Chicago.
In an interesting1 new development in food science, scientists have developed a way to use bacteriophage viruses to keep lunch meat fresh. More specifically, they're using phages to destroy Listeria monocytogenes, which is not the sort of thing you want in your food. The upside is that there will be less potential for food poisoning from Listeria; the downside is that there could be some unintended consequences, like breeding resistant strains of the bacterium. The researchers claim that using a "cocktail" of several strains of phages will kill off all of the bacteria - meaning there'll be none left to evolve into anything more dangerous. How true that may be, no one knows.
Of course, this also means there could be a new ingredient to add to the end of the list for sliced meat products: "bacteriophage preparation". Well, it doesn't sound as terrifying as some of the other things2 that show up in processed foods. I mean, it's not as though everyone isn't covered in billions3 of phages right now, all doing whatever it is that viruses do to pass the time. If you're happily noshing at Subway on a regular basis, none of this can be any scarier than what's already a normal meal.
Speaking of eyebrow-raising human ingenuity, an LA Times article on human-powered vehicle (HPV) racing is well worth the read. It's a geek sport, a combination of engineering know-how, cycling skill, and no shortage of beyond-all-good-sense dedication. What about that combination isn't fascinating?
If that doesn't sound thrilling enough, consider these tidbits: the sport consists of bicycles that race at fifty-five miles per hour and above; the aerodynamic enclosures look like something out of Buck Rogers; and sometimes, in that desperate lunge for better speed, riders pedal vehicles without windshields, using cameras and video screens. These "camera bikes" have a strong tendency to crash and run objects over, since it's maddeningly difficult to steer a bicycle using a TV. Then again, the European speed record holder4 rides backwards and watches the course through a mirror.
And cable television hasn't turned this into a reality show yet?
* * * * *
1Meaning that I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing.
2Sodium stearol lactylate, anyone? How about some partially de-fatted cooked beef fatty tissue? Or, perhaps, a little mechanically separated meat? Okay, I'm done being gross now.
3Or maybe trillions. I have no idea. I'm just sure that the number involves many, many zeroes.
4Damjam Zabovnik, from Slovenia. 73 mph.
29 August 2006
28 August 2006
Beetles, The Tick, and more...
Chicago.
Well, the pests have triumphed in the garden. Mexican bean beetles have pretty much trashed all of the bean plants1. And not just ours; plants in all of the nearby plots have been reduced to leafless twigs. It's depressing, in no small part because I really enjoy having a good harvest of dried beans to tide me through the winter. There may be enough on the plants already for a few meals, but nothing like the haul I could have expected in a good year. I guess it's because they're so labor-intensive, but I haven't found many at the market come autumn. Quality, yes. Quantity, no.
I'll admit to a bit of an unusual love of beans, especially dried ones. No one else I know adores them to the degree I do. Not Sharon, my family, her family, our friends... but I'm okay with that. They're delicious, nigh invulnerable2, and all sorts of nutritious. The cooking time can be a downside, but a Crock-Pot or slow simmer in the oven - think Boston baked beans - takes care of that.
Shell beans are also good, but they aren't available for long, or from too many vendors. Like fresh peas, they're such a short-season treat that I tend to use them right away, and in the same sorts of simple dishes. Blanch, add some bacon, toss with pasta, add a bit of cheese. That sort of thing, where it's a mix of a few simple flavors and near-instant gratification.
Also in that category, enjoyed this past week: ripe blackberries; cheese-and-herb-stuffed fried squash blossoms3; sungold tomatoes right off the vine. Upcoming: raspberries, raspberries, raspberries.4
* * * * *
1This isn't the first time Eagle Heights has had a serious infestation. 25 years ago, when I was just a wee tyke, gardeners had all but given up on beans. Note to self for future gardening endeavors: look up sources for Pediobius foveolatus.
2Like the Tick. The big, blue superhero parody by Ben Edlund, who had both a short-lived cartoon series and an even-shorter-lived live-action series. But now - or, to be more specific, tomorrow - The Tick vs. Season One is finally available on DVD. "Spoon!"a, indeed. Or, even better - though it's part of another season - is the line from "Little Wooden Boy and the Belly of Love": "You can't fight crime with a macaroni duck!"b
I guess you had to be there. This was the episode where, in addition to the usual absurdities, we watched the Tick carve Little Wooden Boy from a two-by-four, a giant whale run cross-country, and Tick and Arthur get eaten by said whale. It also includes the linec "Isn't sanity a one-trick pony anyway? All you get is one trick: rational thinking! But when you're good and crazy... hoo hoo hoo! The sky's the limit!"
Which leads me to the always-enjoyable world of Fanatical Apathy, Adam Felber's satirical blog. As mentioned on the latest Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me! - listen to the Opening Panel Round - there's a new definition in the Urban Dictionary. A special sort of off-your-gourd, madcap optimism termed Katherine Harris crazy. Adam took this further in his latest riff on her wildly irrational antics.
When then leads to the reader comments. One of which points out a University of Minnesota study that finds atheists are the least-trusted minority in America. While I'm busy quoting cartoons, this calls for a line from Dr. Zoidberg: "Hooray! People are paying attention to me!"d These days, to be ranked lower than homosexuals means society's definitely decided you're hate-worthy. Half of America may not like homosexuality, but atheism's linked to "an array of moral indiscretions ranging from criminal behavior to rampant materialism and cultural elitism." 'Cause if I had to pick three phrases to best describe myself, that'd be them.
Man, it's good they didn't add in some additional gradations for Marx- and Nietzsche-sympathizerse, 'cause I'd be on the bottom of the bottom of the pile.f Okay, well, a smidge above my gay twin, but that's really picking nits.
aThe Tick's battle cry. The whole show's an exercise in joyful absurdity, so it's best to just accept the craziness and laugh.
bYou see, it was crafts night, Arthur had a date with Carmelita, and... oh, never mind. I swear it's funny in context.
cThis is one of those "lessons learned" lines that always came at the end of cheesy action cartoonsi, except that the Tick's make little to no sense. Like public service announcements as performed by Dadaists.
iIn the G.I. Joe cartoons, it was whatever preceded "Now you know, and knowing is half the battle!" The other half apparently involved color-coded lasers, explosions, and no one getting hurt. G.I. Joe: it's like our very own Bizarro world!
dLike when he said it, it's only funny because it's definitely not good.
eI pick Marx and Nietzsche because I've been reading Camus lately, and a bit caught my eye in The Rebel: he comments, with an anger and bitterness rarely seen in his writing, on how the Nazis and the Stalinists destroyed - at least in the popular mind - the brilliant philosophical work of these particular men, by bastardizing their ideas, taking the bits and pieces that suited them and applying just those. Like executive power with no checks and balances. Or religion (any one - and I should include the "lack of religion" groups here: the atheists, the agnostics, and all the subtle variationsi therein - or just call it "belief system") once it strays from rational thinking and moderation.
i(Man, we're deep in footnote-land here.) This, in part, is why there aren't a whole lot of well-known, organized atheist groups. There is one in the military, which, of all the major facets of American society, could very well be the least tolerant of diversity. Another reason, I think, is that people tend to get together over something they have in common. Not a lack of something. Atheists have other interests that keep them occupied, and tend to band together in reaction. Not action.
fBut, on the upside, I'm a "minority", something I'd never realized. I may not be a beautiful and unique snowflake, but I'm a lot closer than I'd realized. For what that's worth.
3Okay, so they take a little work, but they're fantastic, and when The Joy of Cooking says, "Serve right away", it's no joke. They're at perfection at that moment when they've just cooled enough that you don't burn the roof of your mouth.
4Red, orange and yellow, the raspberry rainbow available from Blue Skies. No blacks there, though. I'll have to ask why. They were the wild raspberry of my childhood.
Well, the pests have triumphed in the garden. Mexican bean beetles have pretty much trashed all of the bean plants1. And not just ours; plants in all of the nearby plots have been reduced to leafless twigs. It's depressing, in no small part because I really enjoy having a good harvest of dried beans to tide me through the winter. There may be enough on the plants already for a few meals, but nothing like the haul I could have expected in a good year. I guess it's because they're so labor-intensive, but I haven't found many at the market come autumn. Quality, yes. Quantity, no.
I'll admit to a bit of an unusual love of beans, especially dried ones. No one else I know adores them to the degree I do. Not Sharon, my family, her family, our friends... but I'm okay with that. They're delicious, nigh invulnerable2, and all sorts of nutritious. The cooking time can be a downside, but a Crock-Pot or slow simmer in the oven - think Boston baked beans - takes care of that.
Shell beans are also good, but they aren't available for long, or from too many vendors. Like fresh peas, they're such a short-season treat that I tend to use them right away, and in the same sorts of simple dishes. Blanch, add some bacon, toss with pasta, add a bit of cheese. That sort of thing, where it's a mix of a few simple flavors and near-instant gratification.
Also in that category, enjoyed this past week: ripe blackberries; cheese-and-herb-stuffed fried squash blossoms3; sungold tomatoes right off the vine. Upcoming: raspberries, raspberries, raspberries.4
* * * * *
1This isn't the first time Eagle Heights has had a serious infestation. 25 years ago, when I was just a wee tyke, gardeners had all but given up on beans. Note to self for future gardening endeavors: look up sources for Pediobius foveolatus.
2Like the Tick. The big, blue superhero parody by Ben Edlund, who had both a short-lived cartoon series and an even-shorter-lived live-action series. But now - or, to be more specific, tomorrow - The Tick vs. Season One is finally available on DVD. "Spoon!"a, indeed. Or, even better - though it's part of another season - is the line from "Little Wooden Boy and the Belly of Love": "You can't fight crime with a macaroni duck!"b
I guess you had to be there. This was the episode where, in addition to the usual absurdities, we watched the Tick carve Little Wooden Boy from a two-by-four, a giant whale run cross-country, and Tick and Arthur get eaten by said whale. It also includes the linec "Isn't sanity a one-trick pony anyway? All you get is one trick: rational thinking! But when you're good and crazy... hoo hoo hoo! The sky's the limit!"
