Here are two tasty bites from the foodie blogosphere. B’tai Avon.
Separation of Church and Toast? Not for Food for Life, a company that makes a line of products called Ezekiel 4:9 – organic, sprouted, whole grain, kosher certified bread and cereals. (All labels come with passages of text for no extra charge.) Last week, Jewcy interviewed the makers of these biblical foodstuffs, which New York Magazine deemed “righteously tasty.” Read the interview here.
The JTA reported today that after last month’s raid on Agriprocessors, production has “slowed to a crawl” and kosher meat is in short supply across the country. The frenzy of media coverage has slowed down some too, though the issue is still very much on the minds of Jewish individuals and organizations struggling to grasp what lasting impact a raid of this proportion might have on the Jewish community.
In the midst of a confusing time, I had the chance to speak with Zalman Rothschild – a former mashgiach (kosher supervisor) at Agriprocessors. Rothschild represented an insider’s voice – someone who worked in the plant, spent Shabbat meals at the Rubashkins’, and could offer a perspective on the raid that I had not yet read. I was excited – and also terrified by the opportunity. Would he be incredibly defensive or hostile? Would he embody the mythic “Agriprocessors monster” that has been uncovered (or created, depending on one’s perspective) by the media? And most importantly, could he impact my views – a progressive, vegetarian Jew who is wary of industrial food in general and the kosher industry in particular – on the situation in Postville?
The short answers are no, no and yes, respectively. For the complete version, check out the full interview below the jump.
Yesterday, Hazon organized a conference call with Rabbi Morris Allen for our staff, board, and volunteer leaders of our food programs. Rabbi Allen is the founder of Hekhsher Tzedek, and and just came back from visiting Postville, Iowa along with his daughter, fellow Rabbi, Harold Kravitz, and his daughter, and the chair of Allen’s synagogue’s social justice committee.
We asked him to brief us on the current situation with Agriprocessors, the mood in Postville, and the Jewish response – from an on-the-ground perspective.
This is what he saw and reported:
When was the last time you ate a banana? This morning, sliced on your cereal? As a quick snack on the way to shul to tide you over until kiddush? According to an article in Plenty Magazine, finding a banana to eat might soon become a lot more difficult:
“Back in 2003, the magazine New Scientist ran a cover story declaring that the banana was on the brink of extinction. The problem, the article explained, was that commercial bananas were genetically bankrupt: sterile, seedless clones with no genetic diversity and no resistance to a new wave of virulent fungal diseases…Scientists say, the outlook is still pretty bleak for the banana. Commercial growers remain wedded to a single variety known as the Cavendish, the bright yellow fruit found on US supermarket shelves; meanwhile, a lethal and fungicide-resistant infection called Panama Disease has decimated plantations across Southeast Asia and is widely expected to spread into plantations in Latin America and Africa.”
It’s true. As mentioned in a previous post, this summer corporate behemoth, Wal-Mart, is jumping on the “eat local” bandwagon. According to the state of Maine’s official website:
The Maine Potato Board, Wal-Mart Supercenters, Bushwick Potato Company, and Guerrette Farms have embarked on a campaign to bring the freshest tablestock potatoes to Maine consumers. Wal-Mart Supercenters across the state will feature ten-pound bags of potatoes with the “Get Real, Get Maine!” logo.
The irony of one of the largest, community-crushing corporations supporting local farmers is not lost on me. But over the last few years Walmart has made strides to clean up its act (or it’s bad image, which has at least some of the same impact as cleaning up its act) – donating money to charitable causes, and engaging in sustainability work. According to the Maine website, Wal-Mart’s Vice President of Produce, Ron McCormick could have been quoting a locavore activist when he said, “It’s important to Wal-Mart to support local growers…”
Maybe Wal-Mart has heard the siren call of the booming local foods movement, or maybe their head honchos’ hearts are in the right place. But do locavores really want Wal-Mart batting on their team?
What would you say if someone offered you a box of fresh, organic fruits and vegetables delivered to your home every week? Ella Heeks is willing to wager you might be interested.
Heeks is the Managing Director of Abel & Cole, an Organic Delivery Service in England. Through Abel & Cole, customers order a weekly bounty of pesticide-free produce and schedule its delivery to fit into their busy lives. It’s convenience and ethical eating, waiting patiently on the porch.
