Hannah Wallace

An Upbeat Food, Inc. for Kids

On a family vacation in Ohio's Cuyahoga National Park a few years ago, fifth grade New Yorkers Sadie Hope-Gund and Safiyah Kai Riddle saw a chicken lay an egg and tasted the best cherry tomatoes "ever."

"I was like, 'Woah'," recalls Safiyah, now an 8th grader at the Manhattan Academy of Technology in Chinatown. "I thought you see everything in New York. You see everything—but not farming!"

The seeds had been planted for "What's on your Plate?" a documentary the girls spent the next two years making with Sadie's mom, filmmaker Catherine Gund. The movie, which aired last week on the Discovery Channel's Planet Green, is a spirited look at our unsustainable food system and how we can change it.

Two weeks ago, I sat down with Sadie, Safiyah, and Catherine over slices of (locally made!) Balthazar cake to talk about "bad" vegetarians, why good food should not be a luxury, and the importance of not telling other people what to eat. Check out my blog about the movie, which I did for the Atlantic Monthly's food channel. An edited Q&A of my conversation with the gals will soon be available at The Faster Times.

For upcoming screenings of "What's on your Plate" see here.

Beyond Organic Wine

Food trends are typically followed by parallel trends in wine. Witness the recent focus on organic, biodynamic, and local wines—at restaurants and wine shops across the country. But, just as the locavore movement has begun spurning mere organic produce (consecrating “beyond organic” farmers such as Joel Salatin as movement heros), fans of terroir—let’s call them terroir-ists—are touting something called natural wines. 

For a quick primer, read my blog about natural wine bars (and restaurants with extensive natural wine selections), published in T: Magazine's The Moment blog. If you haven’t read Alice Feiring’s book The Battle for Wine and Love, you should. (For Alice Feiring’s definition of natural wines, see here. There is, so far, no certification process or label for natural wines.)

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 communty 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.

Coffee Culture in NYC

When I first came to New York City almost 15 years ago, I was dismayed by how few independent coffee shops there were. I liked Oren’s Daily Roast, and when I moved to Brooklyn, I frequented Ozzie’s in Park Slope. And then there was that strange café run by Moonies in midtown that brewed Green Mountain coffee from Vermont. But other than that, coffee in this city was mediocre at best. I couldn't understand why some savvy entrepreneur didn't open a Pacific Northwest-style café—they'd make a killing. 

Well, a lot has happened over the past 8 or so years, starting with Ninth Street Espresso, Joe the Art of Coffee, and Gimme! (in Williamsburg). But even since I reported my story on coffee cuppings last year, the number of "third-wave" coffee shops here has mushroomed. I can't keep up with the openings, mostly in Brooklyn, but some in Manhattan. (There are also a number of existing cafes that are switching to higher-quality roasters, such as City Girl on Orchard St., which now serves Stumptown.) In short, it's a good time to be a coffee drinker in New York City. (It's about time.)

That was the gist of a panel I was on yesterday at the first ever NYC Coffee Summit, hosted by the International Culinary Center and Edible Manhattan. I spoke about coffee education from the consumer's perspective: how can the typical NYC coffee drinker learn to distinguish between an Ethiopian Yirgacheffe and a Brazilian pulped natural of the Catuai variety? How can he or she learn how to make a great cup of coffee at home? My answer: chat up your barista, go to cuppings (and "home brewing" classes), and read coffee blogs.

Here's a list of cuppings and classes offered (mostly for free) in NYC and environs:

• Counter Culture coffee holds weekly cuppings on Friday at noon at Everyman Espresso (136 E 13th St between Third and Fourth Aves) and at 6PM at Roots & Vines (409 Grand St at Clinton St..) In June, they’ll start public cuppings at their brand new New York training facility.

• Café Grumpy has cuppings once a week at both locations—the dates and times are posted on their Web site. They'll also be hosting barista classes and home brewing classe @ the Chelsea location as soon as their back room renovation is complete.

• Joe the Art of Coffee has cuppings the first Monday of every month at 6:30 at the 13th street training facility, but also classes on "How to Brew Coffee at Home." (The next one is May 12 at 8:15 PM.)

• Intelligentsia has weekly cuppings at their new NYC "training lab" but also brewed-coffee tastings (the different profiles from french press vs chemex, for example), espresso tastings (four different single origins in a tasting), food and coffee pairings, plus home brewing classes, latte art classes, espresso classes, and "seed-to-cup" classes. (Daniel Humphries, now Intell's NYC guy, tells me he'll have another coffee and cheese pairing soon—not sure if that'll be under the aegis of the NYC Coffee Society or Intell.)