Which leads me to the always-enjoyable world of Fanatical Apathy, Adam Felber's satirical blog. As mentioned on the latest Wait Wait... Don't Tell Me! - listen to the Opening Panel Round - there's a new definition in the Urban Dictionary. A special sort of off-your-gourd, madcap optimism termed Katherine Harris crazy. Adam took this further in his latest riff on her wildly irrational antics.
When then leads to the reader comments. One of which points out a University of Minnesota study that finds atheists are the least-trusted minority in America. While I'm busy quoting cartoons, this calls for a line from Dr. Zoidberg: "Hooray! People are paying attention to me!"d These days, to be ranked lower than homosexuals means society's definitely decided you're hate-worthy. Half of America may not like homosexuality, but atheism's linked to "an array of moral indiscretions ranging from criminal behavior to rampant materialism and cultural elitism." 'Cause if I had to pick three phrases to best describe myself, that'd be them.
Man, it's good they didn't add in some additional gradations for Marx- and Nietzsche-sympathizerse, 'cause I'd be on the bottom of the bottom of the pile.f Okay, well, a smidge above my gay twin, but that's really picking nits.
aThe Tick's battle cry. The whole show's an exercise in joyful absurdity, so it's best to just accept the craziness and laugh.
bYou see, it was crafts night, Arthur had a date with Carmelita, and... oh, never mind. I swear it's funny in context.
cThis is one of those "lessons learned" lines that always came at the end of cheesy action cartoonsi, except that the Tick's make little to no sense. Like public service announcements as performed by Dadaists.
iIn the G.I. Joe cartoons, it was whatever preceded "Now you know, and knowing is half the battle!" The other half apparently involved color-coded lasers, explosions, and no one getting hurt. G.I. Joe: it's like our very own Bizarro world!
dLike when he said it, it's only funny because it's definitely not good.
eI pick Marx and Nietzsche because I've been reading Camus lately, and a bit caught my eye in The Rebel: he comments, with an anger and bitterness rarely seen in his writing, on how the Nazis and the Stalinists destroyed - at least in the popular mind - the brilliant philosophical work of these particular men, by bastardizing their ideas, taking the bits and pieces that suited them and applying just those. Like executive power with no checks and balances. Or religion (any one - and I should include the "lack of religion" groups here: the atheists, the agnostics, and all the subtle variationsi therein - or just call it "belief system") once it strays from rational thinking and moderation.
i(Man, we're deep in footnote-land here.) This, in part, is why there aren't a whole lot of well-known, organized atheist groups. There is one in the military, which, of all the major facets of American society, could very well be the least tolerant of diversity. Another reason, I think, is that people tend to get together over something they have in common. Not a lack of something. Atheists have other interests that keep them occupied, and tend to band together in reaction. Not action.
fBut, on the upside, I'm a "minority", something I'd never realized. I may not be a beautiful and unique snowflake, but I'm a lot closer than I'd realized. For what that's worth.
3Okay, so they take a little work, but they're fantastic, and when The Joy of Cooking says, "Serve right away", it's no joke. They're at perfection at that moment when they've just cooled enough that you don't burn the roof of your mouth.
4Red, orange and yellow, the raspberry rainbow available from Blue Skies. No blacks there, though. I'll have to ask why. They were the wild raspberry of my childhood.
23 August 2006
Mathematical tools.
Madison.
I've been thinking about mathematics a fair bit1 lately. This is due, for the most part, to the fact that the New York Times noted the Fields Medal awards today. This is, in case you weren't up on your high-level scientific honors, the mathematical equivalent of a Nobel Prize. Though a number of prominent mathematicians have been awarded Nobel Prizes, it's always been for the application of their research to other fields, like Economics or Physics. The Nobel - with the exception of Literature - seems like awards for practical results, after a lifetime of work; the Fields Medal2 only goes to young researchers (under 40), and doesn't need to apply to anything particularly useful.
Useful to you and me, the average person, that is. Fields Medalist-level research is big, big stuff in the world of mathematics. Potentially physics, chemistry and other related fields, too.
The big deal this time around - Fields Medals only come once every four years - is that Grigory Perelman has officially solved the Poincaré conjecture. (Actually, he did it about three years ago, but the verification of his work has taken quite some time.) Without getting into the details3 of it, he's managed to solve a central, nagging problem in topology. Henri Poincaré posited it in 1904; a century later - using a novel combination of mathematical tools unavailable to Poincaré - a proof exists.
What caught my eye in all this was that the Poincaré conjecture is4 one of the Millennium Prize Problems, a group of seven unsolved classical mathematical problems. The Clay Mathematics Institute, at the turn of the millennium, set out seven one-million dollar prizes for published, peer-reviewed solutions to these problems. One example is the Navier-Stokes equations, which is used to describe fluid flow. I studied them in college. The equations have been around since the 1800s, and have been useful in all sorts of applications. The difficulty lies in the fact that no one really understands them, or can really use them without making a lot of assumptions5 along the way.
So, math is much more intense than most of us give it credit for. This probably applies to most fields of study, I suppose, but math gets a pretty bad rap all around. I think that much of this is due to the fact that the average brush with mathematics is boiled down to simple process. From grade school arithmetic through multivariable calculus and differential equations, nearly every math course6 I took in my years of school was based on solving problems, in search of an answer. Usually something numerical.
At the dentist's office7 yesterday, the hygienist commented that she really liked math. It was straightforward, she said, and you could always work backwards to check your answer. Even if I didn't have a mouthful of dental implements, I wouldn't have the heart to correct her. I used to think about it that way, which, when you're studying engineering, is a sufficient sort of understanding. Not exaclty enlightened, but practical enough. Since then, though, I've started to realize the complexity of the whole field.
I'm beginning to think of mathematics as a tool. A powerful one, like a good hammer. Everyone has some conception of a hammer; nearly everybody's used one at some point. It's something you'd expect to find in any toolbox.
For those who don't use one regularly, a hammer's a basic brunt-force type of object. You tap a nail in lightly, then try to whack it in with all your might, ideally avoiding any sort of thumb-crushing. Don't pay attention to how you're using it, and you'll end up with a sore arm and wrist. Every so often, a glancing blow bends the nail over, and you've got to start again. This is math for most of us. We'll use it when we have to, but we're no good at it, and it's probably a crappy hammer, anyway.
Really, though, a hammer takes some skill. Some practice. As simple a tool as it may be, it demands your respect. A skilled carpenter can sink nails much faster, much easier and with greater accuracy than most could with a pneumatic nail gun. The tool, more like an extension of the arm, can do a phenomenal amount of work with very little effort. Sure, building a house with hand tools takes a long time, but so does solving the Poincaré conjecture. Not many of us could really do either in our lives.
* * * * *
1Despite the fact that I'm married to a mathematician, and that a good number of my friends are mathematicians, I don't spend much of my day thinking about it. In fact, I tend to glaze over when the subject comes up.
2You could also think of it like the MacArthur Genius Grants. We like what you're doing; here's a pile of cash, no strings attached.
3Since I'm a bit fuzzy on the problem, in general. The details are far beyond me. "Coffee cups = donuts" is about as far into topology as I get.
4Was?
5The first case, if I recall correctly, was to assume that the fluid wasn't moving, in order to predict pressure changes at varying depths of a fluid. When nothing's moving, all sorts of terms become zero and drop out, which makes calculations much easier.
69th grade geometry had some very basic proof work in it, but even that was directed at a single right answer.
7Always remember to brush and floss regularly. Your dental hygienist will thank you.
I've been thinking about mathematics a fair bit1 lately. This is due, for the most part, to the fact that the New York Times noted the Fields Medal awards today. This is, in case you weren't up on your high-level scientific honors, the mathematical equivalent of a Nobel Prize. Though a number of prominent mathematicians have been awarded Nobel Prizes, it's always been for the application of their research to other fields, like Economics or Physics. The Nobel - with the exception of Literature - seems like awards for practical results, after a lifetime of work; the Fields Medal2 only goes to young researchers (under 40), and doesn't need to apply to anything particularly useful.
Useful to you and me, the average person, that is. Fields Medalist-level research is big, big stuff in the world of mathematics. Potentially physics, chemistry and other related fields, too.
The big deal this time around - Fields Medals only come once every four years - is that Grigory Perelman has officially solved the Poincaré conjecture. (Actually, he did it about three years ago, but the verification of his work has taken quite some time.) Without getting into the details3 of it, he's managed to solve a central, nagging problem in topology. Henri Poincaré posited it in 1904; a century later - using a novel combination of mathematical tools unavailable to Poincaré - a proof exists.
What caught my eye in all this was that the Poincaré conjecture is4 one of the Millennium Prize Problems, a group of seven unsolved classical mathematical problems. The Clay Mathematics Institute, at the turn of the millennium, set out seven one-million dollar prizes for published, peer-reviewed solutions to these problems. One example is the Navier-Stokes equations, which is used to describe fluid flow. I studied them in college. The equations have been around since the 1800s, and have been useful in all sorts of applications. The difficulty lies in the fact that no one really understands them, or can really use them without making a lot of assumptions5 along the way.
So, math is much more intense than most of us give it credit for. This probably applies to most fields of study, I suppose, but math gets a pretty bad rap all around. I think that much of this is due to the fact that the average brush with mathematics is boiled down to simple process. From grade school arithmetic through multivariable calculus and differential equations, nearly every math course6 I took in my years of school was based on solving problems, in search of an answer. Usually something numerical.
At the dentist's office7 yesterday, the hygienist commented that she really liked math. It was straightforward, she said, and you could always work backwards to check your answer. Even if I didn't have a mouthful of dental implements, I wouldn't have the heart to correct her. I used to think about it that way, which, when you're studying engineering, is a sufficient sort of understanding. Not exaclty enlightened, but practical enough. Since then, though, I've started to realize the complexity of the whole field.
I'm beginning to think of mathematics as a tool. A powerful one, like a good hammer. Everyone has some conception of a hammer; nearly everybody's used one at some point. It's something you'd expect to find in any toolbox.
