Alex Testere will be playing the role of THE INGÉNUE in this year’s performance of “Why Do I Live in New York?”.  You may find him tucked safely inside a sweater on his fire escape, or talking to a Stevie Nicks record over a concoction of cardamom pods.  He revels in voracious daydreams, opaque paint, Oxford commas, and the clumsy stumbles of a tongue with a task.

_____

At the end of my first five months in gay ol’ New York City, among encounters with men of all shapes and sizes (heh), with razor blade lips and high-fashion pouts, with glistening eyes and affectionate brows; after inviting into my home countless opportunities for romance and profound mutual discovery, I have reached this ultimate conclusion: I’m better off with bread.

My restless Monday (Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday?) evenings with empty shot glasses and the lofty arrogance of personal politics always lead to the same question: how am I ever going to fall in that perfect pit of love with a man who feels the same, and when am I going to get laid, G-d damn it?! (Liquor loosens the lips.)

So I stumble, liquid, into the trite realization that love is private, unique, personal, and ultimately, a one-sided endeavor. What solace could there possibly be in this realization, you might wonder?  That my love is a warm, malleable mess that I have the power to put into anything I please! I can fall in love with my Fleetwood Mac record, my needlepoint portraiture, my Tuesday nights on the couch with my newfound Netflix account. Love will live wherever I leave it, and I’ve left mine to leaven in a loaf of sourdough.

Right now, it’s a simple concoction of complex carbohydrates sitting on my countertop. A little lukewarm water and a little bit of flour form a beautiful pair.  In up to my elbows, I formed it for myself, turned it in my hands until it was smooth, and left it to ferment.  My little, sludgy friend is taking on a life of its own. Natural bacteria in the flour are now mating and multiplying—there’s an orgiastic microcosm in this little bowl.

Now, why the hell am I in love with this? This stinky schlop is the starter for a loaf of sourdough. Once it starts to smell like the inside of a piss-filled beer bottle, it needs feeding. I’ll fill it with more flour and water—and rid it of its excess—in the same delicate routine every morning until I’m ready to act. One teensy tablespoon will make it into the final loaf.

Like a helpless little monster, this bowl of shit needs me to survive. But it’s not an exasperating dependency. He provides for me as well: companionship on a dreary Sunday morning (what else can make me laugh as heartily as sneaking a peak beneath his raggedy blue towel!), a sense of urgency to return home at the end of the workday (I hope he hasn’t toppled out of his bowl!), and when the time comes, a smell like a crackly harvest morning filling my kitchen while I recline in bed with a book.

I may sound like a crazy person—and I am, to be sure—but there’s still something to be learned from this. Romance and beauty should be fostered wherever they can be claimed. Sure, there’s nothing in a loaf of bread like the clasp of a lover’s hand (though the uplifting aroma may parallel that mystifying cologne which always goes straight to my head), but there is certainly romance. There is romance in any private act of creation and discovery. And it is profound, it is beautiful, and it is my own; and I am blissfully, unabashedly, foolishly in love with a loaf of bread.

No low-fat here... c. kira

At a meeting downtown, my colleagues and I took advantage of the new restaurants away from the office and ate lunch out. We ended up going to seemingly squeaky clean and shiny health-food joint. It turned out to be not very tasty at all. Everything we ate was simply bland.

As we diligently ate our already purchased lunches, I commented that some people think that healthy food is equivalent to low-fat food, which is not always the case.  Moreover, even if the food is “low-fat” it can still be poor quality, which takes away from the healthy nutrients of the food.  And not to mention, leaves the consumer completely unsatisfied.

I think, often, good food is confused between low-fat and extra-processed food with real, whole, and healthy food.  Selecting the option of “sugar-free,” for example is not necessarily better to eat than the sugar.  Do you ever read list of ingredients on the package?  The ingredients that are listed instead of sugar are chemically unknown to the average consumer (myself included).   Or the fat-free food like butter, that naturally has fat, which is not always a bad thing either—Just too much is bad!!

But why are we so scared of sugar anyway? Or foods like butter and cream for that matter?  We have this instinct to run far from the whole foods and grab the low-fat, low-sugar option, without even thinking it through. Perhaps real butter is actually better than  the “I can’t believe it’s not butter!” alternative, (Okay, if it is not butter, what the hell is it?) Furthermore, no matter what they say—the alternative option does not taste the same as the real deal.

To exemplify, a couple of friends and I made dinner one night. We did spring for the Whole Foods run before hand.  However, as much as I think the overpriced options are, well, over priced, it was worth it.  The foods we bought were whole (small w) without some characteristic removed and others added.   The result? —Deliciousness.   I couldn’t help think that it wasn’t just our amazing cooking skills (we are good, but not that incredible!) but rather, it was the due to the quality of the food.  We didn’t shy from the extra “calories” and the result was much more satisfying.

At the end of the day, the choice is still up to the individual consumer—how do you want to eat?  I think, in general, we would all like to be healthy and enjoy our meals.  So, it is important to keep in mind what that means for you personally.   And, you know, maybe one will prefer the flavors of low-fat over the full-fat options, and, hey, go for it!  I simply hope that we do not begin to sacrifice our enjoyment of food for going for the “healthy” choice, without understanding what that actually signifies.

c. orientaleast.com

Last week, I received an invite for Dim Sum Sunday Brunch.  I had no idea what Dim Sum meant at the time, but I accepted without hesitation regardless – How could I say no?  Waking up Sunday morning, I immediately regretted my decision to agree to meet at 10:30. What was I thinking?  But, as I dragged myself out of bed around 10:15, craving lo-mien, and thinking what I could perhaps get some at Dim Sum – Chinese, right?

When I finally arrived, I realized that apparently this was the Dim Sum place to be, as the crowd waiting to enter the restaurant filled the sidewalk outside the restaurant. It had opened at 10:30 and after getting our name on the list at 11:30, I think we sat down close to 1:00pm.  (Though, I think that this may be part of their trick — keep the customers waiting, so by the time they actually eat, they are so hungry everything tastes amazing!)

The way Dim Sum was described to me, as we waited for our table was “something like Chinese Tapas.”  It was similar to tapas – a large table sharing small plates.  I think that we ought to eat more meals in this fashion. It can be slightly overwhelming for me because I love to try it each new food that arrives in front of me. I appreciate the acceptance of sharing the food and tasting every flavor.

However, the challenge in this situation is that idea that I was never sure exactly what I was eating. In my Dim Sum experience, there was no menu of options, but the food is carted around the restaurant and the diners need to flag down the staff to get food. These women are efficient and don’t have time to explain what may or may not be in the said dumpling on the plate. I managed to get one-word answers as I pointed: “Pork” or “Shrimp” were the most common.

It was not the most balanced meal, to say the least. Most dishes involved something with rice dough, or fried. The dishes we almost all the same shade of brown or yellow, which went against the rule that a balanced meal should be colorful. There were few vegetables, though I managed to find pickled cucumber and carrots mixed in a slightly unappetizing cuttlefish dish. For the most part, the dishes involved meat, and I think even the tofu dish came with a pork topping.

The best part of going to Dim Sum is not the food, but the experience. We sat in a crowed place, pulling unrecognizable small dishes off of carts. The women cut each dish – dumpling or roll – with a pair of scissors, no, I am not kidding, and then launched into each dish with a pair of wooden chopsticks the minute it hit the table.

I am very glad I went, and I think it is an experience that was worthwhile, if for nothing else but the chicken feet. I really could not say “No” to it. How many times does a dish of chicken feet show up in front of you?  I’ll tell you, this is only the second or third time, and I think I passed the first two.  So, I sucked it up and ate a chicken foot. It didn’t taste bad, but the fact I was eating a chicken foot still bothered me – texturally it was strange.

c. choosemyplate.gov/

It is somewhat amusing to me that fats and sugars are not even included on the new MyPlate released late last month. As advertisements inundate us daily adamantly telling us otherwise; we are, of course, all adults, and we can figure out what we should without the government telling us, right? So much of our decision-making is influenced by what we are told though marketing schemes—from private sector corporations or public service announcement from the government.  And if we are not explicitly told, are we sure we know what to do?

