Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts

Saturday, September 15, 2007

Read it: "Plenty"

Right before I came to Argentina, I read “Plenty: One Man, One Woman, and a Raucous Year of Eating Locally", the book by Alisa Smith and James MacKinnon that has brought much recent attention to eating locally grown food. It was a great, fast read, and details how the authors spent one year eating only foods whose origins they could trace to within 100 miles of their Vancouver apartment.
While cynics might dismiss their experiment as just another gimmick in the “let’s try something sustainable for one year and write a book about it” trend, it’s clear from the opening pages that this was anything but that. “Plenty” is an authentic and heart-felt attempt by one couple to wrestle control back from our highly flawed, destructive, polluting and wasteful agricultural system. Ok, this is starting to sound like a newspaper book review, but bear with me. They trace how an impromptu feast from all local ingredients illuminated their lurking suspicions that something just isn’t right with how we eat, and that they could do better. The book details their journey from subsisting primarily on potatoes for the first month…to educating themselves about what is grown around them and the satisfaction of knowing precisely where each apple and onion came from…enjoying the abundant months of farmers’ markets...to discovering how grounding and enjoyable some old-school culinary arts can be: Think canning tomatoes for winter, turning cabbage into sauerkraut, and making cheese. Sounds fun, doesn’t it?!

By now you’ve probably heard the statistics. The average ingredient in any given North American meal travels at least 1500 miles--and often many more--to get to our plates. Think about all the fossil fuels used up and burned just to bring you a tomato that never gets ripe in December. And why? Somewhere along the way we’ve gotten spoiled, expecting oranges in january and tropical bananas year round. Does anyone actually recall the days of seasonal fruit? I am not old enough to have that memory…And as any foodie will tell attest, it’s a gastronomic crime to eat out of season, mediocre, unripe produce that is a poor imitation of its seasonal counterparts. On the other hand, eating locally can be as gourmet as it gets, like at Chez Panisse, the original regional foodie restaurant in Berkeley. A couple months ago, I got treated to one of the best meals I've ever had...Just look at that dessert!

But Alisa and James didn’t just eat locally grown produce. We’re talking grains, eggs, fish, and dairy products too—their entire diet. That meant honey instead of sugar, and they went without any wheat products for almost the entire year until they found one lone wheat farmer at the edge of their 100 miles. But they discovered other grains, and other ways of making balanced meals. Obviously, their experiment automatically ruled out supermarket food, chocked full, as it is, of a medley of ingredients and “flavors” of whose origins are unknown (and disturbing to ponder). Eating locally necessarily means eliminating processed, factory made foods, which is not only healthier, but also makes a statement for a smaller, healthier, and more connected food production system.

What’s most illuminating about "Plenty" is that Alisa and James discover that eating locally is not any kind of deprivation or punishment. On the contrary, they found eating a more joyful experience and became not only more connected to what they put in their bodies, but also to the very specific place they live and to the conditions that make their food possible. When a toxic spill killed the area’s salmon supply in a nearby river, they felt it deeply, and went without salmon for the year. I suspect that if we were all eating more locally, we would more quickly see how dependent we are on the delicate balance of nature that makes our nourishment possible. If we knew where our food came from, we would undoubtedly be more alert to the early signs when something is off balance, and we would hopefully be inclined to react more quickly.

So what to do? The easiest step to eat locally is of course, visiting our farmers’ market regularly. Most have way more offerings than just scrumptious produce—at mine I can get eggs, honey, the best cheese in the world, milk, hummus, bread, nuts and dried fruits. I’ve yet to try the grass-fed bison, but I bet it’s juicy. Discover what your area has to offer! (See below for how to find local food). Host a local-foods potluck, which will be a good excuse to hunt down some local wine or beer. As summer comes to a close, get crazy and can some fruit to enjoy in the winter. I can already see it—canning parties becoming the newest hipster pastime...And be sure to check out the 100-mile diet website and get inspired by how many people are taking on the local eating challenge, at some level or another. Eating as locally as we can is one crucial step towards creating a more sustainable way of feeding ourselves.

