Hannah Wallace

TFT Interview: Malik Yakini of Detroit's Black Community Food Security Network

If you're paying attention to the urban agriculture scene in this country, you've no doubt read about Detroit—how its residents are turning vacant lots into community gardens and selling organic produce to Eastern Market and local restaurants. Leading the way is the Detroit Black Community Food Security Network (DBCFSN) and its D-town Farm, run by food justice advocate Malik Yakini.

I heard Yakini, a Detroit native, speak at a food justice conference a few months ago and liked him instantly. Sporting a colorful batik tunic and long dreds, he started his talk by admitting that he was starving—"I'm gonna go find a muffin so I can be food secure," he said, to a round of laughter. I was impressed by what he had to say about food security in his home town (controversially: maybe grocery stores aren't THE solution to food deserts) and the importance, especially in the African American community, of controlling the means of access to whole foods.

Intrigued, I interviewed Yakini last month for the Faster Times.

 

 

TFT Interview with Josh Viertel

 

When you hear the words Slow Food, do you conjure up a multi-course locavore dinner with wine pairings?  If so, think again. Over the past three years, Slow Food USA president Josh Viertel has hammered home the mission of Slow Food: it's about advocating for food that is good (healthy), clean (i.e. no pesticides), and fair (farmers and workers get paid a living wage). As Viertel makes it clear in this interview I did with him for my column at the Faster Times last week, Slow Food is at heart a social justice organization that's rallying members to be politically engaged, whether that's by taking up the $5 challenge or pressuring Congress for changes to the 2012 Food and Farm Bill. Taking pleasure in food—and in cooking—will always be inextricably linked to the organization's larger goal of ensuring that, "Everyone can eat food that is good for them, good for the environment and good for the people who grow and pick it." For inspiration, here's a video of a group of farmers who took the $5 challenge.

 

 

Farmers Film Week 9: The $5 Local Meal from cinnamon Kennedy on Vimeo.

Cleveland's Food Justice Hero: Councilman Joe Cimperman

The surprise darling of the Community Food Security Coalition conference last May was a little-known city councilman from Cleveland. He spoke fervently about his city, a city of flourishing community gardens, backyard bee hives and chicken coops, a city where all farmers’ markets accept food stamps, where schools get discounts for sourcing local food, and where both trans-fats and smoking on playgrounds are banned. His name? Joe Cimperman. A 4th term Democratic city councilman whose parents hail from Slovenia, Cimperman is a vocal advocate of community gardens, which create community and self-sufficiency. He told of coming together with community leaders, public health officials, doctors, and foundations to pass the Healthy Cleveland Initiative—a series of audacious policy goals that will improve the health of Clevelanders for years to come. (That is, if Ohio’s Republican-majority legislature doesn’t pre-emptively squash them.) He ended with this rallying cry: “Why are we in food policy? Because we want our friends to live longer!”

What are Cleveland’s secrets for becoming a food justice utopia? I recently interviewed Cimperman for the Faster Times to find out.   (My Q&As with food justice leaders can now also be read over at the fantastic sustainable food and agriculture blog CivilEats.org.)

 

TFT Interview with Debra Eschmeyer

Don't miss my latest interview with a food justice leader: FoodCorps program director (and organic vegetable farmer) Debra Eschmeyer.

here's a tease:

In every social justice movement, there’s a tension between the grassroots advocates who want immediate solutions, and elected officials, who inevitably compromise the movement’s ideals. The food justice movement is no different. But 31-year old Debra Eschmeyer has spent her career proving that you can (and must) marry idealism to political pragmatism. After growing up on a dairy farm in Ohio, Eschmeyer went to work on agriculture policy issues at the National Family Farm Coalition in D.C. Later, she was the spokesperson for the National Farm to School Network, which gets food from local farms into school cafeterias. At the same time, she served as a Kellogg Food & Society Fellow, a prestigious two-year fellowship that supports leaders who are working to create a healthier food system. As a Kellogg Fellow, Eschmeyer and several of her colleagues—including Curt Ellis (producer and director of King Corn) and Cecily Upton (a former staffer at Slow Food USA)—began cooking up an exciting new project: a national service organization that teaches public school students about food and nutrition...

the TFT Interview: Barbara Finnin of City Slicker Farms

Every Saturday on a sleepy side street in the industrial neighborhood of West Oakland you’ll see an unlikely site: a farm stand bursting with fresh, organic produce. Cabbage, collards, lettuce, spinach, carrots, beets, and cilantro spill out of oversized tin buckets; fresh eggs—from the hens who live not three yards away—are tucked in cartons, ready for sale. At first glance, this looks like your typical farmers’ market stand. Yet, look closer and you’ll see a bright yellow sign describing the farm’s unique sliding scale. If your unemployment check hasn’t come or “for whatever reason, cash is not flowing in” you should help yourself to veggies, no explanation needed. If you’re “Just Getting By”—money is tight and if it weren’t for this affordable farm stand you’d be searching for deals at Safeway—then you can pay the lower tier price. (A head of lettuce is $1.25; a bunch of carrots, .75 cents.) If you can afford to shop at Whole Foods or the Berkeley Farmers’ Market, you’re a “Sugar Mama” or “Sugar Daddy” and should pay the higher price. (Higher in this case is still reasonable: that same head of lettuce is $2; carrots are $1.) Eggs are priced at $2, $4, and $6 a dozen.

City Slicker Farms was founded ten years ago by Willow Rosenthal when she moved to West Oakland and discovered a dearth of fresh food. Residents without cars had no choice but to buy their groceries at corner stores or liquor stores—where produce, if it’s sold, is more expensive than it would be at a grocery store. But then, as now, this historically impoverished neighborhood didn’t have a single full-service grocery store. (Though it does have a small worker-owned co-op, and thanks to People’s Grocery founder Brahm Ahmadi, a larger grocery store is on the way.) With money borrowed from a friend, Rosenthal bought a vacant garbage-strewn lot on Center Street for $11,000 and worked with community members to create a lush garden. This small but fecund plot has since become City Slicker’s best known farm, home to the twice-weekly donation-based farm stand.

Today, City Slicker Farms is thriving: it has seven “farms” scattered around West Oakland that together yield nearly 10,000 pounds of produce a year. The small nonprofit—it has just three full-time staffers—was just was awarded a $4 million grant from California to buy a 1.4-acre plot of land, its largest farm yet. The organization also has a hugely popular backyard garden program—staff and volunteers build raised beds and provide seeds, seedlings, compost, and even hen coops (and hens) to low-income West Oakland residents so they can be self-sufficient, relying on the food they grow themselves.

Last month, I met with City Slicker’s Executive Director Barbara Finnin to talk about the challenges of farming on vacant lots, West Oaklanders’ love of collards, kale, and eggs, and the importance of “culturally- appropriate food” when building a just food system.

                              Barbara Finnin of City Slicker Farms

 

Tell me about the origin of City Slicker Farms.

The organization started around food access and community building. The folks that started City Slicker Farms lived here in West Oakland, and they were looking around and saying, “OK—where is the food access? There are corner stores, liquor stores. We know that they don’t provide the best food. It’s calorie sufficient and not nutrient dense. It’s really difficult to get produce.” So the idea was, “How can we build the community’s own capacity to grow food?”

We looked at the community’s assets. We had vacant land and we had plenty of folks here who had come from gardening and farming backgrounds. We work with a lot of people who have immigrated from the south, particularly African American folks, who gardened and farmed. So we have a lot of rich resources when it comes to knowledge.

Talk to me about City Slicker Farms’ two main programs. And what is the difference between a “market farm” and a community garden?

There is a crucial distinction. We have a community market farm program and a backyard garden program. The community market farm program is for small farms—1 acre or less—that are growing food for some kind of market. In this case, a farm stand. All the food that is harvested on Fridays at all the farms is distributed through a farm stand at donation-based prices.

You can see the community gardening philosophy in our backyard garden program. We’re meeting people where they are—at their homes—to grow their own food. I feel in all honesty that we can reach way more people that way. If all of our community market farms were community gardens, how many people would actually use them? Do they have time to walk down the street to garden?

People are more motivated when they garden at their own home. It’s also a great teaching tool. We work with grandmothers who are taking care of their grandkids all the time, so it’s a really great way to pass the knowledge down.

Recipients of backyard gardens can also sell their extra produce at the Center Street farm stand. Do a lot of people take advantage of that?

Not at all. They donate it to the farm stand or to others in the community. We’ll have neighbors swapping or people give it to family members. We advertise it: we’ll buy your produce. But most people want to give back or they want to swap.

West Oakland was and still is an industrial neighborhood—do you have to import soil?

It depends on the site. We test all the soil. But all of our locations are residentially zoned, so we don’t have to worry about industrial contaminants from old factories. We do find issues with lead, and we find that everywhere here because of old housing stock. Where houses burned down, there was lots of lead that accumulated into the soil. If there’s a low-to-medium level of lead, then we’ll build raised beds and import the soil.

When I was at Center Street Farm the other day, I heard a rumor that it’s going to be transformed into an orchard.

The foreclosures have affected us as well. We had been getting water from our neighbor, but that house got foreclosed upon, so we lost our access to water. Just to get a city water meter costs between $20,000 and $40,000, depending. It’s hard to rationalize spending that much when water doesn’t cost that much over time. Not to mention that we don’t have the funds to pay for it. We’ve been gardening there for 10 years and we wouldn’t even get close to $20,000 worth of water.

It’s intense to see the change: a site that was once abundant. Now we’re transitioning to an orchard and are wheeling in buckets of water from other neighbors. Once the trees are established, they won’t need ongoing water. We need more fruit anyway.

City Slickers was just awarded a $4 million grant. Where did it come from and what are you going to do with it?

It was from Proposition 84—a grant to get parks and recreation centers and parks into poor communities. We got this money to purchase land and construct a farm and park. It is very exciting, because, with the exception of Center Street Farm (which is owned by our founder, Willow), we don’t own any of the land we’re on—we’re land insecure. We’re basically at the will of whoever owns it. For instance, the owners of one vacant lot we were on wanted us to leave so they could turn it into a parking lot. It’s heartbreaking! People who work in urban farming and gardening deal with this all the time.

How big is the new plot—and where is it?

We’re hoping to buy a piece of land that is nearly an acre and a half—just down the street from Center Street on Peralta. Even though some of it will also be lawn, and a place for children to play, it’s definitely the biggest plot we’ll have—and we’ll be able to grow at least double what we’re growing now.

City Slicker Farms focuses on “high-yield” crops. Can you explain?

I think the best example is corn vs. collards. Think of Center Street Farm. If the whole thing was planted with collards, we’re going to get a higher yield than with corn. Meaning, each corn plant only gives you a certain number of ears. With collards you get more per plant and it’s ongoing. They’re more like perennials. So you can harvest from it, pulling leaves from the outside, and then the plant will keep giving you more. We have to think in those terms because we don’t have that much land.

When you’re planning crops, do you take into account nutrient density?

We do. So we look at yields, nutrient density and how easy it is to grow and harvest. For instance, if we did all berries, they are very difficult to harvest. So we have more fruiting trees instead.