The USDA has stepped it up with new a direction of food checking with MyPlate. This lovely image, featuring: (ta-da!) a plate, with the essential food groups clearly depicted, so we will all understand what we should eat and how much should be consumed.  This, of course, replaces our old friend, the food pyramid—and what ever did happen to that food pyramid anyway? It has been in limbo for a while, first, the USDA tried for to implement a personalized MyPyramid, which was supposed to be altered according to the individual person (and it included exercise as well, showing a little man running up it). Though I can honestly say I never quite understood that pyramid—it came out after I was out of school, and who learns this stuff anyway, besides school children? Plus, there were no pictures of food on it—how can it be a food pyramid if there is no food on it?

The most recent development, MyPlate is the new alternative, offering a not only logical, but also realistic idea of what one should eat.   No more counting servings a day (and did anyone actually know how much is actually in a serving?), now you can just look at your plate and figure it out based on the fraction the food covers (much like a pie-chart).   The idea behind it is that it will encourage people to eat healthfully, who don’t have time to think about food intake for the day, but they can think about it in the moment.   Parents can better feed their children a balanced meal when all they have to do is look down at the potions on the dinner plate.  And though the abstract image doesn’t have pictures, we can all figure it out easily as it is a plate—which is an improvement from the past pyramid that we had.

As Stephen Colbert kindly commented on the new developments of MyPlate, he exclaimed: “Americans don’t use plates anymore. Our food comes from cases, bags, cans, tubes, and envelopes made of themselves!”  And, yes, I am quoting Colbert here, he does have a point: How many of us actually sit down at the dinner table and eat a meal set out on a plate.   I consider myself to be a healthy eater and I maybe, if I am lucky, eat one meal a week on a plate arranged so that the servings are visible (Sandwiches don’t count here!).  Part of the idea of MyPlate, is encourage eating from a plate, which means sitting down, not day full of snacks on the go.  It means actually paying attention to what we consume.

The USDA launched MyPlate complete with an interactive website, so one can monitor the daily food intake meticulously using planners, trackers and even a foodpedia.  I decided to try it, fill out all the information and see what I came up with—I was honest, I even added a candy bar to my daily intake, for those days when I just can’t resist!   Beyond food, you can fill out your daily physical activity, and then compare the two. The site will track your history (if you diligently input information everyday) and give you an energy calculation, recommendations, nutrient intake…and the list goes on.

As I was sitting here, trying to think: what the hell did I eat today? How many blueberries were actually in the handful that I threw into my cereal in the morning? Do I have to count the extra cup of coffee I had at 3pm? I realized I could never do this every day, because I just don’t care that much.   I think I have my food groups covered, though like everyone, I could probably stand to cut back on the carbs, and instead of hot fudge on the fro-yo, add the fruit topping.  I think it was worth one day, sitting down and inputting a typical day in the life of food, and just see where you stand.  (Though, I am still not sure where the candy bar landed on health index)

My final question to the recent developments of the government food recommendations: what size plate are we talking here exactly?

What's your tradition? c. kira

How does culture shape a cuisine? Or does the cuisine shape the culture? I pondered these questions last week at a National Archives talk, Jewish Holiday Traditions and Cooking in America, between cookbook author, Joan Nathan and chef Spike Mendelson.  The event was a pre-kick off to a new exhibit the Archives will be hosting for the rest of 2011, What’s Cooking Uncle Sam?, to discuss the government influence on food in American society.

The relationship between culture and food is mutual, as both maintain a certain influence on the other. Just as culture  shapes a cuisine,  changes in a cuisine can also change and impact the culture.  Through experimentation of food, the regional differences, and the migration of cuisine that travels with the people, both food and culture are susceptible to change through either alterations or combinations.  Joan Nathan, talked about the Americanization of food, which as she sees is the change in quantity and quality.  Not only is the food bigger, but it also is often combined with other popular ingredients. (Extra large bacon-wrapped matzo balls, anyone?)  This, in her opinion, is offensive to the traditions of the culture and food.  Mendolson disagreed, saying that it can be inspiring to bring different traditions together through food, even if it means losing the authenticity of the meal.

As food takes on new levels of popularity, it is not just the foodies that appreciate a good meal and the significance behind it.  The mainstream media has picked up on the trend and brought it to a new level of appreciation in the public eye. This feeds into the social acceptance of food as a career, moving it from the blue collar job from the past to the white collar status of the present.  As Joan Nathan pointed out, a meal is not just a family dinner, but rather a high end restaurant dining experience.  With this status shift, more people are involved in the industry, bringing additional influences of culture and change.   The new generation in the food industry offers a new exploration to food; many are working to use creative means to finding their niche, put a twist on their own food whether the emphasis is on the cuisine fusion or even a return to purity and cultural tradition.

The arguable driving factor of food today, especially in American cuisine, however, is not tradition. Rather, the biggest influences come from the market and product. The market often drives society, and not only that but our food choices, as well.  This is largely due to the availability and access to different products and also to the marketing techniques that often ultimately drives our decisions. Today we have fast movement of products and more options to choose from, enabling us to utilize the global economy for both product and cultural custom exchanges.

With globalization today, it often feels as if culture is completely fluid. Food has become one of the constant and most acceptable forms in which to share culture and heritage with one another. In some instances, it is the preservation of a culture, where in others it has become a culture fusion.  Joan Nathan, recounted that while collecting her stories for her new cookbook she realized that she was preserving her culture through her the act of putting her observations on paper. Judaism is a food-centered religion and with the tradition of Friday Shabbat dinner, every family has their own story, their own customs, and recipes. Sharing all of that brings people together, helps us to remember, and creates a way to share with others.

c. Kira

My friend said to me yesterday, “I need to cleanse my body, I’m going off of coffee…” I turned to her with an incredulous expression and said, “Yeah, right.”  I followed with, “Coffee is good for you now, haven’t you heard? It prevents … prostate cancer or something.” She just laughed.

I love coffee. For me, the idea of “going off coffee” is a goal that I will probably never achieve  I cannot leave my house without a cup of coffee and I drink no less than three cups a day, which is cutting way back from the minimum of seven cups a day I used to drink.

Typically, coffee is something that is considered to have a negative impact on the human body. And yet, similar to many things, the negative opinion of coffee does not seem to have an effect on the sales nor the demand for coffee.  We continue to drink coffee, and even through the economic downturns, the coffee market did not fall. It simply shifted from latte’s to home-brew as the incomes dwindled.

Despite the anti-coffee vibe that we seem to carry, more often we are hearing the positive aspects of drinking coffee. Recently, a Harvey University study showed that coffee drinkers experience health benefits, including a lower risk of heart disease, diabetes and liver cancer, among other diseases. This is not the say the study did not find negative affects as well; too much coffee can cause higher calorie intake and birth defects if consumed by pregnant women. Though, surprisingly, concerns of heightened coffee intake seemed to be limited in this study.

The caffeine intake of so much coffee consumption is an aspect to take into consideration, though I believe that coffee (or tea, I suppose) is the best way to have caffeine, as it is more natural than an energy drink.  Though surprisingly, a cup of coffee has much more caffeine than expected; moreover, the cup sizes are so skewed in our minds. A cup of coffee from Starbucks seems innocent enough, but when ordering a grande, it is the same caffeine intake as 3 cups of coffee.  This is not to mention the espresso drinks as they pack multiple shots into one latte. (Though it is good to remember that a single cup of coffee has more caffeine than a shot of espresso. This is due to the brew time and the contact the water has with the coffee grounds)

When more than fifty percent of Americans drink more than three cups a day on average, the more than $40 billion a year coffee industry doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. However, this is one study. I am not suggesting we go crazy with heightened coffee consumption. In fact we should keep in mind the amount of coffee we are drinking, and not assume one cup is equal to the next. A study praising the habit rather than condoning it is much nicer to read, as I drink my second cup of the day, and perhaps there is some truth to is, so we can all enjoy our daily dosage without health concerns.