P.S. Eating in Argentina has been an adventure. On the one hand, out of economic necessity, everything is much more local—I’m pretty sure most of the food I’ve eaten comes from within a couple hundred miles, because they just can’t afford to truck food thousands of kilometers. But on the other hand, there’s not much diversity—tons of pizza, pasta, meat and bread, and not many “whole foods”, as we would call them. So I’ve found myself almost obsessively searching for decidedly unlocal foods like, peanut butter (I’ve heard tales of its existence in at least one store in Buenos Aires, but have yet to find it), which is somewhat legit because I need protein. A little less justified was my quest for salsa, simply because I’ve been craving some spice and in my normal life I subsist on Mexican food. When I finally found some “Newman’s Own Chunky Salsa”—I know, not even the good stuff--in the “Imported Foods” aisle of a huge supermarket, I unthinkingly snapped it up. Yikes—I can’t imagine the thousands of miles that jar traveled! Woops. Ironically, far from being the satisfying and familiar explosion of flavor I was anticipating, eating it has been a reminder of why it’s a good idea to eat locally. You see, you just can’t find good tortilla chips here.


Check out this great resource to find locally grown food near you, at farmer’s markets or through CSAs (Community Supported Agriculture): Local Harvest. Just type in your zip code...You can even search for specific foods and it will tell you if there is anything in your area!

The 100-Mile Diet.. Has lots of fun features and lets you find your own 100 miles.

Ask your local bookstore to order "Plenty", or order it from Powell's.

Friday, August 31, 2007

Pop your own: DIY popcorn

Scrolling through Treehugger today, I was reminded of one of the many tasks on my blog to-do list: Spread the word about making your own popcorn!
A few months ago at work this became my favorite mid-afternoon-slump snack when some bulk kernels and paper bags surfaced in the kitchen (I think a coworker was trying to avoid the caloric-rich microwavable stuff). We should all be avoiding it, and not just for our own health. You've probably heard by now that the "butter" is well, quite artificial--its real name is diacetyl, and that workers who handle the stuff are developing a kind of lung disease. Definitely not something I want to be contributing to, or ingesting. Besides, the real stuff tastes so much better. It's easy: Get some bulk kernels at your favorite health food store (another point for ye 'ol bulk bins), and put them in a small paper bag. You pop it for about the same amount of time you would do a pre-bought bag, but stay close to listen for the pops slowing down. Treehugger suggests adding a slab of butter at the beginning, but I prefer to melt the butter separately and pour it over once I've transferred the popped corn to a bowl. That way you can save the bag for the next popping, and there's something delightfully gluttonous about pouring melted butter over, well, anything. An alternative, as one smarty-pants commenter noted on Treehugger, you can avoid the paper bag by heating some oil in a pan and cooking your kernels that way. I've yet to try it the slower way, but I do have vague memories of my dad popping corn over the stove, and I'm sure it doesn't really take that much longer. Add some salt and it's a totally delicious snack (and low-cal if you forgo the melted butter). Not only are you avoiding a nasty "butter-like" chemical that I can't even pronounce, but anytime I replace food from a factory with something I "make" myself, things feel a bit more right in the world.

Here's an incredibly sad Washington Post article about a worker with "popcorn workers' lung". The stuff still isn't regulated.

And here's Treehugger's take on DIY popcorn.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Squeeze your own

A couple months ago, I made the best purchase I can recall in a long time: a stainless steel hand citrus squeezer for a whopping $5. In no time, I was in the habit of squeezing my own orange juice several times a week, which felt downright luxurious.

More accurately, it felt simultaneously indulgent--given that fresh-squeezed OJ is a favorite of the yuppie set-- and thrifty for exactly that same reason. It felt like I was bucking the system--like haha, see if I ever pay $4 for a glass of fresh-squeezed OJ at brunch ever again! (I use 2-3 organic oranges for a glass, which according to my calculations, is about a pound...which I paid $1.40 for today at Co-Opportunity). That being said, I do appreciate the labor involved--some serious elbow-grease is necessary. But I've come to quite enjoy this little morning ritual--both the amazingly fresh, tasty result and the squeezing process itself. There's something so satisfying about squeezing every last drop out of each orange half. I must admit I've found the whole process quite grounding and invigorating. It's like a whole new juicing world has opened up to me! Of course, an added bonus is that you save a carton or plastic bottle every time you squeeze your own. And if you aren't a failed composter like me (no negative self-talk, no negative self-talk), then you compost the rinds and are totally zero-waste!