Do you consider the heritage of people in the neighborhood, as well?

Every year we survey folks. We’re not going to grow things that people don’t want to eat. So we ask everybody, are we getting you what you need? Is there something you’re not seeing? People want to see more fruit.

What sells out at the farm stand?

Cooking greens and eggs. Collards are probably the most popular, then kale. Kale is tied with mustard greens. People also like chard, but it’s not as popular as collards or kale.

How many backyard gardens does City Slicker plant a year, and would you say that most residents stick with it?

Currently we have 100 backyard gardeners in our program. When someone enrolls in our program, we help them build a garden and partner them with a mentor who checks in on them four times a year for a two-year period. Since the backyard garden program launched in 2005, we’ve planted 170 gardens.

We ask people what they want to grow, where they want to grow it. And then on a Saturday we come and build a garden with the family—we ask them to invite friends and family or a neighbor. If we know there’s another backyard garden family near there, we’ll invite them over as well, it’s all about community building.

There’s an assumption out there that low-income folks don’t want to eat healthy foods—that those of us who can afford to eat fresh, organic produce are pushing our values onto a community that doesn’t share them. What do you say to that?

I want to start with this: America has a problem. Low-income people don’t have the problem. It’s everyone. In most places, it’s easier to get fast food then it is to get fresh, healthy produce.

Although food deserts aren’t everywhere.

But there are McDonalds everywhere. We’re talking about actual choice here. People don’t have real choice or real options. People select our program because they want real choice and options for healthy food in their neighborhood.

This idea of, “Let’s help those low-income people eat better” is elitist. I say, “No, let’s help everybody eat better.” The real barrier is access. And real choice.

And once the playing fields are leveled and there is affordability and access, City Slicker Farms doesn’t need to push the produce?

We don’t push the agenda. Our programs exist and people self-select into them. I think that’s really important. We’re here to normalize food and the act of gardening and get young children seeing it and becoming a part of it.

If you’re used to cereal that’s fortified, that’s food. Say you’re not used to having fruit for breakfast. So if you want to normalize food like berries and fruit, then you have it in abundance in your home garden or neighborhood and you’re eating it. That’s huge! It becomes part of your environment.

I’m not here to bang on your door and say, “eat healthily!” People know that already. And I think that it would be very insulting to a low-income person, “Oh, you don’t know how to eat healthily.” Instead, we should be asking, “Do you have healthy food in your neighborhood or do you want to learn about preparing healthy food or do you want to share with others how you prepare healthy food?”

Right. It’s not like anyone is claiming to have a perfectly wholesome diet. The other day when I was at Center Street Farm, some neighborhood kids pitched in with the weeding. Later in the day, they walked by eating Cheetos. It’s hard not to be disappointed. But at the same time, who doesn’t have a Cheeto or Oreo occasionally?

Look: I love donuts. I loooove donuts. I want to be real about this. And the real is this: we are surrounded by junk food. Everybody has junk food. It’s pervasive. It’s about harm reduction in my mind. Let’s reduce harm.

We’re not going for perfection. That’s what splinters groups and sabotages relationships. Again, if all you had were Cheetos, that’s one thing. But now you have Cheetos and you have collards. You have Cheetos and Plums. That’s better.

One of the challenges of eating fresh produce, of course, is finding the time to cook it. (And knowing how to cook.) City Slickers does a lot of farming education, but do you do any cooking education?

We don’t do a lot. People’s Grocery and OBUGS do more of that—we don’t want to replicate services. OBUGS will send Chef Mo to the farm stand at Center Street, and he’ll do some cooking demos. They were popular: smelling cooking food—that always draws people in.

We do share residents’ recipes. All the healthy recipes in our West Oakland Healthy Eating Guide are from folks in the neighborhood. Or we’ll photocopy a recipe and have it at the farm stand. We did that at Thanksgiving.

Do a lot of kids get involved at the market farms?

Center Street probably has the most action when it comes to kids. Chickens help.

At Fitzgerald and Union Plaza park we’d really like to get more youth involvement. We’re working with the City of Oakland on shared programming and will be giving stipends to youth to work there, so it becomes more of a youth hangout.

Have you ever had a kid who has volunteered and then become a formal apprentice?

We’ve tried. I’ll be very honest and say that our apprenticeship positions tend to be people who come from privilege. It’s a big risk to go through our program—and be like, “do I have to leave my neighborhood to become an urban farmer? Where is that job besides at City Slicker Farms?” OK, there are landscape jobs, or you could work at a nursery. But there aren’t that many jobs in this arena in the city. Though it’s changing. More and more people from the neighborhood are interested in gardening. So in the beginning, we attracted the type of youth who would go WWOOFing (World Wide Opportunities on Organic Farms), who had had other farm apprenticeships. We’d like to do something along the lines of Americorps, where we recruit folks from the community and give them stipends but they’re also provided with an education voucher and job training skills.

What is the apprenticeship stipend?

The stipend is $500 a month. We also provide housing and pay all utilities, including Internet.

You do all this with only five staff members—two of whom are part-time—and four apprentices. So, when you get the grant $4 million grant, will you be able to scale up the staff?

This is the beauty and downfall of the grant—people are like, “you have $4 million—you’re doing great!” But the money does not go to programming or operations. It’s for the sale and construction, and the pre-construction. So I could hire a temporary person to run the construction, but it’s not for staff.

I’m hoping to get that out loud and clear. We need to double our budget over the next few years to meet the new demands.

What’s your definition of food justice?

It’s so long! The idea of food justice to me is that everyone has equal access to fresh, healthy, affordable food that’s culturally appropriate. Meaning this is the food that I want to eat, not that someone is telling me I’m supposed to eat. This is based on peoples’ food traditions.

Food justice also means that the people in the food chain are getting good paying jobs and they’re not in harm’s way: meaning working near pesticides and herbicides and such.

Food justice also means that the land we’re using is well taken care of. So what kind of practices are we using in our farming? Are we actually adding to the health of the earth and not taking away from it? Food justice is being able to provide jobs.

It is also very much calling into play that we don’t have a just food system now. The current reality is that if you’re in a low-income community of color, you don’t have equal access to fresh, healthy food. The food in your community isn’t health-promoting. There’s probably a lot of other stressors in your neighborhood like pollution, industry. So food justice means calling out the bad—institutional racism and class inequalities—and then fighting to ensure that we all have equal access to health-promoting food.

I’m particularly interested in the culturally appropriate part. Fried chicken could be culturally appropriate. Or Popeye’s for that matter. So is that undermining a larger food justice goal? Most food deserts are full of this kind of fast, unhealthy food.

It’s complicated because if I have fried chicken sometimes, that’s fine. If I have fried chicken from Popeye’s all the time because that’s all I have, that’s different. It goes back to choice and it goes back to harm reduction.

When my grandma cooked with lard, it wasn’t that big of a deal because it was all fresh food. And you weren’t cooking with lard all the time. That’s also what you had. And you had the balance of the fresh food from the garden, the healthy chicken you were getting that weren’t full of antibiotics.

And I don’t think it does much good to abolish certain foods. Whole milk is one of my culturally appropriate foods. But at public schools across the country, whole milk has been banned from cafeterias in the name of health. As if our kids are getting fat from whole milk!

Yeah, that’s not where our problem is. I totally agree. I also want to get back to the cultural appropriateness. I want to use myself as an example: I grew up with casseroles. In those casseroles are things like chicken, tuna, noodles and vegetables. I could have those ingredients be more healthy or less healthy than others. But it’s still the idea that that’ s what I grew up with, that’s what I’m used to. That’s what I want. It’s comforting and I can find healthy fresh ways of preparing that food.

What do you say to the naysayers who say about urban agriculture, “That’s great, but it won’t feed the whole city.”

We believe that urban agriculture makes a difference. We’re very realistic. We’re growing produce and eggs. We’re not growing field crops. We’re not growing wheat. This is a complement. And it’s about normalizing fresh fruit and vegetables. You see Cheetos, but you also see this.

This interview first appeared on the Faster Times.

Food Justice Movement Leaders @ the Faster Times

One of my New Year's resolutions (in addition to learning how to darn socks and taking a CPR class) was to write more regularly for my column at the Faster Times. I started small, re-launching my "Friday round-ups"—succinct summaries of the week's most provocative food politics gossip.

Here are the last few, in case you've missed them: 

• Joel Berg's Fridge, South L.A. Bans (new) Fast Food, and Walmart Joins Let's Move

• Policy Level Changes vs. Grassroots Initiatives to Transform Food Economies

•  And my favorite, the Aspartame Coverup, Elitist Foodies Suck, and Obama Approves GMO Beets

I've also been publishing a series of interviews with leaders of this country's food justice movement. A few weeks ago, I talked to Michel Nischan, founder of Wholesome Wave (the organization that is—among other things—encouraging low-income families to buy fresh produce by doubling the value of food stamps at farmers' markets.)  I also interviewed Nikki Henderson, the new executive director of People's Grocery in West Oakland. People's Grocery provides subsidized CSA shares to West Oakland residents, partners with a local hospital to offer nutrition education workshops, and is working with the community to grow the food justice movement in West Oakland from the ground up. Stay tuned for an interview with Barbara Finnin, executive director of City Slicker Farms.

Do you know any food justice leaders who I should know about? Please e-mail me at hannahmwallace at gmail (or post a comment below) and I'll do my best to cover them here.

 

Michel Nischan and Wholesome Wave

When I talk to Slow Foodists, locavores, and leaders of this country’s sustainable food movement about the need to ensure that fresh, seasonal produce is accessible and affordable to low-income families, they often reply that farmers’ markets universally accept food stamps. That used to be true. But ever since the advent of the Electronic Benefits Transfer (EBT) card in 1999 (a debit card that replaced paper food stamps nationally) many farmers stopped accepting food stamps because they couldn’t afford to buy a wireless EBT machine (they cost around $1000). As a result, today only 21% of the country’s farmers’ markets accept food stamps, according to the Community Food Security Coalition. (Food stamps, by the way, are now known as SNAP benefits, which stands for the none-to-snappy Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program.)

Fortunately, there are many local and national efforts afoot to change this—and to expand the number of low-income shoppers who frequent the markets that do accept SNAP benefits. One of the most successful of these efforts is being led by Wholesome Wave, a nonprofit that has been fanning out across the country with its Double Value Coupon Program, doubling the value of SNAP benefits used at participating farmers’ markets. If you’re on SNAP, and you plan to spend $10 at one of these markets, Wholesome Wave will match your $10 so you’ll have a total of $20 to spend on fresh produce.

Wholesome Wave’s goal is to make fresh fruits and vegetables more affordable while at the same time supporting struggling small-scale farmers. Ultimately, Wholesome Wave would like to see the Federal government divert some of the $110 billion that’s annually allocated for food assistance programs such as SNAP and Women, Infant, and Children (WIC) away from processed foods and to healthier, local sources of food.

I spoke to Wholesome Wave founder and CEO Michel Nischan (also a chef and author of the cookbook Sustainably Delicious) about the misconception that only affluent people shop at farmers’ markets, how incentive programs can alter purchasing habits, and why it’s vital for the sustainable food movement to care about food justice.

