Just Checking In Here . . .

. . . with myself.

Me: Hey! You here? You've been quiet lately. Myself: Yep, I'm here. Just buried in reading, research, writing for the new book. Me: Whatcha working on right now? Myself: Reading up on Americans' ideas about food and nutrition, and their on-going debate about food, food sources, and food manufacturing in the 1890s. Me: 1890s? Is that The Jungle stuff?

Myself: No, this is earlier than that. The Jungle was the end of a long era of discussion, not the beginning. I think because so many generations of high school students have been forced to read it, its actual role in the history of American food is misunderstood.

Me: Oh. That makes sense. Well, this other stuff you're reading: Is it interesting? Find anything good?

Myself: Sure! Tons of stuff. Too much, in fact.

Me: For example??

Myself: Well, today I was reading about food "fads," for lack of a better word, and came across this hilarious (to me) quote about the rationale for low-calorie diets and fasting. (This was c. 1902-1910.):

Since it . . . appears that the less we eat, the more energy we have . . . it should be our logical conclusion . . . that, were we to eat nothing at all, we should have very much more energy than usual --- since none of it would be used for digestion, and we should be able to use it all for the daily activities. (*1)

Me: Huh? Was this guy nuts?

Myself: Not really. Just, well, fanatical about his pet project. You know: like joggers who think everyone should run five miles a day or people who go ballistic if someone eats hamburgers, or the people who think EVERYONE should drink only craft beer. By the way, not everyone was convinced that fasting and low-calorie diets were a good idea. One man had his assistant try it, and it made the poor guy

Flighty, fidgety, jerky and contumacious . . . weepy, irritable . . . [and] as unreliable as the dope-fiend. (*2)

Me. Um. Interesting. I guess some things never change, huh?

Myself: Yup. That about sums it up. Me: Plus, you sure better not try that kind of diet. You know how cranky you get when you're hungry and your blood sugar drops.

Myself: Heh heh. You got that right. I'd never make it on Survivor.

Me: Well, glad you stopped by. I was beginning to think you fell off a cliff or something.

Myself: Nope. Just working on this new book. Okay, gotta go. See you later!

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*1: Hereward Carrington, Vitality, Fasting and Nutrition (New York, 1908), p. 114; quoted in L. Margaret Barnett, "'Every Man His Own Physician': Dietetic Fads, 1890-1914," in The Science and Culture of Nutrition, 1840-1940, ed. Harmke Kamminga and Andrew Cunningham (Amsterdam: Rodopi, 1995): 169.

*2: Elbert Hubbard, "Fasting Fans," in Selected Writings of Elbert Hubbard (New York, 1922), 9:315; quoted in ibid.

Farmers to Follow On Twitter

A reader asked, via a comment on a previous post, how to find food-related folks on Twitter. I listed some of the hashtags that I know. (An eensy list, no doubt, relative to what's probably out there.) 

But today Zachary Cohen posted a link to an  amazing list of farmers on Twitter.

Wal-Mart Accelerates Move Toward "Ecological Intelligence"

A few weeks ago, I wrote a series of blog entries about Daniel Goleman's new book Ecological Intelligence.  

One of his main points, and the jumping-off place for my reflections on it, was his argument that it's possible to create product barcodes that tell consumers the true "ecological" cost of any given product. Only that, he argues, will prod consumers to begin thinking and acting green on the scale necessary to change the trajectory of climate change and ecological decline.

Apparently Wal-Mart agrees. The company announced that it will begin requiring all of its suppliers to include a full ecological history/cost analysis for all of its products, and in a form that consumers can use while they're standing in the store deciding what to buy.

The full report is in today's Wall Street Journal, but it's a subscription-only report, so I found this abbreviated version from another online sources here and here.

As Thomas Friedman point out in The World Is Flat, Wal-Mart isn't a store so much as it is a goods-delivery system, the largest one in the world. If it's prepared to demand that suppliers provide point-of-sale information on ecological costs/benefits/pricing, then we've taken one giant step toward the kind of "consumer revolution" that Goleman suggests is necessary.

Hey! I finally worked (an admittedly oblique) reference to the moon landing (fortieth anniversary coming right up) into my blog.

Historical Context for the Debate Over "Local" Food, Part 2 of 2

Part One

Now here we are in 2009, and people who are [justifiably] discontented with the nation’s food supply system want to return to "local" food production.  But that desire may, indeed, likely will, produce conflicts, big ones, and over more than just urban hen houses.

Consider the variant of that conflict that has been playing out for years in the midwest.  In the mid-twentieth century, meat packing moved out of the "stockyard cities," like Chicago, and into more isolated rural packing factories. Iowa, where I live, for example, is dotted with these packing plants, as are other midwestern states.

The rationale for these isolated packing facilities is that they are near or adjacent to the huge feedlots that provide the livestock for the plant. The proximity of the one to the other, and the relatively low cost of rural land are two factors that allow packers to produce meat with a low retail price --- ground beef, for example, that costs about two dollars a pound at the store.

But as home ownership rates have soared, especially since the 1980s, developers have converted more "farmland" to housing developments. Many of those developments sit just a few miles from giant feedlots, large packing houses, or, most often, both.

Result? Conflict: Homeowners want their 2500-square-foot houses, but when the wind is right, they’re reminded that just a few miles away stands a massive hog feedlot or beef packing plant. They demand that the meat operations move --- although no one can agree on just where those ought to go.

No surprise, of course, homeowners who complain about the proximity of these facilities are also the first to complain when the price of meat rises. They don’t seem to understand that those giant, rural operations, plus taxpayers’ agricultural subsidies, are what allow us to enjoy low-priced filets and bacon.

