooks than me in the world. And there are thousands of wonderful food blogs out there—this is certainly not one of them.

Food, however, has the wonderful ability to capture almost everyone’s interest. This is simply because everyone eats. Because eating is an activity that every human partakes in, it is one of those “mundane” events that most people do not give a second thought to. We too often take eating for granted. And that statement has multiple and layered meanings. I hope to inspire thought in regards to these layers and meanings.

So, this blog is in a grey area somewhere between an anthropology blog and a food blog. It is a work in progress. I am not an expert. I just hope to get a discussion rolling. To me, the “mundane” aspects of life are often the most interesting—so, the mundane is my starting point, and we’ll see where it will take me.

My prediction (or hope) for the White House Chef

2008-12-01T11:35:00.009-06:00

Over my morning bowl of oatmeal I read that Barack Obama officially nominated Hilary Clinton as Secretary of State. He certainly has lost no time making selections for his cabinet and the nations most important presidential advisers. However, while I sit and read the commentary about the whole matter, I can’t help but wonder about two particular appointments: the secretary of agriculture and the White House Chef.

OK, let’s set the secretary of agriculture aside for a minute, because that topic really deserves it own conversation. The White House Chef? Some people may laugh and think that the position is a novelty, but trust me, there is a lot of buzz about this. The bloggosphere of food writers and culinary enthusiasts are in heated discussion over who Obama will name as the nations First Chef. Perhaps the reason people are so interested in the appointment is because foodies have noticed that Obama eats well—he eats damn well.

Now, there is a difference between eating highbrow or eating trendy and eating well. By eating well, I mean that the Obamas definitely have the respect of many food writers, bloggers, and just general foodies due to their restaurant choices around Chicago. If Obama merely wanted to eat highbrow, he would eat at the myriad of ridiculously expensive steak houses around the city, or at the super trendy sushi places and huge fancy downtown restaurants that offer beautiful scenery and décor, attractive wait staff, and mediocre food—all for a hefty chunk-a-change. But the Obamas, besides being spotted at various incredibly delicious neighborhood joints around the windy city (including both Medici on 57th and Harold’s Chicken Shack in Hyde Park), frequents restaurants like Fonterra Grill, Charlie Trotters, and Spiagga. Don’t get me wrong—these places will cost you pretty penny as well (a TON of pretty pennies, actually), but these places are not only some of the best restaurants in the world, but all are known for their “Slow” ways (as in following the principles of the Slow Food Movement) as well sourcing all their ingredients from local purveyors and changing their menus according to the seasons. The point of me relaying all this info on where the Obamas eat is really just to point out that the Obamas are foodies—at least, (I think) Michele is a foodie. Like I said, they eat damn well.

Plenty of bloggers are using the Obamas’ choices of Chicago restaurants to predict who the next White House chef will be. Many predict that Obama will name Rick Bayless the White House Chef. Others are adamant that the appointment will go to Oprah’s personal chef, Art Smith. However, I disagree. I don’t think that it will be Bayless or the Oprah guy. Other people have suggested Charlie Trotter—but once again, I don’t think so. I am reluctant to “predict” anything, because I am horribly bad at predictions, but I will say who I think WOULD be a great pick for White House Chef, and why the heck it matters.

More than anything, I think that one of Obama’s great strengths as President will be to lead by example. He is already an inspiration to millions of black children around the country who can now realistically believe that they can grow up to be president one day. In an interview with Barbara Walters, the Obamas said that they intend to “open up the White House,” inviting both the children of all the people who work for the administration as well as D.C. neighborhood children to play with their kids. Barack Obama is extremely open about his workout regimen, and there sure is a ton of media hype about them adopting a rescue dog. The point being, the Obamas are attempting to openly set and example of good parenting, good fitness, and animal welfare already. I think we will continue to see similar openness regarding other aspects of their personal lives.

So, the White House Chef, who we normally see as a novelty, can also be a strategic pick aimed at setting an example for food and cooking in America. That is why I think that the First Chef should not be a highfalutin celebrity chef, but rather a cook who prepares simple food in accordance with the season and supports local farmers and producers. Michael Pollan puts forward this very same suggestion in his open letter to the President Elect. He says, “The choice of White House chef is always closely watched, and you [the president elect] would be wise to appoint a figure who is identified with the food movement and committed to cooking simple from fresh local ingredients. Besides feeding you and your family exceptionally well, such a chef would demonstrate how it is possible even in Washington to eat locally for much of the year, and that good food needn’t be fussy or complicated, but it does depend on good farming.” Pollan also suggests that the President Elect should name a White House farmer who would work closely with the chef to grow and procure the produce for the First Family.

The bottom line is that the White House chef is not a novelty. My faculty adviser for my bachelor’s thesis once told me, “Melissa, everything is political.” And this statement could not fit the situation more perfectly—make the White House chef a political statement. Make the food that the first family eats an example to the rest of the nation. And don’t just set an example of “good nutrition” by eating lots of veggies, but rather the President Elect should be mindful of the whole picture around food and set and example with HOW the first family eats.

Obviously, there are more pressing issues in our country at the moment to deal with than what the first family has for dinner. But we need to realize that food is wrapped up in these pressing issues. If we can get more people to farm, we create more jobs. If we can get better school lunches in public schools, and even gardening programs in public schools, we are improving both public health and education. (Studies have shown that there is sharp decline in elementary school kids attention spans after the lunch period when most of them eat tons of sugar.)

I can envision a role for the White House chef as not only the cook for the President and his visitors, but as an adviser to the President on issues surrounding food. I can envision the White House chef as supporting programs that will aid school lunch initiatives, especially in low-income communities. An executive chef does not slave away in the kitchen, but rather is more like the captain of a ship—overseeing the whole operation. So let the First chef oversee more than just the First Family’s meals—let he or she speak publicly and set and example for responsible eating. All this would be very subtle, but I think still very influential.

So with all of this said, who do I think Obama should name as White House chef? I am not making a prediction, but I would like to see Alice Waters as White House chef. She started a movement back in the 1970’s and has been committed to it ever since. She understands the principles behind the food movement. She developed The Edible School Yard program, started in Berkeley public schools, which then spread to other school districts across the country. She transformed the way that students eat on campus at Yale University. Alice Waters knows the farmers, knows the chefs, knows the food leaders to make the connections across the nation to bring attention to small farms and small ranches. She knows foreign leaders who care about food (she showed Prince Charles and Camilla around Berkeley public school gardens two years ago). She is the vice president of Slow Food International. And Alice Waters knows the Obamas (well, at least Michele). Michele Obama showed Alice Waters around Chicago’s Green City Market last year preceding a talk she gave here on public school gardens.

All the cards are in place, so I am crossing my fingers. To change the way Americans think about food does not have to be an all-or-nothing deal. I am not saying that we should wake up tomorrow and never eat a candy bar or Easy Mac again. Processed food will never go away. However, Americans still have one of the unhealthiest relationships to food compared to the vast majority of other “Western” industrialized countries. Small changes and a good example could go a long way to improving the way that we think about food. Or maybe I should say that small changes and a good example could get us to think more about food in the first place, which is all I am really asking for at the moment.

Cultrual Aspects of the Olympics--Bring on the Food!

2008-11-20T23:43:00.009-06:00

Ah the Olympics. A time of world unity and celebration. A time of good sportsmanship and earnest competition. A brief two weeks every two years (Winter games included that is) where the world somehow comes together not only to learn a little bit more about each other, but to essentially “play” with each other. If you think about it objectively, and you set aside all the political banters, power trips, passport-age-changing, crowbar-knee-hacking, and most likely a (un)healthy doses of bribery and performance enhancing drugs, it is really an amazing and kumbaya-ish phenomenon. Why am I talking about the Olympics? Weren't the Beijing games over months ago? Don’t worry. This boils down to food eventually (doesn’t it always?)

My very lovely roommate, Sofie, is an Olympics genius. Well, she is a genius in many other ways as well, but those ways are subject for another post. However, Sofie knows just about everything regarding the Olympics, and she was explaining all the inner-workings of the International Olympic Committee (IOC), how the bid process works, and generally a whole bunch of other cool stuff that I did not know about the Olympic games.

Now, I have never been to any Olympic games before, so this may come of no surprise to other people, but I had no idea that at each Olympics also hosts many arts and cultural events. Apparently, the 2000 games in Sydney showcased incredible art exhibits, including aboriginal art at some of Sydney’s finest and fanciest art galleries, which had never been done before. At the 1996 games in Atlanta, the Atlanta committee managed to bring together EIGHT literature Nobel Laureates in the same room to have a discussion—something that had not occurred before, and has not occurred since.

So, I will link this all back to my opening comments—the Olympics is a time for the rest of the world to not only get to know each other a little better, but especially for the rest of the world to get to know the host city quite a lot better—not only its athletes, but the all the unique and varied aspects of its culture. This culture is often displayed through different means throughout the games, most notably the opening and closing ceremonies (remember those crazy drums in Beijing this summer?), but also the traditional dress of the (normally always women) escorts to the award presenter at each awards ceremony.

Each Olympic games also has its own poster, its own symbol, its own specific torch, and even its own mascot (remember the really awful blue creature named Izzy for the Atlanta games?). All of these serve to promote the culture of the host city (OK, well maybe not the blue creature. Admittedly, there have been some other very bad mascots that really served no cultural purpose, but there were just as many mascots that did relate to the host city’s traditions and identity somehow). I think this is all pretty cool—like I said very kumbaya-ish in the way that the whole world comes together to learn a little more about each other.

However, an idea then hit me—each Olympic city should have an official Olympics games dish! Just think---in Turin, the dish could have been gianduja, that marvelous chocolate and hazelnut combination that Nutella is crafted after. Gianduja is originally from Turin, and therefore it’s no surprise that it is the city’s specialty.

However, my point is that food is over looked at the Olympics as a cultural phenomenon. I could be wrong about this, because like I said, I have never been to any Olympic games, but I think that it would be really cool to have an official Olympic dish representing the host city to go with the torch, the symbol, the poster, and the mascot. Not to mention, think of all the cool cultural food events that could be held in the Olympic village and surrounding areas. I think that one of the best ways to get to know a city or a region or a country is through its food.

What do other people think? Is this a good idea, a bad idea, a silly idea? Has anyone been to the Olympics and experienced the food? Maybe there is a future career for me here: the official Olympics food promoter. I could dig it. That would not be a bad gig.

Whole Foods Vow to “Local” Food—Their definition of “Local”

2008-11-11T23:19:00.006-06:00

After Whole Food’s lost billions of dollars due to Michael Pollan’s criticisms of the company in The Omnivore’s Dilemma, John Mackey—Whole Foods CEO—announced that a certain percentage of products in every Whole Foods store would be locally sourced. Well, this is an admirable move for such a large company.

But, what does “local” actually mean? As I discovered with the Treasure Island bell peppers, grocery stores seem to have either a non-existent definition of “local” or a very loose one. Well, I now have an inside connection to Whole Foods, although this person shall remain nameless. And I just learned, from my secret insider source, that Whole Foods does indeed have a definition for “local,” but this definition may surprise you. This is what Whole Foods says on their website:

“Local produce is by definition seasonal. In spring in California, that means artichokes; summer in Michigan means blueberries and autumn in Washington means apples. We value this natural diversity, and each of our 11 regions has its own firm guidelines for using the term ‘local’ in our stores. While only products that have traveled less than a day (7 or fewer hours by car or truck) can even be considered for ‘local’ designation, most stores have established even shorter maximum distances. Ask a team member for your store's definition of ‘local.’”

Well, if you were to ask a team member at one of the stores (the secret source’s store is to also remain secret) you would be told that “local” means a product that was grown OR packaged within the state border of that particular store, or within a 250 mile radius of that store.

Now first off, many states in the US are very large. So, to consider San Francisco Bay Dungeness crab a “local” product in San Diego seems a little odd to me.

Secondly, notice the language here—a product that was grown **OR PACKAGED** within the state border or 250 mile radius. This means that corn grown in Iowa can be trucked or flown to a processing plant in California where it is turned into tortilla chips and sold in a California Whole Foods as a “local” product. Does this seem a little odd to you, or is it just me?