Wholesome Wave founder Michel Nischan

Let’s talk about how Wholesome Wave works. Do you partner with food justice nonprofits or with farmers’ markets?

We partner with nonprofits. If our Double Value Coupon Program is to be successful, we have to be able to identify who is doing similar work on the ground because they are passionate about it—their mission and their values are to do outreach on food justice, food equity, and so on.

These nonprofits are already working at farmers’ markets and have established a relationship in the community. And because of their vision they understand the importance of gathering the data.

Our web site says we have 160 participating farmers’ markets, but I believe it’s closer to 170. Our program partners have recently added markets in Kentucky and Tennessee.

What happens when people are given incentive to buy fruits and vegetables?

A lot of people say that low-income folks don’t want fresh, real food. Our program debunks that. So far, anecdotal evidence from our Double Value Coupon Program strongly indicates that there is demand for healthier food. (Hard data will be available mid-February.)

Access is the least important A word. It’s a big one—there are many places where access doesn’t exist—but what people don’t realize is that the grocery stores were already in these low-income neighborhoods, and they left because shoppers couldn’t afford them. Affordability is more important than access.

What we hope to prove is that when the incentives go away, participation among the populations we target (people who live in food deserts) is high. They find out the same things we all do—that farmers’ markets are a safe place to bring the kids, that the food is not as expensive as you think.

What does Wholesome Wave do besides providing local nonprofits with matching funds?

We have a nonprofit partner that’s trying to improve food access, and they sure would love to do SNAP, but they’re small and limited in their resources. We’ll look at a nonprofit that’s doing great outreach without SNAP at their market—and we go in and help them get the EBT (Electronic Benefits Transfer) machine, help them get the application process going, give them seed money, and so on. We help them rewrite grants so they can get even greater forms of support. We incubate it. We go in and provide the warmer for the egg and the nest, and we provide the environment in which it can hatch. They already laid the egg.

What’s the ultimate goal of Wholesome Wave? Do you want to grow larger or are you acting as a catalyst?

We don’t want federal money to come to Wholesome Wave. Most of the $110 billion that goes to federal food assistance programs—$60 billion of it— gets spent on highly processed foods. Even though that’s a lot of money, each person gets so little that they can only afford to get Minute Rice or Hamburger Helper without the hamburger. We’d like [the USDA to] repurpose this money to subsidize fresh fruits and vegetables so it has a better outcome.

Our board member (and Executive Vice President) Gus Schumacher is a former Under Secretary of Agriculture at the USDA. He’s been working with federal agencies to share the data that we’re accumulating nationally. And policymakers are saying, “Hey, we need to look at these incentive programs.”  Ideally, some of this federal money would be used to pay for a farmers’ market matching fund.

So it sounds like some of your partners now raise matching funds on their own?

Right. Even if we don’t continue to fund them, we remain in partnership with them. (Wholesome Wave is piloting a Fruit & Veggie RX program in which doctors write prescriptions for fruits and vegetables and measure family members’ blood pressure and BMI every month.)

Farm Fresh Rhode Island is one. Through their own State Department of Agriculture, partner grants, USDA specialty crop block grants and so on, they’ve been effective in not only raising money to double benefits, but giving technical assistance to other markets, doing outreach, and launching a food distribution system. They’ve evolved their work. It’s not just as a result of our programming. These guys are so talented—they really operate as entrepreneurs. Experimental Station in Chicago has done the same thing. They are increasing their efficacy and local funding so much that we anticipate they won’t need our help to match SNAP benefits.

To see if Wholesome Wave is at your farmers market, see here.

 

Friday Round-up

Child Nutrition Re-Authorization. The Food Safety Modernization Act. The White House Garden gets a hoop houses! For a brief summary of what's going on in U.S. food policy and politics, see my latest column for the Faster Times.  

"Fresh" and the Grassroots Marketing of Indie Food Docs

Watch the trailer for the new sustainable food movement documentary “Fresh” by Ana Sofia Joanes and you’d be forgiven for dismissing it as a repeat of last year’s “Food, Inc.” The themes—America’s predominant industrial agriculture model is unsustainable, small-scale farming operations are in ascendance—are pretty much the same and both films feature “lunatic farmer” Joel Salatin as well as the man who made him famous: Michael Pollan.

 

But “Fresh," while covering similar ground as “Food, Inc,” is decidedly more optimistic. “Food, Inc.” is a rigorous exposé that details the horrors of factory farming, and you leave it feeling either pissed off or desolate (depending on your disposition). “Fresh,” though it offers glimpses of miserably crowded cows and pigs (and the requisite image of chicks being flung, by the pallet, down on the CAFO floor), is a celebration of mavericks such as Salatin, Will Allen, and George Naylor, who are starting mini-revolutions in Virginia, Milwaukee, and Iowa, respectively. You leave “Fresh” wanting to get your hands dirty—be it raising organic hogs or starting a container garden on your fire escape.

The truth is, filming for “Fresh” began prior to “Food, Inc.”—Joanes just didn’t have as big of a budget as “Food, Inc.” director Robert Kenner did. So Joanes and her team had to employ a creative marketing strategy. Rather than push for a traditional Hollywood distributor, they chose to launch the film in communities across the country, city-by-city, week-by-week. Specialty Studios, an unconventional film distribution company, only teamed up with Joanes in February, and president Steve Michaelson sought out Joanes, not the other way around. (By then, Joanes and her team had already done the bulk of the marketing themselves and-having elicited 2,000 requests for community screenings-didn’t think they needed a distributor at all.) Specialty Studios helped cement Joanes’ relationship with Whole Foods: “Fresh” is screening across the country during the grocery store’s new film festival, “Let’s Retake our Plates.”

Last month, the first “Fresh Week” launched in New York City on the 7^th with a series of lectures (by none other than Salatin himself), book signings (Anna Lappé), and panels (Will Allen, Annie Novak of Rooftop Farms, and radical gardener/artist Fritz Haeg). There were farm-to-table dinners at Mas, Lupa, and Candle 79; a canning workshop (what else?!); and a Q&A with Mario Batali. Each of these events smartly cross-promoted the film—attendees received a voucher to see “Fresh” at Quad Cinemas. After New York, “Fresh Weeks” rolled out across the country: in Nashville, Columbus, Tempe, Arizona, Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Santa Cruz, Oklahoma City, and Providence.

In Portland, I attended Joel Salatin’s wickedly smart and mischievous talk on “The Sheer Ecstasy of Being a Lunatic Farmer” and was given a voucher to see the film. (There were also farm-to-table dinners in PDX—at Clarklewis, Salt, Fire, and Time and Meriwether’s.)

Joanes and her team reached out to bloggers in each city, asking them to attend “Fresh Week” events (at their own expense, apparently) and write pithy reviews of them on their own blogs.

The brilliance of this strategy is that Joanes doesn’t have to lay down much cash for marketing and distributing the film: each city (and food community) self-generates its own dinners, lectures, and screenings; bloggers aren’t paid.

The down side? Grassroots marketing doesn’t always reach the right audience. In Portland, for instance, most people in the city’s dynamic food world had no inkling that Joel Salatin was in town or that “Fresh” was screening at the city’s venerable Hollywood Theatre. And this, on the eve of the International Association of Culinary Professionals (held in Portland from April 21-24), during which thousands of chefs, cookbook writers, and urban gardening advocates descended on the city in droves. What a pity.

Though the “Fresh Weeks” wind down in June with the final one in Boston, the movie will continue to have a life via community screenings. For a small fee, you can buy the DVD and host a screening at your local library, elementary school, or college. (There’s a toolkit for this purpose on the “Fresh” web site.)

“I’ve been working in film for awhile and have never seen anything quite this creative,” says Julia Pacetti, president of JMP Verdant Communications, who was hired by Specialty Studios in mid-February to help promote the film. “It’s really been fueled from the ground up.” So far, the theatrical marketing and distribution budget for this film has been less than $100,000; Joanes spent another $130,000 for grassroots outreach. (That’s a fraction of the half a million spent on marketing and distribution for most documentaries.)

Is this the future when it comes to promoting small-budget food documentaries in this country? Food docs seem to be serving as test cases for this hybrid style of marketing—part traditional, part grassroots. “What’s on Your Plate?” which follows two Manhattan teens as they track down where their food comes from (and which I wrote about for the Atlantic Monthly), debuted on the Discovery Channel, but it too, is being shown in communities across the country via a sustainable-minded chain, Chipotle.

Watch the trailer for the new sustainable food movement documentary “Fresh” by Ana Sofia Joanes and you’d be forgiven for dismissing it as a repeat of last year’s “Food, Inc.” The themes—America’s predominant industrial agriculture model is unsustainable, small-scale farming operations are in ascendance—are pretty much the same and both films feature “lunatic farmer” Joel Salatin as well as the man who made him famous: Michael Pollan.

But “Fresh,“while covering similar ground as “Food, Inc,” is decidedly more optimistic. “Food, Inc.” is a rigorous exposé that details the horrors of factory farming, and you leave it feeling either pissed off or desolate (depending on your disposition). “Fresh,” though it offers glimpses of miserably crowded cows and pigs (and the requisite image of chicks being flung, by the pallet, down on the CAFO floor), is a celebration of mavericks such as Salatin, Will Allen, and George Naylor, who are starting mini-revolutions in Virginia, Milwaukee, and Iowa, respectively. You leave “Fresh” wanting to get your hands dirty—be it raising organic hogs or starting a container garden on your fire escape.

The truth is, filming for “Fresh” began prior to “Food, Inc.”—Joanes just didn’t have as big of a budget as “Food, Inc.” director Robert Kenner did. So Joanes and her team had to employ a creative marketing strategy. Rather than push for a traditional Hollywood distributor, they chose to launch the film in communities across the country, city-by-city, week-by-week. Specialty Studios, an unconventional film distribution company, only teamed up with Joanes in February, and president Steve Michaelson sought out Joanes, not the other way around. (By then, Joanes and her team had already done the bulk of the marketing themselves and-having elicited 2,000 requests for community screenings-didn’t think they needed a distributor at all.) Specialty Studios helped cement Joanes’ relationship with Whole Foods: “Fresh” is screening across the country during the grocery store’s new film festival, “Let’s Retake our Plates.”

Last month, the first “Fresh Week” launched in New York City on the 7^th with a series of lectures (by none other than Salatin himself), book signings (Anna Lappé), and panels (Will Allen, Annie Novak of Rooftop Farms, and radical gardener/artist Fritz Haeg). There were farm-to-table dinners at Mas, Lupa, and Candle 79; a canning workshop (what else?!); and a Q&A with Mario Batali. Each of these events smartly cross-promoted the film—attendees received a voucher to see “Fresh” at Quad Cinemas. After New York, “Fresh Weeks” rolled out across the country: in Nashville, Columbus, Tempe, Arizona, Milwaukee, Minneapolis, Santa Cruz, Oklahoma City, and Providence.

In Portland, I attended Joel Salatin’s wickedly smart and mischievous talk on “The Sheer Ecstasy of Being a Lunatic Farmer” and was given a voucher to see the film. (There were also farm-to-table dinners in PDX—at Clarklewis, Salt, Fire, and Time and Meriwether’s.)