I have literally been drinking coffee every day since the age of 13, and I have no intention to change this habit any time soon.  For the most part, there is no reason for me to, it is not marketed as a killer as say cigarettes are, there is no a reason for me to stop — and now, looks like there is a reason to continue! You never know, maybe it was Starbucks that financed the study, but for now, I will take it!

Fruit-on-the-Go. c. Kira

Even if it a regular occurrence, meals at a restaurant bring a certain something to the table. Dining at single-location restaurants, opposed to a chain, seems to bring even more allure to the dining experience.  Perhaps this is due to the uniqueness, and we can feel that we are somewhat unique going to that one location; or perhaps we are drawn to the exclusivity of it; or to put it another way: if there is only one, it is not readily available to us, and therefore we will inherently think more highly of the finite resource.

I began to think about this as I read an article in Washington Post about the new pop-up restaurant that is coming to town. The idea of pop up shops is becoming more popular, as stores open for a limited time period, and one location turns from one boutique to the next.  So, why don’t we have more pop-up restaurants?

Pop-up restaurants are a great way to test a new idea in a neighborhood and gage reactions. But more than that, it add a certain something to the location when the customers know it is there for a limited time only. Pop-up restaurants have the same allure to us as the one-day only sale in some ways. We can justify going even when we do not really want to because it is there for only a short time. For that same reason, we can justify to ourselves spending more money than we normally would on a meal out. The transient quality is remarkably appealing.

Similarly, just like pop-up restaurants, the new craze of food trucks has the same draw for us. As the trucks troll around the city, word gets out in groups of friends, at the office, but even more – news travels at lightning speed online, and people come out in droves. I know there has been more than one occasion when a food truck has been parked outside my office building and I have gone out and bought lunch — not because I particularly really wanted to eat a lobster roll that day and not because I had forgotten my lunch at home; however, the idea that the truck would only be there that one day and I wasn’t sure when it would be back in the neighborhood.

Pop-up restaurants and food trucks, remind us how susceptible we are to the marketing ploys.  We can be easily convinced that a we really need to have a $15 lobster roll for lunch from the roving cart across the street, just as we can be convinced to go out and buy an expensive meal at the fancy limited time only joint around the corner.   Both are pretty ingenious ideas, which play to the human nature of wanting something that offers a unique experience, one feels a part of something special, and the transience shines light on the value we find in finite resources.

c. Marie Carianna, originally posted to Flickr as "Brocato's Reopens 2006"

[Knock Knock Knock]

Every time there is a knock at my door I can’t help but start hearing Men At Work’s Who Can It Be Now in my head and immediately bust out into that 80′s swish-gliding dance. Upon unlocking the double-bolt and opening the door, a neighbor I occasionally talk to blessed me with her presence. [“Go 'way, don't come 'round here no more.”].

She reminds me of a female version of Kramer, except shorter and more bitter with the world… okay she’s nothing like Kramer except for being that neighbor. After a few moments of pointless small talk she explained that she is baking her “famous” coffee cake. At least twice a year she knocks on the door asking to borrow ingredients she doesn’t have. I use borrow loosely because I give her the ingredients but she never returns them, nor does she offer a plate of what she had made.

Finally the question I’ve been waiting for. “Do you have some milk I can borrow?”

I nod and excuse myself to get a half gallon from the fridge. As I round the corner and walk to the door, she makes a disgusting snarl and huffs as if she’s going to bellow a scorching flame- “What is that?”

Without thinking, I grabbed a halfer of Silk. Actually that’s all I had. I apologize and offer it still.

“I forgot. You’re one of those vegan-vegetarians. [HUFF!]” [And the flame ignites the cool Spring air.]

I was absolutely taken back by her rudeness. Somewhere between me almost dropping the halfer on the floor in awe and my response, Neighbor 5B began criticizing my dietary choices and how “real” baked goods cannot be vegan because they are made with non-dairy substitutes.

I bit my tongue and refrained from responding with a quaint smirk of surprise. If I chose so, I could have grabbed my laptop, did me some quick googling, and chased her rump-roast back to 5B with many positive reviews of vegan baked goods.

I’m hesitant to use the can’t we all just get along or the if you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say it at all clichés, but I feel there is an implied courtesy that when you’re requesting help or assistance not to insult the person your asking. Call me a crazy drunken sex monkey, but am I wrong?

I recall — well actually I am reminded by photographs — being completely content sitting in diapers with my foot in my mouth drooling and smiling. [Them toes taste 'der good]. I would think many experienced similar innocent moments cramming our feet or hands into our kisser.

Whether by choice, custom, health restrictions, or allergies, our diets evolved and changed [plus there are only so many toes and fingers].

Thankfully I was introduced to a variety of dietary choices, beyond my toes, once I escaped the clutches of my narrow-minded parent-folk: fruitarian, vegan, vegetarian (and many of its subcategories), pescetarianism, raw life, macrobiotic, and a few others. They have all contributed to broadening my pallet of life.

Thankfully crazy Kramer lady didn’t ask me for a ride up the grocery store like she normally does because I would have told her I no longer allow dairy products in my vehicle.

[Omn nom nom TOES!]

c. Kira, TNG's food columnist

There is nothing more embarrassing than a trip to the farmer’s market. It’s like a pseudo-zen circus, comprised of all the worst stereotypes listed on stuffwhitepeoplelike.com, the brutally incisive website that reminds white people that everything they do is cliche. Tan, sinewy women sauntering around in ballet flats, 30-something couples in cutoffs and canvas Tom’s slip-ons, new parents pushing fancy strollers with tattooed arms, everyone perusing the row of stands with a collective mission to buy whole foods harvested at quaint, local farms — it’s the equivalent of sitting down to eat apple pie on a gingham picnic blanket with a giant pink bow in your hair. The gentle smiles shoppers share as they fork over twelve dollars for a grass-fed trout wrapped in recycled paper, which they then calmly tuck into their hemp shopping bags. It’s almost too much to stomach.

The other night, I was sitting at a table with Chloe and Megan, two of my best friends. We all had work to do and our laptops were out, glaring at us like confrontational, open-mouthed clams. The plan had been to get together to “write.” This translated to eating a giant block of cheddar cheese, drinking several gallons of coffee, and plotting which of our Facebook friends we could trick into having sex with us. Mostly, though, it just involved talking about how dorky the farmer’s market is.

We go to the farmer’s market every week. We are the stereotype we deride. We slink around Williamsburg in undersized shorts and oversized glasses with loosely-packed totes of earth-friendly groceries flapping against our thighs like overgrown testes. It’s on par with showing up to school naked with your pubic hair shaved into the shape of a dragon. It’s not cool. We go anyway.

Most people ease into an amiable mood in the presence of hormone-free chickens and brightly colored produce, freshly plucked from the unsuspecting ground. It’s a mood that’s conducive to cruising.  Chloe regularly tries to convince the market’s elfin, half-Japanese mushroom vendor to go to dinner with her, whereas Megan likes to hit on the aloof, corn-shaped straight girl who sells jugs of milk towards the entrance, always capitalizing on the acquaintance they have in common as an easy conversation-starter.

