Going Green

Hey farmer farmer
Put away that DDT now
Give me spots on my apples
But leave me the birds and the bees
Please!
~Joni Mitchell

It seems that everything these days is going green, reaching towards sustainability in any possible way. This is no different in the food sphere. From the source to the disposal, food has gone green, and not just the veggies! (Get it?!)

Perhaps beginning with Rachel Carson, at least in the US, but maybe even earlier abroad, science has been raising awareness of the problems of how we produce our food. All those pesticides and herbicides that were supposed to prevent competition between our crops and those pesky weeds and pests are slowly fading into a thing of the past. All that DDT… turns out not so good for you. Now farmers and even family gardeners are turning to new methods of natural and environmentally friendly pest control. In one of my high school Environmental Science classes, we learned that one of these techniques is to use natural predators of plants and other pests. For example, some farmers use geese and other such duck-like creatures to prey on the insects that destroy their crops. Another plus? The waste (manure) fertilizes the ground… naturally.

At home, my family unfortunately lacks a gaggle of geese which will cooperate and actually eat the pests, rather than just … defecating… all over the place. Instead, my mom has come up with other alternatives, natural alternatives to pesticides. Apparently many pests dislike hot pepper, so she sprinkles hot pepper flakes throughout the vegetable garden. And to keep away the larger pests, deer in particular, we usually brush the dog near the garden. The scent of the dog’s hair keeps animals away who depend on scent to determine territory. I know there are many other methods, as I am sure my parents will remind me; and even though my high school environmental science teacher may be disappointed in my short list, I must carry on.

Here’s another way to go green with your food: BUY LOCAL. As hippie-esque and bumper sticker-y as this cliché is, it is true. One of the simplest ways to save the environment is to buy from local farms, produce stands, or at least pick the produce that is labeled with a local origin at the grocery store. When you get your resources from nearby you can count on the fact that gas emissions will be low- no driving or flying across country necessary! Of course, if you can, a home grown garden is another way to prevent those gas emissions, because when you want a green pepper or some fresh basil all you have to do is take a pair of scissors out to your backyard.

In my family, we have a belief that leftovers show love. We would never serve leftovers to a guest. No, they are only for family. But leftovers also show a love for the environment. You know how it goes, Reduce, Reuse, Recycle! Don’t throw away those scraps, the bottom of the mashed potato pot, the stale bread, or the lemon wedge. Reheat that steak and serve it with eggs for breakfast, make potato pancakes, croutons or bread pudding with the stale bread, and flush the lemon down the disposal (it’ll make the kitchen smell citrus-y fresh!). And if you really dislike the idea of leftovers, for whatever reason, cook less, fix smaller portions, make your kids eat those veggies instead of giving them the option to pass and let them go to waste (there are starving kids in New Orleans, you know).

My final recommendation: COMPOST! It is so easy, and I bet you didn’t even know all of the things you can compost. If you want a good overview of composting in general, what to expect, how to, what you need, what you should, could and definitely should not put into that pile, visit Garden Web.

While you're at it, check out my friend's related blog, and look through the GREEN lenses!

Foods of America

"Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are." ~ Anthelme Brillat-Savarin

I am from Maryland, not originally, but I have lived here for most of my life- 14 years.

I don’t know if you got the message in my last post- but it’s almost summer. And summer in Maryland brings out one of the greatest and proudest features of this area: the Maryland Blue Crab. It might be early in the season now, but in a month or two, orders of bushels of crabs will pour into seafood suppliers and crab houses, and hardware stores might run out of long plywood sheets that will serve as the massive crab-picking table.

Yes, crab feast season is just around the corner. For those of you outside of the state, you might wonder, “What is this madness? Why are Marylanders obsessed with crabs?” I have been asked this question many times by some of my out-of state friends. And I have one answer.

It is a way of life. We in Maryland are proud of our state, proud of our state shellfish, proud of the Chesapeake Bay (even though it is horribly polluted) from whence the crabs come, proud of our expertise at preparing and eating crabs. In my opinion, there is nothing that can better bring a community together than sitting around a giant table with dozens of your closest friends, picking and feasting on crabs, the warm summer light bouncing off your face with the scent of Old Bay wafting through the air. It’s almost poetic!

And then there is the fact that these tasty treats are just so GOOD! Well, I guess that was more than one reason.


Doesn’t every area have a dish, a food that typifies the region, that everyone gets excited about, and outsiders just can’t seem to understand? These foods bring people together, around the table and at community picnics. The shared love of regional food bonds people together in ways that those outsiders cannot understand unless they look at their own food loves. Now, I am not an expert, so I’m probably about to make some assumptions based on stereotypes. But hey— if Marylanders are apparently obsessed with crabs, then aren’t other people obsessed with their own foods?