Joanes and her team reached out to bloggers in each city, asking them to attend “Fresh Week” events (at their own expense, apparently) and write pithy reviews of them on their own blogs.

The brilliance of this strategy is that Joanes doesn’t have to lay down much cash for marketing and distributing the film: each city (and food community) self-generates its own dinners, lectures, and screenings; bloggers aren’t paid.

The down side? Grassroots marketing doesn’t always reach the right audience. In Portland, for instance, most people in the city’s dynamic food world had no inkling that Joel Salatin was in town or that “Fresh” was screening at the city’s venerable Hollywood Theatre. And this, on the eve of the International Association of Culinary Professionals (held in Portland from April 21-24), during which thousands of chefs, cookbook writers, and urban gardening advocates descended on the city in droves. What a pity.

Though the “Fresh Weeks” wind down in June with the final one in Boston, the movie will continue to have a life via community screenings. For a small fee, you can buy the DVD and host a screening at your local library, elementary school, or college. (There’s a toolkit for this purpose on the “Fresh” web site.)

“I’ve been working in film for awhile and have never seen anything quite this creative,” says Julia Pacetti, president of JMP Verdant Communications, who was hired by Specialty Studios in mid-February to help promote the film. “It’s really been fueled from the ground up.” So far, the theatrical marketing and distribution budget for this film has been less than $100,000; Joanes spent another $130,000 for grassroots outreach. (That’s a fraction of the half a million spent on marketing and distribution for most documentaries.)

Is this the future when it comes to promoting small-budget food documentaries in this country? Food docs seem to be serving as test cases for this hybrid style of marketing—part traditional, part grassroots. “What’s on Your Plate?” which follows two Manhattan teens as they track down where their food comes from (and which I wrote about for the Atlantic Monthly), debuted on the Discovery Channel, but it too, is being shown in communities across the country via a sustainable-minded chain, Chipotle.

Sustainable Sushi: There are Plenty of Other Fish in the Sea

 
Last week, I had the pleasure of interviewing marine stewardship expert and ocean activist Casson Trenor for my column in the Faster Times. I'd come across Trenor's name while researching "sustainable sushi"—a relatively new concept at sushi restaurants here in the U.S., but one that's taking off as locavore diners turn their attention to where their fish is coming from. Then, by coincidence, Mark Bittman blogged about sustainable fish a few days later. Something is definitely in the air...or should I say, in the water.

I didn't have space for all of Trenor's sage advice in my column, so herewith is more background info on why you should avoid farmed salmon, Chilean sea bass, and orange roughy at fishmongers and restaurants alike.

(For the top three sushi fish to skip, see the full interview here.)

Farmed salmon has a myriad of negative environmental effects on our planet. It needs more protein than it provides. They either feed them wild fish or an engineered food pellet. It's important to measure how much wild fish protein goes into the farm to get one pound of fish protein. Conventional salmon tends to be between 3 pounds to 1 pounds. It's gotten better recently: a lot are down to 1.8-2.3 to 1 or even a little lower, which is a hallmark of progress. But it's still missing the point in my view. Aquaculture is about feeding the world. It doesn't make sense to pursue carnivorous aquaculture.

Chilean sea bass. A lot of stores will say, "we only sell Marine Stewardship Certified (MSC) sea bass." That is great in theory, but unfortunately not great in practice. MSC's traceability is good, but their sustainability standards are far too low. Think about it: we live on a finite planet. These fish live in the furthest reaches of the ocean under the ice shelves, in the middle of nowhere. Nowhere is the question asked, "Should we even be fishing here?" The very fact that we are sending fishing boats out to Antarctica is symptomatic of a broken system. Sustainable Chilean sea bass is oxymoronic, in my opinion.

Orange roughy, which comes from New Zealand, mostly, is still sold by quite a few retailers. Orange roughy does not reach sexual maturity until about 20 years of age It reaches market size at age six. You see the problem: we're fishing out the juveniles. Fish like that should not be commercially exploited. They're not built for it. There are plenty other kinds of fish.

Chocolate Milk: Soda in Drag

I've been thinking a lot about public school lunches lately—not just because it's a subject that's perpetually in the news these days. For the past few months, I've been volunteering at Public School 157 in Bed-Stuy, for a grassroots non-profit called Wellness in the Schools. I'm part of the salad bar squad: I slice and chop veggies, prepare bean and pasta salads, and serve the kids both. Though New York City lunchrooms still have a long way to go—we can't get local produce or any olive oil, for instance (using subpar soy oil for salad dressings)—at least these first, second, and third graders of all ethnicities are enthusiastic about eating carrots, cucumbers, and celery.  It's only taken a few months, but now it's the rare student who passes the salad bar by without at least trying something.

So it was with great interest that I listened to this NPR segment on how the milk industry is lashing out at parents at this Boulder, Colorado school for taking chocolate milk off the menu.

"Chocolate milk is soda in drag," one mom (nickname: "the renegade lunch lady") says to NPR reporter Jeff Brady, noting that it has 3.1 grams of sugar per ounce. (Soda has 3.3.)

Apparently, this school isn't the only one to ban chocolate milk. The dairy industry, worried about losing more milk drinkers nationwide, has rather desperately launched a "Raise your hand for chocolate milk" campaign on Facebook including this propaganda-filled video. (Hmmm... I wonder how much these dieticians and actors were paid to say that chocolate milk is just as healthy as regular milk?)

Has it really gotten so bad that parents can't persuade their kids to drink plain whole milk?  Oh—that's right, whole milk is not an option anymore, at least in New York City public schools where city education officials removed it from cafeterias in 2006. At PS 157, the only choices kids have are low-fat or skim milk and low-fat chocolate milk. If I were them, I'd probably choose chocolate milk, too. Who wants to drink blue-ish skim milk or watery-tasting 1% milk?

The truth is, kids are not getting fat from drinking whole milk.  (When was the last time you saw a 3rd grader guzzling whole milk? I think that'd actually be cause for celebration.) I'm with Nina Planck on this subject—you need the saturated fat that's in whole milk to absorb the calcium and fat-soluble vitamins in milk. Whereas sugar (and an early addiction to it) leads to everything from ADD to cavities to diabetes.

As we say at the P.S. 157 cafeteria, one step at a time. We've got the kids eating fresh veggies on a daily basis—maybe next semester we'll figure out how to get some seasonal produce from New York state farms. And maybe, like that Boulder school, we can tackle the chocolate milk issue soon.

Second-grader Ella Lyons says it best, "No one's going to get regular milk if we have chocolate milk, because, I think, they're going to like it better because it tastes better...But it's not good for you, so I think we shouldn't have chocolate milk."

Larry King Show on E. Coli Misses the Mark

This story originally appeared on The Faster Times.

This weekend, I finally got around to watching this Larry King segment (which aired on October 13th), featuring foodborne illness lawyer Bill Marler and the mothers and grandmothers of several children who have been victims of E. coli 0157: H7, including Barbara Kowalcyk, the outspoken mother from Food, Inc. who has gone on to found the Center for Foodborne Illness.

The show also contains a strange medley of pro and anti-meat figures from biochemist T. Colin Campbell (anti) to star chef Anthony Bourdain (very much pro). Nutritionist Nancy Rodriguez is vehemently in favor of eating meat in moderation; novelist Jonathan Safran Foer, who has just written a book about being a vegetarian, Eating Animals, weighs in, too. (I told you it was an odd melee.)

Aside from the squirm-inducing questions from King himself—at one point he pointedly asks the grandmother of Kevin, a healthy two-year-old who died of gangrene of the small intestines after eating E. coli-tainted ground beef, if his death was painful. Looking dumbfounded, the woman answers, “Yes, Larry, it was very painful”—the show was disappointing on many levels. I know talking heads go through media training that tell them to inflexibly hammer home their points, but the back and forth between Campbell and Rodriguez was circular and skirted around the (to me) crucial distinction between factory-farmed beef and beef that’s been raised humanely and safely by small-scale farms.

Campbell’s argument is that the caseins in protein help “turn on” cancer growth—his book the China Study details the results of a large-scale study that Campbell directed in the 70’s and 80’s which surveyed death rates for twelve different kinds of cancer for more 65 rural counties in China. (The outcome, according to the book’s web site was “People who ate the most animal-based foods got the most chronic diseases…”) Rodriguez respectfully disagrees, pointing out that animal protein is a more efficient way to get essential nutrients and vitamins such as amino acids, iron and B vitamins. She concedes that “diligent” vegans can get enough zinc and amino acids but says meat is a more practical source for most Americans. The average American is not going to start consuming large quantities of lentils and Brewer’s Yeast (or fortified soy milk), for example.

What neither of them delve into is what type of meat they’re talking about here. When Campbell carried out his research in China, was the meat that the Chinese ate from pastured animals? (Disclaimer: I have not read the China Study, so have no idea, but I’m guessing the answer is no.) Were they doused with antibiotics the way most cattle raised for consumption are here in the U.S.?  And when Rodriguez talks about feeling absolutely safe serving her son hamburgers off the grill, is she serving him Cargill burgers or those from Niman Ranch?

The person who gets closest to raising this issue is Bourdain, an adventurous traveler and eater who loves meat—but who does not love the industrial system that raises it here in the U.S. His succinct rant was a gem, and elicited a simple “Wow” from Larry King:

If you look at our basic design…we have eyes in the front of our head. We have fingernails. We have high teeth and long legs…we have evolved so that we can chase down smaller, stupider creatures, kill them and eat them.  That said, we may be designed to eat meat—we are not designed to eat fecal coliform bacteria. And I think the standard practices of outfits like Cargill and some of the larger meat processors and grinders in this country are unconscionable and border on the criminal.

Yet Bourdain didn’t single out the type of meat he prefers to eat, presumably the kind that does not come from gargantuan meat processors such as Cargill. This would’ve been an excellent opportunity to give a shout-out to a small family-run farm whose meat is of such superior quality that it probably never tests positive for this dangerous strain of E. coli.

Safran Foer, too, notes that 99% of the meat that’s raised in this country comes from factory farms. Right, but we CAN choose that 1% that is not factory farmed, no? (Especially in Brooklyn, I yelled through my computer screen to Safran Foer, who lives in the foodie borough, too.) But really, all over the country…in rural Utah. In fast-food restaurants in Oregon and Washington. Even in Missouri. But instead, Foer seems to be saying, being a vegetarian is the only practical choice to this practically inescapable industrial food system.

Foer briefly touches on his ethical reasons for spurning meat, arguing with Bourdain’s logic that eating animals is somehow “natural”: “The entirety of human progress is defying what is natural. If we were so concerned with what is natural, we wouldn’t obviously be in this studio right now, having this conversation.” (He expands on the ethical side of his reasoning in an excerpt from his soon-to-be-published book in the food issue of the New York Times Magazine.)

Thankfully, Marler gets the last word in, though, asking the Beef Manufacturers Association to be more transparent with the public. Private companies should, for example, post the results of the USDA’s inspections on their web sites. (Not surprisingly, Patrick Boyle from the American Meat Institute did not think this was a good idea.)

