I seem to have missed World Food Day and World Poverty Day, not to mention Indigenous Peoples' Day and the advent of COOL, so on a curiously free Sunday - except for garden chores at home and at the community garden and the last AL game of the year - I am going to do some catching up.
It's not that I haven't been thinking and talking about food issues. Our local food systems working group resumed meeting for the fall on Wednesday. My goal for working with this group is to push for a thorough baseline survey of our county food system. If we know where we are starting from, we will know where the leverage points are to improve - access, sustainability, localness and worker justice. I drafted a paper for the group which others will now add to, to make our case.
At dinner on Friday I chatted with folks from St. Stephen's in Colusa where there is interest in a community garden. Chatted may be the wrong word - I really dropped the whole load. Someone pushed the right button and I cranked up the enthusiasm - the evangelist of community gardens c'est moi.
I think our gardens are going to be needed even more with so many people's income and wealth declining while food prices rise. I don't know what kind of saving home or community gardening growing represents in the food budget, but I know the quality is better, and time spent in the garden is time spent in wholesome activity that doesn't cost a penny. As people cut back on shopping for recreation and expensive vacations, why not spend time in the garden? And you don't need a special outfit for it like you do, it seems, for every sport these days; you can wear your oldest clothes. Gardeners become re-users and producers, not so much consumers - which addresses one of the sacred cows of our U.S. economy that got us into this mess in the first place: consumerism.
Also on the food front, I was happy to be able to take tomatoes and baby green beans and squash from my plot for a raw veg platter at the Total Ministry Gathering reception. I also made homemade roasted tomato salsa to go with chips - which turned our really well for a first time improv. There is something about the companionship in good food that makes a meeting better. Most of the food at our gathering was prepared by members of the Redwood Cluster who were also participants in our conference, so that earth, food, friends in Christ were all connected. Whatever the topic of a meeting, such efforts make a difference. When the topic is servant leadership as a note of Total Ministry, it makes all the difference.
Showing posts with label consumerism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label consumerism. Show all posts
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
further thoughts of food and stories
A few weeks ago I finished reading Kitchen Literacy. The book does provide a sweeping story of how our stories about our food have changed. Most helpful for me was understanding that this is not just a post WWII phenomenon, but happened gradually as the U.S. population grew and we became more urban.
Stories and food seem to go together. The stories of rural and town folk - even city folk when agricultural areas, not suburbs, ringed them - used to be how and where the food was produced, and by whom. Even in my boomer childhood, in a small town with a summer population on its way to becoming a bedroom community, we had these food stories. "Uncle" Phil had cows and beef critters, as did the farm two properties from our house (now a golf course). We bought two piglets in the spring and raised them for fall slaughter. I had hens for the eggs (and stew pot). My dad had a vegetable garden and my grandmother had strawberry beds. My grandfather always grew something he hadn't before in his garden - my lasting impression is seeing Brussels sprouts on the stalk for the first time. We all went blueberrying and clamming, and got our cranberries from the growers. (Cranberries now are mostly harvested by flooding the bogs, which makes them most suitable for processing, and not, very much, for storage. If you want to store cranberries through the winter, you harvest them dry, with a scoop with tines, and pack them dry in crates - not plastic. ) My dad went deer hunting, and taught himself to butcher by studying pictures of cuts of beef and lamb in cook books. Usually around my birthday we would make a trip to visit relatives in western Massachusetts, near where my dad's family had settled in the late nineteenth century. We'd visit the peach orchards in the Connecticut River valley and bring bushels home for preserving, and make pigs of ourselves on the bounty of the small truck farm that my dad's cousin ran.
All of this I may elaborate some day in my food autobiography.
But those food stories got supplanted for us and others over time. In the early boomer time of my youth, freezing was replacing canning both commercially and at home. The stories were as often of brand names (was Betty Crocker real once?) as of blueberrying trips. The guy who sold us the piglets got too old to carry on and none of his children were interested; homemade sausage patties were replaced by the brand du jour. Using King Arthur flour ties me to the Saturdays in the 50s helping my grandmother bake as much as the memory of helping her to pick strawberries to sell at her roadside stand.