• Ken Nye tells me that Ninth Street Espresso (which now serves Intelligentsia) will start cuppings and other workshops soon, most likely at the 10th Street/tompkins Square location. 

• Gimme! in Williamsburg has cuppings every so often—but they rarely advertise, so if you live in the 'hood, just ask a barista.

• Stumptown will start regular cuppings at Café Pedlar in Cobble Hill (or is it Carroll Gardens?) soon. (Probably Saturday afternoons.) A few of their NYC accounts hold cuppings: Variety Cafe (one of my new favorites), and Marlow and Sons (81 Broadway in Williamsburg). Lizz Hudson from Stumptown is doing a cupping on May 13 @ Spoon Catering at 17 W. 20th St.

For more on NYC's vibrant coffee scene (and its early history), see Liz Clayton's article in the latest issue of Edible Manhattan.

And finally, for those of you who could use a guide to all these third-wave cafés, check out Anne Nylander and Neil Oney's NYC and Brooklyn coffee tours. (Anne and Neil own TampTamp, Inc., a specialty coffee service firm.)

One more thing: If you're truly obsessed with coffee, James Hoffman's blog is an education in and of itself. Hoffman, who won the World Barista Championship in 2007, is based in London and I can guarantee that he's more obsessed with coffee than you are. He posts about barista championships, food chemistry, roasting and latte art, but don't miss the videocasts of him brewing coffee with the Chemex, Moka Pot, and even with snow. 

Now, it's time for another cup of Ecco Caffé's Fazenda Serra do Bone from Brazil...

BIG BUSINESS ANSWER TO LOCAVORE’S PRAYERS?

Any self-respecting Michael Pollan-subscribing locavore knows that when it comes to supporting local farmers and artisanal food makers, small equals good while big equals bad—even if big is organic.

And this binary formula must hold true if the gargantuan company of the moment is Sysco, the $37 billion food distributor known for trucking frozen foods and canned goods to most fast food restaurants, university cafeterias, and hospitals around this sprawling country—not exactly bastions of fine dining, or places where fresh produce even makes an appearance on menus. (Before he died a few years ago, founder John Baugh, who started the company in 1970, was even known for saying, “Frozen foods taste better than anything I could grow in my garden.”)

But now that many big box companies have jumped on the sustainable, organic bandwagon—Wal-Mart now sells organic produce, and most of the 800 Chipotle outlets in this country get some of their produce from local farms—what’s a card-carrying Locavore to think? (The Charlottesville, VA, Chipotle even sources its pork from Joel Salatin’s Polyface Farm in Virginia—heralded by Pollan in “The Omnivore’s Dilemma” for being a sustainable, pasture-based farm that's "beyond organic.")

A cynic would say these companies are just capitalizing on a consumer trend—that they’re more keen on making money off of conscientious shoppers who are nevertheless too lazy to sign up for a CSA share (or shop at their local farmers’ market) than they are committed to supporting local food economies. 

But would those contrarians be correct in this case?  Actually, Sysco, long the epitome of industrial agribusiness, maligned by sustainable-food activists and eaters alike, turns out to be doing a damned good job of nurturing regional and local hubs. Under the leadership of progressive CEO Rick Schnieders, the company now partners with Amish and Mennonite farmers in Kansas; artisanal bakers, coffee roasters, and dairies in Oregon; and hundreds of small New England farmers. Some of our country’s top restaurants now get their produce and other hard-to-source ingredients from Sysco: Daniel in New York and Nobu and Gordon Ramsay’s in Los Angeles, for example. Dan Barber (the chef at Blue Hill Stone Barns, recently featured on Top Chef) is a fan.

In fact, in the April issue of Saveur, writer Indira Sen tracks down Schnieders at the Sysco headquarters to see why Barber recently praised the company (to much controversy, she reports) at the Slow Food conference in San Francisco last fall.

The main reason is the company’s fresh produce division, called FreshPoint, which has 35 or so hubs around the country. The Connecticut division is run by David Yandow, a former farmer himself, who sees no conflict between working for Sysco and supporting regional farmers (who, by the way, he’s worked with for most of his life). When I spoke to Yandow last year, he spoke of the long-term relationships he has with these farmers—he and his brothers sold their 130-year-old company to Sysco in 2005 but still run it pretty much the same way they always have, selling their seasonal produce to New England restaurants, grocery stores, and universities. Only now, Yandow has the resources (thanks to Sysco) to train farmers on good agricultural practices and advise them on what to grow, based on what regional chefs are demanding.