Recently, I’ve adopted an alternate routine, one that deviates from my traditional habit of staring at most of the short-haired, vagina-sporting market-goers like a salacious fiend. There was a time when I’d sidle up to roughly any queer with a pulse, armed with lame queries about how turnips compare to parsnips when pan-seared with sage. Now, I simply dedicate the bulk of my time to trying to impress the compost lady with how much compost I bring in each Saturday.

The compost lady is short and pink, with long, dust-colored hair. She bears a striking resemblance to the actor James Cromwell, best known for his moving performance as kindly farmer Arthur H. Hoggett, who shares the screen with a lovable pig in both Babe and Babe: Pig in the City.

When I learned about the composting program about a month ago, I was really excited about it because I don’t get out much. Online it said that if you keep your compost in the freezer, it’s not odorous. So I took the biggest roasting pan I could find, inserted it onto my freezer shelf, and over the course of a week, composted everything– banana peels, grapefruit rinds, the bushy green part on the top of carrots that no one cares about, egg shells, etc. You name it. Come Saturday morning, I lugged my giant bag of compost garbage to the farmer’s market with a shit-eating grin on my face, proud that I had taken the initiative to do something for the planet besides recycle the occasional water bottle or Diet Dr. Pepper can. When I arrived, the compost lady was checking her cell phone. She looked annoyed. “Hello!” I exclaimed. “I brought a huge bag of compost from home! Should I put it in this bin here?” I asked, pointing to a giant bin of rotting produce with a sign mounted above it that read, “Put Compost Here.”

She snapped her gum and continued texting. I’d never seen a woman in her 70s snap gum or send a text, and I was taken aback. Regardless, I braced myself for the warm, appreciative smile that I was sure I’d receive for my efforts, as she would affirm the fact that I should, in fact, dispose of my compost in the clearly marked bin. Instead she said, “Yeah,” without looking up from her Blackberry.

I was crestfallen. It reminded me of a bit in comedian Louie CK’s stand-up act that I’d seen at the Upright Citizen’s Brigade a few months prior.. He told a story about how one time he was browsing an aisle at the supermarket when a woman with sizable, eggplant-colored birthmarks all over her face had asked him if he could reach something on a high shelf for her. He casually handed her the item, and she half-heartedly thanked him. As she moseyed away, he was filled with rage. He thought he should be granted some award for not flinching at the sight of her affliction. It felt unjust that he wasn’t rewarded for his goodness.

I felt the same way about the compost and was determined to win over the weathered curmudgeon. Over the course of the next week, I went into compost-overdrive, salvaging every last thing I could get my grubby hands on– dime-sized shreds of onion skin, wet, grainy clumps of coffee grounds, droopy little tea bags, one caper that had fallen on the ground, and at LEAST six apple cores. I actually considered composting edible food, just to be able to present her with a showier bag, but ultimately refrained because I realized it was counter-intuitive, deeply weird, and actually not green at all. Regardless, I had a goal, and it was to elicit something along the lines of a hearty “Thank you!,” from her pinched, lipless mouth. I’d even settle for a simple nod, recognizing that we were on the same eco-friendly team. So the next week, arriving with a Chaz Bono-sized sack of compost in tow, I positioned myself in her direct line of vision. Then, with the garbage cradled in my left arm,  I gracefully gestured to it’s girth and length with my free hand, the way that ladies on QVC do with dolls, Bea Arthur jewelry, or whatever other kinds of undesirable shit they’re trying to sell.

This time, the compost lady wasn’t texting. Her eyes were on me as I theatrically dumped it all in the bin. “There you go!” I said, not even attempting to veil my desperate dig for a few appreciative words. She stared at me blankly, saying nothing, crocheted vest flapping against her waist-length bosom, paisley jeans doing nothing for her squat figure.

Besides the compost bin there was another receptacle, meant for the bag that you’d just emptied. Entrenched in defeat, I tossed the wet, empty bag in its intended bin, and turned to walk away.

“Wait!” she said.

I spun around, expectantly. “Yes?”

“You know you could take that bag home and rinse it out. No need to be wasteful.”

c. Kira

From my apartment in Washington D.C., I can walk less than 5 minutes in any direction and end up at a grocery store. On a daily basis, the question for me is: which grocery store would I like to go to today—the closest? The cheapest? The one with the best selection and variety? Or the one in which I can eat samples as I shop? (That’s the one I end up at, most often) I have this choice to make each time I run out of milk. And across the same city, there are people who don’t have a grocery store to go to, let alone a choice.

“Food Deserts” is a buzzword that essentially means an area where a large number of people lack access to a grocery store. The idea of having access to a grocery store is the idea that one has options for food, and beyond that, healthy options: fresh and whole foods — no, not the store, but actual whole foods such as produce, grains, etc.  Access to a Mickey-D’s or a gas station quick-mart, doesn’t cut it when it comes to eating healthy foods every day.

I was recently sent a link to a USDA site through an article on the DCist.com, where one can see the food desert areas mapped out in any region in the country. It shocked me to see the shot of the entire country and the large areas that are considered food deserts. Then to zoom in to see food deserts in the neighborhoods that I know so well.  Though it is a small percentage of the population, it covers a larger area than I expected. This also is attributed to the fact that food deserts often fall in areas with fewer people living.

The DCist writes about food deserts in the city mostly due to a rise in awareness over the latest controversy of potential Wal-Mart’s popping up in the areas lacking with access supermarkets. The superstore not only offers cheap options for just about everything, including food products, but it also offers jobs. Food deserts, have limited options for healthy food, and this limitation is damaging to the area’s residents. In some ways, offering a store like Wal-Mart is seen as a “silver bullet” option to help alleviate the results of a food desert.

Bringing in a store like Wal-Mart eliminates the choice for people, but at the same time in areas where the choices are limited, it offers at least an option. I personally grew up in an anti-Wal-Mart environment (small town, pro-local business, and yes, a bit elitist). In fact, I can probably count on one (okay, maybe two) hand the times I have actually entered a Wal-Mart in my life — let alone actually bought something there. Not only do I have an aversion to their poor working conditions and worker rights, but I also disagree with the outcome when Wal-Mart becomes the only options for shopping with competing businesses wiped out.

I don’t think that Wal-Mart is the only answer to solving a problem of a food desert, in fact far from it. Though it offers affordable food, without competition, I think that it can create different and damaging controversy in the future for the shoppers who rely solely on the Super store for everything. The controversy raises is the issue of food deserts and brings awareness to the situation. With this, further actions can be under taken to solve it — affordable farmers markets, options for SNAP food benefits use at grocery stores that otherwise would be too pricey, or an additional grocery store (not a mega-store) in the area to drive up competition and drive down prices.  Adding one store that whips out the need for all other stores is not the answer to eliminating a food desert.  This current controversy over Wal-Mart, however, should begin a discussion of why it is entering the arena, looking at the issue of food deserts and other options the city or neighborhood have to contemplate.

c. Kira

Julia Child always kind of bothered me. I know this is sinful to say. Though  I wanted to love the legend, it was the voice. I do fully appreciate the excited and honor she brought back to the kitchen. And we all know how hard a Julia Child meal can be, and as she makes it look so easy, we think that we can do it too. I thought so too.

On a recent trip back to my parents home, I decided I wanted duck, not only that, I wanted to try a Julia Child duck recipe from her book that my sister had bought as a Christmas gift. So, as a I decided that one recipe wouldn’t be enough, I made it a Julia Child day—my Mom and I made hollandaise sauce to go on our salmon eggs Benedict for Brunch, for the evening meal, we made Duck a l’Orange and even a chocolate mousse for desert.

I think the hollandaise sauce may have been the easiest. (Admittedly, we did kind of cheat by using the blender, but Julia said we could!) The duck was more of challenge — although I let my Dad take the lead on that one —and the chocolate mousse was the most challenging. We had to beat the mixture first on it’s own, then over simmering water, and then over cold water. Really, Julia? Besides the fact we had to get an extension cord out so the beaters would reach the stove-top, we made quite the disaster after getting simmering water (and cold water) all over ourselves, and that’s not to mention the eggs we were beating. I couldn’t help thinking, that my Mom’s chocolate mouse recipe was so much easier and actually better.  (It could also be because it does not call for a stick and half of butter.)