I wonder why each store needs to have its own individual definition of “local”. Why is it not a company wide standard? On one hand, I think that Whole Foods is an admirable company. They treat and pay their workers well, they give great benefits, and the fact that they at least attempt to promote local food is a good thing. However, when I hear things like this definition of local, I start to get a little bitter because I feel deceived as a customer—-especially if I am paying a premium price for these supposedly “local” items. This is why I am a fan of the farmers’ markets. I can support and buy from the local farmers directly. Although, I do like Whole Foods' beer selection, if that is any consolation…

***Image from Whole Foods Website Flickr Account

My wish for the next four years: reinvesting in the profession of skilled farming, part 1

2008-11-05T02:50:00.006-06:00

I had mixed feelings all day yesterday regarding all the election hoopla. On one hand, I was excited; I have hope (pardon the now clichéd term). I am proud to say that I am part of history in the making. I was downtown Chicago to see Obama win and give his acceptance speech. The vibe was truly electrifying. However, at the same time, I am anxious and a little cynical. I was telling Ben that I think there are far too many political issues for every person to be knowledgeable and passionate about all of them. That being said, I by no means consider myself an expert on foreign policy, social security, or the state of health care. What I am passionate about, and what I believe can truly make a change across all sectors of society—economy, health, education, and foreign relations included—-is a reform of our food and agricultural policies. But, neither candidate made food any part of his platform. So, I sit and wonder, will this ever become a widely discussed issue? Like I said, I have hope. More and more people are talking about food and the need to support local farms and stop our dependence on industrial agriculture. According to Michael Pollan, the U.S.D.A. now estimates that there are 4,700 farmers’ markets across the country—they are the fastest growing segment of the food market, and that is promising.

What I hope for, however, is that Obama will bring food to light as a major national issue. So, to continue my discussion and response to Michael Pollan’s “Farmer in Chief” article, I personally think that the best suggestion Pollan gives is for the president elect (who we now know is Obama) to name not only the White House chef, but to name an official White House farmer. Pollan recommends that the White House farmer tear out five prime acres of the south facing White House lawn and plant an organic fruit and vegetable garden in its place. Eleanor Roosevelt did almost the same thing in 1943 when she started a Victory Garden movement which helped to feed the nation during World War II. By the end of the war, more than 20 million home gardens supplied 40 percent of the produce consumed in America. That is huge. And this goes to show the power that the example of our nation’s First Family can have. The bottom line is that people often listen best by example.

However, I admit that it is far too much to hope that every American grows his or her own food. That is completely impractical. What is practical is regionalized farming, as I already mentioned. Get a hold of this: Today, the average yield of world agriculture (industrial monocultures) is substantially lower than of modern sustainable farming. According to a University of Michigan study, bringing international crop yields up to today’s organic levels could increase the world’s food supply by 50 percent. Pollan is quick to remind us though that yield is not everything. So much of what we are growing today is not quality produce…it is not even quality food. Rather the crops consist of inedible corn and soy that we then process into low quality, high sugar, and high fat packaged “food” items. Not to mention, forty percent of the world’s grain output is now fed to animals—and cows are not even supposed to eat grain. Cattle actually cannot properly digest the corn that they are fed at industrial feed lots, and therefore, they require artificial hormones and antibiotics in order to survive the feedlot life…but this is the topic for another post.

Pollan explains that well developed polycultures—farms growing multiple type of grain and produce as well as raising multiple species of animals—can produce more food per acre than conventional monocultures of genetically modified corn, soy, and wheat. However, here is the catch. Anyone can buy genetically modified seeds, throw them into thousands of acres and soil, and then douse the plants with herbicides and pesticides—killing everything on the land except for the GMO crop. It is fool proof farming, with no skill involved. Farming a polyculture—what I consider REAL farming—is complicated and needs many hands and a keen mind. It is a highly skilled trade, one that used to be highly respected generations ago, but has gone to the wayside as America became an urban nation of cars and interstate highways. Therefore, what we truly need, what I truly hope for, is a re-investment in the profession of skilled farming. Today, the average American farmer is over the age of 55. We used to be a nation of small farms—the vision that the Founding Fathers, and most notably Thomas Jefferson, built our country upon. Reinvensting in farming as a profession of skill and high respect will not only help to make our food system safer (decentralizing it and making it less vulnerable to attacks or quickly spreading food born illnesses), but it will make our food more nutritious (since a shorter time from field to plate means more nutrients in the food). And perhaps the major advantage to re-investing in skilled farming is the amount of jobs it will create.

That is my two cents for today…this post will be continued tomorrow. So for now, here are some photos from the rally yesterday. It was really an incredible experience. I hope that the next four years live up to the optimism that people are feeling at the moment—I have a good feeling…

A Photo Ethnography of Pilsen

2008-11-03T23:45:00.003-06:00

I am briefly pausing my Michael Pollan discussion for the day. Today is too full of politics, excitement, and anticipation for people across the US, and really the entire world. So for today, here is a mini photo-ethnography of one of Chicago's many diverse neighborhoods, Pilsen.

Pilsen originally housed Chicago's Czech community around 1868. Poles and other nationalities, mostly East European, also moved into the area during the early twentieth century. Today however, Pilsen is known as the primary Mexican neighborhood in Chicago (although this may be changing again due to gentrification). Mexican families first moved to Pilsen in the 1950's, and again, a large influx of Mexicans moved into Pilsen when they were displaced from the area where the University of Illinois (UIC) was built in 2000. Some neighborhood people still harbor bitterness about it and many are suspicions that UIC will expand into Pilsen and displace more people. It seems more and more young students or recent graduates are moving to the neighborhood every month. However, Pilsen continues to be a port of entry for many Mexican families from rural Mexico and Texas.

So, here are some images from the neighborhood. Oh, and go and vote...

Michael Pollan’s “Farmer in Chief”—Food as an issue of National Security

2008-11-02T23:45:00.005-06:00

OK, so there is no denying that Michael Pollan is probably voting Obama. However, if there is one single issue that is truly bi-partisan in his arguments, it is food as an issue of national security. (I personally think he brings up many issues of bipartisan interest, but I’ll get to that later.) First off, Pollan reminds us that after cars, the food system uses more fossil fuel than any sector of the economy—19 percent to be exact. Now, set aside the issues of global warming and air pollution for a second, and just focus on the argument that both the Republicans and Democrats make: We need to reduce our dependence on foreign oil as an issue of protecting our nation from foreign terrorists. Now, I am not saying whether or not I agree with this, but I am just pointing out that is a stance that both political parties have made. If the food system uses more fossil fuel than any other part of our economy, except for cars, it seems like a logical starting point for policy reform…But neither candidate mentioned any type of agricultural reform in his speeches.

Next, get a hold of this point: Recently, more than 30 countries have experience food riots. Countries that welcomed the global flood of cheap grain coming from the US (made possible largely by genetically modified varieties of corn, soy, and other crops), suffered the loss of their own farmers and now cannot feed their own populations without relying on Washington and Wall Street (and not to mention the companies holding the patents for GMO crops). Pollan explains that many of these nations are now rushing to rebuild their own agricultural sectors and then will protect them by installing trade barriers. He states, “Expect to hear the phrases, ‘food sovereignty’ and ‘food security’ on the lips of every foreign leader you meet…It is one of the larger paradoxes of our time that the very same food policies that have contributed to overnutrition in the first world are now contributing to undernutrition in the third.”

Basically, countries all over the world are now struggling with food prices and are coming to realize that food is a national security issue. “When a nation looses the ability to substantially feed itself, it is not only at the mercy of global commodity markets but of other governments as well.” This issue does not only include the availability of food—because clearly we are not running low on calories in the U.S.—but it also includes the safety of food. Already, as Americans sat in astonishment this year watching salmonella outbreaks spread across the country, we saw the havoc that a tainted jalapeño pepper from Mexico could wreak on our food system. And last year we witnessed how quickly e coli could spread across the nation due to one batch of poorly cleaned **organic** spinach. These episodes were due to accidents or negligence (whatever you choose to call it), but what if someone or some country decided to deliberately contaminate our food supply? The big industry, centralized nature of our food system is begging for disaster. Pollan tells us Tommy Thompson, the secretary of health and human services, stated in a press conference, “I for the life of me, cannot understand why the terrorists have not attacked our food supply, because it is so easy to do.” One word: SCARY.

Pollan goes on, “This in brief, is the bad news: the food and agriculture policies you’ve inherited—designed to maximize production at all costs and relying on cheap energy to do so—are in shambles, and the need to address the problems they have caused is acute.” He then explains the history behind us agricultural policies leading up to the current moment in history. Basically, the U.S. government, backed by large corporations, developed policies that strangled small farmers and promoted massive industrial monocultures of corn and soy. Why do you think soft drink companies made the switch from cane sugar to high fructose corn syrup to sweeten their sodas? Corn and its derivatives are CHEAP, but they are cheap only at the front end. When you start to count the “back door” expenses, which now include health care costs due to obesity and diabetes, you start to see that it is not so cheap after all. But that is also another entire issue to address.

So, what does Pollan suggest? The most obvious answer is to decentralize our food system. Bring back and promote local farms. Don’t make “Locavorism” an issue of righteousness, but rather an issue of safety. This all hinges on the next point of his that I will write about tomorrow: the need to re-invest in farming as a skilled profession. Thomas Jefferson envisioned the United States as a nation of small farms, and we need to make that vision a reality once again.

So my response to this: Amen to that! I think that Pollan hits the nail on the head when he considers local eating an issue of safety. But also, I would like to add something that Pollan leaves out of his article. Regionalizing farming and our food supply will not only make this country a safer place, but also a more communal place to live. I am not saying that everyone needs to have a twenty minute conversation with the farmers at the farmers' markets (as I admittedly do), but to have people across the nation actually know what farm their food is coming from is a huge step toward people being more conscious about the way they eat. The same way that many people are loyal to their local high schools, why cant people be loyal to their local farms? Maybe that vision is idealistic, but it is just a thought. I see regionalized farming as new way to build better communities across the country, and not to mention such a boon for creating more jobs.

But on that note, I will stop for tonight before moving on tomorrow to the issue of re-investing in the profession of farming.

Michael Pollan's "Farmer in Chief"--Keep the discussion rolling

2008-11-01T22:22:00.005-05:00

I know that I said I was going to post my response to Michael Pollan’s newest article about two weeks ago, and I am not going to make any excuses other than me being a slacker on my blog lately. I thought to myself this evening, "Hmmm maybe now talking about MP’s new article is not timely anymore," but then I told myself, “Heck yeah this is still timely!” What Pollan has to say about the industrial food system needs to be brought to public attention again and again. There is always a buzz when he brings out a new book or article, and everyone talks about it like mad, but then the discussion is put to the back burner until he writes again. Especially now, the media (and everyone else) is caught up worrying about the economy, and rightfully so. However, I think it is crucial for people to remember that food, health, and the economy are intricately tied together, and Michael Pollan reminds us of this. So, although I am two weeks behind the game in posting this, I will pretend that I delayed my post on purpose so that I can do my part in keeping the food discussion rolling.

So, Michael Pollan speaks out again. In his newest article, Farmer in Chief, which appeared in The New York Times Magazine Food Issue, Pollan writes an open letter to our future president, warning of the issues he is sure to face in coming years regarding the American industrial food system. Pollan’s article really says nothing conceptually new if you are already a follower of his writing; basically, it’s really a condensed version of The Omnivore’s Dilemma and In Defense of Food put together. However, I think it's actually quite amazing how clearly he articulates, point by point, steps to be taken in order to fix the food, energy, health, and (some of the) national security problems we face today. I truly admire Michael Pollan’s writing because he is so succinct and so to the point. He draws on such a wealth of research and knowledge but remains accessible to his readers, who (like me) are by no means experts in the science that he refers to.

Pollan draws from nutritional science, sociology, psychology, philosophy, biology, botany, genetics, and still many more complex fields to drive home his main point: the root of the problems surrounding our food system stems from its dependence on fossil fuels. He sums up his argument so well when he states, “We need to wean the American food system off its heavy 20th century diet of fossil fuel and put it back on a diet of contemporary sunshine.” He goes on to say, “Most of the problems our food system faces today are because of its reliance on fossil fuels, and to the extent that our policies wring the oil out of the system and replace it with the energy of the sun, those policies will simultaneously improve the state of our health, our environment, and our security.”