For those who don't use one regularly, a hammer's a basic brunt-force type of object. You tap a nail in lightly, then try to whack it in with all your might, ideally avoiding any sort of thumb-crushing. Don't pay attention to how you're using it, and you'll end up with a sore arm and wrist. Every so often, a glancing blow bends the nail over, and you've got to start again. This is math for most of us. We'll use it when we have to, but we're no good at it, and it's probably a crappy hammer, anyway.
Really, though, a hammer takes some skill. Some practice. As simple a tool as it may be, it demands your respect. A skilled carpenter can sink nails much faster, much easier and with greater accuracy than most could with a pneumatic nail gun. The tool, more like an extension of the arm, can do a phenomenal amount of work with very little effort. Sure, building a house with hand tools takes a long time, but so does solving the Poincaré conjecture. Not many of us could really do either in our lives.
* * * * *
1Despite the fact that I'm married to a mathematician, and that a good number of my friends are mathematicians, I don't spend much of my day thinking about it. In fact, I tend to glaze over when the subject comes up.
2You could also think of it like the MacArthur Genius Grants. We like what you're doing; here's a pile of cash, no strings attached.
3Since I'm a bit fuzzy on the problem, in general. The details are far beyond me. "Coffee cups = donuts" is about as far into topology as I get.
4Was?
5The first case, if I recall correctly, was to assume that the fluid wasn't moving, in order to predict pressure changes at varying depths of a fluid. When nothing's moving, all sorts of terms become zero and drop out, which makes calculations much easier.
69th grade geometry had some very basic proof work in it, but even that was directed at a single right answer.
7Always remember to brush and floss regularly. Your dental hygienist will thank you.
17 August 2006
"This is weak!"
Chicago.
I'm reminded of the exchange in the second episode of Futurama, "The Series Has Landed," where the crew is watching the spectacularly lame "Goofy Gopher Revue."
On principle, that strikes me as an extremely precarious position to take. Like the current confusion over high-fructose corn syrup (HFCS), I think that the pro-GM industries are using low-level examples to lay the groundwork for public acceptance of something far more dangerous. They're trying to use this specific instance as a chance to sidestep the larger issue.
To explain, using a few parallels:
Problems with the above scenarios:
1You know, things like swatting at airplanes atop the Empire State Building, launching intercontinental ballistic missiles with nuclear payloads, or voting Libertarian. (I kid. As everyone knows, most grasses are staunch Republicans. It's the trees that tend to vote Libertarian.)
2Oh, right. Profits.
3I say this because I've never heard anyone make this argument. By framing the issue the right way, a little misinformation can go a long way.
4As in dead.
5Thanks, in part, to U.S. farm subsidies that drive down the price of corn to virtually nothing. For more detail, it's worth checking out Michael Pollan's website or his book, The Omnivore's Dilemma.
6Including, but not limited to: the use of massive amounts of nitrogen fertilizer and pesticides; devoting vast stretches of land to monocultures; expending tons of fossil fuels in fertilizer production, long-distance transport and industrial processing; etc.
7Yes, the majority of corn grown in vast fields across this nation is, for all intents and purposes, inedible. It's also nearly indestructible, which makes it a commodity, the first step on the way to turning a food into a food product.
8It's a scam. Since when does helping the poor, desperate and starving justify a massive PR campaign? See Pollan again. Check out his article on the the great yellow hype.
9'Conventional,' my foot. Several thousand years of human agriculture is organic by default, and the sudden introduction of industrial fertilizers and poisons gets labeled 'conventional' overnight? Talk about a marketing coup.
I'm reminded of the exchange in the second episode of Futurama, "The Series Has Landed," where the crew is watching the spectacularly lame "Goofy Gopher Revue."
FRY: This is weak!I say this because it seems that Monsanto can't keep its GM crops contained. Not that this should be any sort of a surprise. Though it's hard to imagine wild, Roundup-resistant bentgrass running amok and wreaking havoc1, there's a bigger principle at stake here. Given our (very) limited understanding of the complicated balance of ecology and the potential long-term impact of GM organisms, why are corporations like Monsanto charging ahead, willy-nilly2?
GOOFY GOPHER #1: Address all complaints to the Monsanto Corporation.
On principle, that strikes me as an extremely precarious position to take. Like the current confusion over high-fructose corn syrup (HFCS), I think that the pro-GM industries are using low-level examples to lay the groundwork for public acceptance of something far more dangerous. They're trying to use this specific instance as a chance to sidestep the larger issue.
To explain, using a few parallels:
- The made-up case3: radioactive materials.
"It's really hard to see your watch when it's dark, so some enterprising watchmakers have taken to adding radioactive radium to watch hands and dials to make them glow. Don't worry; it's entirely harmless. A little extra exposure to radiation won't do you any harm. You won't start to glow, grow extra arms, or suffer any of the spectacularly horrific consequences of radiation poisoning.
"The same thing goes for flying on a plane. Due to being higher in the atmosphere, with less of it to absorb solar radiation, you'll end up exposed to a few extra millirems for your time in the air. There's no danger, though. Even frequent flyers on cross-country trips don't need to worry. There's no evidence of increased cancer risk, so go ahead and fly the friendly skies! It's good for you and good for America!
"See, folks, radiation is a good thing. It helps you see your watch in movie theaters. It helps run power plants and submarines. And it's completely harmless, see? Why not offer to store some of our excess, harmless, radioactive waste in your community? In fact, it's for the good of the community!It's not like we'll be burying it under childrens' playgrounds! At least not right away!" - The HFCS case.
"Gee, it seems like a lot of folks have started to worry about high-fructose corn syrup these days. Some people are even claiming that it makes Americans obese. Something about it being linked to problematic cases of weight gain. Well, don't you worry, because recent scientific studies have determined that there's nothing about HFCS to make you more obese. It's as safe as sugar!
"You see, it's just corn syrup with some extra fructose. Fructose: the fruit sugar! And it comes from corn, an all-natural - all-American - plant source. Natural corn plus a natural sugar - what could be healthier than that? Besides that, it's cheaper than sugar, which means that you don't have to pay ten dollars for a 2-liter bottle of refreshing cola. And did we mention it's all-American? Buying products with HFCS is supporting America's heartland!" - The GMO case.
"There's been some hubbub in the news lately, all about genetically-modified organisms. It's not some mad scientist growing a colossal, man-eating, winged sharktopus. No, no. It's all about some plants. Just some new grass to help keep your neighborhood golf course's greens and fairways in tip-top shape! A nice, soft grass that's immune to Roundup weed killer, saving greenskeepers valuable time and effort.
"It turns out that a little bit of grass pollen and a few plants escaped from the test plot. Not many plants, at all. Just nine out of thousands, which is essentially zero. And even if a few of these get away, it's not even a very big deal. It's not like anybody's spraying Roundup out in the woods!
"Some people are saying that, sure, a little grass isn't such a problem, but what about GM corn, or GM potatoes? Well, you'll be happy to know that they don't grow naturally in this climate, so there's no way that they can escape into the wilderness! Not only that, but we've created them with genes that protect them from not just Roundup, but also from all sorts of pests. No longer do America's farmers need to fear losing their crops to an infestation of Colorado potato beetles. That means more reliable harvests, which means lower prices for you! We're feeding the world, right from the bread basket of America's heartland!"
Problems with the above scenarios:
- Nuclear waste in your backyard.
Nuclear waste - spent uranium fuel - is, of course, the sort of thing you want to keep as far from your person at all times as possible. The amount of radiation pouring off of those things is more than enough to make you seriously unwell.4 It's many, many orders of magnitude beyond a radium watch dial or a cross-country flight.
What's most alarming is that it keeps on being spectacularly dangerous for a maddeningly long time. The last estimate I saw was 200,000 years. It seems terribly presumptuous to think that we can keep something well-contained for that sort of length of time. The world - and human society - of 2,000 years ago is, to be honest, something that stretches the average imagination. One hundred times that, into the future, is a time beyond all reliable communication. Who's to say Yucca Mountain won't look like a great place for a children's playground sometime in the far future? - HCFS. It's a wonder ingredient, if you happen to be an industrial food-product manufacturer.
HCFS exists because regular corn syrup isn't as sweet as sugar. The extra fructose makes it just as sweet as sucrose, meaning it's a one-for-one swap, more or less, in industrial processing. Given that it's significantly cheaper5 than sugar, it's not hard to see why businesses have decided to make the switch.
Or, more accurately, why they don't even consider sugar in the first place.
True, there was a recent study that found no reason to believe that HFCS is some sort of obesity catalyst. Prior to that, some had raised concerns that it was even worse for you than its empty calories would suggest. Not true. It's just as bad as its empty calories suggest.
Aside from the ecological problems of a corn-based industry6, attempting to produce large amounts of our food from corn can't possibly be healthy. All of the processing necessary to make it edible7 must lose something in the shuffle. Even if corn were some sort of nutritional superfood, the long trip through the factories of ADM and Cargill ends up reducing it to simplified outputs. HCFS: sugar slurry.
This begins to hint at why HCFS is perceived as a fattening food ingredient. It's entirely empty calories, used in food processing as a cheap ingredient. It goes hand in hand with high levels of fat and sodium, all three being key in most junk foods, and is rarely seen in the company of genuinely nutritious items. You can't even buy it in a grocery store (by itself). And it's most prevalent in the cheapest stuff available: sodas, cookies, and all sorts of other things that would be fine as occasional small treats, but usually aren't. HCFS makes it affordable to be fat.
As a culture, we're obsessed with money. We don't pay much attention to the consequences of what we eat. Above all else, we love buzzwords and "magic bullet" solutions. So it's a surprise that cheap, calorie-laden food has given rise to an obesity epidemic? - GMO. Potentially as bad as sci-fi B-movie, only more subtle.
Roundup-proof grass may not be an earth-shattering danger, but it does raise a simple question: why? It's one thing when a biotech company tries to make a case for "golden rice"8 as providing some benefit to humanity, but better grass for golf courses? What could possibly be a more obvious money-making venture targeted to the wealthiest people in the world? GM grass for polo grounds, of course.