Other narratives grew up - like the weekly narrative of what was on sale at the supermarket, sure to be featured in this week's menus. And we watched our first cooking shows, the Julia narrative.
Now as I consider my fellow eaters and shoppers, I see even more sophisticated stories that distance us from our food. There are still stories of brand names - but they are usually built on the clever vignettes of advertising campaigns, not the adjudged quality of the product. We get to know the actors who "make" Post cereals, or the family who eats Thomas' English Muffins, or the Kashee eating bungee jumpers. Who even thinks about where the grains come from? And there are the green washing campaigns, too. We want to believe the idyllic labels on Target's organic food line, and the grazing cows on our dairy products. And, of course, the narratives of quick and easy.
The other stories we tell ourselves about our food these days are the nutrient stories. It's good for you - antioxidants, calcium, contains ginkgo, pomegranate, blueberry extract. And just what are goji berries? where do they come from? At my local market the crocks of staple items contain full nutritional labeling, and sometimes organic certification, but nary a word about where the crops are grown or processed.
It's a luxury to have the kind of conversation I did yesterday, with the person who sources and blends the mix of leaf lettuce seeds from which I am growing a very satisfying crop.
But before I manage to outline my entire food autobiography, I want to attempt to say what I set out to: food and stories seem to go together - meal and narrative. At their best, there is a sacramental quality to meal and narrative, that points us to the meal and stories we share around our holy tables.
Stories and food seem to go together. The stories of rural and town folk - even city folk when agricultural areas, not suburbs, ringed them - used to be how and where the food was produced, and by whom. Even in my boomer childhood, in a small town with a summer population on its way to becoming a bedroom community, we had these food stories. "Uncle" Phil had cows and beef critters, as did the farm two properties from our house (now a golf course). We bought two piglets in the spring and raised them for fall slaughter. I had hens for the eggs (and stew pot). My dad had a vegetable garden and my grandmother had strawberry beds. My grandfather always grew something he hadn't before in his garden - my lasting impression is seeing Brussels sprouts on the stalk for the first time. We all went blueberrying and clamming, and got our cranberries from the growers. (Cranberries now are mostly harvested by flooding the bogs, which makes them most suitable for processing, and not, very much, for storage. If you want to store cranberries through the winter, you harvest them dry, with a scoop with tines, and pack them dry in crates - not plastic. ) My dad went deer hunting, and taught himself to butcher by studying pictures of cuts of beef and lamb in cook books. Usually around my birthday we would make a trip to visit relatives in western Massachusetts, near where my dad's family had settled in the late nineteenth century. We'd visit the peach orchards in the Connecticut River valley and bring bushels home for preserving, and make pigs of ourselves on the bounty of the small truck farm that my dad's cousin ran.
All of this I may elaborate some day in my food autobiography.
But those food stories got supplanted for us and others over time. In the early boomer time of my youth, freezing was replacing canning both commercially and at home. The stories were as often of brand names (was Betty Crocker real once?) as of blueberrying trips. The guy who sold us the piglets got too old to carry on and none of his children were interested; homemade sausage patties were replaced by the brand du jour. Using King Arthur flour ties me to the Saturdays in the 50s helping my grandmother bake as much as the memory of helping her to pick strawberries to sell at her roadside stand.
Other narratives grew up - like the weekly narrative of what was on sale at the supermarket, sure to be featured in this week's menus. And we watched our first cooking shows, the Julia narrative.
Now as I consider my fellow eaters and shoppers, I see even more sophisticated stories that distance us from our food. There are still stories of brand names - but they are usually built on the clever vignettes of advertising campaigns, not the adjudged quality of the product. We get to know the actors who "make" Post cereals, or the family who eats Thomas' English Muffins, or the Kashee eating bungee jumpers. Who even thinks about where the grains come from? And there are the green washing campaigns, too. We want to believe the idyllic labels on Target's organic food line, and the grazing cows on our dairy products. And, of course, the narratives of quick and easy.
