Old Ideas for a New Year

Sometimes the best new ideas are the ones that aren't new at all, but rather a rediscovery of methods and means whose wisdom has been known for ages. When it comes to cooking, this idea is heralded repeatedly by those who advocate for slower, more local eating. The Slow Food movement, in addition to working toward food that is "Good, Clean, and Fair," points us back to vanishing cooking styles and heirloom ingredients, along with the increasingly uncommon practice of sitting down to enjoy a meal we've prepared with family and friends. Michael Pollan, one of the most prominent voices in the local food movement, tells us: "Don't eat anything your grandmother wouldn't recognize as food." Simple enough, and an easy way to navigate around the many processed food-ish creations that inhabit our modern supermarkets. Mark Bittman, cookbook author and writer for the New York Times, is also a voice for more planet-friendly eating, and as part of theTimes' New Year's section on sustainability offers an alternative to the countless diet crazes that emerge at this time of year: "Chop, Fry, Boil: Eating for One, or 6 Billion."

The concept is easy to embrace: three simple recipes--stir fry, rice and lentils, and a chopped salad--that can form the foundation of a lifetime of healthy cooking and eating. As Bittman states, they are techniques as much as recipes. Once mastered, they can be adapted to fit any locale or time of year, incorporating local, seasonal produce and whatever personal flourish the chef desires. Also important, they can all make for full meals without meat, an element that can be difficult to find in planet-friendly form. For so many of us who have fallen away from cooking in our daily lives, these easy, classic meals provide a re-entry point into a healthy, fulfilling relationship with our kitchen, one that can be passed on to our children during the evening hours in place of so much excess screen time.

Personally, I'm going to start with the rice and lentils. For years now I've been swayed from such dishes by my bean loathing husband, but maybe with a little extra flair I can win him over...full report to follow in the coming weeks.

Click here for the stir fry recipe, here for rice and lentils, and here for chopped salad.

Happy New (Old) Eating!

The "Dirty Dozen" and the "Clean 15"

These days, most of us are conscious of many different issues when we wander the aisles of the supermarket. If you're reading this blog, you probably try to avoid corn syrup and processed foods, you might keep your eye out for locally-produced products, and you certainly buy organic whenever you can. But, if you're like most consumers, your budget is not limitless, so price is also a factor when deciding between the healthiest option and the next best thing. If the difference between organic and conventionally grown broccoli makes your heart skip a beat, the choice can be a tricky one.

Well, thanks to a fabulous interview with Michael Pollan on DemocracyNow, I've learned of a very helpful list put together by the Environmental Working Group. Referred to as the "Dirty Dozen," the list contains the 12 fruits and veggies that soak up the most pesticides when grown conventionally and are therefore the most important to buy organic. It also names the "Clean 15," for which the opposite is true--these items absorb much less of whatever they might be sprayed with, so buying them non-organic is less worrisome than most. With this list in hand, you can see that it's better to splurge on the organic apples and save a little on some conventional broccoli. Or if conventional strawberries are all that's available, better to wait until next week.

You can download a pocket-sized copy of the guide (or the iphone app!) by clicking here. Happy shopping, and healthy eating!

Click here to watch Pollan's full interview--it's packed full of nutritious information!

Goodbye Forever, Mickey D's

I am, and forever will be, a great lover of the French fry. A lot of people say this, I know, but in my case the love runs deep. So deep, in fact, that when I appeared on a radio show during my senior year of college, I responded "the French fry" when asked to name the greatest invention of all time. (Not my brightest moment, but I was desperate not to name a domestic appliance as had the three women who answered before me, and fries were all that came to my terribly nervous mind.)

In any case, fries are one of my greatest culinary loves, and up until today this has included the very occasional excursion to McDonald's. There's just something incomparable about those long, thing, crispy fries, so reliable golden and salty no matter which franchise you choose. No, I do not feel good about these indulgences when I succumb to the urge (most often on a road trip), and I certainly feel no better after the fact. I have pretty much broken with all other McDonald's products, and have often wished to able to break the chains of the French fry bond. Today, I got my wish.