What about Mexican food in California and Tex-Mex in the southwest, particularly Texas? Don’t all Texans eat red meat like they drink water, and Seattle-ans have coffee for blood? Probably not, actually. But these assumptions could also be based in fact, observed fact. I think many Texans would vow a love of red meat. And if I lived in Texas, I probably would, too. (But I don’t, so I won’t). Starbucks originated in Seattle. So yes, maybe coffee is a big deal there. There is Creole food on the bayou, French infusion into New Orleans food (does anybody else slobber over the thoughts of hot beignets sprinkled with powdered sugar?).

(Check out the pictures of my family's home-made Thanksgiving beignets)

New England has its clam chowder; the Northwest has its salmon; Maine has it’s lobster; the Midwest and the Carolina’s both have their barbecue; Chicago has its pizza; St. Louis has its toasted ravioli; Wisconsin has its cheese; and Key West has Key Lime Pie. These all make sense, right?

America might have its own cuisine, its stereotype of Americana. So does each American region, each state, and each city. We love these flavors, and I know that I personally look forward to tasting a little of each specific cuisine whenever I go to its respective region.

Food once again serves as a way to identify oneself, to create a community. Peoples are joined together by a connection to their region, and a love (sometimes bordering on an obsession) of a community food.

Food as identity, comfort, inspiration

"The story of barbecue is the story of America: Settlers arrive on a great unspoiled continent, discover wondrous riches, set them on fire and eat them." ~Vince Staten

The semester is almost over. Last week I had 3 papers, including a long research paper. This past weekend I participated in a 12 hour Relay for Life to battle cancer. I have 5 days of class remaining before exams. Am I stressed? Maybe just a tad.

To take a tiny break, I went home for the night on Friday. My Dad asked what I would like for dinner and the only thing I could think about- was bratwurst. Now, let me explain. The weather was beautiful, I had left school and had no immediate academic demands, at least for the moment. The weather, the beautiful environment, and the completely relaxed atmosphere seemed to signal just one thing: summer.

And with the advent of summer also comes a specific menu. No more meatloaf, heavy pasta dishes, soups and hot chocolate. Now is the time for ice-cold lemonade, fresh fruit and berries, herbs and veggies fresh from the garden, barbecues, and ice cream. So really, there was nothing better to have than a fresh-off-the-grill Bratwurst.

For me, grilling anything outdoors is indicative of summer, of backyard barbeques and neighborhood block parties. But one of my favorite associations is with the ballpark. Nothing says summer to me more than sitting in the stands with a cold lemonade, a pack of peanuts or cracker jacks and a hot dog with the sounds of the bat hitting the baseball and “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” echoing in the back of my mind. This could only be improved by substituting the hot dog with a bratwurst or corn dog. I know that they can sometimes give off a bad impression. But where else are breaded and fried hot dogs on sticks so readily available, so accepted, and so tasty than at the ballpark?

Excuse any following generalizations, but this is America. This is where we get hot dogs and hamburgers, barbecue, fried chicken, corn on the cob, and apple pie.

Along with historical monuments and natural landmarks, America is also easily identified by cuisine. We all come from different places, bringing with us different appreciations, expectations, tastes and flavors. Even among these differences have come standards at the American table. If not as a particular dish, then perhaps associated with a national festivity or attitude. Take my previous example. I don’t think sausages, bratwurst or any other kind, can be typified into food of Americana. But sitting on the back porch or in the ballpark, munching on these foods certainly feels American to me. Maybe it’s just the game. Or maybe it’s the comfort aspect.

Comfort food, in the shape of cereal or ice cream late at night, spaghetti and meatballs in the cold winter, or hot dogs on a hot summer day, makes us feel good. And this is exactly how I felt on Friday night, with a full plate, nice weather, and the comforts of home on an almost-summer’s eve. These foods reassure us, reaffirming who we are, where we are, how we are, and what we love.