The other stories we tell ourselves about our food these days are the nutrient stories. It's good for you - antioxidants, calcium, contains ginkgo, pomegranate, blueberry extract. And just what are goji berries? where do they come from? At my local market the crocks of staple items contain full nutritional labeling, and sometimes organic certification, but nary a word about where the crops are grown or processed.
It's a luxury to have the kind of conversation I did yesterday, with the person who sources and blends the mix of leaf lettuce seeds from which I am growing a very satisfying crop.
But before I manage to outline my entire food autobiography, I want to attempt to say what I set out to: food and stories seem to go together - meal and narrative. At their best, there is a sacramental quality to meal and narrative, that points us to the meal and stories we share around our holy tables.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Wear clothes. Not too many. Mostly plant fiber, animal hair, or pounded bark.
Michael Pollan, In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto (Penguin, 2008) urges us, with humor and good sense, to "eat food, not too much, mostly plants."
Put that together with headlines like
Nalgene to nix BPA bottles due to consumer concern
(Houston Chronicle, April 18, 2008, 10:38AM)
http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/ap/fn/5712126.html
and you have to wonder what's next....
Containers your great-grandmother would've recognized as containers.
Clothing your grandmother would've recognized as clothing.
Music your parents would've recognized as music....
What Michael Pollan writes about is hard to dislike - and encourages a simpler way of consuming food, simpler in the 'common sense' way, but not simpler in terms of obtaining foodstuffs. It requires intentionality, care and attention. And may pay off in better health, for you and the planet.
One enjoyable suggestion is to purchase food at local farmers markets and 'shake the hand that feeds you'. In Sonoma County, California, you can, for example, buy at farmers markets (in places like Healdsburg) organic potatoes from the farmer - the same potatoes you would be served at the French Laundry or John Ash restaurants.
Buying containers from the potter, purchasing coffee from the growers' collective, buying cheese at the dairy, etc., -- both a pleasure and good sense. Could living good also mean living well?
Put that together with headlines like
Nalgene to nix BPA bottles due to consumer concern
(Houston Chronicle, April 18, 2008, 10:38AM)
http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/ap/fn/5712126.html
and you have to wonder what's next....
Containers your great-grandmother would've recognized as containers.
Clothing your grandmother would've recognized as clothing.
Music your parents would've recognized as music....
What Michael Pollan writes about is hard to dislike - and encourages a simpler way of consuming food, simpler in the 'common sense' way, but not simpler in terms of obtaining foodstuffs. It requires intentionality, care and attention. And may pay off in better health, for you and the planet.
One enjoyable suggestion is to purchase food at local farmers markets and 'shake the hand that feeds you'. In Sonoma County, California, you can, for example, buy at farmers markets (in places like Healdsburg) organic potatoes from the farmer - the same potatoes you would be served at the French Laundry or John Ash restaurants.
Buying containers from the potter, purchasing coffee from the growers' collective, buying cheese at the dairy, etc., -- both a pleasure and good sense. Could living good also mean living well?
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
The Composter
The Composter, newsletter of the Tucson Organic Gardeners
http://iwhome.com/nonprofits/TOG
TOG InfoLine: 520-670-9158 has lots of interesting bits. The May issue has an article on What Those Food Labels Really Mean by Suzanne Havala Hobbs, DrPH RD (dietician & clinical assistant professor at UNC Chapel Hill): 100% Organic means something, Reduced means less, and Natural not much of anything. The seasons are very different from northern California – there are six, as you learn at Sabino Canyon nature preserve or Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, and summer temperatures average 100F from mid-May through late August, with lows in the low 70s. There is an article in the Sustainability Corner on Envelopes – reuse or recycle? And lots about gardening. Ads for free manure for the taking, and Barbara Kingsolver & Steven Hopp signing books at Grace-St Paul’s Episcopal Church in a benefit for Native Seed/SEARCH. Had a chance to visit Tucson Botanical Garden (aka Bernice’s house) especially its heritage, xeriscape, and Tohono O’odum areas. “Corn, corn, corn, bad, bad, bad!” does not apply so much when it is a native crop not mixed into industrial products.