This morning, on WBUR's On Point, Michael Pollan discussed his most recent book, Food Rules, in which he attempts to present a simple set of guidelines to help consumers navigate their way toward whole, healthful food each day. It was an interesting discussion as always, but one that by now I'm fairly familiar with. Until they got to the subject of McDonald's French fries and their remarkably consistent perfection. As it turns out, those remarkably unblemished fries are made spot free at a cost that is, to me, unacceptable. McDonald's will not take potatoes that have the usual harmless brown spots, so farmers are forced to use an incredibly potent pesticide, one that happens to also be an incredibly potent neurotoxin. According to Pollan, farmers cannot go back into the field for five days after spraying for fear of brain damage. Even if something goes wrong with an irrigation line during that period, they'll let the fields go dry before setting foot into what has become a powerfully toxic zone. The possibility that a farmer (or a farmer's spouse, or children, or neighbors) could stumble into a field where food is being raised for me to eat and incur irrevocable brain damage is not one that I can ignore, particularly when I can get delicious, non-toxic, whole potato fries at any number of local restaurants, or make them myself at home.

One of the hardest arguments to overcome when trying to convince someone to avoid a processed food or product is also one of the simplest: "but it tastes good." It's the reason why people continue to eat hamburger full of ammonia, chickens that have never seen the light of day, and apples from New Zealand instead of next door. So, when I come across a piece of information like this I do my best to spread the word. It can take a lot for people to overcome the call of their own taste buds, myself included, but putting other people's lives at risk for a prettier french fry seems like a place where we should all resolve to draw the line.

Click here to listen to the full show.

Photo by Kevin Steele, via Flickr Creative Commons.

How Does Your Garden Grow?

"A garden is the most direct way to recapture the issue of health and to make it a private instead of a governmental responsibility." --Wendell Berry, "The Reactor and the Garden," The Gift of Good Land: Further Essays Cultural and Agricultural.

January is not a typical time of year for gardening. Not in Boston, certainly. Not in the sense that we typically think of: digging our fingers under the soil to plant, to weed, or to harvest. This time of year, we are buried in snow and the ground is frozen hard. But, this does not mean that the January gardner sits entirely idle. On the contrary, the deep winter season offers time for contemplation. What will be planted in the growing season to come? What lessons can be learned from the last? Even I, with only my tiny herb planter to ponder, find myself considering what new varieties I might try out next year, what more I would plant if I had the luxury of a yard to do it in.

January also brings in a new year, prompting many of us to reflect on how we'd like to make our lives better over the next twelve months, how to grow ourselves as individuals and work together to solve larger social problems. After a few long weeks of holiday overindulgences--thankfully tempered by the start of a new farm share--I find myself thinking a great deal about food and the myriad ways that our choices in that realm stand to effect not only our personal health, but that of the planet as a whole. Following Thursday's New York Times article about the ubiquitous presence of ammonia processed beef in this country's hamburger, and a recent re-viewing of the incredible documentary, Food Inc. (if you haven't seen it yet, you really must) Berry's words about recapturing the responsibility for our health hold particular resonance. The government agencies responsible for fostering and protecting our food system cannot currently be relied upon to do so given the revolving door between corporate agriculture and positions of power at the USDA and FDA. And, while this system needs to be held accountable and fighting to change it is an essential endeavor, it can feel like chipping away at an iceberg.

A garden, on the other hand, provides much speedier results, and a much more satisfying path to getting there. The means are as satisfying as the end, and the gardener has ownership in the entire process. Yes, there are the perils of pests and weather to contend with in order to achieve success, but these are much more pleasant adversaries to consider than profit-hungry CEOs whose power seems to have no end. As stated at the end of Food Inc., planting a garden, even a small one, is the most direct way to regain control of your food supply, and thereby your health, in a system that has gone so terribly awry. It is also far more delicious than letter writing.