Note: Author Jonathan Safran Foer responded to this article on The Faster Times here.

Friday Round-up (Urban foraging & School Lunch Reform)

This column originally appeared in the Faster Times on Oct. 16th.

These days, it’s not easy keeping up on the latest in Food Politics. That’s why I decided to start a regular “Friday Round-Up” column, supplying you with links to the latest stories and blogs on everything from school lunch reform to urban foraging.

Speaking of which:

• Urban Foraging. You hear a lot of people complaining these days about how expensive it is to eat a nutritious, local diet. If you’re sick of shelling out $5 for organic salad greens (and haven’t figured out the perks of a CSA yet), get some tips from two of my Faster Times colleagues, Rachel Wharton and Sarah Karnasiewicz, both of whom have recently written about foragers. Rachel’s story on Wildman Steve Brill, who is still leading his popular tours in New York’s Central Park is in this month’s Edible Manhattan; Sarah interviews Langdon Cook, author of the new book Fat of the Land: Adventures of a 21st Century Forager, in Salon. Cook, who worked for corporate America for many years (where he’d scarf down lunch in 20 minutes at his desk—sound familiar?), forages in the mountains and waterways of the Puget Sound. Brill, on the other hand, is an urban forager: he picks dandelions and purslane from the cracks between the sidewalk and snags mushrooms such as hen-of-the-woods from oak trees in Central Park.

• School Lunch Reform. This week is National School Lunch Week, which seems appropriate judging by the amount of ink spilled lately on efforts around the country to reform lunches at public schools. It’s not clear to me what, if anything, happened this past week to commemorate it, but President Obama’s proclamation (as quoted on Obamafoodarama) makes it sound as though he’s got something up his sleeve:

In the coming months, my Administration will continue our partnership with Federal, State, and local leaders to strengthen the National School Lunch Program. We must work together to remove barriers that prevent some eligible children from receiving meals, and update nutrition standards to reflect the latest Dietary Guidelines for Americans.

Let’s just hope things don’t go haywire, as they have in New York City, where misguided attempts to banish unhealthy food from the schools has led to the banning of bake sales. Getting rid of soda and vending machines I can understand—but bake sales?  Really folks. Removing whole milk and home-made cookies from our schools overlooks the true culprits of childhood obesity: processed snack foods and sugary sodas. (Not to mention the horrible canned and frozen/reheated grub that passes as food at most school cafeterias. Oh, yeah, and the fact that gym is being cut at many schools.) And what are sports teams going to do to raise money, now?

Meanwhile, also in Edible Manhattan was an excellent story by Jan Greenberg about Chef Bill Telepan and a group called Wellness in the Schools. Telepan, like others in this country, realize that much can be done to improve the quality of cafeteria food at the local level. He volunteers one day a week at his daughter’s school, P.S. 87, and has been instrumental in creating themed-food days such as Salad Day, Hormone-Free Milk Day, and even Grass-Fed Beef Day. (School officials put the kibosh on this last one; apparently no raw meat is allowed to cross the threshold of public school kitchens in NYC.)

Finally, the profile on Naked Chef Jamie Oliver in the New York Times Magazine’s food issue, while not solely about Oliver’s efforts to reform school lunch programs in Huntington, West Virginia, is all about the young chef’s next T.V. show: “Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution” in which he challenges middle-and-low income Americans to eat and cook healthy food. (Oliver has chosen Huntington as the site of his next “Jamie Oliver Challenge” based on stats from the CDC that showed that half of the adults in the Huntington-Ashland metro area are obese and that the area has the dubious distinction of leading the country in rates of heart disease and diabetes.)  It will be remarkable if Oliver can achieve in the U.S. what he did in the U.K., with his program “Jamie’s School Dinners.”: “When he eventually succeeded in getting them to abandon their processed poultry and fries and eat his food, the teachers reported a decrease in manic behavior and an increase in concentration,” says journalist Alex Witchel. “The school nurses noted a reduction in the number of asthma attacks. Those findings…were the impetus for the British government to invest more than a billion dollars to overhaul school lunches.”

Know Your Butcher

This post originally appeared on the Faster Times.

Last week, I wrote up a quick summary of Michael Moss’s chilling article about this country’s byzantine network of slaughterhouses and meat processing facilities, where no-one takes accountability for the safety of our food supply.

Yesterday, I got an e-mail from a New York City market called the New Amsterdam Market reminding me that there is an alternative to the industrial model.  Founded in 2005, the New Amsterdam Market is a monthly venue (located down at Manhattan’s South Street Seaport) that showcases local produce, cheese, and meat as well as regionally-made prepared food such as porchetta sandwiches, popsicles, and Mexican-style chocolate. But what distinguishes New Amsterdam from most farmers’ markets is that it is comprised of purveyors—i.e. the cheesemongers and shop owners who sell regionally-made food for regional farmers (who often don’t have the time or desire to sit at a stand for six + hours on the weekend).

“Two Master Butchers Take on a Half Pig Under the Brooklyn Bridge,” the press release announced.

Intrigued, I read on.

On October 25th, the market “will feature farmers and meat ranchers, regional distributors, butchers, and purveyors who can trace and identify the source of every pound of meat sold to the public, even to the specific head of cattle.” In addition to purveyors and farmers selling sustainably raised meat, there would be a meat cutting demonstration by fourth-generation butcher Josh Applestone (whose Kingston, NY meat store, Fleisher’s Grassfed and Organic Meats helped reintroduce the concept of local sourcing and a revival of the art of butchering) and Tom Mylan, erstwhile butcher from [Brooklyn foodie destination] Marlow & Sons. (Mylan also helped open the nearby sustainable butcher shop Marlow & Daughters and is now working on launching another butcher shop in Greenpoint, Brooklyn.)

Yes, but would the Market be selling sustainably-raised, grassfed hamburger meat? And if so, would the local purveyors and farmers be able to “trace and identify every pound” of that ground beef? Could they ensure me that there would be no ammonia-doused “filler” from Uruguay or enormous squalid slaughterhouses in Omaha?

I called up New Amsterdam Market director Robert LaValva to find out.

LaValva was sure there’d be no “filler” from Uruguay, but he put me on to Jake Dickson, owner of the new Dickson’s Farmstand Meats in New York’s Chelsea Market to answer the rest of my questions. Dickson will have a stand at the New Amsterdam Market on October 25th. I immediately went to his web site and read up on his philosophy:

But most of the meat available to the US consumer leaves much to be desired. It embodies the worst of our industrial agriculture practices and what is widely available is of poor quality. It doesn’t have to be this way! There are small scale, environmentally conscientious farmers producing healthy, delicious, artisanal meats right here in New York State! These are farmers who care about the animals and the land on which they are raised. These are the people I wanted to work with and whom I continue to seek out on your behalf.

I like this guy! Furthermore, if you click on “Our Farms,” you can see the eight or so local farms Dickson buys his meat from. (There are short blurbs on each farmer, too, so you can find out how each farm produces its meat. The cows at Herondale Farm, for instance, graze the fields as long as the grass grows, after which they enjoy the alfalfa baleage and hay that is put up for the winter. A little map shows you how many miles it is from farm to market: 250.) Talk about traceability.

So I called Dickson to find out where he sources his grass-fed beef. I caught him driving back from Double L Ranch, a small facility near Albany that slaughters his meat. (He was driving the carcasses back to NYC where he butchers them on location at his Chelsea Market shop.)

“Right now I have three-and-a-half steers and eight lambs in the back of my truck,” he said.  I asked him about his process for making hamburger meat.

“We try to use one steer at a time,” Dickson told me. “We never mix farms—always single farms. And 98% of the time it is a single animal as well. Our general rule is single farm, single animal.”

Dickson went on to tell me about the inconsistent quality of grass-fed beef. “Most of the grass-fed beef out there is of very low quality,” he said. “The variation in grass-fed is much wider than it is with corn-fed. It’s much harder to do well.” He cautioned that “grass-fed” has become such a buzzword these days that many producers and purveyors (and restaurants) throw it around without defining the term. To Dickson, grass-fed cow meat means the cows were “100% grass-fed and grass-finished.” Dickson is not one to believe that grass-fed cows are inherently better than corn fed, though. “They have a different flavor and a different texture,” he said. “There are good and bad variations of both.” Indeed, he sells an organic grain-finished beef from Wrighteous Organics in Schoharie, NY.

LaValva had said something earlier in the morning that stuck with me. “You read about the E. coli scares and all they [the USDA] do is talk about increasing inspections. They don’t think, ‘Maybe this whole system needs to be thrown out.’  If the meat is that cheap, it means you’re compromising something along the way. Should meat be cheap? Why not have that debate?”

What do you think?  Should meat be cheap?

And how many of you have a relationship with your neighborhood butcher?  (No, not that kind of relationship…)

A Picnic in Toronto: Celebrating Slow Food and Green Spaces

There are worse ways to get to know a city than through its food.

This past weekend, I was fortunate enough to be in Toronto for both Nuit Blanche and a  fundraiser "picnic" for Slow Food Toronto and Evergreen, a non-profit organization that makes cities more livable by creating and restoring outdoor spaces. The event was held at the spectacular Brick Works facility in the Don River Valley—a former brick quarry and factory that dates back to 1889 and that's used for a weekly farmers' market, chef workshops, sustainability fairs, etc. It will soon be the site for Evergreen's ambitious new environmental community center, slated to open in summer of 2010. (In fact, that's what this fundraiser was for: generating funds to finish the construction.)

First of all, forgive me, because I did not take notes. You try scribbling in a notebook while carrying a wine glass in one hand (you only get one for the entire picnic) and a compostable bamboo plate in the other. So I rely purely on my fickle memory and the memory of my boyfriend and our friends (Torontonians)—and the handful of business cards and menus I swiped from various food stands.

The theme of this year's picnic was "locally global"—a celebration of Toronto's diverse food traditions. Each chef (specializing in Mexican, Indian, Middle Eastern, etc. cuisines) was paired with a leading locavore chef and a local grower to showcase a seasonal ingredient.

Chef Jamie Kennedy Making Pakoras

Anyway, the wait was worth it: crispy heirloom bean pakoras (above) with yogurt raita or a smokey eggplant salsa. After this, things get a little foggy, no doubt helped by a glass of Steam Whistle pilsner and a generous swig of Frogpond Farm's standout organic cabernet-merlot. (Frogpond is one of two certified organic wineries in Ontario.)  I had a plateful of Argentinian goodness from a restaurant called Canoe: steak tartare, lamb empanada, and a salted tongue (a delicacy I saved for my meat-loving boyfriend); a diminutive pulled pork taco; and a lovely spear of butter chicken and stewed apricots. Clearly, this all called for another wine pairing, so I refilled my glass with a touch of organic and biodynamic merlot from Southbrook Vineyard.

As the five of us slowly made our way over to the dessert area, I looked up from my now-empty plate long enough to notice that several eaters were in a similar state of post-prandial bliss: walking around the barn-like room with dazed expressions, licking their fingers and looking for the next delectable morsel. (Mind you, there were over 60 restaurants present so it did get a bit overwhelming. What is it about being human that makes you want to try everything?)