And there is a carrot cake recipe, from the King Arthur Flour Baker’s Companion.
We also had a wonderful visit with retired president of Arizona Historical Society, which gives you a broader perspective on how the people have lived on the land.
Woodbrook by David Thomson (1974) continues to give me new facts and feelings about farming in Ireland – he studied famine relief agency records. Incredible.
On Inishmore, westernmost of the Aran Islands, I saw “lazy beds”, raised beds for growing potatoes; there they are fertilized with kelp hauled up from the beach at low tide and dried on the limestone. …Most of the island seems to be limestone in flat long shelves that look like abandoned skyscraper foundations. The piled-up stones of the walls around the fields provide not only a place to put the rocks but wind shelter, some containment for cattle, and even a spot for the sun to warm. The enclosures are relatively small – though one brownie calf had a good quarter-acre to herself during weaning.
Dara Molloy, who farms traditionally, says that the islanders are trying to go green; e.g., using propane instead of petrol. And they continue to use not only mini-buses for tourist transport, but also the traditional “side car” with pony.
Enjoy this article from the Los Angeles Times about Reverend Billy (Bill Talen) and his bullhorn activism against consumerism, big box retail, the general Disneyficiation of the landscape....
http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/politics/la-na-revbilly10jul10,1,1214518.story
And don't miss San Francisco Chronicle coverage of the Farm Bill
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/c/a/2007/07/10/FARMBILL.TMP&type=printable
and
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/chronicle/archive/2007/07/10/MNGNUQTN281.DTL&type=
http://iwhome.com/nonprofits/TOG
TOG InfoLine: 520-670-9158 has lots of interesting bits. The May issue has an article on What Those Food Labels Really Mean by Suzanne Havala Hobbs, DrPH RD (dietician & clinical assistant professor at UNC Chapel Hill): 100% Organic means something, Reduced means less, and Natural not much of anything. The seasons are very different from northern California – there are six, as you learn at Sabino Canyon nature preserve or Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, and summer temperatures average 100F from mid-May through late August, with lows in the low 70s. There is an article in the Sustainability Corner on Envelopes – reuse or recycle? And lots about gardening. Ads for free manure for the taking, and Barbara Kingsolver & Steven Hopp signing books at Grace-St Paul’s Episcopal Church in a benefit for Native Seed/SEARCH. Had a chance to visit Tucson Botanical Garden (aka Bernice’s house) especially its heritage, xeriscape, and Tohono O’odum areas. “Corn, corn, corn, bad, bad, bad!” does not apply so much when it is a native crop not mixed into industrial products.
And there is a carrot cake recipe, from the King Arthur Flour Baker’s Companion.
We also had a wonderful visit with retired president of Arizona Historical Society, which gives you a broader perspective on how the people have lived on the land.
Woodbrook by David Thomson (1974) continues to give me new facts and feelings about farming in Ireland – he studied famine relief agency records. Incredible.
On Inishmore, westernmost of the Aran Islands, I saw “lazy beds”, raised beds for growing potatoes; there they are fertilized with kelp hauled up from the beach at low tide and dried on the limestone. …Most of the island seems to be limestone in flat long shelves that look like abandoned skyscraper foundations. The piled-up stones of the walls around the fields provide not only a place to put the rocks but wind shelter, some containment for cattle, and even a spot for the sun to warm. The enclosures are relatively small – though one brownie calf had a good quarter-acre to herself during weaning.
Dara Molloy, who farms traditionally, says that the islanders are trying to go green; e.g., using propane instead of petrol. And they continue to use not only mini-buses for tourist transport, but also the traditional “side car” with pony.