The article is lengthy and dense, but there is no fluff. Pollan packs a whopping load of information into the nine-page piece. For the most part, the policies and changes that he suggests are completely realistic and almost make you think, “Duh, that is so simple.” My only criticism of the article comes toward the end; I think he gets a little too idealistic when he recommends that all food items should have a bar code, that when scanned with your cell phone, would show all the information of how that product was made, what ingredients were in it, etc. He states, “in the case of crops, images of the farm and lists of the agrochemicals used in its production; in the case of meat and dairy, descriptions of the animals’ diets and drug regimen, as well as live video feeds of the CAFO where they live and, yes, the slaughterhouse where they die.” While I think that the idea is admirable, and would be great in a perfect world, the likelihood that this would happen seems slim to be sure. And while I have no problem with being idealistic, I just think that this point of his seems to be out of character with all the other very practical solutions that he offers.

The article is far too long and dense for me to go through it point by point. Because of this, I sincerely recommend that you read it. For the purposes of this response, I have chosen four points made in Pollan’s article that I would like to address: food as an issue of national security; the need to re-invest in the profession of skilled farming; making food a part of public school education; and the ecological preservation of farmland. However, in the process of me writing this response, I am coming to realize that even addressing just these four points is far too long for one blog post. So for tonight, I leave you with this introduction, and the coming days, I will address each of these four points in separate posts. And this way I can keep the food discussion rolling even longer!

And finally, I leave you with a few cool photos (because it is fall and beautiful outside, and because I don't have a photo of Michael Pollan).

(The photos of the dog and the pumpkin were taken by my good friend Ceecee; the leaves, well that not very exciting, yet still pretty picture, was taken by yours truly.)

Food Language: Literally Local??

2008-10-18T21:16:00.005-05:00

I am making my way through the New York Times Magazine Food Issue from last week and was particularly entertained by William Safire’s piece on the vocabulary of food trends. You may know that “locavor” was the Oxford American Dictionary’s word of the year. Mr. Safire explains how the term was born, and tells of the offshoots now being used. However, what I find particularly interesting about his piece is the opening vignette he tells of his quest to find out if his store bought orange juice really was “home squeezed” as it said on the box. He called the company and asked the product manager, “In whose ‘home’ had my orange juice been squeezed?” to which the rep answered, “When you squeeze oranges at home, you get more pulp. We use ‘home squeezed’ to differentiate between our pulpy product and our nonpulp juice.” Thus, “home squeezed,” to the Florida Orange Juice company actually means, “tastes as if it was squeezed at home,” but they fail to explain THAT anywhere on the box. So basically, using the term “home squeezed” is a marketing ploy to touch one’s sentiment and one’s desire to eat food close to home.

Ha! I thought this was really funny. The “locavore” trend is everywhere, even in big industry now. The other day I walked into the Treasure Island grocery store in Hyde Park where they were selling, “Local Green Bell Peppers”. There was no mention as to where these “local” bell peppers came from, nor was there anywhere in the store that explained the store’s definition of “local”. All that I can think is that the managers at Treasure Island define “local” as “on planet Earth” because each pepper had a little sticker on it that read, “M&R Company U.S.A.” Something tells me that the little farm in Indiana does not put plastic stickers on their peppers, and they are not called “M&R Company”.

Anyway, Safire’s point is that there is such a bizarre and extensive lexicography around food trends. It’s a great piece to boot; I recommend you read it. Anyway, more on the NYT Food Issue later. My response to Michael Pollan’s article will be up in coming days. For now, check out this brilliant cartoon by Bruce Eric Kaplan; the same one Safire references in his article.

"Local" grapefruits growing in my parents backyard. Key ingredient to the infamous, KLB "Local" Grapefruit Margarita.

Serious Announcement (wink wink)...

2008-10-17T12:03:00.002-05:00

Veteran Pillsbury spokesman Pop N. Fresh died Wednesday of a severe yeast infection. He was 71.

He was buried Friday in one of the biggest funerals in years. Dozens of celebrities turned out including Mrs. Butterworth, the California Raisins, Hungry Jack, Betty Crocker, and the Hostess Twinkies.

The graveside was piled high with flours, as longtime friend Aunt Jemima delivered the eulogy, describing Fresh as a man who "never knew he was kneaded".

Fresh rose quickly in show business, but his later life was filled with turnovers. He was not considered a smart cookie, and wasted much of his dough on half-baked schemes.

Still, even as a crusty old man, he was a roll model to millions. Fresh is survived by his second wife. They had two children, and one in the oven.

The funeral was at 3:50 for 20 minutes.

***Ben found this and passed it along to me this morning. I thought that it was too fantastic, and just had to re-post it here on my blog. I don't know who wrote it, but whomever you are, you are to be commended. You would make Mark Morton (who I consider to be a food pun master) very proud.

Bacon Cupcakes and Crusty Bread

2008-10-13T22:31:00.005-05:00

Short update:

1) I have had BACON on the brain as of lately. As part of some highly necessary research for my new job, I forayed into MORE, Chicago's newest cupcake bakery. I originally went into the bakery to say hello to the chef I interviewed for my story, but I walked out of MORE with a free Maple Bacon cupcake in tow. Half an hour later I was home; I poured myself a glass of buttery chardonnay, put Van Morrison on the record player, and enjoyed a lovely dinner of my Bacon Maple cupcake (What?! There is protein in bacon, and the flour is a grain, and there must be nutritional value in maple--it is from a tree after all). Complete with my glass of wine, I think that it was a perfectly balanced meal. Well, if not perfectly balanced, at least it was delicious.

The cupcake is a brown sugar cake with bacon bits mixed into the batter. It's topped with maple butter-cream frosting and garnished with a piece of candied bacon. The maple and bacon flavors mix marvelously--think pancakes with maple syrup and bacon for breakfast. It sounds weird, I know, but trust me...it works.

MORE is gorgeous. You walk in and it looks like a jewelry store. It is stark white with a big glass counter showcasing rows and rows of cupcakes lit perfectly by halogen lights. Unlike most other cupcakeries (I might have just made that word up), MORE is taking the plunge into savory cupcake flavors. At the moment they are playing with flavors like a BLT cupcake, a brie and red wine cupcake, a baked potato cupcake, a BBQ pineapple bacon cupcake, and an apple bacon cinnamon cupcake. They also, of course, have the classics--red velvet, chocolate, vanilla, and other more exotic sweet flavors like salted caramel and the bacon maple. I felt obligated to write about my bacon maple cupcake experience and post some pictures because it was just so good.

2) I baked bread! Ok, so this was a big hurdle for me. About 4 years ago I baked my first loaf of bread from scratch. It turned out perfect and beautiful--a whole wheat seed loaf with orange zest. Since that first loaf, every other attempt of mine at bread baking has been disastrous. My hot cross buns were like little cinnamon-raisin rocks, my whole wheat rustic loaf looked looked like a deflated football, and my a rye bread...well, let's just say that it was closer to ry-vita crackers than rye bread. I don't know what I was doing, but none of my breads would rise properly, no matter how close I followed the recipe.

So this past weekend I attempted Mark Bittman's recipe for No Kneed Bread, and it worked like gem. It worked so well that my second loaf is rising this very moment. My loaf turned out with a dense, earth-shattering crackly crust and a light, chewy, delicious interior. Seriously, it looked like I bought this loaf at an artisan bakery. I was so proud of myself. The recipe is genius...mix the flour, salt, and yeast; next add the water and mix into a shaggy sticky ball of dough; cover your bowl with plastic wrap and let sit for 18 hours. The next day, the dough is shaped and let sit for a second rise (only 2 hours this time), and then baked in a cast iron pot in a 450 degree oven. The cast iron pot (with the lid on) is key to the amazing crust.

I am making my second loaf (the one rising as we speak) with a higher protein bread flour as opposed to all-purpose flour, so we'll see how it turns out.

Anyway, sorry for the rather mundane and non-cerebral post. I will post tomorrow with my thoughts and response to Michael Pollan's new article in this weeks New York Times Magazine. If you have not read it yet, I highly recommend that you do. Pollan's work is incredible and probably some of the most inspirational writing for me, as an aspiring food journalist. Mark Bittman's piece , on why we should take food seriously, is great as well. Oh, and the pie blog will be updated again soon as well. I am running into some hurdles with having very limited kitchen equipment for the time being, but pies will be coming out of the oven in short order.

An Update and Announcement: No more pie at this location...

2008-10-08T22:19:00.005-05:00

OK, this is to say that I will not post about pies any more on this blog, because....

I have started a whole new blog, all about pie!!! So check it out...

www.pieperweek.com

My new blog, Pie Per Week, will only be about all things pie and pie related. So all my food pondering and rants, as well as general life pondering and rants...basically, "discussion of the everyday," will continue to be on here.

Hope you like the pie blog. Lemme know what you think, feedback is much appreciated.

An Open Letter To Oatmeal

2008-10-07T10:33:00.005-05:00

Dear Oatmeal,

Many people think that you are boring and tasteless, goopy and soggy, or lumpy and gross, but I beg to differ. I remember the first time I ate you as an adult. I am sure that my mother made you for me as a kid, but I don't really remember eating you that often in my childhood. I was more of a cream of wheat kid, but oh how you converted me.

My first encounter with you was when I was in Cape Town, South Africa. I was at my aunts house on a dreary August morning (yes, August is the middle of winter in South Africa). In South Africa, people decided that it is not a good idea to heat their houses, even though it is forty-degrees outside in the winter. Because it was damp and rainy and forty-degrees outside, it was freezing inside when I woke up. I had been feeling sick and nauseous all week, but my aunt insisted that I eat breakfast.

Oh Oatmeal, in South Africa you do not come the iconic navy blue cylinder container printed with the picture of the guy wearing a funny hat. No, South Africans don't really know what Quakers are, and they really do not associate Quakers with oats and granola bars. Rather you are in that distinctly rectangular green and red box with a picture of a tiger on the front--"Jungle Oats" is printed at the top in bold yellow print. Ah, Jungle Oats, how you warmed my tummy and my soul on that dreary August morning.

Oatmeal, compared to all those other over-sugary or cardboard-tasting cold cereals, you are a God-send. You keep me full and satisfied until lunch time. Depending on my mood, I can dress you up in so many ways, and I have gone through many phases in how I like to eat you. First, I liked to stir in vanilla extract when I pulled you off the stove, before pouring you into my bowl. I was careful not to add the vanilla in while you were cooking, because that would just be a waste of good vanilla--it would all boil away while you bubbled happily over the flame. But just a dash of vanilla right before you are served lifts my spirits on a winter morning. Next, I tried vanilla and cinnamon. Ah, sweet spices with your lovely oaty flavor--delicious.

Some mornings I add sliced banana to my bowl before I pour you on top. Then it is like eating yogurt with fruit on the bottom--creamy deliciousness with sweet treasures at the bottom of my bowl. If I am in a decadent mood, I will add some chocolate chips to you as well. Oh how amazing you taste with smooth, melting dark chocolate morsels.

In the fall, apples became bountiful. I remember the first time I chopped up a Golden Delicious apple and dropped it into the pot while you were cooking. Then I added a touch of cinnamon and a pinch of nutmeg, and as I pulled you off the stove, a dash of vanilla went into the pot. That morning, I could have closed my eyes and thought I was eating apple pie for breakfast.

During the spring, fresh strawberries start to appear at the farmers' market. Sliced thinly I place them at the bottom of my bowl and pour you on top. I remember I was feeling particularly decadent one morning, so a big dollop of freshly whipped cream went of top of you...and then I drizzled you all over with a little maple syrup. The cream started to slightly melt into you, and the strawberries and maple syrup added the perfect sweetness on a early spring morning.

In summer, fresh raspberries are bountiful. Their brilliant red color blends into you as the fragile berries break under the weight of my spoon. Along with a glass of iced coffee or tea, their vibrant tartness is the perfect kick added to you to start my summer day. I know that you are warm and gooey, thus people often only associate you with cold months, but even on a summer's morning, I crave your silkiness on my tongue. You just need to be dressed for the appropriate month, thus tart berries in the summer is your perfect accompaniment.

But some mornings I just crave your pure oat flavor. So on these mornings, I leave you to bubble happily while I make my tea. I pour you into my bowl and simply add a dash of milk, and perhaps a drizzle of farmers' market honey, but more often than not, I will just have you plain. Oh oatmeal, you make breakfast my favorite meal of the day. You may not be exciting or exotic. You may be the the butt of every breakfast joke, but you are consistent, and cheap, and healthy, and oh so very very delicious! Thank you oatmeal, for making my mornings complete. And during this time of economic crises, when those over processed, over sugary cereals are $4.75 a box, thank you for being 79¢ a pound. You continue to amaze me.

