Slow Food speaking to me

Am reading this amazing book... well, am reading it between English mysteries, novels about the American West and early explorers in Florida, and the audio version of "Guns, Germs & Steel"...anyway, there's so much food for thought here, I can't read it straight through and must put it down and "digest" some of it (hey-hey).

But for instance, the early chapters are about corn. Am astonished to re-think corn as possibly a life form that is manipulating humans to it's own benefit. Did anyone else not know that corn is the only grain that cannot reproduce itself without human assistance? And look how we have accomodated! Corn hybridized to grow in all corners of North America! Corn fed animals that were never meant to eat corn, high fructose corn syrup in everything, vehicles powered by corn alcohol! We've cooperated! What exactly does corn have in mind for us?

The late, equally provoking chapters are about his excercise in creating a truly local meal in the San Francisco area, including hunting and gathering everything to be served. Interesting musings on the hunting and urban gathering experience (polluted abolone, chanterelle competition, facing down wild pigs & property rights re cherry trees). And who knew that one could gather yeast right out of city air?

All of this and then finding out that there were 60,000 people at the Slow Foods Nation (convention) where they say the huge public vegetable garden the city has put in front of city hall and my intentions to reconnect with the Dallas Slow Food chapter are energized by reading this declaration:

We, the undersigned, believe that a healthy food system is necessary to meet the urgent challenges of our time. Behind us stands a half-century of industrial food production, underwritten by cheap fossil fuels, abundant land and water resources, and a drive to maximize the global harvest of cheap calories. Ahead lie rising energy and food costs, a changing climate, declining water supplies, a growing population, and the paradox of widespread hunger and obesity.
These realities call for a radically different approach to food and agriculture. We believe that the food system must be reorganized on a foundation of health: for our communities, for people, for animals, and for the natural world. The quality of food, and not just its quantity, ought to guide our agriculture. The ways we grow, distribute, and prepare food should celebrate our various cultures and our shared humanity, providing not only sustenance, but justice, beauty and pleasure.
Governments have a duty to protect people from malnutrition, unsafe food, and exploitation, and to protect the land and water on which we depend from degradation. Individuals, producers, and organizations have a duty to create regional systems that can provide healthy food for their communities. We all have a duty to respect and honor the laborers of the land without whom we could not survive. The changes we call for here have begun, but the time has come to accelerate the transformation of our food and agriculture and make its benefits available to all.

Thinking about diversity

The main thing we've learned about gardening this year is that it's unpredictible (yeah yeah this is not new news to farmers). Last year the lack of rain made watering a tedious task and made harvests pitiful. This year too much rain (?) or too cool weather (?) or ineptitude of the gardeners (?) made harvests more pitiful. We arrived in Northern Michigan early this year (May 21) to get the garden in a couple of weeks early in hopes of an extra large English pea crop. We got zippo peas. The weeks of cool and rain made planting the premie baby heirloom tomatoes impossible so I nurtured them right into rotting and had to go buy hybrids. Next although the rain was great, the grass totally took over everything since BOTH my arms are too wimpy for much hoeing. Lost the green beans to weeds and grass. And to add insult to injury today when I went to check on the skimpy row of beets I had just painfully weeded and nurtured, I found them totally gone and a big-long-toed footprint providing evidence that some creature had enjoyed them recently.

HOWEVER, we're still getting more lettuce than we can eat or give away and the radishes were highly successful and somehow also extremely amusing. I forgot I had bought a variety of radish called "Easter Egg" and that's exactly what they look like. Mostly oval and 3-4 different colors. That's why I'm thinking about diversity of plant crops, species, life forms, whatever. Who knows what the next failure will be and the world needs alot of backup plans.

Celebrating burgers & clan

So this year the weather was gloriously perfect, everyone who had been hiding indoors because of the crummy June weather came out and most of them launched boats, cousin Donna and I had made two parades by noon and we had 25 of the clan for burgers in our front yard. Thank goodness the elders used to host lots of card parties so we have an inventory of rickety card tables and lovely applicade and embroidered linen clothes to go over them. Actually logistics is about all I did since I gave up control of the menu and asked for pot luck and Bob cooked the burgers. Predictably, narry a gourmet treat arrived, but not having to do much work was a good trade off and I could concentrate on my wine.

Staff of life

Noun 1. staff of life - food made from dough of flour or meal and usually raised with yeast or baking powder and then baked

Per my previous post about making bread, I am again amazed at the science and the miracle of elements changing form, especiallly with so little effort. And I found a breadmaker at the Salvation Army Store for $4.50...a shopping coup that somehow justifies alot of other questionable purchases. And it works! [It's the big box here, sitting next to the ice cream maker...another whole topic.]

Contrary to the elemental process described in a post below where everything composes itself slowly in an archaic iron pot, with the bread machine, you carefully layer in the ingredients (flour, salt, sugar, water, yeast) then push a button, the machine flashes some control panel lights and then things start thumping around and go on and off in mysterious sequences. But then voila, 3 hours later, you lift the lid and take out a loaf of perfect bread. In fact, it's really good bread and extremely hard not to cut into it immediately and/or stop at one piece. As a bonus, the kitchen smells really good for several hours. AND you can forget about it and it turns itself off and waits for you to come and get the loaf out when you're ready!