So, for those of you inclined to spend these snowy days indoors, pondering your plantings for the first or the fortieth time, I offer a few reading suggestions to help you percolate on the possibilities until the spring thaw.

First, there's Karel Capek's The Gardener's Year, part of the Modern Library Gardening Series, edited by none other than Michael Pollan. Originally written in Czech in 1929, Capek's observations are whimsical and insightful, reminding us of the wonders of growing while poking light fun at the quirks and obsessions of the average gardener. The book's pages are also adorned by a charming collection line drawings created by Capek's brother. As Pollan writes in his series introduction, "there's plenty of how-to here, but the emphasis is more along the lines of how-to-think-about-it than how-to-do-it." Just right for the time of year when you're better off under a blanket than out in a field. The series has become home to many other forgotten books, including enticing titles such as In the Land of the Blue Poppies, Old Herbaceous, and The Gardener's Bed-Book: Short and Long Pieces to Be Read in Bed By Those Who Love Green Growing Things. You can peruse and purchase any of them here.

For a more contemporary but still varied list of gardening-related books, click here to see the year's 10 best gardening books, according to the Boston.com Gardening blog.

To see you through until you get your hands on one of these, or until you can get your hands good and dirty, here are a few encouraging winter words by Capek, from a chapter entitled "The Gardener's February":

"But do you know what? The snowdrops are in flower; and hamamelis with yellow stars is in flower, and hellebore has fat buds; and when you look properly (but you must hold your breath) you will find buds and sprouts on almost everything; with a thousand tiny pulses life rises from the soil. Now we gardeners will stick to it; already we are rushing into sap."

Slow Food Goes Digital

This week I received the fall issue of Slow Food USA's quarterly magazine, The Snail. In a surprise twist, it arrived quietly in my e-mail inbox rather than falling with a thud through the mail slot of my front door. In an effort to deliver news to its members in a greener fashion, Slow Food has done away with the old print format and now delivers the mag through an on-line viewer. As a life-long reader who dearly loves the feel of paper pages in her hand, this member was skeptical at first. However, I was pleasantly surprised by how easy (dare I say enjoyable?) it was to read the magazine on-line. There are even virtual "pages," that turn in a remarkably realistic manner. The content, as always, was inspiring and informative. Below are a few of the highlights included in the current issue. Enjoy!

*Michael Pollan's September op-ed in the New York Times, in which he links health care reform to the reform of our food systems.

*The new USDA "Know Your Farmer, Know Your Food" campaign, which aims to create more and stronger connections between producers and consumers, all while strengthening rural communities, supporting small growers, and promoting the importance of knowing where your food comes from.

*And update on Slow Food's "Time for Lunch" campaign. Over 20,000 people attended the campaign's "eat-ins" on Labor Day weekend, and there are many ways you can still get involved before Congress votes on the Child Nutrition Act next spring. Click here to find out how you can help get whole, healthy foods into our nation's public schools.

Interested in receiving The Snail in your inbox? Click here to find out how you can become a member of Slow Food USA.

From Substance to Spectacle

I will be the first to admit that I love a good food show on a lazy Sunday morning. As someone who loves to cook and loves to eat even more, I find myself regularly transfixed by Tyler Florence or Paula Deen--who wouldn't stop to watch someone make (and eat!) deep fried butter balls? All along, however, I've had an uneasy relationship with this kind of television, telling myself that it's an hour well spent--I'm learning something!--but knowing somewhere inside me that I'm walking away with very few additional skills or ideas, if any.

Enter Michael Pollan, who more than validates this feeling in his most recent article in The New York Times Magazine, "Out of the Kitchen, Onto the Couch: how American cooking became a spectator sport, and what we lost along the way." In it, he tackles a current paradox in our food culture: how is it that Americans are so eager to spend hours watching shows like Top Chefand The Next Food Network Star but spend less time actually using our kitchens than ever before? He traces the development of food television from the inspiring and unedited Julia Child to the current slew of shortcut-filled "dump-and-stir" shows on the Food Network. No longer are cooking shows designed to educate those who love to cook, argues Pollan. Instead, they are designed for those who love to eat, including competition-based shows like Iron Chefand Chopped, which are breathless, down-to-the-last-second affairs more akin to sporting events than a cooking lesson.