Sincerely your biggest fan,
--melissa

New Neighborhood Merits: Music and Vegetables

2008-09-28T18:14:00.006-05:00

Today is a lazy Sunday. It's one of those overcast days when the thought of laying on my couch and listening to old blues music seems so much more appealing than doing one of the hundreds of little boring things that I should be doing, like re-registering to vote in Illinois and hanging the medicine cabinet I bought for my bathroom. I can do those tomorrow.

However, on this lazy Sunday I have been thinking about one of the many merits of my new neighborhood: the record store down the street. Reckless Records is fantastic. I was a little skeptical when I first went in after reading some reviews on the internet that the guys who work there are, "music snobs." However, I have spoken to several of the guys there one multiple occasions, and they could not have been nicer. I don't think they are snobs; I think they just have good taste (and firm opinions) in music. The store sells CD's and a small selection of DVD's at the back, but the middle of the store (and the most floor space) is devoted to vinyl. They have an awesome selection of blues and old rock n' roll, as well as a great variety of new music, including a lot of albums on smaller labels. (I found the Jason Molina's album Pyramid Electric Company that was only put out on vinyl, and unavailable on Amazon or any other internet site I checked.)

So on this lazy Sunday, I am appreciating one of my newest finds at Reckless: an LP of America's Roots Musical. It is a fantastic compilation of old blues singers including Little Walker, Bo Diddley, Howlin' Wolf, Chuck Berry, Elmore James, Muddy Waters, John Lee Hooker, Memphis Slim, and Sonny Boy Williamson. It is awesome. The best $3.99 I have spent in a long time.

So why I am talking about music and record stores as opposed to food? (There is a connection I tell you.) Another merit of my new neighborhood is being very close to the famous Chicago Green City Farmer's Market. This market is Chicago's equivalent of San Francisco's Ferry Plaza Farmers' Market--its trendy and the who's-who of Chicago yuppies all shop there and start off conversations with, "Yes, I only buy my produce from Green City Market." On Saturday morning around 11:00 am the place is jam packed full of Lincoln Park thirty-something mom's in Lululemon yoga gear, holding a Starbuck's non-fat sugar-free pumpkin spiced latte, and pushing their two-year old child in a Bugaboo stroller. (Sorry, they only kind of annoy me. The strollers seriously get way and take up all the room in front of the booths.) Therefore, the key to Green City farmers' market is to get there at 7:00 am when it starts.

So here is the connection between the record store in my neighborhood and the farmers' market. Both Reckless Records and Green City farmers' market have been railed in online reviews for being full of "music snobs," or "food snobs," or "hipsters" (in the case of Reckless) or "yuppies" (in the case of Green City). Now, while in Reckless I did have to elbow my way past several nineteen year old guys wearing tighter jeans that I, Ray Ban style sunglasses with florescent pink sides, and their fixed gear bikes chained up outside (aka, the hipsters), but these guys were not the ones working at Reckless. They were merely the patrons of the store. At the farmers' market I had to nudge my way past the hoards of strollers, but once again the yuppies were not selling the produce, they were just the patrons of the market. The farmers at Green City are so incredible friendly, helpful, and down to earth. They are not "food snobs," they just have good taste, and firm opinions on food.

Both farmers' markets and independent music stores are super trendy at the moment. They are both "cool" places to be, be seen, and talk about going to. Whenever the coolness factor comes into play, you start to get cynics railing against the trend, and I can be guilty of this. Yes, the yuppies in the strollers are annoying, but if they are shopping at the market and supporting local farmers and learning by proxy about seasonal eating and organic/pesticide free small scale farming, isn't that good? The same with the hipsters. Yes, they are annoying, and I wish that they would take a shower and wear pants that left a little more to the imagination, but if they are in great record stores speaking to a knowledgeable staff and expanding their horizons on some amazing music, isn't that better than them blindly listening the vast amounts of terrible hip-hop and rap that is clogging up the radio? I think so.

As I alluded to in my post earlier on Gardening for Yuppies, I tend to find myself forming harsh opinions of those blindly following a new trend. However, if that trend is a good one--good for the earth, good for workers, good for artists, good the population as a whole--why should I be complaining? I really shouldn't. If hybrid cars became far more trendy than SUV's everywhere across America, we would be far more along in reducing our dependency on fossil fuels. If stores like Reckless and farmers' markets continue to become the norm rather than the exception, I think that our neighborhoods will be much more friendly places. I have to not be selfish and keep great things like farmers' markets and local record stores to myself--I just have to get there early, before the yuppies and hipsters arrive.

After Thesis Celebration Pie...and a giant rat

2008-09-27T22:03:00.005-05:00

I am back after a hiatus of lugging boxes up three flights of stairs, freaking out (just a little) about leaky windows (during Chicago's worst rain in 137 years), learning how to find studs in the wall, and being very angry with AT&T for two hours while trying to set up wireless internet. But all that is over, and I am all moved in to my new house, which I hope is my last change of address for a long while.

However, I must report that there has only been one pie to speak of in the past month. This is due to two reasons. First, I have just been incredibly busy, living out of boxes, and driving across the city far too many times. Second, even if I wanted to bake another pie as soon as I moved into my new house, I sadly cannot as my kitchen equipment has not arrived from California yet, and it is not due to arrive for another three weeks. While living at Erin's house, I had full use of her mixing bowls, but at the moment I am making due with one small frying pan which is difficult to mix any sort of pie filling in.

However, just before I moved I baked what I named, "After Thesis Celebration Pie". My friend and summer roomie, Erin, has had quite the uphill battle with her masters thesis. After struggling to get her hands on the data set she was approved to use many months ago, she was finally able to finish the first draft of her thesis a couple weeks ago. This momentous occasions called for a bonfire out at The Point, including grilled sandwiches made in Colman's pie irons, decadent s'mores (made with Reeses peanut butter cups and York peppermint patties), and of course...the most ridiculous over the top pie...ever.

After Thesis Celebration Pie had to be over the top to properly celebrate Erin's feat over the great data set, and the farmers' market was brimming with fresh picked apples. However, After Thesis Celebration Pie could not just be a boring apple pie...no, it must have caramel and nuts as well...lots of caramel, and lots of nuts.

So, after making the pastry for just a single crust, I cut ten Kraft caramel squares into four pieces each and placed them at the bottom of the pastry. I then mixed the apple filling. I used three different types of apples: Golden Delicious, Gala, and Macintosh, all peeled, cored, and sliced into eighth inch slices. I then mixed the apples with brown sugar, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, lemon zest, almond extract, vanilla extract, and a pinch of cloves, and a healthy does of corn starch. I poured the apple filling into the shell (on top of the caramel pieces) and baked this for about half and hour.

Meanwhile, I made the topping. One stick of butter, a half cup of chopped pecans, a half cup of chopped hazelnuts, a half cup of sugar, and a half cup of flour were all cut together until well blended. When the pie was done with the initial baking, I pulled it out of the oven and spread my nut-crumb mixture on top, and placed it back in the oven to bake for another 45 minutes.

In the meantime, I prepared...yes, more caramel...and more nuts. I melted 30 Kraft caramel squares with three-quarters of a stick of butter over the stove. Once the caramel was melted, I added some almond and vanilla extract, and let it cool slightly. When the pie was done baking, I poured the caramel all over the top of the pie and then topped the caramel with pecan halves and whole hazelnuts. Then I melted ten more caramels with another knob of butter (and added vanilla and hazelnut extract again) and drizzled this caramel over the top. I told you, this pie was ridiculous.

(Due to the very brown colors of this pie, it was particularly difficult to photograph. Every picture I took made the pie look more like a pie-plate full of regurgitated cat food as opposed to a pie, so these photos are the best of the bunch. Already, my food photography skills are pretty bad, but this pie in particular does not look as appetizing in the photo as it did in real life.)

Essentially, the pie ended up being two desserts in one--apple pie on the bottom and caramel nut torte on the top. Oh, and don't forget that there was an entire layer of caramel underneath the apples as well.

The pie was excellent, so excellent in fact that I had to fend off a giant rat that attempted to eat the pie. We were sitting around the bonfire clutching our stomachs full of s'mores and pie, when I looked over to see a giant rat attempting to get his grubby little hands on the uneaten half of the After Thesis Celebrate Pie. Luckily, I had thought to wrap the left over pie in a plastic bag so the pie was never touched by the rat, but I did scream and hurl myself into the defense of the pie. My friend Charlie commented that if I am as attentive to my future children as I am to my pies, I will be a very good mother--thanks Charlie.

After Thesis Pie was also delicious cold the next day, and luckily untainted by dirty rat paws. Unfortunately, it may be a while longer until my next pie update. However, for now I have some other things that I would like to write about, but they will have to wait for the next few days in attempt to not write a monstrous blog post.

So, for now, I will enjoy my finally working wireless internet and my beautiful new clean kitchen. Oh and yea, I promise I will be more regular about posting...much to come...

I have been away for a while...But what foodie holiday were YOU born on?

2008-09-14T09:15:00.004-05:00

OK, so I have not been posting very regularly here, and I intend to change that. There is much that I need to write. However, I am in the process of moving at the moment and things are quite hectic. So I promise that once I am all moved, and settled, there will be much more to actually read on here. Give me a week or so.

However, in the mean time, I thought that I would share this website so that you can find out what foodie holiday you were born on!

It turns out that I was born on the Animal Crackers birthday...hmmm not very exciting in my opinion, but I will take what I can get. If I was born on April 21st, I would have a birthday on National Chocolate-Covered Cashew Truffle Day! That would be cool. But unfortunately, my birthday is not April 21st, so I will have to settle for Animal Crackers.

Anyway, hope you find the website entertaining in the meantime. I'll be back in a week...

The Omnivore's Hundred

2008-09-06T17:07:00.003-05:00

So I was "surfing the net," (as they say) and catching up on many of my other favorite foodie blogs, and I came across this list. It was rather refreshing actually, because just before I came across this I was thinking to myself that if I see ONE MORE blog about vegan or fat-free cooking, I am going to go nuts. Now, I feel kind of bad saying that, because I actually love vegan cooking, and there are many many amazing vegan food blogs out there. However, I will need another few blog posts to fully express my views about the current trendiness of veganism, but for now, I will leave by saying that I have some opinions on the matter. And I will add that I am unabashedly an Omnivore--I love plants, but I also love meat. So, this list is a list of 100 foods that every omnivore should try in his or her lifetime. I have copied the instructions here too, in case anyone else wants to do this little exercise as well. Lets see how I do....

PS...if anyone readying my blog here decided to do this, post a comment on this post with a link back to your results...

Here is the link to the original list:
http://www.verygoodtaste.co.uk/uncategorised/the-omnivores-hundred/

And here are the instructions:

Here’s a chance for a little interactivity for all the bloggers out there. Below is a list of 100 things that every good omnivore should have tried at least once in their life. The list includes fine food, strange food, everyday food and even some pretty bad food - but a good omnivore should really try it all. Don’t worry if you haven’t, mind you; neither have I, though I’ll be sure to work on it. Don’t worry if you don’t recognise everything in the hundred, either; Wikipedia has the answers.

Here’s what I want you to do:

1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.
2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.
3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.
4) Optional extra: Post a comment here at www.verygoodtaste.co.uk linking to your results.

The VGT Omnivore’s Hundred:

1. Venison--Delicious! If it is on the menu, I will most likely order it. If you are ever in South Africa, springbok or kudu venison is AMAZING.

2. Nettle tea--At Chez Panisse Café

3. Huevos rancheros--But of course.

4. Steak tartare--not yet, although I have had carpaccio many times, including ostrich carpaccio. I feel like that is the same family...raw meat and all

5. Crocodile--No, but I have eaten alligator tail, and it did taste like chicken.

6. Black pudding--No, but I will be in the UK over Christmas this year and plan to try it. I turned my nose at it many a time when I was younger.

7. Cheese fondue--Cheese may be one of my favorite pastimes, so yes, of course.

8. Carp--Hmmm, I am not sure. Not that I can remember

9. Borscht--I made it this summer with some fresh beets from the farmers' market. I added shredded dill pickle into it, which was delicious.