The thing about these Slow Food events, where zillions of top chefs and local producers are vying for your attention, is that they tend to be fairly insular. (Well-heeled foodies hitting a never-ending smorgasbord of the best local food and wine...I must admit, it does sound elitist.) However, this was hardly a navel-gazing event. Proceeds from the tickets supported two worthy causes: in this case, both Slow Food Toronto (which defends biodiversity and supports small-scale, sustainable, local economies) and Evergreen's new facility, which will eventually house a native plant nursery and garden center, a "green job" training program for area youth, food gardens, farmers' markets, hands-on geology exhibits, and so on. (For more on Evergreen Brick Works, see here.)

Sweet: Ontario Peaches

So then, back to dessert. I tried a prune streusel cake with a dollop of whipped cream from Crush Wine Bar; a tiny piece of Matchbox Garden carrot cake (made with heirloom carrots by Amuse-Bouche chefs Jason Inniss and Bertrand Alépée), topped with a sprig of lavender; a sliver of fresh Ontario peach that blew me away (above); and a Hungarian dumpling with plums from Loïc Gourmet.  Just to prove that I could exercise some restraint, I skipped the homemade honey ice-cream, made with honey from the hives that sit atop the Royal York hotel.

Everyone agreed that the culinary highlight of the day was a pear-pumpkin fritter (made by Brook Kavanagh from La Palette), with a cinnamon-and-maple syrup custard interior. The organic pears were sourced from Ontario's Lincoln Line Orchards and the pumpkins (which were puréed and added to the batter) were from a nearby farm called Psennings.

Earlier in the afternoon, when I was still hungry and sober, I'd spoken to a woman from Farm Start, an Ontario-based non-profit that offers support and training to a new generation of farmers, in some cases linking them up with "mentor farms." Canada's farmers are aging: the number of farmers under the age of 35 has declined from 25% in 1991 to 12% in 2001.

Standing in the Brick Works with my empty plate, I was not worried about the future of small farms. I was surrounded by chefs committed to serving seasonal cuisine, growers ready to supply it, and regular people more than happy to pay for it. Judging by the turnout at this fundraiser, Canada's Slow Food movement, like the U.S.'s, is alive and well.

Where Does Your Beer Come From?

This is the third in a series of articles about polyculture and sustainable farming in Oregon. Read the previous installment, or start at the beginning of the series, which I wrote for The Faster Times.

After sipping wine made from grapes that had not been irrigated (divine!), and then visiting a winery that's practicing polyculture (following the spirit of biodynamics), it was time to visit a farm that produces Oregon's other quintessential beverage: beer.

Even though I've been a beer drinker all my life—my father used to homebrew the stuff and I once thirstily grabbed a Coke bottle from the fridge, only to discover mid-gulp that it was a dusky porter—I'd never, until this summer, seen a hop.

As it happens, the town I grew up in—Salem—is a mere 10 miles from what was once the hop-producing capital of the world: Independence, Oregon. In the 40's, the population of Independence swelled to 50,000 during hop season—with hop-harvesters camping out on the side of the road. Though hop production waned in the 50's, Independence is still the center of much hop activity, including the farm that supplies Oregon's own craft brewer Rogue Ales.

Hops before the harvest at Rogue's farm

As Dustin, a handsome young Rogue employee, showed an assembled group of journalists (and the crew from a new T.V. pilot lamely called "Beer Men") around the farm, he told us some hop history: it was Pliny the Elder who first documented hops, in his Naturalis Historia, but the Germans were the ones to first brew beer, in 732 AD. Of the three species of hop plant, it is Humulus lupulus that is used to flavor and stabilize beer. Dustin then led us into the high-ceilinged hop plant, with its well-worn stairs and rickety cat walks. I was bewildered by the masses of conveyor belts and pulleys going every which way. It all seemed so archaic and intricate. Thankfully, it was the day before harvest, so none of the machines were running. (I hear it's a deafening clatter.)

The intricate machinery at Rogue's hop facility (Photo by Annalou Vincent)

Dustin assured us that the guys who operate the machinery use food-grade quality oil and lubricants. It was at this moment that I realized I'd never once contemplated the origins of my beer—let alone that beer production involves such marvels of engineering, long before it's even brewed or bottled.

From Independence, I drove north with my friend Lisa Donoughe (founder and director of Watershed Communications, who had organized this hop trip) to the town of Mt. Angel. Better known for a Benedictine monastery and its Alvar Aalto-designed library, Mt. Angel is located smack dab in the middle of Oregon farm country.

After a tour of the Annen Brothers' hop collection facility, we met Gayle Goschie, a 3rd generation hop farmer who is turning heads in the beer industry with her commitment to sustainable farming practices. Gayle, along with her brothers Gordon and Glenn, farm 400 acres of hops, and sells them to everyone from Anheuser Busch to craft brewers such as Bridgeport and Deschutes Brewery.

Though most hop farmers say it's "impossible" to grow organic hops (particularly in Oregon, where powdery and downy mildew, mites, and aphids thrive), Gayle has started an experimental 6-acre organic plot. Instead of artificial chemicals or fertilizers, she plants companion plants like garlic and sprays wintergreen and spearmint oils to attract beneficial insects such as ladybugs. Last year, this organic plot thrived, but this past spring was extremely wet, which meant that aphids and downy mildew were out in full force. Nonetheless, Goschie recently told me that Deschutes enthusiastically purchased the majority of her organic crop this year, and is working hard to produce a 100% organic beer.  (Interestingly, most beers that are USDA-certified organic are not necessarily made with organic hops, since they are still fairly hard to source—and cost twice as much as conventional hops. A product needs to be comprised of 95% organic ingredients to get the USDA organic label and organic beers do that by sourcing organic malted barely and wheat. Both Wolaver's and Peak are trying to source 100% of their hops organically, but haven't gotten there yet.) The Goschies are growing many varieties of organic hops including Willamette, Fuggle, Cascade, Teamaker, and Centennial. They're also testing 24 S.S. Steiner experimental varieties, as well as Summit and First Gold hops grown on low-trellises.

Gayle's eyes lit up as she told us about all she was learning from growing and nurturing organic hops. "I'm curious to know what's the difference in the hop cone between organic and conventional," she said. She's already noticed that organic hops are not as uniform as conventional hops. She's learned to discourage spider mites by allowing the foliage cover to stay put (instead of weeding it as conventional hop growers do). "Spider mites winter in the soil," she said. "They don't build if it's not hot—they won't come up the vine."

But as with wine, organic is just one certification for hop farmers to strive for. Goschie Farms is one of the few hop farms in the U.S. to be certified Salmon Safe.

Gayle Goschie, innovative hop farmer

(Photo by Annalou Vincent)

When I first heard about this eco-label, I did a double-take. What on earth could inland hop production have to do with salmon?

It turns out that many conventional farming practices in the Northwest hurt the salmon population: pesticide runoff, erosion, and damage to animal habitats to name a few. Salmon-Safe certifies everything from Willamette Valley hazelnuts to Walla Walla wines; recently, Real Simple magazine rated Salmon-Safe as one of 8 eco-safe labels you can trust.  Hops are a new addition to the nonprofit Salmon-Safe's repertoire.

To qualify for Salmon-Safe certification, hop growers need to meet rigorous conservation requirements, including finding natural methods to control weeds and pests, protecting streams and wetlands, planting cover crops to prevent erosion and runoff, and reducing irrigation.

"A lot of this, including integrated pest management techniques, we were already doing," Goschie told us with obvious pride. Thanks to her grandfather, who started farming the Silverton land in 1905, she and her brothers know the benefits of composting, pest management, and polyculture. (They also grow specialty seeds, grass, and even some wine grapes.) Before seeking the Salmon- Safe certification, the Goschies had already converted to drip irrigation (as opposed to pipes, which waste a lot of water) and had installed moisture monitors in the field. Compost goes on all fields and they plant native grasses between their farm and the highways to prevent sediment runoff. (This is important so sediments don't ultimately cover nearby fish breeding areas.)

Goschie Farms and Sod Busters (another Oregon hop farm) are the only two to be certified Salmon-Safe in the country—and Deschutes is (as far as I know) the only brewery to promote lines of salmon-safe beer: Green Lakes Organic and Hop Trip (a fresh hop beer). Green Lakes, which had a clever ad campaign ("How to Drink Like a Fish...") deconstructing the Salmon-Safe label, is a limited release beer that's only available in the western states—oh, and Texas.

Skippy's, Froot Loops, Fudgsicles: "Smart Choices"?

A few weeks ago, I read this article in the Times about a new labeling program ironically called "Smart Choices," that is clearly a desperate attempt by various food conglomerates to counter the sustainable food revolution. Nutritionally bereft foods such as Cocoa Krispies, Froot Loops, Fudgsicles and Hellman's Mayo have made the list and get a cheery green check mark and the "Smart Choices" imprimatur. (The official-looking logo says, "Smart Choices Program: Guiding Food Choices.) Companies such as Kellogg’s, Kraft Foods, ConAgra Foods, Unilever, General Mills, PepsiCo and Tyson Foods have all signed up and the entire program is chaired by a nutritionist (!!) named Eileen T. Kennedy, who is the dean of the Friedman School of Nutrition Science and Policy at Tufts.

This makes my blood boil.

I was raised to be skeptical of food labels, to examine the "Ingredients" lists on packaging and steer clear of foods that had sugar as one of the first three ingredients. My folks only allowed us to have Golden Grahams and other specious excuses for cereal (which at the time, of course, my sister and I adored!) for dessert. And guess what?  I didn't have my first cavity until I was a senior in high school.

But I well know that my family was not typical. And when a parent who is shopping for cereal sees a label that seemingly tells them the food is healthy, they may believe or want to believe that it's true. I wish that most people knew better, but the fact is—they don't.

So where is our government on this?  How can we stop the madness?

William Neuman, in his article, said that the FDA and and Department of Agriculture had sent a letter to the Smart Choices organizers, saying they "intended to monitor its effect on the food choices of consumers." That's a start, but it's not exactly going to stop the program in its tracks.

Then I read on Marion Nestle's site that Mike Smith of Change.org has organized a letter-writing campaign asking the nutritionists on the board of Smart Choices to resign. If you, too are outraged by this insidious labeling initiative and believe that Teddy Graham's and Froot Loops (41% sugar) are— if not evil—better reserved for the rare snacking indulgence, please take a moment to write a letter to the Smart Choices folks.

Nearly 4,000 people have already done so and—get this—Tufts University, the American Diabetes Association, AND the American Dietetic Association have all asked that their names be removed from the Smart Choices site.

The Politics of "Green Wine"—and Added Sulfites

This post originally appeared on the Faster Times, generating dozens of comments. Clearly the subject of what does, indeed, cause a red wine headache is still controversial—and it's still up for debate.

A few weeks ago, I posted an article about natural wines—just one of the many "green" wines that are getting more attention (and accolades) these days. There's also certified organic wine. Wine made from organic grapes. Biodynamic wine. And—murkiest of all—"sustainable" wine.