The grass itself probably won't cause any problems, but it's still muddling about with some very poorly-understood stuff. And there's no reason to believe that it won't spread, in time, all over the world. Various GM plants have been discovered in places far from where they've actually been planted, such as Japan, which has banned the cultivation of GM crops. These genes have a much higher chance of disseminating themselves than the biotech corporations are willing to admit.
This becomes a serious issue when it begins to affect the life cycles of other organisms. One example is the monarch butterfly, which feeds exclusively on milkweed leaves. If those leaves are dusted with GM corn pollen - pollen which carries the Bt insect toxin - the caterpillars die. Not only that, but the GM Bt toxin, unlike the naturally ocuring bacterial variety, doesn't break down quickly in sunlight. No one knows what happens when it builds up in the soil.
At the very least, it seems like a great way to speed the evolution of pest species. Bt-producing potatoes won't make the Colorado potato beetles go extinct; they'll simply evolve an immunity to that toxin, and that's one of the few good, organic ones available. Monsanto may be giving rise to Roundup-proof weeds, forcing them to develop some new poison to replace their current "magic bullet" product. It all seems to be pointing to the development of newer - potentially more toxic? - pesticides and herbicides to keep the machine of 'conventional' agriculture9 running.
And you can bet that Monsanto will be there to turn a profit.
1You know, things like swatting at airplanes atop the Empire State Building, launching intercontinental ballistic missiles with nuclear payloads, or voting Libertarian. (I kid. As everyone knows, most grasses are staunch Republicans. It's the trees that tend to vote Libertarian.)
2Oh, right. Profits.
3I say this because I've never heard anyone make this argument. By framing the issue the right way, a little misinformation can go a long way.
4As in dead.
5Thanks, in part, to U.S. farm subsidies that drive down the price of corn to virtually nothing. For more detail, it's worth checking out Michael Pollan's website or his book, The Omnivore's Dilemma.
6Including, but not limited to: the use of massive amounts of nitrogen fertilizer and pesticides; devoting vast stretches of land to monocultures; expending tons of fossil fuels in fertilizer production, long-distance transport and industrial processing; etc.
7Yes, the majority of corn grown in vast fields across this nation is, for all intents and purposes, inedible. It's also nearly indestructible, which makes it a commodity, the first step on the way to turning a food into a food product.
8It's a scam. Since when does helping the poor, desperate and starving justify a massive PR campaign? See Pollan again. Check out his article on the the great yellow hype.
9'Conventional,' my foot. Several thousand years of human agriculture is organic by default, and the sudden introduction of industrial fertilizers and poisons gets labeled 'conventional' overnight? Talk about a marketing coup.
15 August 2006
Still impressed by digital watches?
Chicago.
This is so depressing. (If you prefer, go ahead and get depressed by the accompanying graphic.)
I see two1 potential explanations for Americans' failure to grasp evolutionary theory:
1. Americans are scientifically illiterate. A few reasons to suppose this:
1Okay, three. The paper's authors could be making this up, just for kicks. If only that had the tiniest potential of really being true.
2This sort of logic is okay when arguing with four-year-olds. There's a reason - actually, lots of them - why evolution is the current scientific theory. For starters, there's the fact that it stands up to the scientific method approach of testing hypotheses and such.
3I'm counting mathematics in among the sciences. If I couldn't handle basic arithmetic - say, doubling a recipe or calculating a tip - I wouldn't consider it a funny, slightly self-deprecating thing to mention at parties. I'd put it up there with being unable to read. It's rare to find someone who's proud of being illiterate these days. Especially someone who doesn't appear to have a host of mental problems, as well.
4I use a shaving brush and soap, and I'd consider using a straight razor if I knew where to get one.
5Lrrr: "I recognize her slumping posture and hairy knuckles."
6Heck, the ones on the radio don't even need to wash up.
This is so depressing. (If you prefer, go ahead and get depressed by the accompanying graphic.)
I see two1 potential explanations for Americans' failure to grasp evolutionary theory:
1. Americans are scientifically illiterate. A few reasons to suppose this:
- Religious fundamentalism, in various splintery forms, has come back with alarming strength, attempting to replace science and rationality with various twists on "because I said so."2
- There's a strange aversion to understanding the sciences in this country, even among the well-educated. One can be well-versed in the arts and, somehow, wear scientific illiteracy as a badge of honor. Overall, there's a distinct current of anti-intellectualism these days, and the sciences seem to have it the worst.3
- Science - in light of the previous two points - has become a political issue. Not that this is the first time, of course. (See Galileo Galilei for a well-known example.)
- Religious fundamentalism and an irrational fear of science seem like the sort of abstract concepts a chimpanzee could handle. Perhaps also some of the more cunning monkeys.
- With the recent advances in electrolysis, shaving technology4, cosmetic surgery and related fields, your average gorilla or orangutan stands a fair chance of passing for human.5
- Have you looked around the internet? Monkeys on typewriters. In case you're short on handy examples, you might want to try the Weird Earl's archive on the Straight Dope website.
- I wouldn't be at all surprised to find out that the loudmouth, right-wing blowhards on radio and TV are actually well-groomed6 baboons. Loud, angry, prone to resorting to threats and violence to resolving conflicts? Sounds like baboons to me.
1Okay, three. The paper's authors could be making this up, just for kicks. If only that had the tiniest potential of really being true.
2This sort of logic is okay when arguing with four-year-olds. There's a reason - actually, lots of them - why evolution is the current scientific theory. For starters, there's the fact that it stands up to the scientific method approach of testing hypotheses and such.
3I'm counting mathematics in among the sciences. If I couldn't handle basic arithmetic - say, doubling a recipe or calculating a tip - I wouldn't consider it a funny, slightly self-deprecating thing to mention at parties. I'd put it up there with being unable to read. It's rare to find someone who's proud of being illiterate these days. Especially someone who doesn't appear to have a host of mental problems, as well.
4I use a shaving brush and soap, and I'd consider using a straight razor if I knew where to get one.
5Lrrr: "I recognize her slumping posture and hairy knuckles."
6Heck, the ones on the radio don't even need to wash up.
10 August 2006
REAP Recipes.
Madison.
Last night, I submitted my five recipes for the REAP Food For Thought Recipe Contest. I'd hoped to have more, but, between a busy summer and a minimum of Wisconsin-based great ideas, that's all I could manage. Now, in the spirit of filling this blog with semi-regular posts of marginally interesting stuff, here they are:
Banh mi ga (Vietnamese chicken sandwich)
Serves 6 to 8
Ingredients
Brined chicken:
1 whole chicken
2 cloves garlic, smashed
1 tsp. black peppercorns
4 c. water
1/2 c. salt
1/4 c. honey
high temperature oil, for searing
Chicken liver pate:
1 chicken liver
2 Tbsp. scallions, diced
1 serrano chilli, diced
3 Tbsp. butter
1 Tbsp. fresh herbs (parsley, cilantro, or basil), finely chopped
salt, to taste
ground black pepper, to taste
Pickled vegetables:
1/2 c. carrots, shredded
1/2 c. daikon radish, shredded
1/2 c. red bell pepper, diced
1/2 c. cucumber, seeded and thinly sliced
1 serrano pepper, thinly sliced
1/2 c. cider vinegar
1/2 c. water
1 Tbsp. salt
1 Tbsp. honey
1 clove garlic, smashed
six whole black peppercorns
Other sandwich ingredients:
2 baguette loaves
fresh herbs (parsley, cilantro, or basil), chopped, to taste
Directions
Pickles:
1. Make the pickles at least one day ahead. Place the garlic and peppercorns for the pickles in the bottom of a very clean glass pint jar. Mix together the vegetables (carrots, radish, pepper, cucumber) for pickling and pack into the jar, to within 1/2 inch of the top.
2. In a small saucepan, heat the vinegar, water, salt and honey just to the boil. Pour over the vegetables, just until everything is submerged. Place the lid on tightly and store in the refrigerator. The pickles should be ready in less than 24 hours.
Pate:
1. Prepare the pate at least two hours in advance; preferably a day ahead. In a small pan, melt 1/2 Tbsp. of butter over medium heat. Add the diced scallions and chillis and cook, stirring often, until softened. Place in a food processor.
2. Return the pan to the heat and add another 1/2 Tbsp. of butter. Cook the liver, 1-1/2 to 2 minutes per side, until firm but still pink inside. Add to the food processor with the chopped herbs and puree until smooth. While still running, add the remaining 2 Tbsp. of butter and again process until smooth.
3. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Store in the refrigerator, with plastic wrap pressed up against the surface of the pate. Allow at least two hours to firm up before using.
Brined chicken and sandwich assembly:
1. To prepare the brine, mix the water, salt, honey, garlic and peppercorns together in a saucepan. Bring to a boil, stirring to dissolve the salt and honey. When it reaches the boil, remove from the heat and allow to cool. (This is best done ahead of time and stored in the refrigerator.)
2. Remove the whole breasts and leg quarters from the chicken, being sure to keep the skin on. (Save the bones and remaining neck and giblets for stock.) Place the chicken pieces into the cool brine in a container just big enough to keep the pieces submerged. A heavy-duty resealable bag with the excess air squeezed out works very well. Allow the chicken to soak in the brine, in the refrigerator, for two hours.
3. Preheat the oven to 400°F. Remove the chicken pieces from the brine and pat dry with paper towels. Set a large pan, capable of holding all four chicken pieces, over high heat, and add a Tbsp. or so of oil. Sear the chicken on the skin side, then flip over, and place the whole pan, uncovered, in the oven. Roast for approximately 20 minutes, until the chicken is thoroughly cooked.
4. When the chicken is done cooking, place the baguettes in the oven for five to ten minutes to warm up and refresh the crust. Meanwhile, remove the skin from the chicken pieces and slice into thin strips. Slice the breasts across the grain, 1/8 to 1/4 thick. Shred the leg and thigh meat from the bones with your fingers or a pair of forks.
5. Slice the baguette into six-inch lengths, then along the length (but not all the way through), like an oversized hot dog bun.
6. Spread a thin layer of pate on the inside. Then add a layer of slices of breast meat, a thin layer of dark meat, about 2 Tbsp. of pickled vegetables, a few strips of crispy chicken skin, and then a hefty sprinkling of fresh herbs to taste. Serve immediately, while still warm.