While you can find Organic Delivery Services in most American cities, Brits have taken a particular liking to their weekly veg box – and also to ODS pioneer Abel & Cole. 30-year old Heeks spoke with The Jew & The Carrot about working with an idealistic company, soaking up farmer wisdom, and Able & Cole’s response to some customer’s requests that they boycott Israeli-grown produce.
One of the biggest criticisms of the organic, locavore, sustainable food etc. lifestyle is that it costs too damn much to be realistic. In other words, I may know that an organic red pepper is better for me and the world, but at $8/lb (versus $2/lb for the conventional pepper), I can’t always justify spending the extra money.
The problem is, the epicure in me gets a little twitchy if I don’t have a fairly regular influx of artisanal cheese or fresh, organic greens in the house. And these days my weekly feeding schedule includes Shabbat dinner and lunch, which, by way of being festive meals, deserve better-than-average food. So how do I satisfy my need for good food without breaking the bank?
Family lore tells me that my grandma Martha was able to stretch one chicken into a nourishing meal for six people, with leftovers. I unfortunately did not inherit this gift, but I have picked up some tricks for eating well on a budget without resorting to dumpster diving (don’t worry Mom, I’m over that phase), or existing on the starving artist fare of rice and beans, or – gasp – bologna and Wonder Bread.
Many people complain that it’s difficult to find a synagogue to join in New York City. There are just so many options, that none of them feel exactly right – you might call it The Shul-Goers Dilemma. These days, however, I’m feeling pretty good at Temple Bet Pollan.
Michael Pollan gets his fair share of love on this blog, and his new book In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto
has already joined its predecessor, The Omnivore’s Dilemma
as a New York Times Best Seller. Pollan is in the middle of his second whirlwind book tour in two years (I guess he sleeps on the plane) – and I hear the same account every where he goes. Huge venue, sold out show, knockout performance.
Like any effective leader – Martin Luther King included – he’s charismatic and big on the big ideas that change the way we think – or in this case how we eat. But as I devoured (pun intented) Pollan’s new book on my subway commute, I wondered what, if anything, does his worldview offer to the Jewish community? And, perhaps more interestingly, what wisdom does the tribe have to offer back to him?
Local or organic? Farmer’s Market or Supermarket? And what about the GMOs? There’s a lot of talk — and a lot of confusion — these days, about our food. Around the world, people are starting to grapple with the negative impact that large scale, industrial Agribusiness has had over the past half century. As its legacy of soil erosion, polluted groundwater, and chemically-laden fruits and vegetables becomes clear, more and more people are choosing to support organic and local farmers. Emily Freed is one of those farmers. As the Assistant Field Production Manager of Jacobs Farm in Northern California, she’s responsible for over 250-acres of organic farmland. She’s also a Jewish activist who was recently named as one of the Heeb 100 in the category of Food. Despite it being her busy season (she was in the midst of moving about 6,000 lbs of herbs out of the farms each day when we caught up with her), she found the time to discuss the organic movement, the future of food, the connection between agriculture and the environment, and how it’s all related to Judaism.
As the saying goes: “when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” Well, in the case of one synagogue in Memphis, Tennesee, when life gave them BBQ, they made kosher BBQ.
Memphis is home to the annual World Champion Barbeque Cooking Contest, attracting over 100,000 attendees each year. But with categories like “Patio Porkers” and “Whole Hog,” and more than 30 tons of pork cooked throughout the celebration, the event is far from kosher friendly. Nearly two decades ago, the members of the Anshei Sphard – Beth El Emeth Congregation, asked the contest organizers if they might start a kosher barbeque section, and extend the festival one extra day, so Jewish BBQ aficionados could compete on Sunday instead of Saturday.
Undeterred when their request was rejected, they started their own BBQ contest in the shul parking lot, featuring kosher beef instead of pork. This Sunday, they’ll celebrate the 19th annual Asbee/Kroger Kosher BBQ & Festival.
I am sitting in the Nagycsarnok — the Great Market — in Budapest, thinking: I’m only here for 4 days, there’s no way I can possibly eat my way through this country! Only four days, and one of them Yom Kippur.
