As the logistics (and debate) of schecting a goat at Hazon’s Food Conference next month continue, Alexander Lane over at Chow, describes how he decided to “kill Thanksgiving dinner.” Lane writes:

“Here I am in Maine, having relocated in April after spending my first 34 years around major cities like New York and San Francisco. Strange things happen here, such as wild turkeys wandering out of the woods behind your apartment complex. Even stranger, you develop the desire to shoot and eat them...”

Lane then goes on to describe his choice to forego the shrink-wrapped, store-bought turkey, to have a go at killing and preparing a real live animal.

Last week, my coworker Judith came into the office, excited about a seasonal food discovery she’d made.  “I was trying to figure out what to do with all the potatoes I got in my CSA,” she said.  “And I realized - December’s not that far away and potatoes store well…no wonder latkes are a traditional Chanukah food!”

Judith’s epiphany links her back to the kitchens of our collective Ashkenazi Jewish ancestors, who made food from inexpensive, readily-available ingredients.  What better way to have a delicious, filling meal, than to fry up a bunch of winter root veggies like potatoes?

And, I thought with a swell of “it all makes sense!” elation, what better to top them with than a sauce made of the only fruit that stores as well as potatoes in the winter - apples! Remembering the Hebrew connection put me in even more in a tizzy.  (One of the first things that every Hebrew school student learns is that tapuach means apple and tapuach adamah means “apple of the earth” - potato.)

It was high time, I thought, to make some applesauce.  (Recipe below the jump…)

It’s a familiar legend – whether it’s the Golem or Dr. Frankenstein’s monster (the latter perhaps inspired by tales of the former) – what we arrogantly create comes back to haunt us. America’s monster might turn out to be one that we encounter in its most powerful form each Halloween: corn. Not the sweet, buttery kind that we get from our CSA in July. The kind that industrial-strength petro-chemicals and lobbyist-induced grain subsidies have produced in quantities unfathomable even fifty years ago. As Michael Pollan noted in Omnivore’s dilemma, which so eloquently sounded the clarion call for the dangers of corn, much of this crop has been turned into food additives that are so commonplace that if we’re eating any type of processed food, chances are we’re eating corn, even if we don’t even know it!

When my kids were younger we went through the annual battle that always concluded with someone (usually me) in tears. Halloween is a Jewish child’s enemy. Every year I tried to circumnavigate the whole situation by buying candy and renting scary movies. This was sort of a good solution though the idea of running wild through neighborhoods with friends dressed as batman, an army guy, or whatever the costume du jour was that year was all most too much. My youngest son (Jonah is 13) recently confessed to having “done it” last year. The conversation went something like this. “You know Halloween is not that big a deal Mom”, “I know, I have been telling you that for years. Ummmm, how do you know?” 

Organic. Pancakes. In a can.

End of civilization? Or dawn of a new era of enlightened convenience foods?

Discuss.

(Cross-posted on Pickled)

I stumbled upon an article today that concerned itself with what it called “Shechitah vs. PETA”–in other words, the conflict that exists between animal-rights advocates and proponents of kosher slaughter. It reminded me of why I’m both proud of and dissatisfied with the laws of kashrut that apply to animals. On one hand, I’m inspired by the intended consciousness and compassion that went into our dietary laws–rules that seek to minimize the pain and suffering of animals raised and killed for food. On the other hand, though, I’m all too aware of the fact that these laws fall short, and are in dire need of reassessment. Back in February, Sarah Rose pointed our attention to a Reuters article on hechshered fur. Israel’s Chief Rabbi, Yona Metzger, ruled that Jews must not wear fur skinned from live animals. “All Jews are obliged to prevent the horrible phenomenon of cruelty to animals and be a ‘light onto nations’ by refusing to use products that originate from acts which cause such suffering,” was the official decree. This is the kind of thing that makes me proud, and it’s what I’d like to see more of in regards to the collective Jewish attitude toward animals raised for meat.

Thanks to Tuv Ha’Aretz Houston member, Nancy Pryzant Picus, for this truly inspiring article!

My husband and I grew up in non-kosher homes, so when we each began to explore kashrut in college, we were swimming in uncharted waters. Our individual journeys towards kashrut began with separating meat and dairy products only at home. When we married, we both had complete sets of dairy and meat dishes, and had long brought only kosher meat into our homes. Before our children were old enough question us, we re-examined our practices, which resulted in the decision to stop eating meat in non-kosher restaurants; soon we began to buy only certified, hechshered foods.

When people ask why I keep kosher, I can give several reasons. One obvious one is that kashrut makes eating a Jewish action. When I choose kosher food, I am making a Jewish choice. However, a more compelling reason for kashrut is implicit in the blessing that accompanies the food I am eating. God has blessed me with the food I am preparing to eat, and with the ability to savor its flavors and appreciate the earth’s bounty—and the labor involved in drawing it forth (hamotzi lechem min ha’aretz).

I often listen to talk radio when I cook. And today, while I was prepping for a Shabbat dinner I’m cooking tomorrow at the Foster City JCC where I’m facilitating a discussion on organic food, I heard an interview with Howard Lyman, otherwise known as the Mad Cowboy. If you haven’t heard of Lyman yet, you will.