But Sysco is not distributing only locally, of course. It transports food from coast to coast all the time—organic salad greens from California to the East coast, for example, and not just in the winter. And how Green can you be when you’re transporting hundreds of millions of goods around the country every day? Sen, a skeptic herself, confronts Schneiders on this issue. By his calculations, though, Sysco logs less “food miles,” driving 1700 cases of organic greens from California to New York per case, than a farmer who drives eight cases 40 miles to a farmer’s market and back. (Paul Roberts makes a similar case in his Mother Jones cover story this month.)

Schneiders is a pragmatist. If giant food companies like Sysco are here to stay—and they are, because our sprawling country and industrialized food system rely upon their efficient hub-and-spoke networks—why not reform them, imbuing them with at least some of the values of the sustainable-food movement?  And what’s wrong with making money while doing the right thing? 

Purists may still scoff that Sysco remains the bad guy, that the only way for this country’s food system to change is if everyone (including chefs) buys produce exclusively from our farmers’ markets or via a CSA share. But this is a Romantic notion, one that doesn’t take into account the fact that there are billions of people to feed in this country—most of whom cannot afford to pay $1,000 up-front for a share in a CSA. (Or who don't have a farmer's market in their neighborhood.) At a time when family-run farms need all the business they can get, it may only be through the distribution efforts (regional and national) of giants like Sysco that they can make a living.

JANERA.com anti-slavery fundraiser this Thursday

We interrupt our regular programming for a moment to plug JANERA.com, a fabulous organization I work for, and our upcoming fundraiser for the Somaly Mam Foundation this Thursday.
 
Details are here.

And here's the short version:  

Chelsea Art Museum - 26 March

9pm - 1am

Speaker E. Benjamin Skinner, author of "A Crime So Monstrous," great music, open bar

$40 in advance RSVP 

$50 at the door

If you want to learn more about modern-day slavery, buy Ben Skinner's book (now out in paperback) and read my interview with him.

Raw Milk—still controversial?

Raw milk continues to be a hot topic in the news—especially now that Connecticut is talking about restricting the sale of raw milk to farms and farmers' markets. (Connecticut, like California, has been one of the few states where farmers can sell raw milk in health food stores, as long as it is clearly labeled as such.)

On Friday, the Brian Lehrer show tackled the issue, inviting NYU nutrition professor Marion Nestle to weigh in ("I see no reason why we can't produce safe raw milk") and Connecticut state representative and economist Diana Urban, who sets the record straight re: the E. coli outbreak in CT last fall that was traced to a dairy in Simsbury. (The bottles of milk were not labeled as raw, which is what CT state law requires. "It was to do with poor management," Urban says.)

The whole segment is worth listening to if only to hear listener Rosalind tell how she uprooted her boys from NYC when they were diagnosed with ADD and ADHD and gave them a life of raw milk on a farm in the country (and other real foods, one would assume) instead of pharmaceuticals. Her enthusiasm for the beverage ("it contains more omega 3s than we could get anywhere else!") is contagious.

Urban, who grew up on a Long Island dairy farm drinking unpasteurized milk, explains why the law (should it pass) would be the death of small farmers in her state: they are living on such small margins as it is that they may have to go out of business if they can't sell at Whole Foods and other health food stores. 

As one CT dairy farmer in this NYT article says, "If you don't want to drink it, don't drink it."

Hat tip to Rachel Stevens for tipping me off to the WNYC segment.

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The Truth about Lipitor

Sally Fallon's talk last week inspired me to delve into the latest research on cholesterol and statins. Though this investigative article is over a year old (it was BusinessWeek's cover story last January 17th), it's one of the most thorough I could find on the subject of statins (specifically, Pfizer's blockbuster drug Lipitor) and their inability to significantly reduce heart attacks in any but those who have already had heart disease. 

Journalist John Carey's main points, in case you don't have time to read the whole thing:

1. Pfizer has mislead the public (as most pharmaceutical companies do) by using this dramatic statistic in its ads: Lipitor reduces the risk of heart attack by 36%. Read the fine print, and you'll see that in a large clinical study, only 1 person out of 100 was spared a heart attack after taking Lipitor for 3 years. (In scientific parlance, Lipitor has a very high NNT—number needed to treat—of 100. Compare that to the standard antibiotic therapy to treat H. pylori stomach bacteria, which has an NNT of 1.1—10 out of 11 people will be cured.) 

2. 10-15% of statin users suffer side effects including muscle pain, cognitive impairments, and sexual dysfunction. Small prices to pay if you're definitely preventing a heart attack. But if after 3 years of these unhappy developments you only reduce your risk of coronary events by 1 out of 100—you have to ask yourself if Lipitor is worth taking. (Not to mention its high price tag—if not to you directly, then to insurance companies, Medicare, and ultimately back to you via taxes.)