Enjoy this article from the Los Angeles Times about Reverend Billy (Bill Talen) and his bullhorn activism against consumerism, big box retail, the general Disneyficiation of the landscape....
http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/politics/la-na-revbilly10jul10,1,1214518.story
And don't miss San Francisco Chronicle coverage of the Farm Bill
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/c/a/2007/07/10/FARMBILL.TMP&type=printable
and
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/chronicle/archive/2007/07/10/MNGNUQTN281.DTL&type=
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Eaters or Consumers?
The Community Voice, the newspaper local to Cotati, Rohnert Park and Penngrove just south of me, has a new writer on staff, and she's also an organic gardener. Last week the Voice published a piece by Betti Faust on her passion for eating locally:
http://thecommunityvoice.com/articles/2007/03/16/home_and_garden/homeandgarden1.txt
It's one of the best short articles I've seen. But I'm wondering about one little thing in it. Why does she refuse to call us consumers?
I guess it's true that I'd rather be thought of as an eater, or even a glutton, than a consumer. But the fact is we are all caught up in this consumer society of ours. Just when we think we may be untangling ourselves, something else sneaks up behind us, reminding us of the waters in which we swim.
I also seem to recall that consumer is an appropriate term for animals in ecology. If you can't make it (photosynthesis), you need to consume it. Wasn't it producers, consumers, decomposers? Undoubtedly an over simplification, but isn't it good to have the humbling reminder that we are dependent on other living things for our very existence? Maybe we need to bring back this more honest use of the term "consumer".
http://thecommunityvoice.com/articles/2007/03/16/home_and_garden/homeandgarden1.txt
It's one of the best short articles I've seen. But I'm wondering about one little thing in it. Why does she refuse to call us consumers?
I guess it's true that I'd rather be thought of as an eater, or even a glutton, than a consumer. But the fact is we are all caught up in this consumer society of ours. Just when we think we may be untangling ourselves, something else sneaks up behind us, reminding us of the waters in which we swim.
I also seem to recall that consumer is an appropriate term for animals in ecology. If you can't make it (photosynthesis), you need to consume it. Wasn't it producers, consumers, decomposers? Undoubtedly an over simplification, but isn't it good to have the humbling reminder that we are dependent on other living things for our very existence? Maybe we need to bring back this more honest use of the term "consumer".
Friday, March 16, 2007
Consumer news and notes
While I've said many times that more than consumer choices are involved in changing the food system, we are, of course, still consumers of food in one way or another.
This week I ran across an article from the Chicago Tribune about food and nutrition which contains some helpful and some amusing information.
http://www.chicagotribune.com/features/food/chi-0703060268mar07,1,6213107.story
(You may have to register to get to this, but I recommend doing so if you like food news and recipes. You can sign up for a weekly e-mail compilation of the best food stories from the Tribune, the L.A. Times and some other papers. I have done this and not gotten unwanted mail because of it.)
My favorite line from this article is in the review of diets at the end. The Sonoma Diet is basically the South Beach Diet with lots of wine.
While I always learn from articles like this, it bothers me that we seem to have three strands of food concerns that rarely work together.
Articles like the one above on nutrition myths approach food from a nutrients only perspective, without much regard to either the pleasure of eating or the justice dimensions of the food supply.
OR, you can read articles about which ingredients are trendy this year, or features on international reviews of cheese, wine, etc., with no regard to the environmental cost or the contribution (or not) to a healthy diet.
Read the beginning of this article on leeks from the L.A. Times - it's so over-written that it could qualify as vegiporn. Still - it does celebrate a vegetable that's in season.
http://www.latimes.com/features/food/la-fo-leeks7mar07,1,2196125.story?coll=la-headlines-food
OR you can read articles about environmental impact, or injustices in food production and distribution, that give only a nod to nutrition and celebration.
Few articles get down and get honest about the intersection of nourishment, celebration, and eco-justice.
Here's an article that tells some truth: Comparing eggs, those from your local farmer's market are probably the best, and $5 a half dozen for free range eggs flown in from New Zealand is ridiculous.
http://www.latimes.com/features/food/la-fo-eggbox14mar14,1,263409.story?coll=la-headlines-food
We really need more food writing that covers the subject from many angles.