A fourth-generation cattle rancher from Montana, Lyman converted his family’s small organic family farm into a massive feedlot with 5,000 cattle at one time. He was no different than all the other cattle ranchers, until he was diagnosed with a tumor on his spinal chord, paralyzing him from the waist down. Lyman had surgery, and was granted his mobility. But he also decided that that tumor was a wake-up call. He sold the farm, and decided to become a bit of a crusader, speaking out about the evils of the feedlots, and urging people to go vegan.

Imagine, a Montana cattleman promoting veganism. It is pretty funny when you think about it.

Thanks Google Images for randomly bringing The Jew & The Carrot to this comic and to a very funny, thrice-weekly updated website called Soupmines.  Kosher! Carrots! Comics! It’s a match made in heaven. :)

Further proof (from the NY Times no less) that kale is the best food ever.  Melissa Clark writes in “If it Sounds Bad, it’s Got to be Good:

“Nonetheless, I ordered the [raw kale] salad. It arrived as a shadowy green mountain under a blizzard of grated pecorino Rossellino cheese (a nutty Italian sheep’s milk cheese with a ruddy rind) and bread crumbs, flavored with lemon and chili. Tangy, spicy, slick with good oil and crunchy from the earthy-flavored kale, it was as pungent and rich as it was fresh and clean tasting; a veritable raw foods epiphany. The minute I left the restaurant I craved another.”

This past Shabbat, my boyfriend and I walked from Park Slope to Red Hook, Brooklyn (an hour each way – no, not uphill) to the Red Hook Harvest Festival.  He’d heard me yammer on for a while about the ”real life FARM” in the middle of Brooklyn, but as we passed the many corner stores and high rises that typify the borough, I think he started to doubt that such a place could really exist.  Until we arrived.

In the middle of a once dilapidated asphalt playground, 2.75 acres of earth and plants now thrive.  Brooklyn has a rich farming history – as late as the 19th century, Brooklyn was the second most productive agricultural county in the United States, second only to Queens.  But today, growing anything more than what fits in a window box or on a stoop seems nothing short of a miracle.    

The Red Hook farm was started by Ian Marvey, founder of an organization called Added Value, which empowers neighborhood kids and teens to learn farming and business skills (through farmer’s markets and sales to local restaurants), while strengthening the local community.  According to Added-Value’s website:  

“Twice in the past three years Red Hook’s only full-service grocery store closed, forcing residents to walk three miles and cross an eight lane road or take a $10 cab if they want to shop there. Red Hook was a textbook example of a broken food system and its effects on a community.  Now, we are becoming a model of how residents, businesses, social service agencies and religious institutions can begin to rebuild a food system that promotes social interaction and economic activity while nurturing our health and improving the environment.” 

Folks in the neighborhood know the farm.  Lost in an unfamiliar part of town, I asked a passing teenager if he knew where the corner of Columbia and Sigourney street was (unlike most rural farms, this one has an intersection).  He didn’t know.

“Um, do you know where the, uh, farm is?” I asked sheepishly.

“Oh yeah – the farm’s that way” he said, pointing us on. 

The New York Times offers Five Easy Ways to Go Organic  The short list: milk, potatoes, peanut butter, ketchup, and apples.  For the deeper scoop, click here.

The JTA reports on the ongoing and building controversy between religious Zionists and haredim over WHAT TO EAT during the Shmita year.  Check up on the controversy here.

The organization Children in Balance launced an RFP for communities working to bring healthy eating and active environments to kids and their families.  More info about the RFP here.

Today is the kick off of the Globesity Festival in NYC – a week long series of performances that confront the “beastly grind” of over-consumption.  Each of the participating artists engaged in a juice-fast before the festival, during which they “conceived a theatrical performance in response to consumerism,” that will be showcased at the festival.

Journalists, writers, and documentary film makers serve an obvious purpose in the food movement - researching our society’s eating patterns and reflecting them back in an accessible (ahem, digestible) format.  But what about the performance artist, the dancer, the sculpter?  Find out by checking out the performances at Globesity Fest, here.

Before I left for Israel my doctor told me I had a major gluten sensitivity. This is not the news anybody wants to hear before they go off to a country whose 7/11’s carry rolls and pastries on par with some of the best shops in New York. This is also not the news you want to hear if you want to indulge in the unhealthy treats that Israel has to offer: i.e. Shawarma in a lafa, rugelach from Machane Yehuda, malawach, jachnun, schnitzel, and much more. The list of glutenous foods goes on, and tragically, the corner falafel joints I once frequented (and ocasionally still do) don’t offer rice and corn flour alternatives to wheat-flour pita.

For the most part, this new food restriction has actually forced me to eat healthier. Meals in my apartment are rice and quinoa based, and they are made without that delightful greasiness that most falafel joints offer. Snacking has been especially tough, though. I bought packaged roasted almonds and found that they were preserved with gluten. I went to a Mexican restaurant and ordered nachos, naturally expecting gluten-free corn tortillas. Instead, since Israel is not known for its Mexican food, there were wheat pita chips that were deep-fried for a Mexican-like effect. Even most chocolate bars have wafers inside them which are filled with gluten.

Last night I was hungry and craving something both sweet and salty.