3. Though Lipitor indisputably lowers cholesterol levels, many scientists are raising doubts that we need to drive down our cholesterol levels in the first place. (i.e. the whole cholesterol hypothesis of heart disease is under intense scrutiny.)  As Dr. Ronald M. Krauss, director of atherosclerosis research at the Oakland Research Institute says in the article, "When you look at patients with heart disease, their cholesterol levels are not that [much] higher than those without heart disease."  John Carey, the reporter, continues:

Compare countries, for example. Spaniards have LDL levels similar to Americans', but less than half the rate of heart disease. The Swiss have even higher cholesterol levels, but their rates of heart disease are also lower. Australian aborigines have low cholesterol but high rates of heart disease.

It's starting to look like Sally Fallon and Mary Enig, Gary Taubes, Uffe Ravnskov (author of the out-of-print "Cholesterol Myths"), and other "cholesterol skeptics" (as they're known) should not have been so quickly dismissed.

The Oiling of America—why saturated fats deserve a second chance

Last night, I attended a riveting talk by Sally Fallon, president and founder of the Weston A. Price Foundation and author of Nourishing Traditions: The Cookbook that Challenges Politically Correct Nutrition and the Diet Dictocrats. The sanctuary of the Community Church of New York was packed—a sign to me that even New Yorkers have an increased interest in the traditional diets that Price encountered on his travels around the world in the 1930's.

Tall and regal, with a mane of white hair, Fallon stepped up to the podium and began detailing the history of the lipid hypothesis, which is, of course, still accepted as the gospel Truth in the U.S.  Americans ate a diet high in saturated fats in the early 20th century (to illustrate, Fallon read a list of buttery, creamy, lard-filled recipes from an 1895 cookbook published by the Baptist society of Illinois), yet the first recorded heart attack wasn't until 1921. By the time Americans had shifted their diets to include more vegetable oils and processed foods in the 1960s, 500,000 were dying of heart attack.

Two theories emerged as to why so many Americans were suddenly dying of heart disease. One was that vegetable oils, which had recently been introduced into the diet, were to blame; the other was the diet-heart theory (aka the lipid hypothesis)—that Americans were eating too much saturated fat and had high serum cholesterol levels. Despite the fact that there was little evidence for the latter (in fact, a study by Harvard pathologists Lande and Sperry of 1936 showed that there was no correlation between cholesterol levels and atherosclerosis), the lipid hypothesis was the theory that was promoted "with great vigor," according to Fallon. An organization was even founded to promote it and something called the "prudent diet": the American Heart Association.

I won't reiterate the entire sordid saga—which is full of industry pressure (Proctor & Gamble, et all), doctored study results, and plenty of medical professionals who were skeptical of the lipid hypothesis, including the American Medical Association—but I did have two "A-ha" moments. One was when Fallon told us how Mary Enig, who did her PhD thesis on trans fats at the University of Maryland, realized that most foods that contained trans fats (margarine, vegetable shortening, cookies, chips, etc.) were not labeled as such—food companies actually listed trans fats as saturated fats until the 1980's. So researchers using government databases (in particular, one called the National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey or NHANES II) came to the erroneous conclusion that saturated fats were causing disease—when in fact trans fats were to blame.  Every epidemiological study done before 1980 (that had to do with saturated fat intake and heart disease), Fallon says, is extremely suspect.

The other was that the Framingham Heart study (one of the three studies most often cited by our government to bolster the lipid hypothesis) was presented in a misleading way. (See slide #13 on Fallon's PPT presentation.) The intervals on the bar graph start out evenly spaced (with 30 points between each cholesterol number), but the final interval is a whopping 830 points—making the increase in heart disease at the upper-end of the cholesterol spectrum appear drastic. Fallon showed us what the heart disease line would look like if the intervals were evenly spaced, with 30 points between cholesterol numbers: it's almost horizontal. The upshot: if your cholesterol level is 1000 (a very rare condition) you have a slightly increased risk of heart disease.

I'm going to stop there, because I hope to write more about this controversial subject in the future. But for those who are interested, here's a link to "The Oiling of America" talk on DVD and an article version is on the Weston A. Price site.

Lufthansa's new lounge @ JFK

I went to the opening party for this swish new premium lounge at JFK on the very same day that Captain Sully safely landed a US Airways jet on the Hudson. What a day for aviation!    

Read my short blog about the lounge, which I wrote for T: Travel's of-the-moment site.

Slovenian wines

It's been five years since my first trip to Slovenia, a country I now know better than my own. (Not hard: Slovenia is 7,827 square miles—half the size of Switzerland or roughly the size of New Jersey.)