10. Baba ghanoush--One of my favorites. I actually prefer it to hummus, but it is quite hard to come across GOOD baba ghanoush. I think the secret is to roast your eggplants over an open flame to get that wonderful smokey flavor.

11. Calamari--Yes, the first time I ate it I was seven. At the time I insisted that I hated everything that came from the ocean. I did not know what I was eating, but I liked it. When my dad told me what it was I almost threw up. It took me many years to try it again, but I did, and I have never turned back.

12. Pho---Mmmmmm, ultimate comfort food. I love anything with noodles. I must admit though, that I have not been bold enough to try the pho with tripe and intestines, but I will someday.

13. PB&J sandwich--Are you joking? Who has not? Well, I suppose if you are not from the U.S. there is a good chance that you have not. Although I did grow up in the U.S., with a South African mother I became accustomed to Marmite sandwiches, and I actually would take a Marmite sandwich over a PB&J any day.

14. Aloo gobi--Yes, I am a fan of anything curry, and anything cauliflower.

15. Hot dog from a street cart--Yep, that was my number one goal for going to New York City. Screw the Yankees, the Empire State Building, and Central Park. I was there for the hot dogs, pizza, and the MET (what a combination).

16. Epoisses--Sadly no, I don't think that you can get it here in America, and I have yet to go to France. I will someday though.

17. Black truffle--Ahhh yes. Shaved on top of a fillet Mignon...one word: heaven.

18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes--Apple wine last fall. It was not that good. I prefer hard apple cider.

19. Steamed pork buns--Yep! Delicious!

20. Pistachio ice cream--One of my favorite flavors.

21. Heirloom tomatoes--Heaven. I had the opportunity to go an Heirloom tomato festival last summer at Kendall Jackson Winery in Sonoma, CA. I had an heirloom tomato sundae! It was bacon ice cream topped with lettuce whipped cream, an heirloom tomato sauce and then sprinkled with bread crumbs. It was delicious, but a little confusing because I was not sure if I was eating lunch or dessert.

22. Fresh wild berries--Berry picking is an activity everyone should do at least once in their lives. Your fingers are stained, your tongue is purple, and your tummy is full...for every berry you pick one goes in your mouth.

23. Foie gras--A guilty pleasure...It tastes so wonderful, especially on freshly made brioche toasts.

24. Rice and beans--I grew on up them. A dinner of rice and beans is proof that good food does not have to be expensive.

25. Brawn, or head cheese--Yep, and I can't say that I liked it.

26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper--What!?!? No! Not raw! I have had a cooked one though.

27. Dulce de leche--Heaven

28. Oysters--Yep. My dear childhood friend Charlie Johnson gave me my first oyster. He caught them that afternoon at Avila Beach (a beach near my hometown in CA) and brought them over to my house. A little lemon juice and a little hot sauce and down the hatch! He told me that it would make me horny...hmmmm I was not convinced.

29. Baklava--Perhaps one of my favorite desserts in the world.

30. Bagna cauda--No, one day when I am in Italy I will, and I will relish every bite.

31. Wasabi peas--Yep, yep.

32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl--A specialty in my hometown at the infamous Splash Café. To tell you the truth, I am not really a fan of clam chowder. I would rather have Manhattan style clam chowder or corn chowder. The sourdough bread bowl however, now that is a good thing.

33. Salted lassi--Hmmm, I am not sure what this is. I have had lassi before, the Indian yogurt drink, which is delicious, but I am not sure what a "Salted Lassi," is.

34. Sauerkraut--With good sausage, spicy mustard, and a frothy beer...its pretty hard to beat.

35. Root beer float--Ahhh, childhood memories. It must have a cherry on top.

36. Cognac with a fat cigar--Hehe, yea I have. Thanks Dad!

37. Clotted cream tea--At the Orangery in London. Proper civilized tea with the snootiest waiters in England. (It was delish though!)

38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O--Ahhh! Yes, for the first time this past January. I had five before I realized that they are not PART vodka...they are ALL vodka. The next morning was not fun.

39. Gumbo--Mmmmm, Southerners do food right.

40. Oxtail--A specialty of my Aunt's in South Africa.

41. Curried goat--Yep! On Devon Avenue this past winter.

42. Whole insects--No, I am reluctant to say that I will not try them, because I think that if it was in front of me, I would have to try it. However, the thought is not appetizing.

43. Phaal--Yep, at Bukara in Capetown. SPICY!

44. Goat’s milk--Love it. Especially goat's yogurt.

45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more--Yep, did not know it at the time. I had a glass at a little Scottish pub here in Chicago. I wrote the name down so that I could go and look for it at the liquor store. I found it, but saw that the price on the tag was $130! I decided that Single Malt is far too expensive of a habit for me.

46. Fugu--Nope, not yet

47. Chicken tikka masala--My brother insists on ordering this dish whenever we go to Indian food. He is not into trying new things. If he likes it, he will get it, over and over and over again.

48. Eel--Just had unagi sushi for lunch yesterday

49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut--Yep, but I can't say that I am that huge of a Krispy Kreme fan. I don't get what all the fuss is about.

50. Sea urchin--Hmmmm, no. I don't think so. Not that I can remember.

51. Prickly pear--Yep, I will never forget Liz Johnson's famous prickly pear salad. I was about nine when she made it. Getting me to eat salad at all at that age was feat to be had, let alone prickly pear salad. However, under the threat of death (which is very scary coming from Liz) I tried it, and I did not like it. But I did not like any salad at that age. If she made it again today I am sure that I would like it.

52. Umeboshi--Nope, maybe one day I will get to Japan and try these foods.

53. Abalone--Ah yes. I was very lucky. My dad's dear friend Don Tally flew up to Northern California and went abalone fishing (?? I am not sure if the term is to fish or forage for abalone). He flew back that afternoon and invited us for dinner. They were pounded thin, breaded and fried, and they melted in your mouth like butter.

54. Paneer--Did I not say that cheese, any kind of cheese, is one of my favorite pastimes??

55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal--Yep. One word: Gross.

56. Spaetzle--Ahhh Gesine, my German second mother, I still dream of your Spaetzle.

57. Dirty gin martini--My standard cocktail.

58. Beer above 8% ABV--Yep, yep. The Belgians do it right.

59. Poutine--Nope, but I suspect I will someday.

60. Carob chips--Yep. Gross. There is no replacement for chocolate.

61. S’mores--Nothing like 'em. There are nights when I have cravings and roast marshmallows over the flame on the stove.

62. Sweetbreads--Who knew that organs could taste so good?!

63. Kaolin--No, and I don't know what this is.

64. Currywurst--No, I will get to Germany eventually...

65. Durian--No, but when I lived in Berkeley they had it at the Berkeley Bowl. I considered getting it, but I was scared and didn't know what to do with it.

66. Frogs’ legs--No, another one on the to do list for when I get to France.

67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake--all delicious, delicious, delicious...with a healthy dusting of powdered sugar

68. Haggis--Nope, but this December I will be in Scotland and I think that Ben will make me try it.

69. Fried plantain--Those Cubans are onto something...sooo good!

70. Chitterlings, or andouillette--Well, I have had intestines as sausage casing. Does that count?

71. Gazpacho--A summer favorite.

72. Caviar and blini--No, but once again, I suspect I will someday :)

73. Louche absinthe--Yep! Just became legal here in the States and all my friends pitched in and bought me a bottle for my birthday...what pals.

74. Gjetost, or brunost--No, but would most definitely try it...I love cheese!

75. Roadkill--Gross! No! Hmmm, would I try it? Maybe if it was a chicken that I SAW get hit by a car, and then it was retrieved from the road and cooked right away.

76. Baijiu--Nope, but sure I would try it.

77. Hostess Fruit Pie--Haha, no I have not actually. Why have a hostess fruit pie when I bake a pie once a week?!?!

78. Snail--Yep. Trader Joe's started to sell frozen escargot when I worked there in college. It was not good. I think that when I get France eventually I will have the real thing and it will be good.

79. Lapsang souchong--Mmmhmm. One of my favorite afternoon teas.

80. Bellini--Yep! We just had a "Brunch for Dinner Party" complete with a Bellini bar and all.

81. Tom yum--One of my standards when I go out for Thai food.

82. Eggs Benedict--Eggs Benny...gotta love it!

83. Pocky--Haha! Strawberry was my favorite when I was little.

84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant.--Yep, I had the full nine yards at Charlie Trotter's for my twenty-fifth birthday.

85. Kobe beef--Yep, the Prince of Whales restaurant at the Hotel del Corondao when I graduated from college.

86. Hare--Yep. I think it tastes like super moist dark meat chicken.

87. Goulash--Ahhh Gesine, once again I dream of your cooking.

88. Flowers--Haha! Yep, I just ate all the flower garnishes off of our desserts at Fronterra Grill a few weeks ago. I was trying to convince my parents and Ben the whole time that they were edible and tasted like licorice. They were not convinced and thought that I was crazy.

89. Horse--No, I don't think so.

90. Criollo chocolate--Yep, paid $4.50 for a tiny chocolate. It was good though.

91. Spam--Yep, my roommate in Washington D.C. was Chinese Hawaiian. She made fried Spam sandwiches. When the stuff is fried, it is not bad. But hey, what is not good when fried?

92. Soft shell crab--Mmmmm, one thing I miss about living on the east coast.

93. Rose harissa--Nope, but I have had harissa, and I love anything with rose flavor, so it sounds delicious!

94. Catfish--Yep.

95. Mole poblano--So so GOOD! When I was in the Yucatan Peninsula we had mole almost everyday. That was the first time I had ever had it, and it surely was an enlightening experience.

96. Bagel and lox--Yep, I am not a huge fan though...I know, I am strange.

97. Lobster Thermidor--Nope. Once again, when in France...

98. Polenta--One of my staples. On a cold night there is no better dinner than a steaming bowl of polenta with a runny poached egg on top, sprinkled with Parmesan cheese.

99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee--Hmmm, no I don't think so.

100. Snake--Yea, I think that I was also forced to try this at the Johnson's house when I was younger.

Well, I have tried 73 out of 100. I don't think that is bad for being twenty-five years old! Well, I am off to make some pie pastry.

An Amazing Story

2008-09-02T12:36:00.002-05:00

This entry is not about food, but rather about life. I had a somewhat remarkable experience this morning while I was riding my bike along the lakefront.

I had just ridden onto the bike path and was going around the point down in Hyde Park. There were orange construction cones and mile markers set up like there was going to be a running race. As I was cycling around the point, another cyclist came up along side me and said, "Hey! Do you know if there is a running race going on here?" I told him that I did not know, but that I hoped not and that it seemed odd for there to be a race on a Tuesday morning. I asked if he had ridden from up north (the direction I was heading for my ride) and he said that he had, and that there was no race going on up there (which I was relieved to hear because I did not want to ride into a bunch of runners).

So we got to chatting and he asked me if I lived in Hyde Park and if I went to university there. I told him yes, that I had just graduated. He asked me the famous, "So now what are you going to do," question, and I told him that I was moving up to Lakeview and needed to find a job (really need to find a job--in a serious way). He said, "Oh I love Lakeview, I met my wife in Lakeview, but now we live in Lincoln Park. We are raising our kids there." He then said,

"You know, it is a miracle that one of my kids is alive."

I listened, and he proceeded to tell me this story:

His son complained of pain in his leg and had a high fever, so they took him to the hospital, but the doctors could not figure out what was wrong with him. All of his tests were coming back normal, and he did not appear to have a virus or any sort. However, the doctor was still weary, and just thought that something was not right, so decided to keep in the hospital overnight to monitor him. The next day, he had to be rushed into emergency surgery--his legs and arms had to split open in several places to release swelling, and his stomach was cut open, his intestines taken out and suspended above him on the operating table. The dad, his name is Scot, said that he watched and saw his son on the operating table all cut open, with his guts hanging in a bag above him, and completely blue from head to toe.

It turns out that Strep type A bacteria had gotten into his blood stream. The only reason the doctor knew what to do in time was that she had seen a case like this once before--however, the chances of this type of infection is extremely rare. After 4 surgeries they had to induce a coma and wait to see what would happen.