A friend recently posted on Facebook that she'd finally come to the conclusion that she can't drink red wine anymore—she wakes up in the middle of the night with raging headaches. Several people (including me) posted that she's probably sensitive to sulfites and that she should give sulfite-free wines a try. (Another friend posited that it was the histamines in red wine that give people headaches—this actually seems more plausible to me since white wines typically contain more sulfites than red. Reds have more natural preservatives in the form of tannins.) 

A discussion ensued about which wines do and do not contain sulfites. Here's the scoop: all wines contain some naturally-occurring sulfites—they are produced by yeast during the fermentation process. In the U.S. any wine that is "USDA Certified Organic" cannot contain any added sulfites. Those organic wines that do contain small amounts of added sulfites are labeled "made from organic grapes." Winemakers with this label add no more than 100 ppm (parts per million) total sulfites—in the form of sulfur dioxide (known as SO2).

QUEST on KQED Public Media.

This recent radio program from KQED in California tries to clear up some of the confusion about all these different eco-wine categories, including this controversial issue of "added sulfites." Reporter Andrea Kissack talks to so-called biodynamic winemaker Tim Thornhill from Parducci Winery and also interviews skeptics who gripe that natural wines have an "organic funk." Towards the end of the segment, she quizzes Luc Erotran from San Francisco's Terroir Natural Wine Merchant who shuns winemakers who are trying to "surf the green wave" and gives his own definition of natural wines.

According to the Organic Wine Journal, the use of added sulfites is a subject of much debate in the organic winemaking community. "Many vintners favor their use, in extremely small quantities, to help stabilize wines, while others frown on them completely," reads the copy on the Organic Wine Journal's site.

While there's nothing inherently wrong with sulfites—they help wines with any kind of shelf life avoid premature oxidation or possible spoilage—they are a chemical and according to the USDA, 1% of the  population is sensitive to them. For more on the still-mysterious subject of Red Wine Headaches, check out this article by Marian Burros.

Anti-Soda Ad Campaign Receives Mixed Welcome from New Yorkers

Just in time for the labor day weekend, New York City's Health Department unveiled its latest public health campaign earlier this week: a series of in-your-face ads warning New Yorkers of the health perils of drinking too much soda and other sugary beverages.            (See ad, above.)

This seems like a no brainer to me. Ever notice how in other countries, where obesity rates are much lower, Coke and Pepsi bottles (not to mention bottles of juice, Orangina, and sports drinks) come in comparatively petite sizes for roughly the same price? 

Actually, these bottles are not petite, they're normal. We've just gotten so used to drinking Big Gulps (32 oz and up) and Venti Frappuccinos (yes, "Venti"=20 ounces) that those European sizes seem quaint and old-fashioned.

But this morning, as I surveyed the comments over at the New York Times' City Room blog, I see that my approving reaction is not a common one.  (Or at least, if it is, it's not being shared on the comments section of Sewell Chan's story.)

The critiques range from the aesthetic ("For the life of me, I couldn’t tell that it was human fat, pouring out of that bottle...It took them three years and over a quarter-of-a-million dollars to come up with this? Sigh.") to the anti-authoritarian ("I look forward to a day when the NYC public health department will remind me to wipe my own bum and chew with my mouth closed, don’t take out the second mortgage, and look both ways before I cross the street.").

If you read all 70 comments, a theme emerges: New Yorkers don't like being told what to do. (Surprise, surprise.) And furthermore, they don't think this 3-month public health campaign will change peoples' habits. One post-er, who calls himself "Consumer Scientist" wrote:

I don’t know who moderated and interpreted the focus groups behind this but, as a senior researcher with over 30 years of conducting qualitative research supporting all kinds of public health campaigns, I know that the “billy club” approach to issues advertising has almost no effect. I’ve been involved in campaigns promoting condom use, vaccinations, cholesterol control and glucose management. In each case, we learned that a softer and more sympathetic approach wins hearts and minds.

These jarring ads may be satisfying for advocates who want to “stick it in the face” of their targets but average consumers tend to react with offense and resentment. Mostly, they dismiss the message as “just not about me.” It’s really a waste of public resources to indulge in campaigns that will have so little impact.

Consumers tend to talk back and argue with ads that are meant to batter them. Even though I tend to avoid sugared drinks, I started thinking, “If they replace Coke with milk, given the high incidence of lactose intolerance in New York, no one will be able to travel by subway any longer.”

I found this enlightening, having never studied what types of advertising "works" when it comes to public health issues. (Yet I do know from living through the pro-active public health years of the Thomas Friedan/Bloomberg team in NYC that a combination of taxing and banning substances that cause chronic illness is an effective two-pronged approach. Frieden's antismoking efforts decreased the number of smokers in the Big Apple by 350,000 and cut teen smoking in half.)

I have no doubt that that the $277,000 spent on the ad campaigns (a third of which comes from a private donor, btw) could've been spent on more tangible things—to help install "edible schoolyards" at struggling public schools or to help pay for gym teachers and new equipment at schools that are forced by budget cuts to reduce P.E. programs. Obesity is not caused by mainlining soda alone.

Ultimately, though, I agree with "PG," who writes:

I applaud the ads. I know they are just one step in what will be a very long process to change American eating habits.

Let’s not forget, the soda industry has been pasting their ads, quite effectively, on our public spaces for years. They worked. And we need to undo the damage.

What do you think of the ad campaign?

Slow Food: Not Just for Foodies Anymore

A few months ago, I heard an interview on the Leonard Lopate Show with Josh Viertel, the new president of Slow Food USA and Ruth Reichl, the editor of Gourmet.

I was impressed with both speakers, but especially with how Viertel framed the new goals for Slow Food's U.S. chapter: he wants the organization to shift its focus from merely celebrating slow food (i.e. healthy, fresh, seasonal food that takes longer than five minutes to consume) to making it accessible to all Americans—especially to kids. "Food that's good for you, for the environment and for the people who grow it," Viertel said, "Is not a privilege, it's a universal right."

Viertel has put his words into action by organizing Time For Lunch, a national campaign that kicks off on Labor Day with Eat Ins around the country. 

What's an Eat-In?  It's part protest (of the horrible processed "food" that's currently the norm at most public schools) part public potluck where residents bring their own dishes to share with neighbors.  An invite arrived in my Inbox the other day from my CSA and the request was simple:

Bring a dish that

-Is nutritious and uses whole foods (not processed foods)
-Costs less than $20 to make
-Is delicious to kids

In exchange, I get to meet members of my community over a potluck lunch, see a movie screening ("What's on your Plate"), cooking demonstrations by the team from "Growing Chefs," and enter a raffle for prizes that include a 18lb ham from Heritage Food and gift vouchers from local eateries. (I'm hoping for Marlow & Sons.)

But the hope is that this grassroots movement of Eat-Ins will send a message to Congress, that we as a nation are demanding school lunch reform. Tater tots, cardboard frozen pizzas, and frozen corn are not a joke anymore: we have a childhood obesity epidemic in this country (the childhood obesity rate has more than tripled since 1980!) and a correlative increase in chronic diseases such as type 2 diabetes.  Getting healthy, fresh, delicious food into our school lunch cafeterias should be a priority, not an afterthought.

So far, over 10,000 people have signed up for Eat-Ins in all 50 states.  To find one in your area, check out this map on the Time For Lunch site—or organize your own.

Far from being an elitist club of European-loving, arugula-chomping, relatively well-off locavores, Slow Food is becoming a diverse movement of Americans of all classes who are demanding that our school cafeterias get a much-needed upgrade. Stay tuned for future coverage of Slow Food actions and activities.

An Inside Look at the White House Kitchen Garden

The Obamas' kitchen garden, the first White House vegetable garden since Eleanor Roosevelt's World War II Victory Garden, has gotten a lot of press this summer —both good and bad. But this video is the first behind-the-scenes look at all the work that has gone into it, both by White House staffers (and the First Lady herself) but also by Bancroft Elementary School students. The video was released by the White House yesterday, the first day of school for many D.C. area kids. (Thanks to Obamafoodarama for the tip.)

It's a heart-warming video, during which you'll see the transformation of the garden over the course of the summer, from March when Assistant Chef (and Food Initiative Coordinator) Sam Kass and his crew amended the soil with sulfated pot ash and crabmeal ("Our crabs are sourced from the Chesapeake," Kass proudly tells the camera) to June, when the garden is lush and ready to harvest (the garden supplies the salad course for a dinner of 20 of the nation's top economic advisers. Nice!).  Throughout First Lady Michelle Obama gets the students involved: they till, they plant, they harvest, and they eat.  One kid told Kass that she now eats all of her vegetables at dinner, proving that it's not impossible to instill healthy eating habits in your kids. (I didn't think it was, but some people have their doubts.)

We get a little bit of history on Thomas Jefferson (Kass is using seeds from Monticello), a little how-to info (the crabmeal gives nitrogen and calcium to the soil, increasing its fertility), and some honest talk from First Lady Michelle Obama about her goal of feeding her family "in a healthy way yet quickly." Despite all the work that goes into backyard farming, it's true that once the fruits and veggies mature, there's nothing "faster" than picking them and eating them.

The 1100-square foot garden has produced over 200 pounds of food (as of July) and is still going strong.

One thing I wish the First Lady and Kass had mentioned in the video is how little it cost to produce this abundance: less than $200, according to this transcript from an April garden planting with the students. (Tellingly, one of the students guesses that it cost $100,000.)

Granted, this figure does not include the cost of labor, but as we continue our nationwide conversations on the importance of eating regionally and healthily, it's vital that we also focus on the issue of affordability. Unlike Whole Foods (aka "Whole Paycheck"), which is off limits to much of this country, backyard gardening is not an elitist endeavor.  Nor is it solely a rural or suburban endeavor, as you know from my past posts on urban gardening. (And here and here.)

So get out there and get your hands dirty!  It's too late this season to start your own vegetable garden but you can still volunteer at community gardens (or rooftop gardens such as Rooftop Farm in Brooklyn or one of these eight around the world). Or simply help out a neighbor by offering to eat his or her produce. (It's harder to eat it all than you think!)

Big Wine and an "Omnivore's Dilemma" to Expose It

(This article was originally published in my Food Politics column at the TheFasterTimes.com.)

Thanks to the slew of recent books and movies about our food supply (led by The Omnivore’s Dilemma and Food Inc.), more Americans than ever are aware of where their food comes from and what’s in it. Readers of this column also know that mass-made juice can be loaded with “flavor packs” and concentrates from up to 12 different countries.

But what about wine?

This may come as a surprise, but most of the wine sold in the U.S. today has been processed and adulterated beyond recognition by corporate growers who are intent on maximizing profits. Is nothing sacred?

Over the last 24 hours, I’ve been devouring Alice Feiring’s excellent book The Battle for Wine and Love: or How I Saved the World from Parkerization and am quickly discovering that the wine industry in many ways mirrors the food industry. At many big wineries (both here and around the world), the life is processed out of the grapes even before they appear on the vines (with over-irrigation, which increases yield but also leads to shallow roots and extraripe fruit). Then, during the fermentation process, meddlesome winemakers add everything from industrial yeast, bacteria, and enzymes to tannins and microbial agents—all to “improve” the taste and mouthfeel of a wine, often so it will appeal to a mass-market palate. (OK: they also throw in these additives to speed up the fermentation and control the process. You know, to make the whole thing more scientific.)