So --- the idea of "local food" is great, and I think many Americans would agree that the nation’s food system needs some, uh, readjustment. But if history is any judge, getting from here to there won’t be easy.

But hey! It’ll be fascinating to watch and take part in. You can tell your grandchildren: "I was there during the great food wars of the early 21st century."

In any case, there are many, many blogs, websites, and twitter users who are busy debating the logistics, ethics, and business of a "new" food system. If you're interested, seek them out and join the discussion.

In the Kitchen: Zucchini and Friends Risotto

More from life in my kitchen.

Risotto has a bad rap here in the U.S.: The Foodies treat it like it's some exotic gourmet trip, hard to make, requires Ultra-Foodie skills, etc.

Folks, it's peasant food, for fuck's sake. And I mean that in the best sense of the word. It's a way to cook inexpensive starch with whatever else happens to be at hand.

The only "trick" to risotto is that yes, it works best with certain kinds of rice. Conventional "white" Asian rice doesn't cut it.

The only other advice I'd give is: One, don't rush it. It should take about 20 minutes. And two, take it off the heat before you think you should.

Anyway, we had risotto tonight, and here's what I had and did: I cut a zucchini in half and then quartered one of the two pieces and then chopped that sort of fine. (I planned to cook it only in the risotto itself, so I didn't want huge pieces.)

Then I used a vegetable peeler to create some fine, narrow ribbons with the other half. (I wanted a mixture of textures.) I had some tiny "cherry" tomatoes on hand, so I quartered those. I chopped up a few sprigs of basil. Minced a bit of onion and a tiny bit of garlic. (Go easy on the garlic or it WILL take over the dish.)

Grated a bit of parmesan.

I heated about three cups of chicken stock. Put some olive oil in a ten-inch saute pan. When the oil was medium hot, I added the onion and cooked it a few minutes. I added a generous cup of arborio rice and the garlic and stirred that over the heat a few minutes.

I added a cup or so of stock and began cooking the rice.

This, I think, is where people lose track of what's going on. All you're doing is using the stock to cook the rice. This is not rocket science or brain surgery or Wall Street bailouts. You're cooking rice. Slowly. Over medium heat. Stirring it once in awhile.

When the rice has absorbed most of the liquid, add some more hot stock. Repeat the cook/stir process. Throw in some salt and pepper. When you're down to your last two hits of stock, add the zucchini. Cook and stir.

Again, you're allowing the heat of the stock to cook the zuke. Not rocket science. Although I will say that at this point, you should use a large fork to "stir" the rice, so that you can separate the grains and the zuke.

No large forks, you say? Whatsamatterwit you? Okay, use two or three chopsticks as stirring tools.

When you're down to the last hit of stock (you're tasting a few grains once in awhile, right? To check for doneness?), add the basil and the tomatoes and toss. Gently.

Add the parmesan and a couple of tablespoons of butter and toss gently.

While there's still plenty of liquid, turn off the flame or move the pan off the burner. The accumulated heat in the pan will keep things cooking. You want a creamy consistency at the end.

Then I put the rice into two bowls, set a large bowl of cherries on the table (finally! The cherries have arrived!!) and poured some white wine. And proceeded to stuff myself with rice and cherries. Oy. Life does not get much better than this.

Historical Context for the Debate Over "Local" Food, Part 1 of 2

Yet another newspaper article today about the growing conflicts over "urban" animals -- in this case, in Salem, Oregon, where some residents want to keep hens, and other residents don’t want the animals around. We’re going to see more conflicts like theses as the "local food" activists gather steam, focus, and energy. (*1)

Many Americans are trying to "take back" their food and the nation’s food system. Some demand better state and federal food regulations. But others are engaged in grassroots efforts by supporting farmers’ markets and by producing their own food at home.

So what’s all this got to do with the price of eggs? History, that’s what.

As I’ve noted here before, I’m writing a history of meat in America (see more here). The first two chapters of that book look at the debate over "urban meat" in the late 19th century. That debate centered on Americans' unhappiness with their "local" food systems: they didn't like them, and wanted them gone.

The short version is this: Urban growth accelerated significantly in the mid-nineenth century. As cities grew, so Americans’ ideas about how to manage those cities changed, most especially ideas about how to manage urban sanitation.

No surprise, urbanites began building centralized sewer and water systems, to name one example. But they also began to question the value of "local" food production, especially meat processing. If we could go back to a typical American city in, say, 1870, we’d find dozens of slaughterhouses.

Dozens. And they weren’t on the outskirts: they sat next to houses, churches, stores, and schools.

And yes, with all the odor, waste, and, well, filth, you might imagine, as well as the constant parade of animals through city streets. (The livestock usually arrived by rail, and then handlers herded them through the streets to various slaughterhouses and butcher shops.)

Americans decided that this centuries-old system of meat production was outdated, unsafe, and unsuited the needs of a modern, progressive people.

Over the next fifteen years, they debated, considered, and experimented with alternatives (the first two chapters of my book will examine that process.)

By the late 1880s, most cities had banned those local slaughterhouses (as well as things like backyard hen houses), and a new meat processing system had emerged: A handful of operators slaughtered and processed livestock at giant "packing" houses located in just a few cities -- most notably Chicago, but also in St. Louis, Omaha, Kansas City, and Fort Worth.

Americans applauded this change: The new system was healthier and safer, and so were the nation’s cities. Next: The twentieth-century battle over meat processing.

____________

*1: Don't take my word for it. There are a zillion blogs out there. But also check out the intense food-related activity on Twitter.  (Indeed, anyone who still thinks Twitter is for narcissists and teen-agers only needs to spend a few minutes just reading the food posts on Twitter. There’s a movement out there!) Use the Twitter search box and  type in, for example, #profood.