I was recounting my recent citrus adventures to a coworker the other day, and his response was "Cool, but I would never do that because it takes too long". Well, yes, it takes a few minutes, depending on how many oranges you use. You have to wash, cut and squeeze them. It takes more planning and energy than grabbing a Naked Juice from the store. On the other hand, I know I've gained a tiny bit more of a connection to my food supply and that fleeting sense of satisfaction that settles in when you are present for a few moments, concentrating on a task. Perhaps if we had a few more moments of presence rather than convenience throughout the day, we would all be a tad more grounded.

At any rate, I'm hanging onto citrus season as long as I can. My farmer's market is still selling some wonderfully juicy blood oranges, which also make for amazing mimosas, as I discovered a couple lazy Saturdays ago. This year, I luck out because I'll be catching the citrus season again in the southern hemisphere in a couple months. Woohoo! Until then...can you juice nectarines?

Saturday, April 7, 2007

Notes from an unlikely vermicomposter

The second post on composting in 2 days! For as long as I can remember, my dad has had a back-yard composting bin. This is yet another one of his habits that I must admit I wasn’t always a willing participant in (like the reused wrapping paper), since he made us trek out to the yard and dump the stinky scraps.

But, not surprisingly, with age I realized how amazing it is that we can “close the loop” on at least some of our trash—not only keeping some of our food scraps out of landfills, but also turning them into super-rich soil. Eventually I started to long for the day when I have a house/yard and can build my own composter (will go nicely with that laundry line I’m waiting for, too). I assumed there was no way I could compost in an apartment. But, my sister has had a long-time interest in composting (see below!) and started nudging me about worm composting. For a while I resisted, because, well…as “treehugging” as I may appear, I’m really not a creepy-crawly kinda person. I was never one of those kids who was all cool with letting bugs and worms crawl all over me, ya know? And to have them in my apartment? Ewwwww…But, a few weeks ago I decided that keeping a portion of my waste out of landfills was more important than my personal phobias. It was time to grow up, face my creepy crawly fears, and set up my own worm compost in my apartment.

So this is what I did, and what you can do very easily too. I ordered one pound of red wiggler worms. I got mine from Happy D Ranch. If you live anywhere near a farm, you can just go and ask for some red worms and they will probably accommodate, which is cheaper and less energy-sucking than mailing. Just make sure you get red worms (Eisenia fetida) or red wigglers (Lumbricus rubellus) because other worms are not suited for composting. I couldn't find anywhere near me that has red worms, so I paid $38 (including shipping) for my pound. Happy D also threw in a "Promote Global Worming" bumper sticker...how very clever.


I got a wooden box, and drilled some holes in it for air and drainage.




I made the bedding, out of newspaper, cardboard (I knew I’d been saving those toilet paper rolls for something), a little sawdust from drilling the holes, and a couple handfuls of dirt. All the websites I read instructed me to get the newspaper strips wet, like a wrung-out sponge. I was super-paranoid about the level of moisture (what if it's too wet and they drown, too dry and they dehydrate?), but I think I eventually got it right, and after all, worms are hardy. Only use black and white newspaper--put those "adult ads" at the back of the Weekly to good use.

So there was only one thing left to do. Open the worm box. Perhaps I shouldn't be admitting this publicly, but I almost had a nervous breakdown before I opened it. See, throughout the week, I started to realize that I was filled with dread every time I approached my door at night, for fear that they had arrived. Although I was anxious to get my composting going, I was secretly grateful each day that they weren't there. I figured, by the time they arrived, I would have done some mental strengthening exercises or something to prepare myself, right? So then, Friday night, I get home following after-work drinks, and there it was. I rationalized that they'd be ok for a few more hours until I was in a better state to deal with them in the morning, and after all, the box wasn't totally ready yet.

The next morning, after much hand-wringing and pacing, I finally approached the box. Although severely irrational, I was afraid that as soon as I cut the tape on the top of the box, worms would start pouring out, crawling all over my hands and covering my body. First cut. Nothing. Open flaps. Instructions from the ranch. Remove paper. A cloth pouch. Ok, I can deal with this. Unless they're all dead. I saw no movement. What if I've killed them before I even started? What if it was those few extra hours that killed them? I can't be going out for drinks now that I have life to sustain. Ok, I hovered over the bin, cut the pouch open and dumped the contents into the bin. It was a clomp of dirt. I saw no worms. After stepping back and realizing the worst was over, I approached the bin and used a wooden spoon to break open the dirt. Worms came cascading out. By this time, my fear of vermi-infestation had been replaced by vermicide, so I was just relieved to see life. I hadn't killed them before I started, after all...hoorah!