One of the first things you discover about Slovenia—whether you're in Ljubljana or a mountain hamlet—is that this is a country with an established wine culture.  At every restaurant, you are offered a sparkling white wine called zlata penina before your appetizer arrives and your waiter then expects you to order a bottle of Veliko Rosso (a full-bodied red) or Tocai (a fruity white) to have with your meal. There are three wine regions and 40,000 registered wineries, according to the Oxford Companion to Wine. As Alder Yarrow says on his blog Vinography, that's probably why Slovenian wines are so off the radar in the rest of the world.  ("Most producers are so small that they wouldn't have enough wine to sell on the global market even if they could afford to get it there.")

Yet that is not true of one of our favorites, Movia, which can be found at some of the better wine shops and restaurants across the U.S. This is wholly due to the tireless (and some would say obsessive) efforts of Aleš Kristanic, Movia's maverick, passionate owner, who travels constantly to promote his somewhat esoteric biodynamic wines to the rest of the world. When we dropped by his villa in the Brda Hills (on the border of Italy's Friuli region) several years ago, we met a half-dozen fascinating people—some of whom we're still in touch with—including a woman from Tokyo who distributes Movia in Japan.

I'm thinking of Movia lately because we plan to crack open a bottle of "Lunar" tonight as well as a bottle of "Puro"—both unusual biodynamic wines that are Aleš's babies. (We couldn't get our hands on a plain old bottle of zlata penina.)  I tasted Lunar, an unfiltered wine that's bottled during the full moon (and has absolutely zero sulfites), a few months back when I ran into Aleš at my local wine shop, Uva. It's a very unusual wine—orange in color and a bit cloudy, with hints of cider and orange blossom. (To see a typical scene of Aleš doing his best to explain Lunar, see this video.)

Michael trying to loosen the cork on the Puro.

Puro is an "undisgorged" sparkling white (meaning the sediment from the grape is aged with the wine) that will require a little work on our part. It has a plug of yeast in the neck of the bottle; Michael has already turned it upside down and we will transfer it to an ice bucket—still upside down—twenty minutes before we open it so the yeasty part will freeze into an easily removable "plug." It sounds, as my dad just remarked, like this wine needs a midwife!

"When you finally get it in your glass," says Yarrow, in his tasting notes about the Puro, "it is a slightly cloudy, pale gold color, with a nose of toasted brioche and brewers yeast. In the mouth it is beautifully crisp and very mineral with a honeyed quality that plays counterpoint to the calcium quality of the wine."  Aleš believes the sediment is the soul of the wine and to filter it out long before opening would lessen the wine's integrity. We hope a little of that soul—and Aleš's lunar magic—comes through, bringing a little bit of Slovenia into our Brooklyn living room.

Why I love Emirates

I just returned from Sri Lanka yesterday afternoon and my head is spinning from a glorious whirlwind trip. Bookending my visit—which included four days exploring the southern coast and four days in Colombo, where I stayed with my sister (who has been living there since September, researching her  PhD dissertation)—were two extraordinarily pleasant flights on Emirates.

I flew Economy Class both ways, so I didn't get to try out the much-heralded First Class shower on the A380, but I was impressed nonetheless. Not only is the food superb (lunch was four courses, not including a cheese course), but the service was impeccable—American flight attendants could learn a thing or two from the efficient Emirates flight crew, all of whom have eternally sunny dispositions. They actually seem happy to be there, brandishing hot wet washcloths, serving you tea between meals ("Would you like some biscuits with that?"), and even (in one case I saw) fondly holding your baby in the galley so you can go to the loo.   

Best of all, and most relevant for whoever may be reading this, Emirates put me up at a hotel at the Dubai airport—FOR FREE!   I had a nine-hour layover in Dubai on the way out and knew I'd be desperate for sleep. While researching my hotel options, I came across this lovely passage on the Emirates web site. Basically, if you're layover is longer than 8 hours, the airline will pay for you to stay at the Millenium Airport Hotel.  (They also gave me vouchers for breakfast, a snack, and dinner—but I'd been so well fed on the flight that I saw no need to use them.)   I took a five-hour nap, had a shower and checked my e-mail and was refreshed and excited for the second leg of my flight.

Also, the choice of on-demand movies and TV shows was fabulous (I watched 30 Rock and Fawlty Towers) as were the techie amenities, especially on the A380: an outlet to recharge my laptop and a wireless Internet access. Oh, and how could I forget?  The coffee was excellent. 

Flying Emirates made me excited to travel again, not just wish (as I so often do when I fly American airlines) that there was a time machine that could transport me to my destination instantly.