I think part of the attraction to making bread is knowing what exactly is inside something you are putting in your mouth. That rarely happens these days, and even something as elemental as fruit usually needs to have the pesticides washed off or the dirt scrubbed. God only knows where our mass produced meat has been. Our helper friend John who brought me a dozen eggs today from his own hens, just said that since it's been raining he has had to discard a bunch of eggs that got muddy from the hen's feet because you can't wash eggs since the shell if so porous it forces the dirt into the interior of the shell (who knew?).

So no wonder bread is the Staff of Life. Simple, pure, minimal ingredients. OK except for the fact that yeast is a living breathing thing that needs some TLC which is spooky. More later.

Not Cooking Still Eating

It's been 42 days since I broke my right arm in 3 places. 42 days of one-handedness and varying degrees of pain and discomfort. 42 days of not cooking and not caring all that much about food.

Although a couple of weeks ago - when the meals from friends and neighbors stopped coming - I did decide to try doing some assembly type meal preparation. I dragged a heavy skillet out with my left hand and turned on the flame with my left hand and threw some cherry tomatoes and already cut-up mushrooms into the same pan as some left over pasta all with my left hand. That felt dangerous enough to deter me for a few more days. Another time all by myself I boiled water for the rotini shells that came in the Annie's Mac and Cheese box but had to get help mixing in the powered sauce, which was humbling. That's the pitiful extent of the cooking I've done for the past 6 weeks.

One would think I would be down to skin and bones by now but not true. Athough I can confirm that pain does reduce the appetite, the best I can report is that maybe a few pounds have evaporated and my slothfulness has at least not led to a gain. When oh when will I get my food loving, cooking, cutting, slicing and dicing, party planning self back? [insert audio file here of long whining sound]

Dia de los Muertos

This holiday needs more food traditions for us Norto Americanos who have borrowed the holiday. My altar is up but I feel the need to serve a relevant meal, maybe invite friends over, like for all our other holidays. But I'm ignorant of what a good menu might be. Traditionally, you place food items on the home altar that were significant to the departed and I get that part. Hence, my miniature box of chocolate cherries for my Mother. But as far as I know about Mexican traditions, the food is whatever any family makes for themselves and relatives and/or carry with them to the cemetary for picnicing on the graves. I may need to start a personal tradition mixing cultures. Possibly pumpkin soup, unleavened flat bread, dessert with dark bitter chocolate cream pie. Oops, check this out and click on the really cool video about Traditions for alot more info about what Mexicans take to the altars and eat for DOTD:

http://www.azcentral.com/ent/dead/altar/

Sugar skulls, actually a non-food item that is commonly found on DOTD alters, while made from nothing but sugar and frosting, aren't really meant to be edible. It's an interesting contrast though: the sweetest thing we know (sugar) molded to evoke the most bitter (death). I recently read that a person is never fully satisfied with a meal until all of the essential tastes have been registered by the taste buds: sweet, bitter, sour, salty, astringent. One might say the same about life, and many have, especially the Buddhists. But I think the indigenous traditions understand this also. Hence the many pagan observances that recognize that life is sweetest when juxtaposed with death. That's what draws me to this holiday. It forces us to look at the facts straight on and eat, drink and make merry over them.

Same site as above has a nice history of the celebration and does give a recipe for Pan de Muerto http://www.azcentral.com/ent/dead/food/ although I think I'm inspired to make a trip to a Mexican bakery before I try it out at home.

Seeking anniversary food Up North

Right up until 7 pm we didn't have a plan for an anniversary dinner. The food horizon here at the Tip of the Mitt is pretty flat. We adore the pizza at Vivio's (best ever) but as we do that about every other week, it's not a special occasion trip. I'm kinda over the fried fish thing, plus I've perfected doing it at home now and we've been getting some really good fresh trout, so not much incentive. Everyplace else is pretty much the same. We were stumped until Bob suddenly suggested going to The Pier in Harbor Springs, someplace we hadn't been since the first year we spent together up here, 11 years ago when he was still trying to impress me.

It scored A+ overall. Even the 30 mile trip over there didn't seem too bad, except for my stomach growling. Harbor Springs is gorgeous in small doses - very heavy on the upscale cute thing - and especially in the late evening light with all the big expensive boats snuggled up to the street side harbor. Big crowd at The Pier, but we put out name on the list and settled in for a 45 minute wait at the bar where we found bench seating and snagged a slightly pouty waitress (OK, she was a C-) for drinks. I had my recent summer regular which has become gin and tonic but because of the ambiance, naturally asked for Bombay. Bob drank Killians Red so as not to have to prolong the discussion of dark beer options with she-who-must-not-be-aggravated-if-you-want-a-drink-sometime-tonight.

The older GQ guy with the pink pants and the Ralph Lauren blue sweater and his Botoxed wife who sat next to us had this yummy gooey looking shrimp thing so I asked the she-who if we could pleeeeeeease have one too (8:30 and no food yet). It was "Shrimpcargot" served in an escargot dish (bought on sale from a more uppity restaurant?), served with a little escargot fork, and totally yummy. Then we had patience for looking around the room and reveled in how well we fit in with the white collar "locals" here and at the same time have no problem hanging out at the local blue collar bar back in Topinabee.

Finally gave up on a table and had dinner at the bar. My morel crusted whitefish with spaghetti squash and mashed potatoes was perfect (and I say that rarely) due to crunchy topping (morels, really??) and steaming hot and sweet white fish interior. And Bob's veal scallopine was done exactly right as well, lightly crusty and with red cabbage on the side. It was all so not Northern Michigan cuisine. In fact, the whole adventure almost met Dallas culinery levels......maybe exceded even if we are giving points for scenery.