Notes
When picking fresh herbs, go for the thai basil, if it's available. I love its anise-like flavor. A regular French baguette works best for the sandwiches, but sourdough is good, too. Sourdough, though tastier, can be tougher to eat, due to the intense crust.
Strawberry, cheese & black pepper crepe cake
Serves 12
Ingredients
Crepes:
1 c. whole wheat flour
1 c. milk
3/8 c. (6 Tbsp.) apple cider (or water)
4 large eggs
4 Tbsp. unsalted butter, melted, plus additional for cooking
3 Tbsp. maple syrup
1 tsp. salt
Filling:
2/3 c. strawberry jam
6 oz. fresh, soft sheep's or goat's milk cheese
2 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
Directions
1. In a food processor, mix together all of the crepe ingredients. Process until smooth. Pour the batter into a container with a pouring lip, cover in plastic wrap, and rest in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes, or up to 2 days.
2. While the batter is resting, mix together the filling ingredients until well combined. Set aside.
3. TO cook the crepes, set a pan, preferably non-stick, over medium heat. Coat lightly with butter and pour in about 3 Tbsp. of batter, rotating the pan to coat evenly. Once the top appears set, flip over and cook the second side until it browns lightly. Slide the finished crepe to a plate.
4. Before each additional crepe, re-butter the pan and stir the batter.
5. After laying down each crepe, spread approximately 1-1/2 Tbsp. of filling on top, then lay the next crepe on top. There should be about a sixteen layers, give or take.
6. Serve immediately, slicing the cake into wedges. Otherwise, you can refrigerate the cake and reheat in a 250°F oven until warm, about 15 minutes. You can serve as is, or with a little whipped cream or vanilla ice cream, if you like.
Lavender lamb
Serves 8 to 10
Ingredients
Roast lamb:
3-4 lb. boneless lamb shoulder or leg
3 cloves garlic, sliced into thin slivers
1/2 c. brown mustard
1 Tbsp. fresh lavender leaves, finely chopped
2 Tbsp. honey
2 lb. fingerling potatoes
kosher salt
olive or other cooking oil
Compound butter:
8 Tbsp. butter, softened (1 stick)
1 Tbsp. dried lavender flowers
1 tsp. fresh thyme
1 habanero pepper, seeded and minced
Directions
1. The compound butter can be prepared well ahead of the roast. Using a fork, mash the lavender, thyme and habanero pepper into the butter, so that everything appears evenly mixed. Roll into a cylinder using wax paper, and refrigerate or freeze until ready to use.
2. Preheat the oven to 300°F. Using a small, sharp knife, pierce the lamb shoulder all over, inserting slivers of garlic into the roast. Sprinkle the roast all over with salt. In a hot pan, sear the roast on all sides and set aside to mix together the mustard rub.
3. Mix together the mustard, lavender leaves and honey, and brush evenly over the surface of the roast. Tie the roast into a cylinder, set on a roasting rack in a pan, and slide into the oven.
4. Toss the potatoes with a tablespoon or two of olive oil and a thorough sprinkling of salt. After the roast has been in the oven for about an hour, arrange the potatoes around the roast in its pan, and return the roasting pan into the oven.
5. Roast until a thermometer inserted in the thickest part of the roast reads 130°F, roughly 2-1/2 hours or so, depending on size. Allow the roast to rest for fifteen to twenty minutes beneath a tent of foil before slicing.
6. To serve, slice the lamb thinly and arrange on plates. Top the lamb and potatoes with a half tablespoon or so of the compound butter, and deliver to the table before it all melts away.
Notes
Use ripe habanero peppers here. Bright orange or red, without any green. Not only will they have developed their floral aroma, but the heat level will have abated slightly. The goal here is to get some great flavor, not tear-inducing heat.
Sage & onion sausage gravy with chive biscuits
Serves 6
Ingredients
Sausage gravy:
1 lb. pork shoulder, cut into 1-inch cubes (or ground pork)
1/2 c. fresh onions, roughly chopped
2 Tbsp. fresh sage
8 g. (approx. 2 tsp.) kosher salt
1 Tbsp. freshly ground black pepper
3 Tbsp. cold apple cider (or water)
approx. 2 Tbsp. butter
4 Tbsp. flour
2-1/2 c. milk
Biscuits:
2 c. flour
2-1/2 tsp. baking powder
3/4 tsp. kosher salt
6 Tbsp. butter, cold, cut into pieces
3/4 c. cold milk, plus additional for brushing tops
1/4 c. chopped chives
1 Tbsp. chive seeds
Directions
For the sausage gravy:
Note: If you don't have a meat grinder, you can still make this with ground pork. Just chop the sage and onions finely before mixing with the pork. Skip the grinding step.
1. In a bowl, mix together the pork shoulder, onions, sage, salt and half the pepper. Toss to evenly distribute the ingredients. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and allow to rest in the refrigerator for at least two hours, or overnight.
2. Put the mix through a meat grinder, using the small die. With a mixer paddle attachment, or by hand, mix the ground meat until it comes together, about a minute. Add in the cold apple cider and continue mixing until all of the liquid has been absorbed and the mixture appears slightly sticky. Now is a good time to refrigerate the loose sausage and start making biscuits.
3. In a pan over medium heat, cook the loose sausage in a small amount of butter. (The sausage should release some of its own fat as it cooks. If using lean ground pork, you may want to use some extra butter or lard to compensate.) Break it up as it cooks, browning the meat on all sides. Once the sausage is cooked, remove it from the pan, but leave the cooking fat.
4. Melt the butter in the cooking fat. Once the butter's moisture has evaporated, stir in the flour to make a roux. Stir until the roux takes on a light brown tone.
5. Whisk the milk into the roux, being careful to break up any lumps. Add the remaining black pepper and bring to a boil. Boil the gravy for two minutes, then return the cooked sausage and any accumulated juices to the pan.
6. To serve, peel a biscuit in half, add a good dollop of sausage gravy over the bottom half, and set the biscuit's other half on top.
For the biscuits:
1. Preheat the oven to 425°F.
2. Blend the flour, salt, baking powder and chives thoroughly. Cut in the cold butter until the mixture resembles small peas.
3. Stir in the cold milk, just until the mixture comes together. Be careful not to overwork the batter. Roll out on a lightly floured board, to a roughly rectangular shape about 1/2" to 3/4" thick. Cut out biscuits approximately 3 inches by 3 inches and set on an ungreased baking sheet, allowing space between each biscuit.
4. Brush the top of each biscuit with milk and sprinkle with chive seeds. Bake in the oven for twelve minutes, or until golden brown. Allow to sit briefly on a cooling rack until cool enough to handle.
Notes
Chive seeds taste like oniony poppy seeds. They shake out of the dried flower heads pretty easily, ideally over a spread of paper towels. Even a small clump of chives can produce a wealth of seeds.
Picau ar y maen (Welsh cakes)
Makes about fifteen
Ingredients
115 g white flour
115 g whole wheat flour
115 g cold butter
1/2 tsp. salt
85 g sugar
1 tsp. baking powder
70 g fresh currants
1 large egg, lightly beaten
about 2 Tbsp. milk
butter, for cooking
Directions
1. Sift together the flours, baking powder and salt into a large bowl. Cut in the butter until the mixture resembles coarse breadcrumbs. Stir in the sugar.
2. Carefully fold in the currants, being as gentle as possible to avoid breaking them. A few are guaranteed to break open, but the more that stay intact, the easier it'll be to roll out later.
3. Add just enough milk to the dough to bring the dough together, mixing as little as possible.
4. Turn out onto a lightly floured surface and roll until about 1/4 inch thick, or about the thickness of a currant. Using a 2-1/2 inch biscuit cutter, cut out into rounds. Gather the scraps and roll out again, and cut additional rounds.
5. Cook on a lightly buttered griddle over medium heat, for about five minutes per side, or until golden brown. Set on a wire rack to cool.
6. While still warm, they're best served spread with a little butter and dusted with sugar. Those that aren't eaten right away can be stored in an airtight container, at room temperature, for several days.
Last night, I submitted my five recipes for the REAP Food For Thought Recipe Contest. I'd hoped to have more, but, between a busy summer and a minimum of Wisconsin-based great ideas, that's all I could manage. Now, in the spirit of filling this blog with semi-regular posts of marginally interesting stuff, here they are:
Banh mi ga (Vietnamese chicken sandwich)
Serves 6 to 8
Ingredients
Brined chicken:
1 whole chicken
2 cloves garlic, smashed
1 tsp. black peppercorns
4 c. water
1/2 c. salt
1/4 c. honey
high temperature oil, for searing
Chicken liver pate:
1 chicken liver
2 Tbsp. scallions, diced
1 serrano chilli, diced
3 Tbsp. butter
1 Tbsp. fresh herbs (parsley, cilantro, or basil), finely chopped
salt, to taste
ground black pepper, to taste
Pickled vegetables:
1/2 c. carrots, shredded
1/2 c. daikon radish, shredded
1/2 c. red bell pepper, diced
1/2 c. cucumber, seeded and thinly sliced
1 serrano pepper, thinly sliced
1/2 c. cider vinegar
1/2 c. water
1 Tbsp. salt
1 Tbsp. honey
1 clove garlic, smashed
six whole black peppercorns
Other sandwich ingredients:
2 baguette loaves
fresh herbs (parsley, cilantro, or basil), chopped, to taste
Directions
Pickles:
1. Make the pickles at least one day ahead. Place the garlic and peppercorns for the pickles in the bottom of a very clean glass pint jar. Mix together the vegetables (carrots, radish, pepper, cucumber) for pickling and pack into the jar, to within 1/2 inch of the top.
2. In a small saucepan, heat the vinegar, water, salt and honey just to the boil. Pour over the vegetables, just until everything is submerged. Place the lid on tightly and store in the refrigerator. The pickles should be ready in less than 24 hours.
Pate:
1. Prepare the pate at least two hours in advance; preferably a day ahead. In a small pan, melt 1/2 Tbsp. of butter over medium heat. Add the diced scallions and chillis and cook, stirring often, until softened. Place in a food processor.