It seemed that they were able to clear the bacteria from his body and save his life, but it was not clear what the lasting effects would be. At first the doctors thought that they were going to have to amputate both of his legs, and then it seemed that maybe he was only going to loose one leg, and then it looked even better and seemed like he may just loose one foot. The surgeons went in and started to scrape away the dead tissue on his feet (which were all black) and could not believe it, but found that there was healthy tissue underneath. It turns out that all he lost was two toes and part of his heel.

At this point in the story I was completely stunned. Scot then turned his head to me and said, "I'm sorry, I feel like I have to tell you this because it is good for me to re-cap it because he just got home."

I then asked how old the little boy is. He told me that he and his wife have four children, an eight year old daughter and a five year old daughter. He and his wife decided to have a third child and ended up having twins, two little boys who are now four. The little boy is one of the twins. He then told me,

"You know, the doctors all thought that he had no chance to live. They are all amazed that he is alive today. They said that the only explanation is that there was a higher power looking out for him. My wife and I say that he may have lost two toes, but he taught so many people the value of life, love, and family. He brought so many people together."

At this point we had been riding together for about twenty minutes, and with that he said,

"Well, I have to spin off this way. It is my daughters' first day of school and I am going home to make them oatmeal and help them put on their first day of school dresses. It was great to talk to you, and good luck with everything!"

All that I could manage to say was, "Thanks! It was great to talk to you too!" I did not even have a chance to wish him luck or wish his son good health and a quick and safe recovery. As quickly as he came into my life he left, and I will probably never see him again. However, the story of this little boy has profoundly affected me and made me reflect on all the people that I love and all the things that I take for granted every day. I am astounded at how strong of a person Scot must be. I don't know if I would be able to see my child cut open on an operating table, blue, with his intestines suspended above him, and then make the decision to induce a coma in which there is no certainty that he would come out of. Scot told me all of this is the most upbeat and chipper way--not like he was unloading on me, but rather that he wanted to share with me the lesson that his little boy had taught so many other people. The lesson that life is precious and can be taken away at any second.

So I felt compelled to pass this story along--to tell the people I love, that I love them. This morning was one of those moments in life that was so random, but I feel like it was meant to happen...like I was meant to run into this guy and listen to his story. Life is funny and unexplainable that way--but I sure do appreciate it.

So now I am going to end this post and enjoy the summer day. Love, life and happiness to you all.

--melissa

Cuisine vs. Food: What is American Cuisine?

2008-08-30T21:16:00.005-05:00

If someone asked you, "What exactly is American cuisine?", what would your answer be? This question is something that I have been struggling with over the past few years. When we think of Japanese cuisine we thing of sushi, udon, ramen, and kobe beef with soy sauce and rice and seaweed. When we think of Italian cuisine, we think of pasta and different sauces. When we think of Mexican cuisine we think of beans, rice, and tortillas. Yes, these are all oversimplifications of each "cuisine" but the point I am making is that there are national dishes that somewhat define the food traditions of particular nations.

So, what is America's national dish? What is our national cuisine? Is it pizza?? How can it be when pizza is an import form Italy? Is it hamburgers and hot dogs? Once again, these are imports and variations of German dishes. The question of how to define American cuisine has stumped many food writers and academics alike. Sydney Mintz, perhaps the most well known anthropologist researching food, argues that America does not have a national cuisine. He claims that in a nation as big and diverse as the United States, it is almost impossible to have a cohesive food identity. Rather he argues that the US is comprised of areas of regional cuisines--think Southwestern, Creole, Southern Soul Food, New England food, and California Cuisine. I can see Mintz's point, but I also think that his outlook may be a little out of date, because now you can find each type of "regional" cuisine in almost any region of the country. I am not sure that the question of, "What is American cuisine" can ever be answered, but in asking this question the other day, I found myself pondering another question: What defines a "cuisine"?

Let me use Italy as an example. To mention, "Italian cuisine," is a bit of a misnomer. Italy has only been a unified nation for a fraction of time compared to how long "Italians" have been eating pasta. The food that you will find in the north of Italy (in regions like Piedmonte, Tuscany, Emilia-Romagna, and Venneto) is very different from what you will find in the south. Yet all this food is lumped together and known as "Italian cuisine," and I think this is an incorrect way to look at it. If Mintz looks at America as a nation of regional "cuisines" than Italy is certainly also a country of regional cuisines. By why do we think of "Italian cuisine" as one cohesive group of dishes? While there may be similarities in the foods across the nation of Italy, there are very different ways of eating these foods. Often it seems that the term "cuisine" is used interchangeably with the term "food," and so here I would like to tell you why I disagree--why I think there is a big difference between "food" and "cuisine".

James Beard once wrote, "The truth of the matter is that the way people eat is an unconscious reflection of the way people live." This statement, I believe, could not be more true, and I think it hits at the heart of what I believe a cuisine to be. That is, I consider "cuisine" to be not simply food, but a form of cultural expression through food. It is a form of cultural expression in the same way that music or dance are, just it is expressed through cooking and eating as opposed to body movement, rhythm, and syncopation. And through cuisine we not only tie people together, be we also pull others apart depending on their food preferences. We form community through cuisine--how we express ourselves though food--and we may exclude others from joining a particular community because of cuisine. Think of a vegan co-operative, or an Orthodox Jewish church, or a group of "locavores"--each one of these communities identifies with each other based on how they express themselves through food. They identify with each other through the similar ways that individuals eat, and they may stand in bafflement to those whose eat in a different way, with different cuisines. Therefore, "cuisine" is not just food, but rather is a system of foods and how people identify with them.

Cuisine can be clearly defined by a place of origin--often rooted in a particular nation or region. But cuisine can also be found in certain time periods (think medieval or colonial cuisine) or it can be rooted in a particular type of culture (think college student cuisine, or aspiring artist/writer/musician cuisine, or football fan cuisine, or sorority girl cuisine). Cuisine can be rooted in religion or belief system, or it can stem from political outlooks and views. Cuisines can blend into each other and are not always clearly defined, or they may be a combination of two or three different cuisines. You can see this same phenomena happening in music--look at the early pioneers of rock and roll music. Was their music blues, or country, or soul, or jazz, or something entirely new all together? Ultimately, I think that the term "cuisine" means more than just food, but rather means the big picture around food--the form of expression through food and cooking and how people use food and cooking and eating as a way of expressing identity, even if it is an unconscious or understated form of affiliation and identity.

So then I ask my question again, what is "American cuisine"? Sydney Mintz's theory that America is a nation of regional cuisines was a great way to look at it twenty years ago, but today I can get some pretty darn good fried chicken in northern California, and some darn fine gumbo in Minnesota, and some awesome "New York" cheesecake in Chicago. Do we have a system of food that defines all Americans, and that we can all identify with? I have some thoughts about this, but they are going to have to wait for another blog post. I need to ponder for a while longer. Rather I just wanted to pose this question to others. If you had a friend from a foreign country who had never been to America, what would you tell them is a quintessential American dish that they must try, and what makes that dish "American"?

Four Pies! Oh my it has been a while

2008-08-27T23:01:00.009-05:00

HELLOOOO!!! Well, I did not mean to be absent for this long, but a series of both fortunate and unfortunate events have kept me from blogging recently. So I suppose I will devote this post to a mini catch-up (or shall I say ketchup??) session over the past few weeks.

July 31st: I turned in the final draft of my master's thesis!! The title ended up being: "To Fetishize the Aura: The Ironies of Capitalist Marketing Schemes for Balsamic Vinegar in American Epicurean Culture." If you are so curious (I am not offended if you are not) here is my abstract:

"Today more so than ever, we live in a society dominated by commodity consumption. However, not all commodities in this capitalist culture are deemed equal. Certain commodities are marked or marketed as a certain kind of commodity with specific social or cultural significance and value, thus to write off all commodities as simply “fetishes” is overly simplistic. In an era with increasing concerns about the ills of crass materialism, industrialization, and over-consumption certain segments of American society are seeking ways to separate themselves from the culture of “millennial capitalism”--clearly demonstrated through social movements and trends around food, and namely an increased interest in eating and buying hand-made “artisanal” food products. In the midst of a growing opulent gourmet food culture in the United States, we can look at food as a form of material culture in which the marketing schemes for these products play on an ever-present anxiety about the nature of industrial food and therefore attempt to paint artisanal foods as certain types of commodities that are separate from the capitalist system by highlighting narratives of the time, place, and people who produced the product. However, this marketing scheme illuminates certain ironies in a culture of capitalist consumption."

So, the thesis is done, and I now officially have a master's degree, which is a little scary. It is scary in the way that I feel like I really need to face the real world now and make something of my life. However, I have decided not to face the real world until September 1 to give myself a mini summer vacation. But since finishing my thesis on July 31st, here is the rest of what I have been up to.

August 1st: Left for Minneapolis with Ben to visit his family for five days. This was not my first time in the Twin Cities, but it was my first visit to last longer than twenty-four hours. Also, I decided that a new pie was in order to express my gratitude for Ben's parents' gracious hospitality (plus, it had been a fortnight since my last pie, therefore it was time for a new and different creation). Because this pie was destined for an extra-special destination I decided that only a lattice topped pie would do (because I think they are the prettiest pies) and it had to showcase the farmers' market's freshest and ripest fruit of the moment--This meant berry pie. I was originally going to call this pie a quadruple berry pie, but I then learned that a cherry is actually not a berry, but rather a stone fruit, related to peaches, plums, and apricots (which does make sense, considering the pit in the middle). So I re-named my pie, "triple berry and cherry pie" (I think it has a nice ring to it). Thus far, it is my favorite fruit pie that I have made. The berries were so delicious--there is something about the mixture of berries that gives such a perfectly balanced favor of tart and sweet.

I made my normal pastry and filled the shell with blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, and dark sweet cherries--in about equal proportions. This time I used a quarter cup plus an few extra pinches of tapioca flour (to be sure that the filling was not runny like the last pie) and a half a cup of sugar. I tossed in a squeeze of lemon juice and the zest of the lemon before weaving the lattice on top. Here are the pictures...

I think that the pie turned out very well, and always, my favorite part is not just eating the pie, but rather enjoying it with wonderful company I am in. So, Rick and Mary, thank you again not just for helping me out as eaters in my pie-per-fornight project, but for your gracious hospitality.

But more about Minneapolis. I was so impressed! I highly recommend a visit, because it is such a wonderful city. We went to the farmers' market on Saturday morning and it was such a great market. There was not only great produce, but such a variety of cheeses, breads, honeys, meats, baked goods, flowers, and even clothing and jewelry. I bought three different types of honey to give to my mom as a birthday present which were amazing. I am a big fan of raw local honey (I know they are good because I got to sample them all--one of my favorite parts of farmers' markets). Also, all the farmers, producers, procurers, etc. were so friendly. I saw choke cherries for the first time, and the farmer let us sample one--man was it tart! But delicious. I could go on, but needless to say, I am a big fan of the Minneapolis farmers' market.

That afternoon Ben's parents took us to a local establishment called the Convention Grill for lunch. This places was great! It has been there since 1934 and the decor has not changed much. It really has an old fashioned, old town feel. Here is one review I found for it online, and I could not put it better myself:

"Here is the great American hamburger. Not the biggest or the best-dressed, not-stuffed with foie gras like the $100 oddities made by show-off chefs, not so lean it's dry nor so greasy it is unctuous, this is a thick, bun-sized patty sizzled to crusty perfection on an extremely well-oiled grill. It oozes juice and radiates beefy savor, and is especially good topped with a mantle of melted cheese and/or California style (with lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise)....On the side you want a malt. Huge and so thick that they must be spooned from their silver beaker because pouring is impossible"

I had a chicken sandwich (not a burger, but still delicious) and a honey malt. I can safely say that it was the best malt I have ever had. It had a decidedly honey flavor, and as I mentioned earlier, I am a huge fan of honey. Yea, this place was great. I keep hearing that Minneapolis has a great dining scene, so hopefully I will get back to explore it some more.

August 6th-10th: My parents visited from California. We ate at some great places including Fronterra Grill, Eleven City Diner, Piece (a pizza place with great thin crust pizza and amazing beer that they brew themselves), and Cafe Bolera (an awesome Cuban restaurant in Bucktown). However, the main reason why they came out was to go condo hunting. My dad bought a condo out here which I will rent from him. It was nice because I got to experience the real estate process without having to front the cash, which was a really interesting/draining/stressful experience. I was treking around the city for three weeks prior going to Minneapolis looking at places, thus also not conducive for me keeping this blog updated. We found a place in Lakeview, and I officially have a new place to live which I move into on September 12th if escrow goes smoothly. I am very exited about my new neighborbood--including the bar on the corner of my block that has one of the best tap selections in the city, and serves fried cheese curds (mmmmmmm...).