Paris, Gare du Nord

       

Note to coffee entrepreneurs: you could make a killing opening a high-end coffee kiosk here. This enormous station, bustling with humanity each morning, is void of good, strong coffee—or any espresso at all, as far as I can tell. (I’ve been to at least two patisseries that advertise espresso and both tell me that they don’t, in fact, have it.)  I’ve settled for a weak café crème, which tastes a bit like watered-down Dunkin’ Donuts coffee, heavy on the crème.

This lack of good coffee is typical of Paris—even at well known, popular cafes. (Fauchon’s boulangerie/café being the exception.) As luck would have it, on the last day of this trip, I discovered Café Verlet—an unpretentious little shop on the Rue St. Honoré.  I’d walked past it on our first day in town and—spotting its burlap bags of coffee beans and trays of glace fruit artfully displayed in the window—made a mental note to return.  Then, a few days later, a dear friend (a foodie who loves Paris and had lived here years ago) e-mailed to say she’d forgotten to tell me about this excellent café near our hotel, where all French connoisseurs (including Catherine Deneuve) buy their coffee…

Long story short, I spent three hours the next morning at Verlet, sampling and savoring single-origin espressos. The coffee menu is separated into regions—the Americas, Africa, Asia, etc.—with a special section for blends. The shots are pulled on a La Marzocco espresso machine and served in a green mug, the saucer of which is shaped like a leaf. (They also have an amazing selection of teas and a small food menu.)  I will spare you my tasting notes, but needless to say, the coffee was bold, flavorful, and exquisite.

So all you coffee fiends—if you find yourself in the City of Lights, don’t give up hope. (Or do what I did and settle for Starbucks—which frankly, made the best brewed coffee  I had in Paris, and also had free Wi-Fi.)  Verlet is on the Right Bank a block or so from the Louvre and a few blocks from the Palais Royale.   

Clovermania!

In the August issue of Wired magazine, there's an in-depth story about the future of the Clover, that sexy little stainless steel machine you may have noticed at your local (highly evolved) coffee shop. It was with great relief that I read that Starbucks (which acquired the small Seattle-based company that invented and makes the Clover in March) has agreed to service the 250 Clovers that are already out there at other (non-Starbucks) cafes. (This would include my local café in Williamsburg, El Beit, where I've reverted to drinking my coffee black, so as to better appreciate the nuances of a Clover coffee.) Annoyingly, reports author Mathew Honan, the coffee behemoth will stop its goodwill there: it will not be selling Clovers to indie coffee shops from now on.

I'm sure this article (and this topic) has generated a lot of verbiage in the coffee blogosphere, so I'm going to keep this entry short.  But I do think Howard Schultz should rethink this plan of cornering the market on Clovers.  Let the customer decide who makes the best Clover coffee—your local Starbucks or your local independent ("third wave" or what have you) coffee shop

Check out this video for a demo on how the Clover works.

The Grand Tour & Coffee in Istanbul

I've just returned from a month-long jaunt across Europe—Basel, Berlin, Munich (for one night), Slovenia,  and, ultimately, Istanbul. In Basel, where I did a few blogs from Art Basel for JANERA.com, I frequented smoky cafes and ultimately succumbed to the nastiest head cold I think I've ever had. Despite Basel's fame as a pharmaceutical town, I couldn't find anything to top Sudafed's nighttime formula; the strongest sinus meds at the Coop pharmacy was an aspirin + pseudoephedrine powder that I mixed into water a few times a day. To cheer myself up, I spent a morning at the Basel Zoo, which, it turns out, is Switzerland's second largest attraction after the Rheinfall. 

Berlin was better—we went to artist Richard Long's opening at Haunch of Venison and stayed at the Q Hotel, where I nursed myself back to health at the awesome basement sauna. (Note to hotel staff: you should try changing the bland hip/lifestyle CD every so often, just for variety's sake.) 

But our vacation didn't really start until Slovenia, where we spent three nights at a beautiful tourist farm in the Karst region (the country's Slow Food region, which is a 20 minute drive from Italy) and ate incredible meals with excellent local wines. Then it was on to Lake Bled, about which I will say very little except for that it's paradise on earth. This was our third trip to Slovenia and each time we go, we uncover new (to us) fabulous restaurants, more pristine hiking trails, and (for me) new story ideas.

My impressions of Istanbul, an overwhelming city of at least 12 million people (we kept hearing higher figures from our taksim drivers--one, when I said I'd heard there were 15 million Istanbullus, insisted that there were, in fact, 18 million), are still forming but it's a nuanced and complicated city that certainly requires more than five days to figure out. We stayed two nights on the Bosphorus and three in Sultanahmet, the old city, where we were awakened every morning by the 4:30 call to prayer from dozens of nearby mosques (including Hagia Sophia, which though it's a museum and not a functioning mosque still has a muezzin belting out prayers from one of its minarets five times a day). The JANERA.com dinner salon was a success—check back here for my blog in a few days—and Michael and I had lunch with an art collector who is a member of one of Turkey's best known (and needless to say, wealthiest) dynasties. (It was quite an adventure to speed over the Bosphorus in his private boat to his fabulous house on the Asian side.)