2. Return the pan to the heat and add another 1/2 Tbsp. of butter. Cook the liver, 1-1/2 to 2 minutes per side, until firm but still pink inside. Add to the food processor with the chopped herbs and puree until smooth. While still running, add the remaining 2 Tbsp. of butter and again process until smooth.
3. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Store in the refrigerator, with plastic wrap pressed up against the surface of the pate. Allow at least two hours to firm up before using.
Brined chicken and sandwich assembly:
1. To prepare the brine, mix the water, salt, honey, garlic and peppercorns together in a saucepan. Bring to a boil, stirring to dissolve the salt and honey. When it reaches the boil, remove from the heat and allow to cool. (This is best done ahead of time and stored in the refrigerator.)
2. Remove the whole breasts and leg quarters from the chicken, being sure to keep the skin on. (Save the bones and remaining neck and giblets for stock.) Place the chicken pieces into the cool brine in a container just big enough to keep the pieces submerged. A heavy-duty resealable bag with the excess air squeezed out works very well. Allow the chicken to soak in the brine, in the refrigerator, for two hours.
3. Preheat the oven to 400°F. Remove the chicken pieces from the brine and pat dry with paper towels. Set a large pan, capable of holding all four chicken pieces, over high heat, and add a Tbsp. or so of oil. Sear the chicken on the skin side, then flip over, and place the whole pan, uncovered, in the oven. Roast for approximately 20 minutes, until the chicken is thoroughly cooked.
4. When the chicken is done cooking, place the baguettes in the oven for five to ten minutes to warm up and refresh the crust. Meanwhile, remove the skin from the chicken pieces and slice into thin strips. Slice the breasts across the grain, 1/8 to 1/4 thick. Shred the leg and thigh meat from the bones with your fingers or a pair of forks.
5. Slice the baguette into six-inch lengths, then along the length (but not all the way through), like an oversized hot dog bun.
6. Spread a thin layer of pate on the inside. Then add a layer of slices of breast meat, a thin layer of dark meat, about 2 Tbsp. of pickled vegetables, a few strips of crispy chicken skin, and then a hefty sprinkling of fresh herbs to taste. Serve immediately, while still warm.
Notes
When picking fresh herbs, go for the thai basil, if it's available. I love its anise-like flavor. A regular French baguette works best for the sandwiches, but sourdough is good, too. Sourdough, though tastier, can be tougher to eat, due to the intense crust.
Strawberry, cheese & black pepper crepe cake
Serves 12
Ingredients
Crepes:
1 c. whole wheat flour
1 c. milk
3/8 c. (6 Tbsp.) apple cider (or water)
4 large eggs
4 Tbsp. unsalted butter, melted, plus additional for cooking
3 Tbsp. maple syrup
1 tsp. salt
Filling:
2/3 c. strawberry jam
6 oz. fresh, soft sheep's or goat's milk cheese
2 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
Directions
1. In a food processor, mix together all of the crepe ingredients. Process until smooth. Pour the batter into a container with a pouring lip, cover in plastic wrap, and rest in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes, or up to 2 days.
2. While the batter is resting, mix together the filling ingredients until well combined. Set aside.
3. TO cook the crepes, set a pan, preferably non-stick, over medium heat. Coat lightly with butter and pour in about 3 Tbsp. of batter, rotating the pan to coat evenly. Once the top appears set, flip over and cook the second side until it browns lightly. Slide the finished crepe to a plate.
4. Before each additional crepe, re-butter the pan and stir the batter.
5. After laying down each crepe, spread approximately 1-1/2 Tbsp. of filling on top, then lay the next crepe on top. There should be about a sixteen layers, give or take.
6. Serve immediately, slicing the cake into wedges. Otherwise, you can refrigerate the cake and reheat in a 250°F oven until warm, about 15 minutes. You can serve as is, or with a little whipped cream or vanilla ice cream, if you like.
Lavender lamb
Serves 8 to 10
Ingredients
Roast lamb:
3-4 lb. boneless lamb shoulder or leg
3 cloves garlic, sliced into thin slivers
1/2 c. brown mustard
1 Tbsp. fresh lavender leaves, finely chopped
2 Tbsp. honey
2 lb. fingerling potatoes
kosher salt
olive or other cooking oil
Compound butter:
8 Tbsp. butter, softened (1 stick)
1 Tbsp. dried lavender flowers
1 tsp. fresh thyme
1 habanero pepper, seeded and minced
Directions
1. The compound butter can be prepared well ahead of the roast. Using a fork, mash the lavender, thyme and habanero pepper into the butter, so that everything appears evenly mixed. Roll into a cylinder using wax paper, and refrigerate or freeze until ready to use.
2. Preheat the oven to 300°F. Using a small, sharp knife, pierce the lamb shoulder all over, inserting slivers of garlic into the roast. Sprinkle the roast all over with salt. In a hot pan, sear the roast on all sides and set aside to mix together the mustard rub.
3. Mix together the mustard, lavender leaves and honey, and brush evenly over the surface of the roast. Tie the roast into a cylinder, set on a roasting rack in a pan, and slide into the oven.
4. Toss the potatoes with a tablespoon or two of olive oil and a thorough sprinkling of salt. After the roast has been in the oven for about an hour, arrange the potatoes around the roast in its pan, and return the roasting pan into the oven.
5. Roast until a thermometer inserted in the thickest part of the roast reads 130°F, roughly 2-1/2 hours or so, depending on size. Allow the roast to rest for fifteen to twenty minutes beneath a tent of foil before slicing.
6. To serve, slice the lamb thinly and arrange on plates. Top the lamb and potatoes with a half tablespoon or so of the compound butter, and deliver to the table before it all melts away.
Notes
Use ripe habanero peppers here. Bright orange or red, without any green. Not only will they have developed their floral aroma, but the heat level will have abated slightly. The goal here is to get some great flavor, not tear-inducing heat.
Sage & onion sausage gravy with chive biscuits
Serves 6
Ingredients
Sausage gravy:
1 lb. pork shoulder, cut into 1-inch cubes (or ground pork)
1/2 c. fresh onions, roughly chopped
2 Tbsp. fresh sage
8 g. (approx. 2 tsp.) kosher salt
1 Tbsp. freshly ground black pepper
3 Tbsp. cold apple cider (or water)
approx. 2 Tbsp. butter
4 Tbsp. flour
2-1/2 c. milk
Biscuits:
2 c. flour
2-1/2 tsp. baking powder
3/4 tsp. kosher salt
6 Tbsp. butter, cold, cut into pieces
3/4 c. cold milk, plus additional for brushing tops
1/4 c. chopped chives
1 Tbsp. chive seeds
Directions
For the sausage gravy:
Note: If you don't have a meat grinder, you can still make this with ground pork. Just chop the sage and onions finely before mixing with the pork. Skip the grinding step.
1. In a bowl, mix together the pork shoulder, onions, sage, salt and half the pepper. Toss to evenly distribute the ingredients. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and allow to rest in the refrigerator for at least two hours, or overnight.
2. Put the mix through a meat grinder, using the small die. With a mixer paddle attachment, or by hand, mix the ground meat until it comes together, about a minute. Add in the cold apple cider and continue mixing until all of the liquid has been absorbed and the mixture appears slightly sticky. Now is a good time to refrigerate the loose sausage and start making biscuits.
3. In a pan over medium heat, cook the loose sausage in a small amount of butter. (The sausage should release some of its own fat as it cooks. If using lean ground pork, you may want to use some extra butter or lard to compensate.) Break it up as it cooks, browning the meat on all sides. Once the sausage is cooked, remove it from the pan, but leave the cooking fat.
4. Melt the butter in the cooking fat. Once the butter's moisture has evaporated, stir in the flour to make a roux. Stir until the roux takes on a light brown tone.
5. Whisk the milk into the roux, being careful to break up any lumps. Add the remaining black pepper and bring to a boil. Boil the gravy for two minutes, then return the cooked sausage and any accumulated juices to the pan.
6. To serve, peel a biscuit in half, add a good dollop of sausage gravy over the bottom half, and set the biscuit's other half on top.
For the biscuits:
1. Preheat the oven to 425°F.
2. Blend the flour, salt, baking powder and chives thoroughly. Cut in the cold butter until the mixture resembles small peas.
3. Stir in the cold milk, just until the mixture comes together. Be careful not to overwork the batter. Roll out on a lightly floured board, to a roughly rectangular shape about 1/2" to 3/4" thick. Cut out biscuits approximately 3 inches by 3 inches and set on an ungreased baking sheet, allowing space between each biscuit.
4. Brush the top of each biscuit with milk and sprinkle with chive seeds. Bake in the oven for twelve minutes, or until golden brown. Allow to sit briefly on a cooling rack until cool enough to handle.
Notes
Chive seeds taste like oniony poppy seeds. They shake out of the dried flower heads pretty easily, ideally over a spread of paper towels. Even a small clump of chives can produce a wealth of seeds.
Picau ar y maen (Welsh cakes)
Makes about fifteen
Ingredients
115 g white flour
115 g whole wheat flour
115 g cold butter
1/2 tsp. salt
85 g sugar
1 tsp. baking powder
70 g fresh currants
1 large egg, lightly beaten
about 2 Tbsp. milk
butter, for cooking
Directions
1. Sift together the flours, baking powder and salt into a large bowl. Cut in the butter until the mixture resembles coarse breadcrumbs. Stir in the sugar.
2. Carefully fold in the currants, being as gentle as possible to avoid breaking them. A few are guaranteed to break open, but the more that stay intact, the easier it'll be to roll out later.
3. Add just enough milk to the dough to bring the dough together, mixing as little as possible.
4. Turn out onto a lightly floured surface and roll until about 1/4 inch thick, or about the thickness of a currant. Using a 2-1/2 inch biscuit cutter, cut out into rounds. Gather the scraps and roll out again, and cut additional rounds.
5. Cook on a lightly buttered griddle over medium heat, for about five minutes per side, or until golden brown. Set on a wire rack to cool.