The rest was cake. I fed them the scraps I had been saving for the past week. Banana peels, apple cores, wilty leek leaves, and coffee grinds. I covered the layer of scraps with another layer of moist bedding, and covered the bin. In case you're wondering, there is no smell, since the food is buried. Per Molly's suggestion below, store to-be-composted scraps in the freezer to prevent odors before they get buried.

It's been a week now, and I've checked on them every day or so just so see what's going on in there, but I actually can't see much other than wiggling, which is always a relief. I'm just about to add my second round of food.

They can eat up to thrice their weight in food every week, which means three pounds for now. (Eventually they'll reproduce and I could feed them even more than that.) I still am unsure about how I sustain the moisture level going forward, so I'll be doing some vermi-research going forward. After a few months, I'll be able to start harvesting the worm castings--the super-rich compost that the worms poop out. Since I don't have a garden, I'll be doling out this rich, natural fertilizer to friends who do grow things. Want some?

Btw, unlike the city-wide San Francisco program Molly describes below, for your own home vermicomposting, you can only include the following food scraps:
fruit and vegetable scraps (chopped up as small as possible)
crushed egg shells
tea bags
coffee grinds and filters

I'll keep you updated on how my wormies progress. Moral of the story: In nature, nothing is waste--even what we consider trash has a vital role in the life cycle. Composting is an essential we can get the balance a little bit more right. Vermicomposting is an easy, viable option for urban dwellers. If the biggest wimp in the world can allow worms into her home, anyone can. Maybe I'll even let them crawl on my hand one day soon.

More specific info on making your bin:
City Farmer
Good Wikipedia article
How to make a worm bin
Worm woman

Friday, April 6, 2007

City-Wide Composting
























Hi, my name is Molly, and I am pleased to be living in a city where:

  • I don’t need a car (can get by walking and taking the bus)
  • They’ve just passed a law prohibiting plastic bags (see Sara’s earlier post with her appropriate concerns about replacing these with other disposable items).
  • There is city-wide composting!

If you guessed I live in San Francisco, that blustery coastal bastion of liberalism and yes, hippies, you're right. But once again, this hippie haven is leading the nation to greater environmental and consumer awareness.

City-Wide Composting!!

It’s true. The city provides complementary plastic bins where you can put ALL food scraps. This includes usually-unorthodox items for compost like meat, cheese, grains and even brown paper! I think this is because these items do biodegrade and relatively quickly, but they emit a bad odor, which is why they’re not recommendable for household composting systems.



So San Franciscans dump their food scraps into these green bins, which get collected along with the garbage, and all this compost is shipped off to one of three locations, all less than 70 miles away, where organic farms dump all the compost into these long bags and pump them with oxygen.


This aeration speeds up the decaying process. When you compost in your backyard, the matter goes through the same process, just more slowly. Because the aerating machines require energy, I see this as a slight kink in the system, but it's still far better than other systems that do not productively use this delicious, carbon-rich matter! The thoroughly converted matter—having spent but two short months in the conversion process—is then used as top-notch fertilizer for organic farms! One lucky farm in particular, Jepsen Prairie Organics, facilitates this whole composting process and sells the compost to other organic farms. I’ll say that’s a sweet deal they’ve got! These organic farms then sell their goods to, hopefully, San Franciscans and other locals. In theory, this is a closed-loop local food production system, and proponents claim it is. For more info., check it out:

http://www.treehugger.com/files/2006/04/san_francisco_c.php

http://www.sunsetscavenger.com/composting.htm

www.csrees.usda.gov/nea/plants/pdfs/cafeteriaware/macy.pdf

If you do NOT live in San Francisco or a city with a composting system, do not despair! You, too, can compost! You have a few options:

  1. Set up a worm composting system. This is a great way to deal with your household food scraps. Stay tuned for more on this! If you are simply too squeamish about wormies, though:
  2. Find your local community garden and ask if you can compost your food there. I bet they say yes!
  3. If there’s no community garden, pool together with friends and neighbors to start a common compost pile where someone has a garden. Set up a rotation, and I bet you only need to tend it a couple times a year. Depending on how much fresh produce you eat, you could probably last a while, too, before taking your food scraps to this common place. In other words--It's easy and low-maintenance!


Here’s a tip that I’ve learned from my fellow San Franciscans: Keep your in-the-meantime compost bin in the freezer so you don’t smell the decaying food. (And for household and community garden compost piles, avoid composting meat and dairy products because of the stench).