The food was glorious in Istanbul--we ate lots of addictive meze, spicy meatballs (köfte), and, of course, all manner of kebab.  We dined with friends at an outpost of Kosebasi at Reina (this crazy nightclub overlooking the Bosphorus that has 6 high-end restaurants inside in addition to bars, dancing, etc.), had dinner on the rooftop of the Four Seasons Sultanahmet (global nomad salon), and, though we didn't get to Sofyali in Beyoglu (it was closed on Sunday), ate at a fantastic meyhane nearby called Gedikli. (The garlic yogurt dip, rich dolmathes, and marinated artichoke hearts were my favorite dishes.) 

Here, a photo of the scrumptious beef köfte at Tarihi Sultanahmet Koftecisi.  And yes, that's Fanta I'm drinking.

As for coffee (I knew you'd ask): I was disappointed by both of our hotels' lame attempts at cappuccino (too large and milky) and drip coffee (weak and just plain old bad). Turkish coffee was inevitably silty and not all that tasty. I resisted the many Starbucks outlets and stumbled upon my best cup of coffee at the unlikeliest of places: a Turkish jewelry chain. Storks has a cafe right near the Grand Bazaar; and there, in addition to cappuccino, you can order single origin coffees from Kenya, Sumatra, etc.—in a french press!  O.K., so my coffee cost 7 Turkish Lira (about $5.50) but it was worth it. I'm only sorry that the Frugal Traveler (AKA Matt Gross) couldn't join me. (He was touching down in Istanbul between Northern Cyprus and Bucharest to file a story but went to the wrong Storks—and our plans to meet for coffee and run through the Grand Bazaar one last time were dashed)

At any rate, after so many adventures, it's nice to be back in Brooklyn. Happy 4th of July!

Coffee Fact of the Day

Interesting tidbit I learned last night at a coffee cupping at Café Grumpy: there are 50 beans in each shot of espresso. So I'm drinking the equivalent of 100 beans each day when I have my small (double) latte at El Beit.

The Revolution Will Not be Pasteurized!

There aren't that many reporters who cover the raw milk beat, but I was happy to see an 8-page story on the subject by Nathanael Johnson in the current issue (April) of Harper's magazine. Those of you who read my story in Salon.com (click here for a refresher), should take a look. 

While it covers some of the same material that I did in my article, Johnson talks at length to Michael Schmidt, the Canadian farmer who went on a hunger strike after his farm was raided by national health inspectors, and  also visits Mark McAfee at Organic Pastures.   It's a great read and further evidence that there is a growing need in this country for unprocessed, whole, REAL foods that are made on a small scale by farmers who care more about the quality of their food (in this case, milk and other dairy products) than the bottom line.   

The raw milk movement in England

Ever since I wrote my raw milk story for Salon last January, i've been curious about how Europe is handling the pasteurized vs. non-pasteurized debate.  This article from yesterday's Guardian UK doesn't turn up anything terribly new, but at least it shows that the raw milk movement (part of the larger trend of eating locally produced, unprocessed foods) has hit my native land. (And apparently, it's legal to buy raw milk on the farms, though not in stores.)
With thanks to my step-sister Sophie for sending along the link!

The neti pot: why it's so cool

This morning I woke with a terrible sinus headache, as I sometimes do when the seasons change.  Now, I have nothing against Sudafed--I love the headache relief formula, in fact.  But it doesn't always work.  And the Advil I had taken at 3 a.m., didn't do a thing: my head was still pounding.  The neti is a small, stainless-steel pot that you fill with lukewarm water and pour through one nostril, letting it cleanse your sinuses and come out the other nostril (flushing out all sorts of stuff that should not be in your sinuses!). I ran one pot through each side and my headache was gone: viola!  (Granted, your nose runs for a good hour after using the neti pot, but at least you're not stuffed up anymore.)

If it sounds complicated or intimidating, listen to this short item that ran on NPR last winter. 

Also, it was recently brought to my attention that Dr. Oz mentioned the neti pot on Oprah's show back in April!  Oz said, "The [ear, nose and throat] doctors who are specialists in this area will often say this is a better treatment than a lot of the other drugs that we try to offer folks, because it mechanically cleans out the problem." Click here to see a summary of that show & what Dr. Oz said.