It was not that I didn’t enjoy spending the day cooking at home, because I certainly did, but I think it was the frustration of cooking something that was, in my mind, unnecessarily complicated, and in the end not worth the complications.   The duck was good, though I have had better duck.  The mouse was actually too rich for my taste, as was the hollandaise sauce from the morning.  Perhaps my palette is simply not accustomed to the French cuisine, though I recall enjoying it immensely when I have had it. Or perhaps I am not used to eating that much butter on a daily basis.  Or maybe, I just am not a great French chef yet.  (I have a feeling it is the latter.)

c, Kira

I will say, after attempting a Julia Child recipe; I do appreciate her even more now, despite the voice.  (Perhaps it was because I couldn’t hear her voice while reading the book?) It is a joy to read her book aloud while cooking, because if you are the slightest bit crazy as I am, you will begin conversations with her, i.e. “Julia, why are you telling me to add another stick of butter?”

Overall, I think the best thing about cooking with Julia Child, is that you are pushed out of your comfort zone with attempting to cook something extraordinary.  Now, in my little experience, this will probably fail and you will get something decent.   But the point is that Julia was pushed out of comfort zone, and she did fail at first, though she eventually achieved the extraordinary though the sharing of her success through chance, risk and even failure.  And that, annoying voice and all, is why Julia Child continues to gain admiration from generations.

Desert on Easter Sunday, c. Kira

I should probably start by letting you know that I was raised Protestant. Lent is a season of reflection, but for the most part this is done at Church every Sunday; therefore, it was never a part of my Easter tradition to give something up or do something extra for the season of Lent. As a child, I was particularly happy to not keep Lent; as all my friends gave up chocolate, swearing, or what have you, I casually cussed and indulged without a thought otherwise. However this year I decided that I wanted to give something up for the 40 days of Lent.

I didn’t shoot for the moon. I knew giving up “sex, drugs, and rock roll” were all off the table, so I decided to go for sweets. I had originally thought I would just give up chocolate, as it really is the only sweet I  love, but I decided to do it up and give up desserts. I gave myself one small tiny loophole: I didn’t give up sugar completely, so things like breakfast food did not qualify as sweets and were therefore fair game (not donuts and danishes, but breads or muffins were OK). Also cocktails, mixed drinks, and diet soda were considered strictly as beverages rather than sweets, in my mind. (Despite the fact I knew each Margarita I drank was probably loaded with more sugar than some cookies.)

I wanted to mix up the norm, give up the habit of the after dinner treats, and not give in to every craving or spur of the moment instinct to mindlessly eat a piece of candy while sitting at my desk. It was about putting the focus on one thing, even if to avoid it, so I would think about it. I wanted to practice that conscious eating that I always go on about.

Wolfing down a quick snack on-the-go is one thing when we are all in a hurry. (Although I do try not to do that.) But taking the candy from bowl, unnecessarily and then not even taking the time to enjoy it, is a habit that I want to break. Not the habit of eating junk — mind you, I think junk food can certainly have a time and place, i.e. comfort food — but rather the habit of senseless snacking on junk.

Now that I am on Day Two of post-Lent glee and my body is protesting the sudden intake of sugar. While heightened sugar consumption is a health issue, it is also a mental issue of treating food as something different then what it actually is: nourishment and energy. I didn’t give up sweets because I think there is anything bad about them, though moderation is still a good thing to practice, rather I think sweets are something to be appreciated, enjoyed and limited.

c. DC.gov

I heard a story on NPR one recent morning about foraging.  It jolted me out of my slumber once I heard the words “edible plants in Washington D.C.”   Apparently, this guy, Sam Thayer, is the modern day – urban, no less – hunter-and-gatherer. Though he hails from Portland, Oregon, he can even find a meal, quite literally, on the streets of D.C.  As I set out for my morning run, passing all of the (finally!) Spring foliage, I thought about it: “So, how many of these plants are actually edible?” More importantly, what if they all were edible?

As Spring approaches, I have wondered about the green we see around the city. Do we pass by a tree everyday that would actually make a great addition to my sandwich for lunch?  Or is it just a pretty tree?  But, then I began to wonder, if they are not edible, why couldn’t they be? The urban environment is not known for their food production, but rather their food imports. Urban gardens are beginning to pop up around the city, neighborhood gardens, school gardens, and even rooftop gardens are a more common occurrence. However, I began to think, what kind of opportunity do we find to discover some kind of “organically” grown food in this city? DC is a rather green city compared to others, so what if it was actually an edible city, too?

Apparently, I was somewhat correct in my musings. There is organically grown produce in the District. We are just not aware of it and perhaps it’s not exactly what we were all expecting. No, we do not have fruit trees on the corner of Penn Ave, and no, root vegetables do not grow on the National Mall. (Wouldn’t that be crazy though!)  But, according to this story on NPR, Mr. Thayer has managed to find leafy greens in our very own city. And though the station’s website provides a nice recipe idea for a wild-greens frittata, the idea of finding food growing on the city streets does seem a little strange to we yuppies.

But why not? What if cities were planned around producing our own food? Rather than a couple of trees here or there, plant a few trees that produce edible fruits and vegetables; rather than bushes lining the sidewalks, line hedges of edible plants. I am sure that there is some sort of law to prohibit this in D.C., obstruction of the peace, or the concern that homeless people would have the option of finding food growing on the streets rather than digging through trashcans. However, it’s something to consider. If the purpose of a tree is to create a nice atmosphere, isn’t a tree that provides atmosphere and nutrition even more valuable?

Supplemental tea? c. Kira

Recently, I am reminded of the importance of nutrients. It’s not enough to count calories people, but now we have to ensure we are getting the right nutrients as well. Yes, those vitamins and minerals dutifully listed on the back of each package. I worry because I think that like calorie counting, people can get carried away with counting and striving for the perfect percentage of nutrients without the calories.

Focusing on more numbers and equations when it comes to food, rather than focus on the food the natural energy and nutrients it offers, is some what bothersome to me.  Not it mention that it opens the market up, as essential nutrients are sold in supplemental form because everyone is convinced they must meet their 100% for the day.  Ensuring that the essential nutrients are consumed one way or the other, often in supplemental form, seems to lead the idea that those pills, teas, or otherwise can replace food.

I went through a nutrient supplement phase in college as food tends to be more available in large quantities of greasy snacks, so took make up for the lack of healthy food, supplements had to be taken. But once I left school property I was able to shop on my own, spend more time thinking about choosing food, and led to more time preparing food, and finally more time eating the food; rather than every night make the quick decision at the dinning hall for a side of tater tots for that pizza.  So I stopped worrying about if I had met the quota for the day, and I just bought more foods that I knew already had the needed nutrients. Vitamin supplement I think can be very helpful in some cases, but taken out of hand in others when one falls into that, more often than not, phase of self-diagnosing oneself with supplements.

So these days, when I read in the paper on the way to work that Mothers lack the essential nutrients, and see the ads telling us to “just take a multivitamin,”  I try to keep in mine that I food is often the best way to consume the essential nutrients. I think that often ensure that we meet our daily quota we need, it can be done on a more general scale rather than worry about meeting percentage for the day. These days how can you not get the right nutrients, it’s all over the packaging, not to mention enhanced in certain foods.