Some winemakers are also brandishing hi-tech processes such as micro-oxygenation and reverse osmosis (also called “ultrafiltration”), techniques that allow them to further manipulate wines.

Fiering writes:

In today’s globalized wine scene, winemakers would like to make wine as standardized as possible. Adding industrial yeast to the wine helps. It ensures that fermentation will start and finish when the winemaker wants it to, not according to the whims of nature. This is extremely important when Costco is expecting its new shipment of wine from Gallo in April—plus, the retailer doesn’t want the customer to bring the wine back complaining that it doesn’t taste like last year’s model.

Today, there are hundreds of industrial yeast replicas, including one genetically modified strain that was recently approved for use in the U.S.

At issue here is not food safety or even nutrition (though I wouldn’t be surprised if organic, biodynamic and naturally-made wines turn out to cause less of a hangover and are proven to contain more antioxidants than their processed cousins) but diversity and complexity of flavor.

Feiring believes (and I agree) that these wines are uniformly bland and characterless—they are artificial, their unique terroir masked by the introduction of such “designer yeasts,” chestnut tannins, oak extracts, and other indignities. Often, as Feiring shows, scheming winemakers mess with their vintages solely to achieve a higher score from influential wine critic Robert Parker (which, of course, leads to a surge in sales). After Parker awarded Helen Turley’s rich, syrupy 1993 Zinfandel a whopping 95 points, for example, he started a trend that hasn’t stopped to this day. “The paradigm of a great wine shifted to one big, jammy, oaky fruit bomb,” writes  Fiering. “And the whole industry adjusted accordingly.”

To me, the central dilemma with Big Wine is actually one of transparency. Though I can choose to drink wines that are made in the natural Old World-style, there is no wine labeling law that requires that GMO yeast, tannins, or bacteria (or new-fangled filtering technologies) be disclosed. Even artisanal producers have begun using these “scientific” techniques—but it is unlikely, as Feiring points out, that they’ll divulge them on labels anytime soon.

Part of the pleasure (and risk) of drinking wine comes from savoring its subtle flavors and the ineffable qualities bestowed on the grapes by the terroir, the weather, and the irrigation (and cultivation) methods. Wine made in the Old World style is alive—it changes from year to year and even, once uncorked, from day to day. It has a sense of place.

Feiring’s book is an Omnivore’s Dilemma for the world of wine and winemaking. I just hope it raises the same level of awareness and appreciation for Old World winemaking techniques as Pollan’s book has for polyculture and sustainably-farmed, honest-to-goodness food.

In the meantime, I’ll continue to seek out small producers who create authentic natural wines—people like Oregon vintners Russ Raney of Evesham Wood, Brian O’Donnell of Belle Pente, Jason Letts at Eyrie, and John Paul at Cameron.  (These wines are at the forefront of my mind since I’ve just returned from Oregon. Know any amazing natural wines from other regions?  Please share them below.)

Manure Mix=Floral Bouquet? Polyculture at an Oregon Vineyard

(This article was originally published in my Food Politics column at the TheFasterTimes.com.)

The wines at Belle Pente (beautiful slope), a 70-acre farm off a dusty road in Carlton, came highly recommended by Russ Raney. The grapes here are organic and the winery is biodynamic; winemaker Brian O’Donnell is a recent member of the Deep Roots Coalition. Coincidentally, I’d read a brief article in the Oregonian a few days earlier about how Brian and his wife Jill have begun diversifying their vineyard by raising goats and Highland cattle.

Below: Sheep and chardonnay at Belle Pente

Belle Pente is not easy to find, nor is there a tasting room, per se. But we had called ahead and so Brian was expecting us. As we drove up a gravel road, we sped past the O’Donnell’s farm and cellar, it turns out. (After visiting a few of the bigger area wineries that day, we’d come to expect a sign, if not a parking lot.) It wasn’t until we’d reached the crest of the beautiful slope (from which we had a magnificent view of the valley) that we realized Brian had been waving us down from his tractor.

“Vineyards are inherently a monoculture,” Brian told us, as he poured us a glass of dry Muscat from 2007. He and Jill are trying to change that by adding livestock and native plants to their winemaking repertoire. They’ve had the goats for fifteen years—they got them originally to clear the land of broadleaf weeds so they could minimize the use of herbicide, but they also milked them, making cheese for home use. Whereas the goats prefer broadleaves, the sheep like grass—so both animals help maintain the vineyard, while also adding to the “manure mix.” Ultimately, the grass-fed sheep are sold at auction for their meat. “They turn our pasture grass into food for humans,” said Brian.

The chickens, which are a relatively recent addition, eat the annoying cutworms (which had been nibbling on the tender new growth of the vines at night)—the eggs, said Brian, are a nice side benefit. (They sell the surplus to neighbors.)  The Highland cows are also brush eaters; their manure goes into making some of the biodynamic preparations, so the O’Donnells have no need to import it. (Eventually the cows, too, will be sold for meat.) In an attempt to restore as much of an indigenous natural habitat of the region as possible, he’s also begun planting native grasses such as Blue Wildrye, Tufted Hairgrass, and Slender Wheatgrass in the aisles between the vines. Brian also supplements the animals’ diet with white grape skins, which aren’t fermented.

This sort of integrated farming is a key tenet of biodynamic farming. It’s also a smart prevention strategy. “Introducing (or restoring) biodiversity is a key to maintaining a healthy, thriving vineyard environment that will ultimately require fewer costly interventions in terms of pest and disease control,” Brian said.

The Muscat was crisp and floral. Belle Pente is one of only three Oregon winemakers to make a Muscat, a wine that’s typically found in Northern Italy (sometimes in the Alsace). The grapes for this vintage come from a vineyard down the road in the Yamhill-Carlton District, where the vines go deep into the soil, past thick stones and marine sediments.

We tried a 2007 Pinot, which had a minerally character, and a 2006 pinot gris reserve, which, Brian told us, had a a more Alsatian style. Next we sipped the Murto—a jammy pinot that’s sourced from an estate in the Dundee Hills where the soil is volcanic. It had a spicy kick and a deep earthiness; I could’ve easily had a full glass. Or two.

Since I wasn’t driving, I also wasn’t spitting as my boyfriend and Brian so elegantly were. (I have yet to master the art of elegantly spitting. Plus, when a wine is so delish, spitting seems like a travesty—even if it is early afternoon and you haven’t eaten lunch yet.)

So forgive me, because this is where my notes lose their precision. I did scribble in my notebook that we talked about the principals of biodynamics, which include lunar cycles, preparations (spraying the vines with silica and highly concentrated compost) and integrated farming techniques. I asked Brian how a New Yorker like him ended up on a remote vineyard in Oregon (he fell in love with wines while working for Intel and HP in Mountain View, California in the 80’s), and, as we tasted more wines—an Estate Reserve Pinot Noir with dark black fruit and an excellent estate grown Chardonnay that had just the right balance of oak (it’s barrel fermented but with old oak—a 50/50 mix of French and Oregon oak)—we discussed other risk-taking winemakers such as Branco Cotar in Slovenia and Gravner in Italy. (Gravner, Brian said, is “pushing the envelope.”)

Though there is something exceedingly romantic and right about drinking a wine in the region where the grapes are harvested, I had to ask: where can I find Belle Pente wines in New York City?  Surprisingly, they are distributed to 15 states—including New York. Among the NYC restaurants who carry it are such foodie destinations as Cru, Gramercy, and 11 Madison. Still, unable to resist, we bought a few bottles for friends and family before thanking Brian and bidding him farewell.

The Belle Pente Vineyards at Dusk (courtesy of Belle Pente)

Evesham Wood and the Importance of Deep Roots

(This article was originally published in my Food Politics column at the TheFasterTimes.com.)

Last week, while visiting my family in Salem, I made a stop at Evesham Wood (one of my favorite U.S. wineries) to talk to owner and winemaker Russ Raney.  (Full disclosure: he and his wife attended the same church as my folks so I’ve been a champion of their wines since they founded Evesham Wood in the mid-1980’s.)  I was eager to taste his certified organic pinot noirs and French-style chardonnay but also to hear how the recent heat wave had affected his vineyards and the grapes.

I’d noticed, as we drove up the sloping hillside towards the Raney house (the wine cellar, which is modest in size, is appropriately tucked under the Raney home), how green and lush the vineyard looked. It was a hot, dry Oregon summer day and there appeared to be no sprinklers or irrigation pipes anywhere in sight.

When I asked Russ his secret, he launched into an animated discussion about the importance of not irrigating. It turns out Evesham Wood is a charter member of the Deep Roots Coalition, a group of Oregon growers who spurn artificial irrigation for environmental reasons but also because it affects the resiliency of the vines and, ultimately, the taste of the wine.

“If you irrigate, you can’t taste the difference in the wine from year to year,” Russ said. (Which is sort of the whole point of making and drinking wine, if you think about it: a wine’s unique taste comes from its particular terroir and each vintage is different.) If you don’t irrigate, the vines are forced to go deeper into the soil to find water. They also find minerals there that add to the grapes’ complex flavors.

“The roots grow shallower if they’re irrigated, and they get used to the water,” Russ explained. Whereas, during the week of 105-degree-plus weather, Evesham Wood’s vines—some of which reach as far as five feet down—were just fine because their roots are getting adequate moisture from the soil. By comparison, irrigated vines in the Willamette Valley reach only 14 inches below the surface, tops.

This is why wines from places like Walla Walla, an arid wine region in eastern Washington, are suspect (and, it turns out, controversial)—not only from a water conservation perspective but also from an old-world winemaking point-of-view. Deep Roots purists (the practice is also known as “dry farming”) believe wine should not be grown in dry regions, period.  The vines that get watered with drip irrigation remind me of humans’ reliance on antibiotics: the more we take indiscriminately, the more our bodies require to wipe out serious bacterial infections such as MRSA. Whereas people whose immune systems are strong from years of taking good care of themselves don’t need antibiotics when they get a simple sinus infection or bacterial infection. Their roots are deep.

We tasted some wines directly from the barrels, including a French-style (unoaked) chardonnay and several pinots, discussed the merits of screw caps (best for young whites and rosés, says Russ, not so much for anything that’s red or aged over a few years), and got Russ’s recommendations for other Oregon wineries who are making phenomenal old-world style wines. One of these was Belle Pente Vineyard in Carlton…

theFasterTimes.com/foodpolitics

It's not easy staying on top of food politics and food safety news these days, but it's a task I welcome with this new gig at theFasterTimes.com ("a new type of newspaper for a new type of world"). Though TFT only launched last week, I've been blogging for some time now about issues as diverse as Sysco (and how it works with small-scale regional farms), the lengths I'll go to get a fix of raw milk, and low-income locavores.

Check it out, and while you're there, take a look at what my food colleagues are doing: former Saveur editor Sarah Karnasiewicz covers street food, Melissa Clark (a regular contributor to the Times' Dining section) writes about her snacking habits, Scott Gold (aka the Shameless Carnivore) covers, simply, "meat," and so on.