August 16th: I made two more pies for a pie and drinks party. This time I made Lemon Meringue Pie and a Malted Chocolate Pie. The Lemon Meringue is my great grandmother's recipe, which is the best Lemon Meringue I have ever had. My mom used to always make this recipe when I was growing up, but I had never made it myself. The filling uses condensed milk instead of cornstarch, so it is sweet and creamy and lemony. The other key is to use Meyer lemons as opposed to normal ones. Meyer lemons are very hard to find in the stores, so unless you know someone who has a Meyer lemon tree, it is unlikely that you will find them. Luckily, my parents brought me out a whole bag of them from their trees in CA. Meyer lemons are much sweeter--people are not really sure where they came from, but think that the tree may have been the result of a cross between a mandarin orange tree and a lemon tree.

The meringue was a little hard to get right because it was so humid outside when I was whipping the egg whites (especially as I did not have any cream of tarter) so it was not as fluffy of a meringue as I normally like, but it still tasted delicious. I made the pie in a graham cracker crust, which I must say I am getting excellent at making. I add a pinch of cinnamon, some nutmeg, vanilla and almond extract to the crumbs before pressing them into the pie plate. The almond extract is key...but just a touch.

The Malted Chocolate pie was also amazing--so incredibly rich and fudgy. For this pie I did a chocolate cookie crumb crust (I used Newman's own chocolate alphabet cookies)--just the cookie crumbs, butter and a little vanilla extract pressed into the pie shell. Then the filling is 8 oz. of melted chocolate mixed with a cup and a quarter of heavy cream and a half of a cup of chocolate malted milk powder. This is all heated up until the chocolate is melted and smooth and then left to cool until firmed up a little. Then I poured two thirds of the mixture into the pie shell and then refrigerated it until cold and set firm. Then I topped this filling with crushed malted milk balls. Next I whipped up 3/4 cups of heavy cream and folded in the remaining chocolate mixture and spread this over the filling and chilled until ready to serve. Ohhh man it was good. The bottom layer was thick and fudgy and the top layer was like chocolate silk. Both pies were a hit...

Here are pictures...

August 24th: My latest pie was Ben's request. I asked him what type of pie he wanted before he left for Russia for nine months, and he wanted Banana Cream Pie. So, I not only made Banana Cream Pie, but made "Over the Top, Banana Cream Pie". This pie was great--by far my favorite cream pie that I have made thus far. I started out making my delicious graham cracker crumb crust and then filled this with vanilla custard. To make the custard I whisked together 3/4 cup of sugar, 1/3 cup of corn starch, 3 egg yolks, and 3 cups of whole milk. I whisked this constantly in a sauce pan over medium heat until it cooked and thickened--about 7 minutes. I then added vanilla extract and poured it into the pie crust and put it in the fridge until chilled and set firm. Then I sliced three large ripe bananas and whipped up a cup of heavy whipping cream. After the custard was chilled I spread a thin layer of whipping cream over the custard, topped this with the sliced bananas, and then piled the rest of the whipped cream on top. The final touch was to crumble a Butterfinger candy bar on top--the perfect finale for an already awesome pie. Here are pictures...

So that leads me to today, and one final comment before I sign off. On my post about Gardening for Yuppies I received a comment from an former co-worker of mine, Russ. I found his comment to my quandaries about our relationship to food and the earth quite profound--I think that he hit the nail on the head. He said, "Perhaps the trouble you're having is not with your ambivalent feelings towards well-intended yet disconnected yuppies, but rather with the inability of Marxist criticism to deal with something so spiritual at its very core as the need to "connect with the earth."' I think that this is so true. One of the reasons I have decided to take a step back from academia is precisely for this reason...the inability of Marxist criticism to deal with many issues related to food--and not just Marxist criticism, but academic thought in general. I mentioned in an earlier post that I love to cook for people for many many reasons, all of which I could "anthropologize" to look at the semiotic, structural, or functional reasons for, but at the end of the day, those academic reasons do not matter and I really don't care about them. At the end of the day the reason why I love food and love to cook for people and eat with people is more of a spiritual connection with earth and those I love--a connection that no amount of academic theory will ever be able to comprehend. I plan to write more about this and try to express these thoughts in a more coherent way in the future, but this is about the best I can do for now. So thank you Russ, for putting into poignant words what I could not. And for now, I will end this monstrous blog post...

Neighborhood Eats...And Another Pie

2008-07-30T23:08:00.006-05:00

Last week I had one of the best burgers I have eaten in a long time--it was a turkey burger at Eleven City Diner on 11th and Wabash in the South Loop. The food at this place was amazing--classic Jewish deli food, and some of the best I have had--but the atmosphere and vibe of the restaurant was what made it great, my opinion.

The front of the menu featured a blurb written by the owner of the place, Brad Rubin (he has a very appropriate name for owning a Jewish Deli--the rueben sandwich was also excellent, by the way):

"I was raised on old school diners & the Jewish delicatessen. Growing up in Chicago and traveling by car and motorbike throughout all 50 states since I was a kid gave me an insatiable taste and respect for the food and culture. A casual family restaurant is the cornerstone of a great Chicago neighborhood. ELEVEN is a hybrid of my sincere respect for what family 'dining rooms' used to be. I do hope that our restaurant rekindles the feelings of true friendly 'diners'--the type of quality restaurants so many of us grew up with (and still crave) which have slowly, but steadily, disappeared from our city's street corners."

Mr. Rubin could not have put it better: what is happening to the local neighborhood restaurant? Applebee's does not count. And this is my exact point. I think it is so sad that national chain restaurants are taking over and forcing out local independent establishments. When I first moved out to Chicago, I drove here from California with my mom. Us being us, we planned our whole trip according to the restaurants that we were going to stop at along the way. Our goal was to not have to eat at a single chain or fast food place the whole way, and sadly, we could not meet our goal. We had to eat Quizno's in Barsto, CA and at a Subway in Greeley, CO. Granted, our stop in Barsto had to be quick, and we did not want to stray far off the freeway, so I cannot say that we searched for an independent place. However, we scoured Greeley, CO for a local deli, and could not find anything except for chain places.

As Mr. Rubin said, a casual family restaurant is the cornerstone of a great neighborhood. I think that you can really get a feel for the vibe of a local area from being inside a local restaurant. At ELEVEN, our waiter was absolutely phenomenal. He was so friendly and so helpful, and you could tell that he really enjoyed working there--which really says something in my opinion. Remember the scene in Office Space where Jennifer Aniston is hounded by the management of the restaurant she works at for not having enough "flare"?? The restaurant in the movie clearly is a spoof on TGIFriday's, and I cannot tell you how many times I have been into a TGIFriday's and experienced disgruntled and unhappy waitstaff. Having a great server can so often make or break your dining experience, or make an already great dining experience absolutely outstanding, as our waiter did for us at ELEVEN.

But I think that one of the greatest aspects of Chicago's dining scene is that there are so many independent neighborhood restaurants. When I lived in Berkeley there were many independent restaurants, but so many of them were SO expensive. The average entree at the Berkeley restaurants was around $19, and many of the places were not open for lunch. The prices at eateries in San Francisco were by no means any better. It was really hard to find a little local casual place to get an inexpensive lunch or dinner. I have not spent much time in New York, so I really cannot comment on the scene there. But Chicago has so many local establishments that truly give such a unique feel to each neighborhood--from the Mexican places in Pilsen, to the brew pubs in Wrigleyville, the Greek restaurants in Greektown, the amazing Indian food on Devon Ave, the funky vegetarian places in Wicker Park, the upscale fine dining in Lincoln Park and downtown, and of course the fried chicken and BBQ places here on the south side --the dining scene of each neighborhood really gives you a 'flavor' (if you will) of what that neighborhood is all about. And I think this is what makes Chicago such a great and unique dining city. All the food hype at the moment is focused in San Francisco and New York...Chicago I think is yet to be fully discovered. I only hope that when more people do figure out what a great dining city this is, the prices don't go through the roof like they have on the coasts.

Don't get me wrong. I am not completely anti chain restaurant. There are many chains that I really like. I just find it sad that chains are pushing out the local establishments in many communities simply because the overhead costs of running a restaurant are so high. Small business owners cannot compete with national chains that have virtually unlimited capital and can pay premium rents for premium locations--and in the restaurant business, location is everything. As Mr. Rubin said, a great local diner can be the cornerstone of a neighborhood community, and I feel like that type of community is slowly becoming a phenomenon of the past--but I hope that I am wrong.

Finally, on an unrelated note...I made another pie: peach and red current.

Red currents were still available at the farmers' market last week, so I snatched up a bunch of peaches and a basket of red currents. This pie was just a classic, double crust pie. I underestimated how juicy the peaches were and did not put enough tapioca in the filling, so the middle was a little runny...but my pastry is getting pretty darn good if I say so myself. I just filled the pie crust the peaches mixed with sugar, tapioca, a pinch of cinnamon, a squirt of lemon juice, and the red currents--tossed in very carefully at the very end because they are quite fragile. I brushed the top pastry with some milk and baked it for about an hour and there you have it...

well, there you have the pictures of it at least...tomorrow I embark upon making a triple berry pie. I need to take full advantage of the peak of berry season--updates to come. Maybe if all else fails in my life plans I will open a local neighborhood pie shop...I can be the pie lady. That will put my master's degree to good work :)

Local Food and Gardening For Yuppies

2008-07-22T17:08:00.004-05:00

So I was procrastinating writing my thesis (what else is new) and reading The New York Times this morning when I came across this article, A Locally Grown Diet With Fuss but No Muss. The article calls these people, "lazy locavores"--people who want to eat local and from their own garden, but "don't have time" or don't want to actually get their hands dirty. For a hefty fee, this guy from San Francisco will come to your home, build you a garden, weed it, water it, and even harvest it--leaving your box of veggis on your back porch all ready for you to eat. My immediate reaction was astonishment followed by a chuckle...followed by some pondering--hence this blog post.

So, essentially "local" food is super trendy at the moment. I have posted before on the topic of "locavores" and and locally grown food. In theory it is a great idea. I am all for de-centralizing our food supply. Obtaining our food from smaller, more local farms/ranches/producers/etc. will not only make massive outbreaks of salmonella and e coli less likely, but also will make the the country a safer place. Michael Pollan has warned that the centralized and industrial nature of our food system is extremely vulnerable to a bio-terrorist attack-- it is really a threat to our national security (but this is a topic for a whole new post). Also, local food is healthier. The less time between the soil and the plate, the more nutrients the food has. Thirdly, local food tastes better--it can be picked when it is ripe and ready to eat, as opposed to being picked way too early so that it can be trucked or flown across the country. And finally, I can't forget to mention that local food supports small local farms and ranches, keeping communities alive, vibrant, and diverse. So, the bottom line is that I am all in favor of local food--in moderation.

Like I have said, I see no problem with importing cocoa, spices, tea, etc. People have imported and traded these types of food for hundred of years. What I think is silly is flying highly perishable produce half way across the world just so that people can eat strawberries and asparagus in December. What is even more silly is when these Chilean strawberries and asparagus are organic, because it doesn't really matter that they were grown without chemicals when you consider how much fuel it takes to fly them to the US--not to mention the pollution spewing out the back of the jet plane. So yes, bottom line...local food in moderation...good. Buying your food directly from local farmers at a farmers' market...great! Gardening and growing your own food...awesome!!! The coolest part about growing your own food is that not only do you really appreciate your food (it is hard work after all, and you literally get to eat the fruits of your labor), but gardening forces you to take some time out of your day to slow down and and connect with the earth--detach from the fast paced, supersonic lifestyle that so many people get caught up in today. I am sure there are tons of studies that show the stress-relief benefits of a hobby like gardening.

So, when I see that New York yuppies are paying people to plant, tend to, and harvest gardens in their back yard because they are "too busy" to garden themselves, I really really start to wonder about this country. My immediate reaction to reading this article was to think that this phenomenon is so typically American--feeling guilty about the environment, and wanting live the healthiest lifestyle, but not wanting to put in any effort--so whip out the credit card and pay someone else to do it! When yuppies pay people to plant and harvest their gardens for them, and pay personal chefs to cook and shop at farmers markets for them they loose sight of the big picture--that there really is more to eating local and gardening that just the food. People loose sight of the idea that food forms a community and connects people to their environment.