It is important to understand which foods have what nutrients and base your diet around that information; to know what foods carry the essential nutrients and to eat that balanced meal in order to consume a substantial amount.  I tend to believe that if one pays attention to what your body needs (not to be confused with what your mind thinks it wants), it will give them a better picture of what they should eat rather than a calculated formula.  There are foods that are okay to eat a few extra bites, and there are those that you maybe should keep at bay. However, I feel that a lot of knowing which foods to eat is intuitive and without getting bogged down with the details of more numbers. Eating a balanced meal in terms of those old food groups we learned about in school, but even a more basic rule of thumb is to eat different foods, different colors, and different origins.

c. Kira

I have continued to question the American reaction to meat.  As perhaps, avid reader, you may recall, I am not a vegetarian, nor am I averse to trying the slightly strange dish of animal parts on the table.  Even with all this said, I am still curious as to why, in the American culture, we generally find it appalling to associate meat with the living animal. It is a status symbol, to be sure, but we prefer that is hidden away.  We prefer to say, “I’ll take the Filet Mignon,” rather than “Just bring me a hunk-o-cow-meat.”

Recently, I received a text from a friend who was traveling in the Middle East this past week, asking me if I was “ready for a food idea?”  He messaged me a photo he had taken at a market of a hanging animal carcass. (Being on the small screen of my phone, I still am unsure which animal it actually was, but my first guess would be lamb.) It was not the first time I had seen this, in picture or in person. In fact while I was traveling abroad, it was a very common occurrence.

Out at dinner the other night, my friend and I were exploring the Pizza menu, a little perplexed at some of the ingredients; we questioned the waiter, “What is Lomo?” He answered a bit vaguely, “Uh, it’s a cut of pork … I’m not sure exactly where from on the animal.” With that description we both slightly cringed and immediately agreed on the three-cheese pizza option.

My first thought about our waiter was that he wasn’t very good. I mean if you want to sell something, then sell it! (I’m thinking something like: “Well, it’s similar to bacon,” is a good start!)  My second thought was why we were both so turned off by his description of the pork, he didn’t say anything inherently unpleasant about it, but rather simply attempted to describe it for exactly what it was – a part of an animal, and for some reason we found that rather unappetizing.

I got to thinking about the animal carcass text message on my phone, which also airs on the side of unappetizing. It does not bother me to think about or even see meat in, how shall we say this, it’s animal form; however, it does not strike that appetizing note for me either.

Perhaps because we are so accustomed to our food coming in packaging that screams, “Eat me, buy me,” that when it is not presented in that obvious manner, we immediately assume that it is not any good.  I am left to question whether the culprit is in fact the marketing of the product.  Marketing tactics have taught us that meat comes in clean, bright packing rather than a living animal.  Furthermore we have become so reliant on the market to direct us in the way we need to go, that when it is not an obvious direction, we are thrown off and left to question the legitimacy of the product itself.  But, we can’t give all the credit to the market; perhaps the market is simply feeding off the consumer preference.  So, which comes first, the chicken or the egg?

I tend to assume that everything can be recycled, so, I throw it all in there.  I place blame on my upbringing for this one.  First of all, where I grew up, we didn’t have trash pick-up, rather we had to take the truck full of trash to the dump every week. This wasn’t your run-of-the-mill trash dump, it was a transfer station, so it was much more environmentally friendly where nearly anything could be recycled.   In our pick-up truckload, we usually had one trashcan and the rest could be separated out and recycled.  Consequently, I grew up with the mentality that anything could be recycled.

Furthermore, when I moved away to go to university I learned that while the school had recycle bins on campus, everything was actually combined and then re-separated.  (Apparently, university students cannot be trusted to sort their own waste.) Sure enough, if you are treated like you’re an incompetent child, we all start to fall into that assumption. I stopped worrying about which bin my empty bottles fell, because hey, someone else would take care of it anyway.

That leads us to present day.  I find myself falling back into the old habit of either trying to recycle everything or dumping it all in one place, with the assumption that it is sorted again.  I am, of course, sadly mistaken, and my roommate is correct.

As I toss my milk caps into the recycling bin, I knew the next step for me was to fill in my knowledge gaps and actually learn about recycling laws in DC.  After all, I know that I can’t be the only one who can’t recite the rules of recycling on command.  After a quick Google search, I quickly learned that all commercial buildings (including residential apartments) are in fact required to recycle, and are subject to fines up to $1000 if they are note compliant.  On the District’s government website all facts are listed out in a nice PDF document, with all required recycled items are clearly listed: all paper products, aluminum, steel, tin, brown, green and clear glass.  But, get this, plastic food containers and bottles are recommended recycled product, but are still optional.  This last point seems odd to me, as I feel that plastic bottles are some of the more common recycled products after paper products.   It is also noted that all containers must be cleaned without waste: food, paint, or chemicals, etc before recycling. Yes, it specifically notes that pizza boxes are not recyclable due to the food residue.

Now that I have my facts straight, the next step here is to follow those guidelines. And, if I choose not to, well that’s where the fines come in—so perhaps the city will start enforcing those, and if people don’t start (looking at myself here!) following the rules, at least the city could make some cash off of our laziness and ignorance.

If you live in the DC area, check it out for yourself: http://dpw.dc.gov/DC/DPW/Services+on+Your+Block/Recycling.

Photo by Kira

Staple crops have nearly doubled in cost due to diminishing harvests, including grains such as wheat, corn, and soy.  Though the rice crop has managed to stay steady in both yield and cost, other “less essential” crops have also suffered, including vegetables, fruits, and coffee.  In the United States, we have experienced a 4 percent increase in food prices, which is the highest jump in price in 36 years, according to the Associated Press.

Much of this failure is due to irregular weather caused by climate change: flooding in Australia, droughts in Russia and China, and even abnormal cold temperatures in the United States, according to the Washington Post. Beyond the effects of climate change, we can look toward the change in the product end use of the common crops.  Many of these stable crops are used not only for human consumption, but also for livestock consumption with the demand for meat rises globally in both developed and developing country.  Corn, for example, is more commonly used for energy consumption as well, in the form of bio-fuel or ethanol.

The effect of the rise in food prices, and gas prices for that matter, is beginning to be seen as catastrophic on some levels.  In developing countries, the food shortage has pushed more than 44 million people to extreme poverty, living on less than $1.25 per day. Beyond that, many are linking the unrest in North Africa and the Middle East to the instability of food prices and uncertainty of food availability, according to the World Bank.

While the effects in the United States are not as extreme as seen on the other side of the globe, we can still feel the change from out home as well.  The interconnected global markets prove to make more of a difference today, as we run into shortages of crops in not only on our own land, but on our international trading partners land too.

Interestingly, Americans on average spend less than 15 percent of their expendable income on food, while globally the average settles around 40 percent or 50 percent of the household income, according to the Associated Press. So while we will likely see an increase in food prices in our grocery stores, we also have more breathing room than others around the globe to manage our funds and continue to have the ability and luxury to choose where we spend our money. Though perhaps with the increase in food costs paired with the rising gas prices, the global crisis will have more of an impact on our wallets than expected.

If you’re interested in reading more, check out some of these fantastic pieces:

“Gas, Food Prices Double Whammy For Rural Families.” 21 March 2011. The Associated Press. http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=13472683

Shneider, Howard. “Higher food prices may be here to stay.” 14 March 2011. The Washington Post. http://www.washingtonpost.com/business/economy/higher-food-prices-may-be-here-to-stay/2011/03/10/AByYO3V_story.html

Shneider, Howard. “Food prices push millions into poverty.” 15 March 2011. The Washington Post. http://www.washingtonpost.com/business/food-prices-push-millions-into-poverty/2011/02/15/ABwHkoQ_story.html

“Wholesalers paying more for food, suggesting higher prices to come at the grocery store.” 16 March 2011. The Associated Press. http://www.washingtonpost.com/business/wholesalers-paying-more-for-food-suggesting-higher-prices-to-come-at-the-grocery-store/2011/03/16/ABpLKcd_story.html

Parker, John. “The 9 billion-people question: A special report on feeding the world.” Feb 24th 2011. http://www.economist.com/node/18200618



Photo by kira

I have never been very good at calories.  I never cared to learn to be honest, as I thought it would be a lot better for my potential OCD tendencies not to know. What does 1,000 calories mean to the average consumer anyway?  Do we look at calories as a calculation of energy or as just a number?  Every morning I hear one of NPR’s sponsors advocating for calorie labels on the front of drink bottles, which got me thinking.