6. While still warm, they're best served spread with a little butter and dusted with sugar. Those that aren't eaten right away can be stored in an airtight container, at room temperature, for several days.
07 August 2006
Jesse & Regina - married at last.
Madison.
Aaand... the last wedding of the summer is finally over. Jesse and Regina had their wedding last night, and it was a pleasure and a relief for everyone involved. A pleasure for the obvious reasons. A relief because all the planning and work is over, and everything seems to have gone right. Now they get to gear up for moving day, the annual Madison tradition.
I admit that I'm not too sorry that I'll be out of town.
There were a fair number of lessons to learn last night, as well as some interesting (and funny) moments. Such as:
1Real metal isn't angsty. There's never any assurance that it's good - I'll wager that most is pretty much just schlock - but distortion pedals and big amps do not a metal band make. Just like having tattoos and using power chords doesn't make you punk. Pop-punk is just pop.
Punk is the Minutemen recording in after-hours sessions after practicing all day, on used tape, so their albums would actually make money. For example.
2From the initial searing, to get a little of that Maillard flavor.
3Long gone, of course.
Aaand... the last wedding of the summer is finally over. Jesse and Regina had their wedding last night, and it was a pleasure and a relief for everyone involved. A pleasure for the obvious reasons. A relief because all the planning and work is over, and everything seems to have gone right. Now they get to gear up for moving day, the annual Madison tradition.
I admit that I'm not too sorry that I'll be out of town.
There were a fair number of lessons to learn last night, as well as some interesting (and funny) moments. Such as:
- When planning an outdoor wedding, it's good to be sure that your indoor facilities can accommodate comfortably in case of inclement weather. Fortunately, this worked out. Given the morning's gradual shift from thunderstorms and downpours to eventual sunshine, the set-up crew just put everything inside. Good weather rolled in for the festivities - and the photographs beforehand - but the ceremony and reception stayed indoors.
- When planning to use Olin-Turville Park for your next outing, be sure to see what's going on over at the Alliant Energy Center. If it's an outdoor concert featuring a series of loud, whiny, not-particularly-talented pseudo-metal1 bands, you may wish to find an alternate date. If that's not an option, your best bet is to shut the windows along the pavilion's west side and hope for a sudden, inexplicable generator failure to force the bands to play intimate, acoustic sets.
- The farmers' market is the place to get flowers. Though enormous - and necessitating the occasional shift to see the person across the table - the bouquets were eruptions of brilliant color, and a lively counterpoint to the all-white interior of the pavilion. I can't recall who provided them, except that he was Hmong and no one was sure how to spell his name.
- You can't get New Glarus beer in Minneapolis. John Neely laments this sad state of affairs. He's asked around, and it seems the only way to enjoy some Fat Squirrel in the twin cities is to haul it from Madison yourself.
- Good roast beef doesn't take much, and it will get you no end of praise. People kept complimenting Sharon and I on the food, to which I had to respond along the following lines:
- Telling us that we'd prepared a wonderful buffet: "Thanks, but we only made a portion of it. It was a team effort." This then prompted either a comment along that suggested we were too modest or one on something specific. Usually the roast beef.
- Commenting that I ought to consider a catering business: "Maybe one of these days. Thanks." Sounds tempting as a vaguely defined enterprise, but I don't think I have the chops for it.
- Gushing about the roast beef: "You can thank John and Dorothy. They raised the animal. I just heated it."
On that point, Neely mused on something that he'd heard somewhere recently. "You don't cook a good steak; you source a good steak."
I had to agree. Neely's point was that the quality of a steak depends almost exclusively on the animal it came from, especially since we tend to do little more to a good steak than add some salt and pepper before tossing it on the grill. Unless you do something to ruin it, you're looking at a piece of meat that's only as good as the animal it came from. And, since few of us have the opportunity to know the animals we're eating, it's best to learn who you can rely on to provide you with consistently good food. The top choice would be a good farmer or rancher; failing that, look for a good butcher shop.
Incidentally, the beef was amazingly good. I was a little wary of cooking it a day ahead and serving it cold, but the flavor, texture, and appearance were still top-notch. The slow-roasting process - somewhere between four and five hours - produced slices that were well-done on just the thinnest outer layer2, but a lovely medium-rare red throughout. Slicing the next day, they were still good and juicy. (Time to make a note to include that in my future entertaining repertoire.) - Telling us that we'd prepared a wonderful buffet: "Thanks, but we only made a portion of it. It was a team effort." This then prompted either a comment along that suggested we were too modest or one on something specific. Usually the roast beef.
- Speaking of food, the glories of the cold buffet on a hot summer day are not to be overlooked. Not only can everything be prepared ahead of time and kept on ice, but I wouldn't have wanted to eat anything hot. I even opted for beer over wine because there was more of it and it was colder. If we'd had any way to serve ice cream, we'd have been hailed as heroes.
- Jesse and Regina - with help from friends and family, but virtually no professionals - planned out the whole wedding. Just about everything reflected their individual tastes and personalities, and I feel that made it one of the most exciting and fun weddings I've ever been to. One of the biggest perks, I think was that everyone was willing to lend a hand at all times, knowing how much stress and trouble the whole process had been up until that point. We stuck around until the very end, cleaning and packing up, and there were plenty of helpers.
- Ord, Regina's mom, has a few photos of the last few of us, taking the last swigs from the open wine bottles before we poured them out. That moment summed up the whole day, as we toasted the happy couple3 to celebrate the success of the whole endeavor. It was the triumph of a kind of homespun happiness over the traditional, expected elegance.
1Real metal isn't angsty. There's never any assurance that it's good - I'll wager that most is pretty much just schlock - but distortion pedals and big amps do not a metal band make. Just like having tattoos and using power chords doesn't make you punk. Pop-punk is just pop.
Punk is the Minutemen recording in after-hours sessions after practicing all day, on used tape, so their albums would actually make money. For example.
2From the initial searing, to get a little of that Maillard flavor.
3Long gone, of course.
03 August 2006
This Is the Face of California Farming.
Chicago.
Yesterday's Los Angeles Times noted an interesting new ad campaign in Santa Monica. To celebrate the 25th anniversary of the Santa Monica Farmers Market, the city is plastering buses with the images of their local farmers, using the tagline "This Is the Face of California Farming." They may even be producing a booklet containing the best of the fifty photographs taken.
Yesterday's Los Angeles Times noted an interesting new ad campaign in Santa Monica. To celebrate the 25th anniversary of the Santa Monica Farmers Market, the city is plastering buses with the images of their local farmers, using the tagline "This Is the Face of California Farming." They may even be producing a booklet containing the best of the fifty photographs taken.
02 August 2006
"Homer no function beer well without."
Chicago.
I need to brew a new batch of beer. Soon. I've already passed the point where I might have had some overlap between batches; there are, at most, ten bottles of the ITMFA IPA left. The difficulty, of course, has been finding enough contiguous weekends without other, more serious commitments. Using my preferred brewing schedule, I need three weekends in a row without much else to do. This is further complicated by my at home/in Chicago work schedule, and now working at the market every other Saturday, so that it's not so simple to find five or more hours of open time.
This weekend's a no-go. Even if I could work it in around helping prep for Jesse and Regina, and the market, I'd be a wreck. That's a moot point, though, since Sharon and I'll be back in Pennsylvania visiting family next weekend. That means that the closest, best time to start would be Saturday, 26 August. Rack to the secondary fermenter the next Saturday, and bottle everything a week after that. The basement's at a good temperature for most ales - 66°F or so - and ought to remain relatively constant for some time.
The question, then, is what to make? Assuming a brew date of the 26th, it won't be drinkable (by my estimate) until the second week of October. Sure, it'll be carbonated by mid- to late-September, but I've found that it takes about five weeks in the bottle to allow the green quality1 to dissipate. With Halloween and Thanksgiving situated well within the prime consumption period, I'm tempted to make something special for the season. So far, I'm considering the following:
* * * * *
1Being a smell, it's nigh impossible to describe. 'Green beer' is unlike anything else in my experience, so I can't describe it in terms of something more familiar. I'd recommended that Jared pop open a bottle of his first batch after two weeks conditioning, and another each week after, so he could see what it was. At first, he thought something had gone funky, until I assured him it would disappear over the next month. Same thing happened to me the first time, except I didn't figure out what it was until sometime much later.
2Which means that it'll have to be canned pumpkin. On the one hand, I'd love to use something fresh and local, but the process is long and messy enough already. Besides, I grew up on pies made from Libby's pumpkin puree, and I'll admit that it's tough to find fresh squash to make a pie that richly pumpkin-y. In Downingtown, at least. Madison, and its wealth of farms, may have something better to offer.
3Talk about a maddeningly fine line. It's hard enough to estimate while cooking, but a complete crapshoot through the two-month beermaking process. It's also impossible to be sure what may happen to flavors through the fermentation process.
4Or Edward Gorey's Gashlycrumb Tinies. "N is for Neville, who died of ennui."
I need to brew a new batch of beer. Soon. I've already passed the point where I might have had some overlap between batches; there are, at most, ten bottles of the ITMFA IPA left. The difficulty, of course, has been finding enough contiguous weekends without other, more serious commitments. Using my preferred brewing schedule, I need three weekends in a row without much else to do. This is further complicated by my at home/in Chicago work schedule, and now working at the market every other Saturday, so that it's not so simple to find five or more hours of open time.
This weekend's a no-go. Even if I could work it in around helping prep for Jesse and Regina, and the market, I'd be a wreck. That's a moot point, though, since Sharon and I'll be back in Pennsylvania visiting family next weekend. That means that the closest, best time to start would be Saturday, 26 August. Rack to the secondary fermenter the next Saturday, and bottle everything a week after that. The basement's at a good temperature for most ales - 66°F or so - and ought to remain relatively constant for some time.