One thing we do get out of the Food Network, according to Pollan, is "culinary fashion," picking up fancy words like crudo. And, while such terms can provide the appearance of sophistication when ordering from a menu, they don't really improve our cooking skills, as illustrated by a recent incident in my own kitchen. As I prepared dinner for a dear friend who happens to know a great deal about food, I asked her opinion on how to best prepare basil. "Do you chop it or tear it?" I asked, having seen an episode of Rachel Ray wherein the host stated that some people prefer to tear it, as the knife can cause bruising. "I know you're not supposed to chop it," I said, as though I really knew a lot about the matter, "but I really like to do a nice chiffonade." My friend raised her eyebrows and smiled. "What's a chiffonade?" she asked, and we both had a good laugh at my use of such a fancy word in such an everyday setting. Yes, it's true the the thin ribbons of a chiffonade can make basil look extra pretty, but as my mother used to say when things didn't look the way I wanted them to on my plate, "It still tastes the same." In other words, what matters most in cooking is really the substance of what we create, a truth that we've lost sight of in many arenas today, the Food Network being just one of them.

In life, there is a place for just about everything in moderation, but Pollan's article has certainly added some weight to that funny Food Network feeling that I get when watching their programs. I can't say that I'll resist the temptation of tonight's finale episode of The Next Food Network Star, but maybe the next time I get the urge to plop down in front of some random food TV I'll head for the kitchen instead. Not only will I wind up with something delicious to eat, but I'll be much more likely to learn something along the way.

Get Fresh

On Thursday, May 28th at 7:00 pm, there will be a Cambridge screening of the new film, Fresh. The movie, which chronicles the growing movement away from industrial agriculture, "celebrates the farmers, thinkers and business people across America who are re-inventing our food system."

To sweeten the pot, there will be a panel discussion following the screening, featuring local chefs and policy makers, as well as Joel Salatin of Polyface Farms. (Sound familiar? Salatin and his forward-thinking agricultural practices are featured in Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma. If you haven't read it yet, this blogger highly recommends putting it at the top of your list!)

The film will be shown in room B 103 of the Harvard Northwest Building at 52 Oxford St. Tickets are $15. Click here to get yours!

A Willing Foot Soldier

Ever since I read The Omnivore's Dilemma last year, I have made it my mission to read every word written by Michael Pollan.  His knowledgeable but never preachy perspectives on the state of food culture and agriculture in the United States are as inspiring as they are informative, and I'm grateful every time I see one of his books on the front table at the big-name bookstores.  I take this to mean that his books are selling well, which in turn must mean his readership is growing, which, I hope, can only mean that many people are coming to the same realizations that I have come to in the past few years:  that moving toward sustainable food practices--including everything from how we raise livestock, to using real ingredients, to buying locally--is a necessity if we want to preserve our environment, our bodies, and the place that food has long held in our lives as social beings.

Thus, when I received an e-mail from Food Democracy Now urging me to "Join Michael Pollan's Army," I did not have to think twice.  I have already been pounding the pavement, urging friends and family to read his books, and regularly loaning out my copy of The Omnivore's Dilemma.  Food Democracy Now is aiming a little higher with their efforts, with the new Obama administration in their sights.  The goal:  let this administration know that, among the many options for changing up "business as usual," building a sustainable USDA is something that matters to the average citizen, and that it should matter to our government as well.  The petition that they've created to this effect also offers up some excellent sustainability-minded candidates for undersecretary positions at the USDA.  As of this writing, 81,467 people have signed on.  Will you be one more?  Visit www.fooddemocracynow.org to add your name to the list!