My first thought is: “It’s already on there and we all know where to look to find it, so why do we need it twice? Are we really that lazy? Or dumb?”  My second thought: “Wait a minute! What’s so bad about calories anyway?”

Our culture continues to obsess over calories and the counts are everywhere—packaging, restaurant menus, even fast food restaurants.  I am 100 percent on-board with the consumer’s right to know, but I can’t help but wonder: do we know what that number even means?

A calorie is a measure of energy, or: “a quantity of food capable of producing such an amount of energy,” according to Dictionary.com We learn this in Junior High science class, but for some reason that connection doesn’t always seem to stick with us when we look at the calorie count displayed on a large burrito.  The term “calories,” has become nearly a dirty word.  It doesn’t have to be the case, in other countries, Mexico for example; nutrition labels say energy (“Energia”), rather than a calorie count.  For me, (as an American) it sounds less offensive and frightening, not to mention offers a truer definition of what that number actually means.

When it comes to food, drinks, and calorie labels, we have exceptions. We fight to have calories on certain things, fast food joints, for instance.  However, there are other foods that we are quite happy not knowing that calorie count.  For example, did you know that there are no labels on alcohol bottles? Check it out – wine, hard alcohol, and a lot of beer (unless advertised as “only 90 calories”) do not have nutrition labels with a calorie count.  In fact, they are not required to carry nutrition facts, only a warning label of the immediate affects of alcohol, but not the long term health affects of consuming various amounts of unknown elements.  Recently, there has been more talk of changing this, but for the time being it seems that we would rather not know. Ignorance is bliss, as Plato’s cave (or the Matrix!) has taught us.  We only spend the time caring and fighting for the certain things: matters that will benefit us, such as knowing the calories count at restaurants, or that we can use a scapegoat for our problems – the fight against high calorie foods to fight the high obesity levels. But I find it funny that we tend to shy away from matters that could take away something we like, or shine a negative light on a common and enjoyable habit – putting a calorie count on a happy hour is something that no one seems to want.

That calorie number is important, certainly, though just as with any study, the results should be both quantitative and qualitative.   Simply going with one number is not going to offer the whole story behind the product, hence why the nutrition labels display not only the calorie count, but also the vitamin percentages, and ingredient list, among other thing.   My concern with the fight to put a spotlight on only the calorie count, we will lose focus on the important nutritional value of some foods.  Once we balk at a single number, we will be less likely to consider any other redeeming quality. Understanding the calorie count needs to be looked at as a whole.   The entire nutrition label is important.

Sources and Further Reading:

Locke, Michelle. “Alcohol industry struggles with nutrition labels.” Courier-Journal.  23 Feb 2011. http://www.courier-journal.com/article/20110224/FEATURES03/302240022/Alcohol-industry-struggles-nutrition-labels

“How to Understand and Use the Nutrition Facts Label.” U.S. Food and Drug Administration.

http://www.fda.gov/food/labelingnutrition/consumerinformation/ucm078889.htm

Burros, Marion. “Nutrition Labels Proposed for Alcohol.” 07 Aug 2007. http://www.nytimes.com/2007/08/01/dining/01label.html

I even consider that throwing out the scrapes from cooking to be wasting, such as coffee grounds and eggshells.  Even though we do not eat these items, I know that they can be used in a better purpose.  Composting was always a practice that I took for granted, growing up on a farm where compost was not only utilized, but necessary.   When I moved to the city, I felt the shame kicking in every time I threw out the onion peel.  If we recycle plastic and glass here, why does it seem so difficult to also recycle our food?

I live in the middle of Washington DC, in an apartment without a roof top, or a balcony, and therefore no place to put compost to use, let alone a place to store it while it is actually composting.  So, like most people in the city, I cut my losses and threw away the food bits.  I let it go by telling myself that there was nothing more I could do.  But, oh how wrong I was!

One day, I received an email from my wonderful roommate informing me that we were going to compost, right in our apartment—without the mess, without the smell, without even the garden.  It is all brought to us by Compost Cab, which started in 2010. It is an amazing initiative in Washington D.C. that allows we city dwellers to dispose of organic waste, guilt free.

Essentially, the only difference is that we have an extra bucket provided to you with a sealable lid to keep the smell down next to our recycle basket and trash bin.  Then once a week, we put the bin outside, it is picked up and taken to an urban farm for use.

When I tell people with joy that we started composting at my home, people usually give me a look that says “Oh, you crazy hippy.”  When I explain the system, some people seem genuinely interested, but others continue to roll their eyes and state something like, “I don’t want worms” or “I don’t have space for it.”

First of all, there are no worms in this stage of the system.  Second, put the bin next to the trashcan, put it in a corner, or put it outside!  The best thing about it is that anyone can do it.  Everyone creates a fair amount of organic waste while prepping a meal or snack, and while I completely understand the lack of personal garden space in the city, it doesn’t mean that someone else can utilize those organics for good.

Check Compost Cab out online and see for yourself at http://compostcab.com/

Finally there is an adult website dedicated to tofu-eating, plant loving vegetarians!  An interesting adult website in its own right, vegporn.com combines the political activism of vegetarians with sex positivity. Combining food, identity, and body politics, I list my top ten reasons why I love vegporn.com.

Warning: Site may be NSFW.

Fortunately or unfortunately I have been engulfed in the brunch craze along with the rest of the city.   From 11 am to 3 pm on weekends, restaurants fill with that post college/young professional crowd … oh what the hell, it’s a bunch of hipsters and yuppies.  I can’t really tell you if it goes on outside the DC bubble, as I live 100 percent in it for the moment.   I do know from my experience before moving to DC, we would get meals around that “brunch” time, but depending on what we ordered, we would either call it “breakfast” or “lunch.” The appeal seems to come from either the enjoyment of the indecisive meal, a reason to get out of bed and drag your hung over ass out the door into civilization, or if it is simply an excuse to start drinking earlier. I think it is somewhere in the middle.

I happen to love brunch and couldn’t be happier for this fad, if that is in fact what it is.  I love the combination of food, and as someone who hates to make a decision it’s a great middle of the road meal.  I love the excuse to get my day rolling with friends and not waiting until it’s dancing time.  And, why yes, I don’t mind the excuse to drink a Bloody Mary or Mimosa before noon…  I guess with that said, it makes me the perfect brunch candidate.

One of interesting things I find going out to brunch in this city is that it is not always the best food, but you are easily tricked with the pretty spread, the good deals, and the drink specials (not always the best drink either, but if they’re bottomless, I guess it’s worth it…) If you have read Anthony Bourdain’s book, Kitchen Confidential, he is quick to tell you that brunch is the bottom rack chefs using up left over food to please the masses.  Well, whatever, that may be true, but there is nothing like even a mediocre Egg Benedict and a Bloody Mary or two to beat that Sunday morning slump, or “hair of the dog” as they say.

The second thing about brunch, which I have come to embrace, is what it does for the rest of your day.  I either walk away too tipsy, just on the border so that I feel it would be appropriate to continue the drinking, or I’m just tired and want to nap for the remainder of the day.  While both of these option make  for an enjoyable day, I still have that nagging feeling that it has been taken over by brunch and wasted away.