Note: i've heard from friends that the ceramic neti pots do break.  So I recommend the stainless steel model sold by Health + Yoga (www.healthandyoga.com)  Click here to go straight to it.

Industrial chemicals and why I want to move to Europe

I hardly needed another reason to move to Europe--but I've found one. In the current issue of Harper's, Mark Schapiro has written an exhaustively researched article (which I think may be adapted from his new book) about how lax the U.S. has been about regulating toxic chemicals.  The Toxic Substances Control Act, passed in 1976, has absolutely no teeth. In fact, its "loophole" (which to me seems to negate the entire point of the legislation), is that every chemical on the market before 1979 was exempted from the law's screening requirements!  As a result, over 60,000 potentially hazardous chemicals are still used in everything from children's pajamas to cosmetics in the U.S.  Many Americans—those that still naively trust their government—think that because it's for sale, it's been vetted and is safe. Schapiro quotes Robert Donkers, an EU official who has reviewed Europe's regulatory laws as saying, "The assumption among Americans is 'If it's on the market, it's okay.' That fantasy is gone in Europe."

The E.U. has passed legislation called REACH that will have far-flung repercussions--even in the U.S. (Any company that hopes to sell its products to the E.U. will have to follow REACH's mandates.) REACH places the onus of testing a chemical and proving that it's safe on the manufacturers.

Unsurprisingly, the U.S. government teamed up with the chemical industry to lobby vigorously against REACH, which they say will cost American chemical producers tens of billions of dollars in lost exports. (Wahh!)
But—ha!—they lost.

And as Schapiro points out, the  E.U. has now surpassed the U.S. both in population and in wealth, so they are now calling the shots when it comes to both economic and moral leadership. (Thank god.) Furthermore, even if U.S. manufacturers don't comply (and even if we don't get Clinton or Obama in 2008, who would hopefully rectify Bush's environmental backwardness), informed American consumers can opt to buy European products that have been tested and proven safe over American products that contain all sorts of nasty chemicals. 

To read more, click here

And a few more facts if you don't have time to read the full article:

• In 2005, Greenpeace released a study that found numerous toxic chemicals in the umbilical cord blood of European infants.

• That same year, World Wildlife Fund International tested the blood of three generations of women from twelve European countries and found 63 chemicals in the group of grandmothers. But the next highest level of chemicals were found among their grandchildren, aged 12-28. (They had 59 toxic chemicals each). One of these women, who later sent Schapiro her test results, had brominated flame retardants (potential liver, thyroid and neurological toxins taht are used to coat electronics), DDT and lindane (the latter of which is suspected of contributing to breast and other cancers), perfluroinated chemicals (known carcinogens used as stain and water repellents on clothing, furniture and non-stick cookware), and artificial musk aromas.

• In 2005, our very own CDC tested the blood of a cross-section of Americans and found 148 toxic chemicals. A vast majority of the subjects harbored almost all the toxins.

• Also in 2005, the CDC's National Survey on Family Growth concluded that the rates of infertility were rising for women under the age of 25, a spike many scientists attribute (at least in part) to routine exposure to toxic chemicals.

It's Election Day!

And you know what that means: It's time to get out and vote.
Lest you need some reminders as to why this is CRUCIAL--take a look at this smart montage that some anonymous video artist put up on You Tube today. (Thanks to both Amy and Peter for sending me the link!)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wm2OXQh3duI

Jesus!

I saw a very disturbing documentary last night called Jesus Camp. It's a straightforward look at some evangelical Christians in North Dakota, particulary one, "Pastor Becky," who runs a "Kids on Fire" summer camp for kids (ages 9-12, roughly) who are already well on the way to being proselytized by their parents, who teach (among other things) that global warming is a theory (and why should we care if it IS true, since we won't be very long on this earth, anyway?) and that to read (or watch) Harry Potter is a sin. (Because he's a warlock.)
Everyone in the Brooklyn theatre my friend Clark and I were in was laughing, albeit nervously. Laughing because it was all so absurd and unreal--nervously because unfortunately, this scenario is all too real. (An aside: it's helpful to remember that kids seek drama and are also more susceptible to peer pressure than are adults. Which is another reason Pastor Becky and others like her are so insiduous. They are taking advantage of a child's natural desire for structure and drama by drumming one-sided, black & white--and wrong--information into these kids' heads and getting them to participate in warped rituals like using a hammer to smash a mug--I missed the symbolism here--and "speaking in tongues.")

Will these adorable (and articulate) kids realize they're being hoodwinked a few years from now, when they're teenagers and have sex drives and (hopefully) exposure to the secular world? Or will they be messed up for the rest of their lives? Or both?

Here's an interesting interview with the directors from Alternet: http://alternet.org/wiretap/42193/