Rule #23

Tonight, I decided to open up a new book that was given to me, select a page randomly, and write my thoughts about the matter. The new book is Michael Pollen's eaters manual, Food Rules. If you've followed Michael Pollen, food author extraordinaire, you would also know he is well known for other books such as the Omnivores Dilemma and In Defense of Food. What he has done in his latest book is select sixty four rules one can follow to make eating simple in terms of our daily decisions about food.

So, flipping to a page in my book led me to rule #23: Treat meat as a flavoring or special occasion food.

It's a fact that most Americans eat meat two or three times per day. Haven given up meat for Lent before, and not coming from a vegetarian background whatsoever, I can understand how hard it is to cut back on the amount of meat I eat. However, eating meat doesn't have to be an all or nothing endeavor. If we treat meat as a luxury, saving it for special occasion meals, it leaves us with more money in our pockets to buy more food, eat more nutritionally if we were to cut back on red meats, or perhaps spend the dollars we save to purchase grass fed or more expensive cuts of meat. If you begin to think differently about how you use meat in meals it is also easier to make that meat stretch by getting more money from your purchase and still yield a lot of flavor from your food. For instance, last week I purchased a ham hock. Anyone purchase one of those lately? Ham hocks, also known as hog jowls, pig's cheeks, or even pig's knuckles, is the pig's joint between the foot and the leg. It holds a tremendous amount of flavor, yet cost me only two dollars. Adding a ham hock to a large pot of soup is a great way to flavor a meal while adding very little meat. Thomas Jefferson was very wise when he recommended a mostly plant-based diet that uses meat chiefly as a "flavor principal". See what you can do to limit your meat intake to even just one meal a day, or better yet a handful of meals a week, and you will be making a big difference for our planet and your pocket book.

Digging in the Dirt

Last night, as I was going to bed, I read a little out of a book called, How I Learned to Cook. It chronicles world class chefs who've written short essays on lessons they learned in their early lives and careers. I must say, I've only read 47 pages, to be exact, but what stopped me there to pause and notice the page number was a short paragraph.

I've been fine tuning my culinary point of view, for a little while now, but didn't quite know how to put it into words until I came across his, Chris Bianco. Have you heard of him? I hadn't until I read his chapter, Digging in the Dirt, in my book. Chris Bianco is famous for his Italian and southwest cuisine. His restaurant in Arizona, Pizzeria Bianco, is suppose to serve the best pizza in America. Pizza on earth and good will to all! This is a huge accomplishment coming from someone with simple beginnings.

Chris Bianco said he learned to eat well before he learned to cook. In fact, for much of his early life he thought of cooking as a chore. Can you believe it? It wasn't until he took a trip to Italy with his Italian father that his eyes opened to discover there was meaning behind the food. He listened to his Uncle tell the story of the pig before he ate his prosciutto and stared out the window as his Uncle pointed to the wine country to say this is where my wine came from. Their last stop took them to his Uncle's friend's asparagus farm. As guests, he expected a lavish meal to await him but was surprised to see a rustic picnic table next to a propane fueled single burner stove. His Uncle's friend took them on a tour before they would sit down for lunch. They unearthed a hefty bundle of asparagus and tied it together with butcher's twine. And in no time at all his Uncle's friend disappeared into the barn and returned with a half dozen eggs. He plunged the twine wrapped asparagus into the pot of boiling water and followed with the eggs. His wife laid down a ceramic platter on the table, she pulled out the asparagus, snipped the twine, and scattered them on the platter. Next she took the hard boiled eggs, peeled and then crumbled them right on top of that asparagus. They doused everything with splashes of wine, sea salt, and cracked pepper. Chris Bianco's life was changed forever.

And you may ask, how could such a simple experience make such a difference to a young man? The following is an excerpt from his essay,

"At the table, there was an unassuming sense of pride in what we shared and our hosts' role in that gift. I am eternally grateful for the meal they served because that's when it happened: everything about food made sense to me for the first time. I thought, 'There's the dirt, there's what's pushing out of the dirt, there's what's harvested from the dirt, and here is how you celebrate what comes from the dirt.' That was how you were suppose to eat."

So, if I don't make it to page 48 for awhile, it's because I too have decided to do some digging in the dirt.

Eat Real Food

Famed food writer Michael Pollen talks about his book In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto. He encourages people to eat food, not too much, and mostly plants. Listen to an interview with the author featured on NPR and learn about our food system and how you can begin eating well.

Plenty

"Man is free and everywhere is in chain stores."- Graffiti

After reading the book Plenty, about a couple's year long adventure of eating locally produced foods within 100 miles of their British Columbia home, I realized I have a lot of learning to do. They came to discover that a typical food ingredient found in a family meal travels roughly 2,000 miles before it reaches a supermarket shelf and then to the plate on your table. Beginning this experiment, they overestimated their enthusiasm and began to second guess themselves. It was a challenge. They lost weight because their diet consisted of little else but potatoes. As they began to discover the ecology of their region, the agricultural growing seasons of the local produce, and formed relationships with farmers and area store merchants, they began to see scarcity transform into bounty. Meals consisting of strictly potatoes turned into sandwiches filled with peppers, grilled mushrooms, and "delectably oozing goat cheese". They soon discovered a revitalization of their spirit anchored in tradition, culture, and community. They were transformed by a sense of freedom from the automatic, impersonal tendency to grab what is around to seeking what can be found. They recognized a self sufficiency in themselves that only comes with hard work and a rooted awareness of belonging to a place and feeling a part of it. Which makes me wonder, how well do I know my home, my place in the Pacific Northwest?

This got me thinking about urban life and how easy it is to become disconnected from nature. Recently I was listening to a segment on NPR called, This Ain't No Walk in the Park, about a young woman taking her anxieties of the outdoors to a whole new level by attempting to overcome her fear of dirt, bugs, grass, and everything natural. City kid or not, we are all faced with the challenge of not only feeling a part of nature and our place in it, but educating ourselves so we have the knowledge to make informed decisions about where our food comes from, what impacts we are making on the environment, and using our bountiful resources wisely and in a way that leads to healthier, peaceful, and community based lives.

In order to discover the plenty of what is before us, why not participate in the growing effort to reconnect ourselves and our lifestyles back to nature? Start by discovering something new about where it is you call home. This week find out what is in season (Seattle produce calender) at your local farmers market or take advantage of a sunny day and identify common bird or plant species on a nature walk. Whatever you do, unlock the chains that keep you strictly in the supermarket or on pavement and find your way back to something natural.