This food is the Hungarian countryside, only edible. Cucumbers. Celery. Leeks. Melons. Yellow beans. Carrots and parsnips and piles and piles of peppers — pale green ones and bright red ones that look like crumpled wads of newspaper. While the amount of global food in Budapest is a little sobering (Burger King, pizza places, gyros and felafel and Chinese fast food), there are still a lot of foods I’ve never seen before, and that makes me feel I’m in a new place.
Such as bags of cheese — turned out to be a sort of dry cottage cheese. And a biscuit-type thing with cheese and pumpkin seeds. And (baruch hashem!) all the “meggy” treats — sour cherry turnover, strudel with sour cherries and poppyseeds….
What does it mean, to eat my way through a country? And what does that mean for Yom Kippur, a day of not eating?
So. I’m in week one of kitchen tshuvah – my attempt to “return to my best self” through some serious reflection and reordering of my kitchen and all it symbolizes: family, overeating/under-eating, connection to the land, caring for others, care of myself, building community…
It’s all a bit daunting, especially since I haven’t spent more than 10 minutes in my kitchen for almost a week. But with the Rosh Hashanah and Shabbat lineup (prayer, food, sleep, food, prayer, more food, a little more sleep and leftovers to bring home) finally over, I actually feel free to spend time reassessing my culinary situation.
Glancing into my fridge this morning, I noticed a crisper of neglected (but remarkably still fresh) CSA vegetables and not much else….unless you count the nearly empty milk container and murky condiment jars. So, I dusted off my granny cart and headed for the Park Slope Food Coop.
I know – so I went shopping, big deal, right? But I felt giddy strolling down the aisles – bagging bulk pasta, grinding coffee grounds and stocking up on bread, beans, and cheese. My kitchen would have life again! It would have potential and I, for a change, would feel settled there instead of bewildered and hungry. I started dreaming up meals I could make for friends, reconnecting not only to my cutting boards, but to the people I love.
See below for more and a recipe for plum and nectarine cobbler…
Since early spring, the foodie and business worlds have been all a-twitter about Whole Food’s proposed takeover of natural foods competitor, Wild Oats. The story just got even more interesting when the note Whole Foods was passing in class got intercepted by the teacher (aka, The AP). The New York Times reports:
“The Federal Trade Commission documents revealed that Whole Foods planned to close 30 or more Wild Oats stores, a move that the company believes would nearly double revenue for some Whole Foods stores…
Many of the details in the documents, which F.T.C. lawyers filed electronically, were not meant to be released publicly, but words intended to be inaccessible were actually just electronically shaded black. The words could be searched, copied, pasted and read in versions downloaded from court computer servers. Court officials realized the mistake and replaced the filing with a version using scanned pages of the edited documents. The Associated Press downloaded the document from the public server before it was replaced by an edited version.”
According to the document, Whole Foods set rules barring food suppliers from direct sales with Wal-Mart. Additionally, documents labled “Project Goldmine” predicted that the buy-out will send 80-90 percent of Wild Oats shoppers to Whole Foods. Shoppers will then be at the mercy of Whole Foods who, without competition, can drive up prices even more than they already have.
Over the last few years I’ve noticed this strange phenomenon about going away on vacation – as soon as I get back, it feels like I never left. No matter how relaxing the trip was, or how far out of my normal context I travelled, my life seems all too ready to greet me at baggage claim and fill me in on all the things I missed while I was away. Sometimes, though – if I’m lucky, the storm of emails and to do lists subsides long enough for me to briefly recall a memory of my former self, happy and on vacation.
This most recent trip to San Francisco and Portland was especially lovely, filled with old friends, and new discoveries (especially the Shanghai Tunnels which, despite living in Oregon for two years, were a complete surprise).
One highlight, which came near the end of our trip, was a soggy hike up Lateral Falls just outside of Portland. Actually, the highlight was not the falls themselves (there were two and they were both gorgeous), but the native flora that lined and dotted our path. Everywhere I turned, I saw – food! Redwood trunks split open to reveal crumbly, red velvet cake insides. Intertwining vines formed a delicate lattice pie crust. Water-smoothed birch branches twisted into the shank of a Pesach lamb bone.
“You’re clearly in the right profession,” my friend Tyson said after about my tenth food reference on the trail.