Isn’t it funny how food can create such strong associations to memory, identity and emotions? I’ve already mentioned the food that can create an American identity (at least in the kitchen). Then there is also the comfort food- and oh, how that food connects us to emotions! Why else would mashed potatoes make us so happy, cheese make us so ecstatic, and cereal late at night so content. I may just be speaking for myself here, but I am certain that everybody has a food that can alter his or her attitude and emotions in a matter of seconds. It is one positive in how easily we humans can be swayed. And as for associations to memory, I’ve heard that smell is the sense that ties most closely to memory. I won’t disagree, but rather argue that taste also ties significantly to memory. Now, scent probably plays a big part in this. But, even to this day, if I have the right kind of popsicle, I am taken back to a summer’s night 10 years ago, playing Ghost in the Graveyard with the neighbors. Sometimes at the dinning hall, with a bite of scrambled eggs I am taken back to the dining hall at camp. The food wasn’t very good, but the memory is strong- good friends, good times. Perhaps this is also the reason that I so crave a giant Sloppy Joe (the king of all camp foods) on occasion- to remind me of those times.

Food is strong. It creates an identity and ties us to it. It connects us to who we are, who we were, where we are and were, how we feel and felt. There is a power in food, not just to feed, satisfy and sustain, but also to define and connect.

Check out one of my friend's blog, all about baseball-- The International Pastime
Check out what MSNBC has to say about the 10 Foods That Make America Great"

*stay tuned to this post for updated photos in the next few days*

Historical Culinary Women

"I am love," said the maiden. "I am a strength giver, I am the nourisher, I am the provider of men and animals. They all love me." -Penobscot Corn Mother Myth

I am a woman and I love to cook. Is that enough to say? I don’t think so.

There is an assumption, a stereotype, a social construction about females and food. One might think that this stereotype should have died away after the 1950s, or the second wave feminist movement of the 80s, or certainly by the late 90s, and definitely by the start of the 21st century. I, however, have found otherwise.

Often, when talking about my life, my childhood, and my home, people are a little surprised to find that my dad cooked just as many if not more of the meals in my childhood than did my mom. Looking back, I know that my mom also cooked dinner quite often. But for some reason it is the image of my dad standing in front of the stove that stands out in my mind. Now I am sure there are many factors that contributed to this memory and the past reality. Yet, I still wonder why this image is so striking within my memory, and more generally, why gender and the act of cooking is so engrained in our culture.

I have recently begun reading A Thousand Years Over a Hot Stove, a book that studies, through historical relations, memoirs, stories, and recipes, the history of women and cooking, discussing these issues for a large portion of the writing. In addition, as an anthropology student, I hear a lot about different cultures and societies around the world, past and present. With this background, I wonder if women have been obligated to fulfill the position of food provider since the days of prehistoric hunter-gatherer societies. If so, how has this idea of obligation changed, yet stuck with us through the millennia? How did this idea become so trivial, passed over in recognition, but admired as a true necessity at the same time?

In the study of these hunting and gathering societies, I want to point out that women are often grouped into the gatherers without any question or discussion. The men hunted. The women gathered. Simple enough. Yet, when I hear this, I can’t help but picture in my head- strong brave men venturing forth to kill the beast. The women, in the meantime, frail and weak, surrounded by many children, (picture: damsel in distress) wandering aimlessly through forests picking berries and nuts. Not all that impressive when you compare the women to the brave men who conquered and killed a mammoth in order to feed the group, right?
Let us pause for a moment and ponder the reality of this situation.

The men, without armor, and equipped only with handmade spears of wood and shapes stones must attempt to bring down a wild animal. This animal would also likely have to be pretty large in size in order to feed the whole group. So, unless the men happened upon a large enough brood of rabbits or squirrels, we can imagine the men would have had to go after larger animals: deer, buffalo, or mammoth. That couldn’t have been easy. Nor could it have been likely that they would always bring food back after the hunt.

On the other hand, we have the women gatherers. The ones on whom the entire community depended when the men could not provide. These women were forced to find food to sustain her people. On their shoulders were the weight, expectations and dependency of an entire society. She had to find food, to begin with, but also investigate whether her findings were safe to eat, insure there was enough provisions for the whole, and learn how to prepare what she found to make the most out of it. So, yes, the woman easily became the one on whom everyone relied, the one who might be destined to hold the fuel for and survival of the people. But it was not because her purpose and worth was somehow valued less because of her sex. It was because she truly held the power. Without her, the people could not eat; without eating, the people could not survive. Therefore, there is a strongly misconstructed idea of women and food. Women were not originally confined to the kitchen because they could do no better. They went to the kitchen to claim their power and authority. It was then society that determined that women were best suited to reside in the kitchen. After all, it was the only place where they might have any power.

I think, perhaps, the reason that women have been so misrepresented and so confined to this single role is that men, who originally could not guarantee support and provisions for his people, wanted that power out of jealousy. And so, with the invention of better weapons and tools for hunting, men stole a title that was not rightfully theirs, forever labeling as women as domestics who clung to their only remaining power source.