This week I ran across an article from the Chicago Tribune about food and nutrition which contains some helpful and some amusing information.
http://www.chicagotribune.com/features/food/chi-0703060268mar07,1,6213107.story
(You may have to register to get to this, but I recommend doing so if you like food news and recipes. You can sign up for a weekly e-mail compilation of the best food stories from the Tribune, the L.A. Times and some other papers. I have done this and not gotten unwanted mail because of it.)
My favorite line from this article is in the review of diets at the end. The Sonoma Diet is basically the South Beach Diet with lots of wine.
While I always learn from articles like this, it bothers me that we seem to have three strands of food concerns that rarely work together.
Articles like the one above on nutrition myths approach food from a nutrients only perspective, without much regard to either the pleasure of eating or the justice dimensions of the food supply.
OR, you can read articles about which ingredients are trendy this year, or features on international reviews of cheese, wine, etc., with no regard to the environmental cost or the contribution (or not) to a healthy diet.
Read the beginning of this article on leeks from the L.A. Times - it's so over-written that it could qualify as vegiporn. Still - it does celebrate a vegetable that's in season.
http://www.latimes.com/features/food/la-fo-leeks7mar07,1,2196125.story?coll=la-headlines-food
OR you can read articles about environmental impact, or injustices in food production and distribution, that give only a nod to nutrition and celebration.
Few articles get down and get honest about the intersection of nourishment, celebration, and eco-justice.
Here's an article that tells some truth: Comparing eggs, those from your local farmer's market are probably the best, and $5 a half dozen for free range eggs flown in from New Zealand is ridiculous.
http://www.latimes.com/features/food/la-fo-eggbox14mar14,1,263409.story?coll=la-headlines-food
We really need more food writing that covers the subject from many angles.
Friday, February 9, 2007
shopping
This link arrived in my e-mail a few days ago:
http://commongroundmag.com/2007/02/food0702.html
While there's a bit of hyperbole in the article, "Voting Beyond Our Forks," the main point, that "We can't simply shop our way out of this mess" is right on. Consumer solutions to problems rooted in consumerism may appear to help, help a little, help for a time - but they aren't sustainable solutions. It will take concerted political effort to heal and rebuild our nation's food system. That means becoming informed about the 2007 Farm Bill, among other things.
It troubles me when I see individuals and congregations focusing on food aid to the hungry in our communities, and not looking at the big picture. Going beyond this article and our own plight here in the U.S., the same applies when we consider the plight of the hungry around the world. How much do our farm policies affect our food aid policies, which affect the ability of other countries to become food secure? The paper "Food Aid or Food Sovereignty" from the Oakland Institute really opened my eyes on this, as did hearing Anuradha Mittal, co-author, at the Food Connections conference at Sonoma State last summer. The paper's not a quick read, or necessarily a comfortable one, but I think it is worth the effort.
http://commongroundmag.com/2007/02/food0702.html
While there's a bit of hyperbole in the article, "Voting Beyond Our Forks," the main point, that "We can't simply shop our way out of this mess" is right on. Consumer solutions to problems rooted in consumerism may appear to help, help a little, help for a time - but they aren't sustainable solutions. It will take concerted political effort to heal and rebuild our nation's food system. That means becoming informed about the 2007 Farm Bill, among other things.
It troubles me when I see individuals and congregations focusing on food aid to the hungry in our communities, and not looking at the big picture. Going beyond this article and our own plight here in the U.S., the same applies when we consider the plight of the hungry around the world. How much do our farm policies affect our food aid policies, which affect the ability of other countries to become food secure? The paper "Food Aid or Food Sovereignty" from the Oakland Institute really opened my eyes on this, as did hearing Anuradha Mittal, co-author, at the Food Connections conference at Sonoma State last summer. The paper's not a quick read, or necessarily a comfortable one, but I think it is worth the effort.
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