However, then I step back and think...I suppose it is still technically better for the environment when New Yorkers pay to have gardens planted for them as opposed to buying into the industrial food system. So am I being overly cynical in criticizing these New Yorkers? Am I being overly idealistic to think that people would actually plant gardens themselves? I am not sure...reading this story really annoyed me, but maybe my reaction is not justified....

Farm Fantasies--Feeling Connected to Our Food

2008-07-19T21:28:00.007-05:00

When I was growing up, I remember wishing that I lived on a farm. I don't really remember why I wanted to live on a farm, but I think that it had something to do with a romantic vision in my head of collecting fresh eggs, milking cows, tilling soil to plant crops, and picking all kinds of fruits and vegetables. Probably these ideas were put in my head from watching old movies like Old Yeller and The Wizard of Oz and Charlotte's Web, but nonetheless, I still remember daydreaming about life on a farm (of course I only daydreamed of the fun parts of farm life, having no idea just how much hard work farming actually is). But last week I stared to reminisce about my childhood fantasy after a trip to the new Whole Foods in Chicago's South Loop. I noticed that this vision of and imagined nostalgia for farm life (one that I don't think I alone had as a kid) is currently making John Mackey (the CEO of Whole Foods) a whole lot of money.

The entrance to Whole Foods leads you first into the produce department. To put it simply the display of fresh produce is beautiful, pilled high with signs that are meant to look hand written, the whole produce area is surrounded by pictures of rolling green hills, rows of vegetables, fruit trees, and of course pictures of farmers--the farmers who supposedly supply Whole Food with the produce available in front of the customer (I am speaking of the South Loop store on Roosevelt, but almost any Whole Foods I have been into has the same decor). Many of the produce displays use wooden barrels or burlap sacks, and in the middle of the floor is an old truck bed holding the potatoes and onions. Customers literally pick their potatoes and onions off the back of an old farm truck (an old farm truck in the middle of a huge grocery store, in the middle of downtown Chicago).

Move over to the meat and dairy section of the store and there are pictures of green pastures with happy and healthy looking cows grazing on the grass. Once again, there are pictures of dairy farmers and often a blurb on the wall about a particular dairy farm. Next to this is the cheese section where huge rounds of cheese sit on butcher blocks, piled high with cut wedges. Little labels mark each type of cheese, noting whether it is made from cow, sheep, or goat milk (or maybe a blend of the two or three) and the country in which the cheese is made.

I could go on for pages describing the ambiance, atmosphere, and layout of Whole Foods--it is very impressive. As Michael Pollan said, shopping at a Whole Foods is not simply shopping, it is an experience. So this is what I began to think about the other day while I was in Whole Foods--just what is that experience? What is the draw? What is the fantasy (if you want to call it that) that Whole Foods is trying to create for the customer? Last week I realized that the feeling of shopping at a Whole Foods reminded me of what I daydreamed about as a little girl--being connected to the earth and actually raising, growing, and harvesting my own food. Every display, every picture, every product description in Whole Foods attempts to connect the customer to the time, place, and person (farmer, rancher, fisherman, cheese maker, chocolate artisan, etc.) that the product comes from.

So I wonder, why is there a daydream and a fantasy about being closely, and possibly intimately, connected to one's food? In this day and age, industrialization has even taken over the food system, and food is something that we think of as very intimate--we put it directly into our bodies after all. While it may be ok to have machines build our cars and computers, there is something comforting about an actual person growing and handling the food that nourishes ourselves and our families. It is quite mind-boggling to think that not long ago my grandparents generation still had a much more direct connection to their food. In their generation, the majority of the country worked as farmers or a ranchers of some sort, while today, the small family farm is truly becoming endangered.

My family in South Africa had a citrus farm for many years; my mom remembers boxes and boxes of oranges arriving on their front doorstep, as well as jars of honey from the bees hives that sat in the orange groves--placed there so that the bees would pollinate the orange trees. She still says that one of her fondest memories as a kid is eating fresh honey comb, cut straight from the hive. I think that this is a memory that unfortunately not may kids today will have. People are becoming farther and farther removed from farming and ranching. A friend of mine, who is a teacher, told me that she had a student who did not know that milk came from cows. The little boy (a fourth grader) thought milk was from "the milk factory," and was astonished to find out that milk came from cows (sadly, he is not far off if you consider the way that cows are treated on industrial dairy farms).

However, we have become so far removed from where our food comes from that I think there is an anxiety about it. I think that there is a longing to be reconnected to our food source--to know exactly what we are putting in our bodies and where it comes from. We want to pretend that Farmer John delivers us a fresh basket of eggs every morning, and that our meat comes from happy cows and happy chickens that frolicked in meadows before they became our dinner--and Whole Foods has figured this out. The irony of the matter is that while so many people are paying a lot of extra money for a label saying, "grass fed" or "cage free," and a lot of extra money to pick their potatoes and onions off the bed of an old farm truck, these products may not be all the different from what your would find in your normal supermarket. But people pay for the fantasy--for the experience. I think that the success of a place like Whole Foods is proof that there is a longing to be reconnected with our food and those who produce it. I think that is proof that there is an anxiety about the industrial and capitalist nature of the society in which we live.

I have to admit that I wish every day that I was more connected to the food I eat. My childhood fantasy never really ended. I still daydream about living on a farm. One of my favorite parts of shopping at farmers' markets is chatting with the farmers because I love to hear what they have to say about their produce or their animals. I love knowing the person who is growing my food. Through the farmers at the farmers' markets, I live my childhood farm fantasy vicariously through them. And I get the impression that they like to know that their labor (and the fruit of their labor) is appreciated.

Anyway, it is getting late...I am done with my pondering now. I better stop before I start to relate all this to Marx's theories on labor value and alienation. Besides I am about to go and cut open a watermelon--that I bought from a very friendly farmer at the farmers' market...

Apple Of My Eye...Sour Cherry Pie

2008-07-15T23:59:00.012-05:00

OK, so it has not been a fortnight. It has only been a week since my last pie. But I turned in draft of my thesis on Wednesday, which means that I have a bit of a breather before I have to actually finish the damn thing. And since all my friends also turned drafts of their thesis last Friday, I am made a massive dinner (really, I think that I kind of went overboard) and decided to make pie for dessert. So maybe I will change my resolution to making a pie AT LEAST every fortnight. This way I can make as many as I want.

The farmers' market this week was brimming full of amazing produce. One farmer had sour cherries, red currents and peaches. I had this inner debate as to whether to make peach and red current pie, or a classic deep dish sour cherry pie. Both red currents and sour cherries have a very short season, so my chance to make either one of these pies is now or next year. I decided on peach and red current (because it is kind of unusual), but I was not sure how many peaches I needed, plus, I had to leave to go to a doctor's appointment. I told the farmer that I would be back in a couple hours after my appointment (he had been helping me decided between the two pies). However, by the time I got back, he had sold out of all his peaches! So, the peach and red current pie is going to have to wait, and I bought two big baskets of sour cherries. The farmer did feel quite badly that he had sold out of his peaches so he gave me a huge hanging plant for free! It was very nice of him.

So I began my sour cherry pie on Thursday night-- I made the pastry the night before so that it could chill over night, and then made the rest of the pie on Friday morning. This was also the first time that I made a lattice top crust, which scared me a little, but it turned out to be really easy. The pie turned out beautiful! It looked so classic. I think that next time I make a lattice crust, I need to keep the pastry a little more chilled, and I will be able to work it faster because I now know what I am doing, but for a first attempt I am really pleased with myself.

Sour cherries are really easy to pit, even without a pitter. The pit just pops out. After making the pastry, I tossed the pitted cherries with just some tapioca, sugar, lemon zest, and a couple tablespoons of lemon juice and filled the shell. I dotted the top of the cherries with a little butter and then wove the lattice on top. I then brushed it with some milk, sprinkled it with sugar and put it in the oven...presto!

The dinner party was great. For the record, I made pork tenderloin, which I rubbed with olive oil and rosemary and then wrapped in bacon and roasted, served with a fig and port reduction sauce. This was served with roasted red potatoes, wild rice salad, and corn on the cob as accompaniments. But the grad finale was the deep dish sour cherry pie. I served it with almond scented whipped cream--which means that I just added some almond extract to the cream when I whipped it up (and a hint of vanilla extract--whipped cream always needs a little vanilla, in my humble opinion). The almond/cherry combination was stellar.

I think that the coolest part of this pie is that it is so seasonal. Sour cherries have such a short season that this was most likely the only sour cherry pie that I am going to have until at least next year. I am so glad that I got to share it with great friends on such a great night.

PS...I added a couple pictures of Chicago that I took this week while my friend Kerstin was visiting me from California. It was so great to see her; plus, I got to do all kinds of Chicago touristy things that i have not done yet! I am such a fan of this city...

More pie updates to come...and probably some other ramblings and rants along the way...

Watermelon Chiffon Pie for 4th of July

2008-07-06T07:45:00.001-05:00

Pie number two of my newest pie odyssey was a success. I came across the recipe for a watermelon chiffon pie and thought that it was the perfect pie to make for the 4th of July. Ben and I went to a BBQ potluck hosted by a friend of his who has a roof top patio overlooking the Chicago skyline. The night was beautiful. From sundown until we left at midnight, the entire skyline in every direction was erupting in fireworks. I can safely say, that it was the best 4th of July I have had in a while. And the watermelon chiffon was a hit.

First off, it looked pretty. Fluffy and speckley pink with a slight jiggle, it kinda had that "oooh! what is that?!" quality to it. I originally topped it with a couple basil leaves because the grocery store by my house did not have any mint. But as we pulled up to the party, there was a huge mint bush growing right next to where we parked the car! So I ditched the basil leaf last minute and scavenged some urban mint to top the pie.

Although this pie was actually a "no bake" pie, it required many steps and pretty much my whole Thursday afternoon (when I really should have been working on my thesis). First I made the crust: I smashed 14 whole graham crackers (I actually used whole wheat graham crackers, the Midel brand you can get at specialty grocery stores or health food stores). Then I added 3/4 a stick of melted butter and two tablespoons of brown sugar to the crumbs with some vanilla extract, pressed this into a deep dish pie plate, and then stuck it in the refrigerator for 15 minutes while I pre-heated the oven. Then I baked the empty crust for about 10 minutes and stuck it back in the fridge to cool.

Meanwhile, I sliced open my watermelon and cubed it up, reserving 6 cups of cubed watermelon in a big glass bowl, and saving the rest to eat later. I added 1/3 cup of sugar to the 6 cups of cubes and then mashed them until they were really liquidy--then I let this sit for about 15 min to let the sugar really extract all the juice. Next, I strained the watermelon and reserved the juice--which made about 2 and 3/4 cups of juice. I threw out the pulp, and sprinkled 2 envelopes of gelatin over the watermelon juice and stuck that in the fridge.

Next I beat two egg whites to stiff peaks and set them aside. Then, I beat one cup of cream until soft peaks formed, then slowly added 1 cup of powdered sugar and continued to beat until the mixture was thick and creamy (I beat the cream in a glass bowl that was set inside another glass bowl full of ice--the key is to keep the whipped cream really cold so that it does not go floppy). I stuck the cream in the fridge and waited until the watermelon juice started to firm up and get jiggly.

Once the watermelon juice was thickened, I added about a quarter of the whipped cream into the watermelon juice and beat it in. Then I gently folded in the egg whites and remaining whipped cream and poured all this into the shell and then refrigerated it over night. And that was it!

The pie tasted like a watermelon cloud. It was so light and fluffy, but still had some bite to it because of the gelatin. Maybe it was more like fluffy creamy watermelon jell-o. Anyway, it was good nonetheless. I was thinking that it would be fun to make the same recipe but using lemonade, to make a lemonade chiffon pie. But that will have to wait for another fortnight. I am thinking that my next pie will be a summer fruit pie of some sort. I will see what bounty the farmer's market brings a fortnight from now.

ps...A funny side note: My roommate tells me that she just read an article that stated that watermelon is like natural Viagra. I don't know if that gives you more or less incentive to make this pie, but I just thought I would share that tidbit of information.