The question, then, is what to make? Assuming a brew date of the 26th, it won't be drinkable (by my estimate) until the second week of October. Sure, it'll be carbonated by mid- to late-September, but I've found that it takes about five weeks in the bottle to allow the green quality1 to dissipate. With Halloween and Thanksgiving situated well within the prime consumption period, I'm tempted to make something special for the season. So far, I'm considering the following:
- Pumpkin ale. This isn't a recognized style, per se, though there are a lot of examples out there. Pumpkin's a necessity2, of course, and it's well worth considering the "pumpkin pie spices": cinnamon, allspice, cloves, nutmeg and ginger. Nothing too intense, not so it feels like you're drinking liquid pie, but just enough to lend complexity.3 I think that this would call for an ale that's reddish-brown, but not opaque, with a higher alcohol content to extend the shelf life. This isn't an everyday beer, most likely. Maybe some brown sugar. A firm hop bitterness, without too much on the aroma. And a yeast that emphasizes the maltiness, but tends to a clean flavor profile.
- Chilli ale. I've been thinking on this one for a while, but I'm worried about having five gallons of undrinkable beer on my hands. There's the potential for a Halloween-themed beer, with devils or some such4, and the weather'd be getting into dark beer season. Though I'm sure I could eventually come up with a pale version of a chilli beer just right for summer barbecues, I'm quite confident that the higher alcohol, heavier body and more intense, malty flavors of a porter or stout would give a little more insurance against failure. Besides, I haven't done a real stout before.
- Irish red ale. Something with caramel and butterscotch-type flavors, more malt-intense than the pale ales I've done lately, but without getting into the rich, heavy, smoky qualities of the darkest beers. This would probably be the best option for a beer to match Thanksgiving dinner, and wouldn't make for a bad everyday beer, either. It also doesn't need to be as alcoholic as the previous two, since I wouldn't have to expect it to last as long. I would have to make sure to save enough for when my family comes to visit at Thanksgiving time, though...
* * * * *
1Being a smell, it's nigh impossible to describe. 'Green beer' is unlike anything else in my experience, so I can't describe it in terms of something more familiar. I'd recommended that Jared pop open a bottle of his first batch after two weeks conditioning, and another each week after, so he could see what it was. At first, he thought something had gone funky, until I assured him it would disappear over the next month. Same thing happened to me the first time, except I didn't figure out what it was until sometime much later.
2Which means that it'll have to be canned pumpkin. On the one hand, I'd love to use something fresh and local, but the process is long and messy enough already. Besides, I grew up on pies made from Libby's pumpkin puree, and I'll admit that it's tough to find fresh squash to make a pie that richly pumpkin-y. In Downingtown, at least. Madison, and its wealth of farms, may have something better to offer.
3Talk about a maddeningly fine line. It's hard enough to estimate while cooking, but a complete crapshoot through the two-month beermaking process. It's also impossible to be sure what may happen to flavors through the fermentation process.
4Or Edward Gorey's Gashlycrumb Tinies. "N is for Neville, who died of ennui."
01 August 2006
Some small thoughts.
Chicago.
A smattering of little thoughts are running about my head today, and in order to avoid going outside for as long as possible, I'll address each one in turn.1
Really?
I love reading the weekly Really? column in the New York Times' Science section; it's like a straightforward2 version of the Straight Dope. Each week, it refutes or reassures some claim of general common sense. This week, it's about keeping minor wounds moist, instead of dry. In particular, I was interested to note the bit about not applying antibiotic ointments. I presume that this means repeatedly. Though I make it a point to wash well whenever I cut myself, I've always considered an initial application of a topical antibiotic worthwhile. And it's good to know that my absent-minded habit of picking away old scabs isn't doing me any long-term damage.
Don't eat the Uni.
Frank Bruni, restaurant critic for the New York Times, generally raises some interesting points in his blog, but his new series of interviews with chefs looks especially enlightening. The first is with Rebecca Charles of Pearl Oyster Bar. She's down-to-earth, always a respectable trait, and I appreciate a number of her answers.
Yesterday, I successfully talked a coworker out of buying out-of-season strawberries, on the premise that they wouldn't taste very good. Of course, since she's may never have had good, fresh, ripe, local ones, she can only take my word for it. So, to back it up, I referred her to The Omnivore's Dilemma. I can probably make some points in addition to those that Pollan raises, but not much.
After that, I recalled that Pollan had written a short piece for Time magazine, entitled "Six Rules For Eating Wisely." It's a common sense - and amusing - approach to feeding yourself well. Or at least a little better. His rules:
Kathy's shirt.
This I should I have mentioned with the market stuff yesterday, but I forgot. Kathy finally got a shirt from John and Dorothy. See their newsletter for the story behind it. I can't recall exactly, now, but I think it's green, with yellow, lower-case lettering, and spells out "if i ate meat, this is the meat i'd eat". When your favorite beef and pork farmers have a vegetarian stumping for them, you know they're doing things right.
* * * * *
1I'm dawdling inside for several reasons: the weather outside is extremely hot and humid; the air conditioning is actually working in our building this week, which is a pleasant surprise; my apartment here has no air conditioning or cross-ventilation; and there's a Cubs game tonight, so I couldn't get on the northbound Red Line if I wanted to.
2As in less snarky, and generally not particularly humorous, but always containing a nugget or two worth remembering.
3The English can actually cook. Granted, not everything is great - and some of it is outright bad - but in capable hands, you can get some very excellent comfort food. Most of it also pairs very well with beer, and the British have an strong tradition of diverse and well-made ales. (The continued presence of which is attributable, in no small part, to CAMRA, the CAMpaign for Real Ale. In both the UK and the States.)
4I should point out that I don't drink milk. Though I love most dairy products, the taste of plain milk turns my stomach.
A smattering of little thoughts are running about my head today, and in order to avoid going outside for as long as possible, I'll address each one in turn.1
Really?
I love reading the weekly Really? column in the New York Times' Science section; it's like a straightforward2 version of the Straight Dope. Each week, it refutes or reassures some claim of general common sense. This week, it's about keeping minor wounds moist, instead of dry. In particular, I was interested to note the bit about not applying antibiotic ointments. I presume that this means repeatedly. Though I make it a point to wash well whenever I cut myself, I've always considered an initial application of a topical antibiotic worthwhile. And it's good to know that my absent-minded habit of picking away old scabs isn't doing me any long-term damage.
Don't eat the Uni.
Frank Bruni, restaurant critic for the New York Times, generally raises some interesting points in his blog, but his new series of interviews with chefs looks especially enlightening. The first is with Rebecca Charles of Pearl Oyster Bar. She's down-to-earth, always a respectable trait, and I appreciate a number of her answers.
- What significant meals does she remember? Rustic, English country food3 and a simple roast chicken with frites in Belgium. Having had the wondrous delight that is the real Belgian frite, I can understand.
- What's most underrated in the kitchen? Salt and pepper. Sometimes - especially in the summer, with all of the great produce available - everything just tastes best without any additional embellishments.
- What food can't she stand? Sea urchin. I have to concur. I tried it once - uni, sea urchin roe sushi - and hated it. It tasted like salty milk.4
Yesterday, I successfully talked a coworker out of buying out-of-season strawberries, on the premise that they wouldn't taste very good. Of course, since she's may never have had good, fresh, ripe, local ones, she can only take my word for it. So, to back it up, I referred her to The Omnivore's Dilemma. I can probably make some points in addition to those that Pollan raises, but not much.
After that, I recalled that Pollan had written a short piece for Time magazine, entitled "Six Rules For Eating Wisely." It's a common sense - and amusing - approach to feeding yourself well. Or at least a little better. His rules:
- "Don't eat anything your great-great-great grandmother wouldn't recognize as food." Generally, this means avoiding pre-packaged, processed stuff. Though we Americans don't have an established food culture - we have a whirling array of fad diets and "magic bullet" approaches - thinking like long-ago ancestors might help nudge us in a saner direction.
- "Avoid foods containing high-fructose corn syrup (HFCS)." There was a recent article in either the New York or Los Angeles Times that addressed the controversy over HFCS in foods. The problem with it, I think, was that it targeted that single ingredient, rather than treating it as an indicator. As Pollan points out, HFCS only shows up in highly-processed foods, the sort that are more "food product" than "food." Eliminating HFCS also helps reduce the sorts of things that come loaded with other questionable ingredients: lots of sodium, fat, extra sugar, etc.
- "Spend more, eat less." I try to take this approach, especially with the sorts of foods that should be special. Good meats come to mind as an example. Beer and wine, too; I'm comfortable paying extra to savor and enjoy something, rather than simply bolt it down like a commodity. When I've paid more for something, I'm more willing to take the time and effort to enjoy it.
- "Pay no heed to nutritional science or the health claims on packages." In our advertising-saturated culture, the "magic bullet" gets a lot of play. The only reason nutritional claims show up on cereal boxes is to help sell more of them. They're about as fair and balanced as Fox News.
- "Shop at the farmers' market." Oh, for so many reasons. They could fill a book.
- "How you eat is as important as what you eat." If eating is simply a sustaining activity, it becomes mindless. When it's a social endeavor, a ritualized event with meaning, it becomes something special. Something worth thinking upon.
Kathy's shirt.
This I should I have mentioned with the market stuff yesterday, but I forgot. Kathy finally got a shirt from John and Dorothy. See their newsletter for the story behind it. I can't recall exactly, now, but I think it's green, with yellow, lower-case lettering, and spells out "if i ate meat, this is the meat i'd eat". When your favorite beef and pork farmers have a vegetarian stumping for them, you know they're doing things right.
* * * * *
1I'm dawdling inside for several reasons: the weather outside is extremely hot and humid; the air conditioning is actually working in our building this week, which is a pleasant surprise; my apartment here has no air conditioning or cross-ventilation; and there's a Cubs game tonight, so I couldn't get on the northbound Red Line if I wanted to.
2As in less snarky, and generally not particularly humorous, but always containing a nugget or two worth remembering.
3The English can actually cook. Granted, not everything is great - and some of it is outright bad - but in capable hands, you can get some very excellent comfort food. Most of it also pairs very well with beer, and the British have an strong tradition of diverse and well-made ales. (The continued presence of which is attributable, in no small part, to CAMRA, the CAMpaign for Real Ale. In both the UK and the States.)
4I should point out that I don't drink milk. Though I love most dairy products, the taste of plain milk turns my stomach.
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