This week, for example, I enjoyed Masa 14’s unlimited brunch.   While the company was good, the drinks were decently flowing, and the food was bombarding. Of all the tapas dishes our table ordered and sampled (and I think it was the majority of the menu), the Latin American—Asian fusion menu only offered few very delicious dishes (the grits, flatbreads, and chicken salad were a few of the highlights, for those locals who care to try it.) but the rest fell short.  As it was, we had paid the fixed price and had the option to keep up the tasting, so we proceeded to consume a day’s worth of calories, leaving me with no choice but to fall asleep on the couch almost immediately after arriving home. It was a good day, but I have little to say for it when I talk to Mom on Monday… oops!

So if you too, enjoy a day of excused morning drinking, mostly likely interesting conversations, and eating sub-par food, check out some of the brunch places around the city. As I can only speak for DC, I will recommend the Washington Post‘s list of brunch deals, which I’m making my way through.  And despite its shortfalls the experience is unique, if nothing else.

Happy Brunching!

Vegetarian readers beware the following post may turn your tummy.

I am not a vegetarian. I tried it once, right after I discovered the kitchen counter covered in raw meat from an animal my father had recently slaughtered. I took one look at the mounds of red flesh and went running back the safety and cleanliness of my bedroom. I didn’t eat meat for six months.  It was a trip to France that converted me back to carnivorous ways. Really, who can pass up pate and tartar in Paris?

I always find a vegetarian’s motives curious.  There are countless reasons: Environmental, economic, moral, cultural, health, society, habit, to even the simple reason of “I don’t really like meat.”  Strangely though, no one asks meat eaters why they choose not to be vegetarian.  There are arguments for both sides of the issue and the same arguments to eliminate meat from your diet can be used to support keeping animal products as a part of it.

The typical arguments in favor of vegetarianism often begin with the moral issue of eating animals. They then expand to the treatment of animals, especially when it comes to the industrial farming practices and mass production of animals. This leads to the environmental issue: contamination and pollution caused by this mass production and farm upkeep. Most animals are fed grain in today’s farming industry; this is not energy efficient, as it takes not only the energy to produce the grain but also for the care of the animal.  Beyond energy, it does not make economically sense as money is spent and lost along the way.

While these arguments hold true with much of the meat sold in supermarkets today, I choose not to group all meat in this industrial category.   Eating meat, in my mind, is not inherently bad.  Traditionally, I see it as a natural thing (cue for swelling music: Circle of Life).  The idea that an animal, let’s take a cow, would eat the plants that we as humans cannot eat, converts that to energy we can consume, it leads the economical, environmental, energy, and logical sense.  I certainly am aware it is difficult to eat meat of this quality, as it is extremely difficult to trace our food.  So I am left less meat, rather than no meat.

Many people ask me if I am a vegetarian.  Because I rarely eat meat and because I have the whole “food thing going on”, people assume it.  I enjoy meat, and I respect the arguments of vegetarianism, and I agree with most of the arguments. I simply see them a different way. Rather that attribute it to the umbrella of “meat eating is bad,” I prefer to see it as the “modern meat industry is bad.”

Photo by kira

I come from Small Town, New England,  and therefore it is in my blood to hate all sports teams from New York (First and foremost the Yankees), Massachusetts drivers (mass-holes), and of course Walmart (the face of the big box stores) for putting the local mom-and-pop shops out of business.  [According to my roommate, this is because I am a huge yuppie]

Reading the news this week, I couldn’t help but to feel some of that anger ebbing away.  Michelle Obama announced her endorsement of the Walmart corporation. This followed the company’s declaration to sell and promote healthy food not only in their own brand products, but in their suppliers as well.  Along with targeting schools, this endorsement is a part of the First Lady’s “Let’s Move” campaign to combat childhood obesity and diseases like early-on-set diabetes. Walmart introduced its initiative to offer more fruit and vegetable option and reduce the levels sodium and sugar in their processed foods. Some venders are calling for nutrition labels on the front of packaging.

This news brought me back to my first viewing of Food, Inc, specifically the scene that illustrated Walmart’s sale of Stonyfield Yogurt products.  I naturally love Stonyfield Yogurt, a company based out of my native New Hampshire. Like many I was a bit shocked to hear they were, as we say, selling out to corporate America.

However, if it is that good, why shouldn’t it be readily available to all?  Must it maintain the local sales to keep up with the local feel? Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, another once-small manufacturer hailing from Vermont, didn’t seem to think so either. Rather than lose their hometown appeal, they “sold out” to the benefit of their sales and popularity.   So the question remains:  What is so wrong about bringing good healthy food mainstream, even if it is through (gasp) Walmart?

On the negative side, Walmart has and continues to conduct their business with questionable morals. Whether we are talking about the small-business take-over, or the lack of equal opportunities, benefits and fair wages for their un-unionized  employees, there is something to be said about Walmart’s size and affordability. Walmart is everywhere. While yuppies like myself refuse to shop at such monstrosities, the rest of America doesn’t seem to mind.  And to make a fair point, they have good reason. Because of the size of the giant, it has the capability to offer products at a lower price, granting a greater access for all.   So if Walmart can offer healthier food to more people, especially those who struggle to find that mythical affordable food, it is hard to argue that this is a negative change.

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For more on this topic check out:

Neuman, William. “Food Makers Devise Own Label Plan.” The New York Times.

Smith, Aaron. “Wal-mart promises to sell healthy food.” CNN.

Wilgoren, Debbi and Ylan Q Mui. “With praise from Michelle Obama, Wal-mart announces healthy food campaign.” The Washington Post.

Religion and politics might be topics to steer clear of at the table. Photo by Farm Security Administration, Office of War Information Photograph Collection, Library of Congress

There are several things one should know are not acceptable for discussion at the dinner table. Since the generation of the “baby boomers,” such topics  have been identified as money, religion, and political views.

A valid argument for this may have been the amount of excessive time that can be spent eating dinner when talking about these topics. For younger generations, particularly the “eighties babies,” these once taboo subjects have become the regular discussion points for any meal or occasion. While these topics may still make people uncomfortable they have become more widely accepted in such discussions.

Why have discussions of money, religion and political views become more common and accepted at the dinner table? An argument can be made that the move away from the traditional dinner table, to meals in front of the television, dinner with friends, college life and the more widely accepted concept of the non-traditional family is to blame.

While at dinner this weekend my gay male friend discussed with a straight female member of our dinner party why baptism should not occur prior to the age of twelve. While interesting to discuss and initially thought provoking, this conversation transformed into a tedious minute argument on how the bible needed to be read; others at the table felt uncomfortable and sought moments to cease the conversation. As stimulating as such discussions can be, in my opinion the “baby boomers” had it correct in identifying such topics as verboten for meals.

Conversations surrounding money, religion and politics are important and should be had, but not in a setting such as a dinner or meal, which is traditionally intended to foster a sense of togetherness. These topics are known for being at the forefront of much separation, dispute, and anger throughout history, and although many people are capable of accepting others opinions on given things, the particular environment of the dinner table is not an appropriate one. Classrooms, auditoriums, popular hang-out spots and so forth are intended places for taboo conversation. As dinner is traditionally associated with being at home with the family, these topics have been designated to outside the home and in such locations as the classroom.

The reasons for why the “baby boomers” prefer not speak on such subjects when at dinner may lie in the ideals of appropriateness that have transformed over the years, while an “eighties baby” might argue such discussions necessary whenever because it is our prerogative as Americans.

Whatever one’s opinion on this seemingly unimportant topic is, one thing is for sure such discussions should continue to happen. The needs for these discussions to continue increase as history continues to take place, politics subdue the media, religion becomes less tantamount in one’s everyday life, and capitalism further socially stratifies groups of people. As a well educated member of society, I can honestly state, that while I love a good argument with family or friends over various topics, when I am having dinner, I would prefer to know how someone’s day has been, and not whether or not they support that bill on the floor in Congress; that twenty minutes a day is sacred to most people’s well being.