Saturday, April 07, 2007
A Blast from the Past (Five Years Ago???)
Today dear Bakerina reminded me of one of our earlier encounters, from back in our deep pre-history when all the cool kids hung out at Plastic, long before Scrine was even a glimmer in Keith’s eye.
Bakerina wrote this great write-up (click link for the full story and comments she generated>:
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Slow Food In A Fast World Redux
found on Atlantic Unbound
written by jenmac, edited by Humberto (Plastic) [ read unedited ]
posted Mon 2 Dec [2002] 10:28am
In Europe almost everyone has memories going back over generations of food with actual flavor, food that’s carefully raised. So Slow Food has appealed not just to rich people who like better things but to pretty much everybody who knows that there was once actually good food…
There’s a real problem with Slow Food in America, and it’s this: we don’t have that memory bred into us, so it’s still a movement of the elite. The goal is to get it to appeal much more to a grass-roots level, and that means making people taste it. Generally, once people taste eggs, cheese, barbecue, beer, bread, that has real flavor, they understand that this is something they’d like to have again, and that might be better than what they’re having every day. But you have to organize events that will reach a wide range of people and give them something for a really reasonable cost. Or else they’re not going to try it, and they’re not going to know it, and it’s going to seem like an elitist movement.
“The Atlantic’s Corby Kummer speaks with Atlantic Unbound’s Katie Bacon upon the publication of his new book, The Pleasures of Slow Food: Celebrating Authentic Traditions, Flavors and Recipes,” writes jenmac. “The book is an expansion of his exuberant 1999 essay “Doing Good by Eating Well”, celebrating the arrival to the U.S. of Slow Food, a movement that not only celebrates artisanally-produced foods, but also fights to keep such foods alive. Slow Food was founded in 1986 by Italian journalist Carlo Petrini, who was aghast at the announcement that McDonald’s was opening a restaurant in the middle of the Piazza di Spagna in Rome.”
“While Slow Food is a champion of traditional production methods and regional foodways, it does not embrace a “rare=expensive=good” ethic; in fact, it recognizes that high labor costs and lack of easy distribution contribute to the disappearance of these foods, and that the best way to keep them alive is both to create a market for them, and to help them thrive under modern constraints that otherwise may have threatened their survival. According to Kummer, ‘[Slow Food] might help cheesemakers in Italy navigate the bureaucracy of the European Union. The European Union has mandated that you can’t use wood tools in food production, but wood has bacteria that cheesemakers need for their cheeses. They can get variances, but obtaining them means filling out a lot of paperwork. So local Slow Food members will find someone with law expertise to help them out.’ However, even as Kummer celebrates the efforts of Slow Food worldwide, he acknowledges that the size and food distribution channels of the U.S. tend to stack the deck against small-scale producers and farmers, and can make artisanally-produced foods difficult to find outside of cities on the East or West Coast. Is Slow Food a pipe dream in an industrialized world? Or is it our best hope for finding high-quality, tradition-based foods without driving 100 miles or spending a day’s paycheck?”
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To which a much younger ‘mouse responded:
I Call it Bullshit
by Anonymouse Savant [ message privately ]
at Mon 2 Dec 3:37pm score of 2 compelling
While it’s great that someone came up with the “slow food” moniker to counter the “fast food” culture, I’m afraid it’s 99% bullshit and marketing hype in order to sell books and attract attention to the new “slow food” gurus.
Don’t get me wrong, I am among the most ardent lovers of good food you’ll find on Plastic. If I had to choose between giving up my taste buds or my testicles, I’d be singing soprano.
My gripe is that I suspect that a very limited number of people “come to slow food” who weren’t foodies already or heavily leaning that direction.
Also, I don’t believe it’s a sign of a successful movement that 50 people ordered $75 turkey eggs and got a farmer to raise them. Hell, this morning I saw an advertisement in the newspaper selling “Real Legal Tender” silver dollars (the kind you can get from a bank or the mint for $1) for “Just $5.95 plus postage and handling.” There’s a sucker born every minute.
Not to be too cynical, but when it’s all said and done, food is all about quality versus price and convenience. Where you come out on the spectrum is about your own time and economic situation which changes over time.
I grew up on a farm and I do know the difference between a home-grown pig versus the cut I get at the local fancy food co-op and the one I get at the mega-supermarket. Same goes for milk and eggs and every other ingredient. While it would be real nice if I could be an ingredient snob like the slow foodies, it’s obvious that I and everyone else are NOT willing to pay $5 or $10 gallon for better milk from Jersey cows delivered fresh every morning to our homes. If we were, there would be a vital dairy delivery business which wouldn’t be pumping out shitty, hormone-full Hereford milk.
I think I’m going to start a new movement called “Practical Food” which strikes a reasonable balance and which eschews coffee table books for discussions with friends over a good meal.
The main tenets of my movement will be that good fast food is available if you look for it—I can recommend a vietnamese noodle place in Milpitas, CA that has a steaming bowl of pho on your table which is to die for in less time than you can get through the drive thru at the McDonalds down the street. Yoshinoya, which actually has a drive through, is a new chain selling quite edible Japanese-inspired fast food. There’s a taqueria in Willow Glen, CA (next to the laundromat) that will convince you that you died and went to Mexico—in six minutes or less.
Also, my practical food movement will point out that a reasonably competent chef with a well stocked kitchen can make a good “slow” meal in about the same time as it takes you to drive to and from the fast food place. I can whip up the world’s best biscuits in 5 minutes (including clean-up) and 8 minutes in the oven. They go well with my orgasm-inducing clam chowder that takes an hour to make on Sunday but which provides two days of lunches and one more dinner over the course of the next week—and improves each day it ages and the flavors mix. (That’s only net 15 minutes prep time averaged over the 4 meals).
Finally, if you think food was better in the “good old days,” you’re nuts. My grandmother was fond of pointing out that she never saw much beyond cauliflower and broccoli in the stores in the 40’s and 50’s. Now she practically has to fight her way past the bok choy and seven types of lettuce to get to the brussels sprouts, and the taro root at her local Safeway. Don’t even get her started about the joys of good oyster sauce in a Chinese stir fry or she’ll go on all night.
Anyway, my point is, good food is not “dead.” It’s being prepared in kitchens all over the country/world as we speak. If it’s not being prepared in yours, skip the coffee table book—get out the Joy of Cooking and start at the beginning. Get the basics down. Then become a snob in your spare time.
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The rest, as they say, is history.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Interview with a ‘mouse
In this meme passed along by the beautiful and talented Bunni, Bunni asks me five questions and I do my best to answer. Honestly. Should you wish to play, you leave me a comment and I have to get to ask you five questions (by email, so don’t forget to make sure I have your addy), which you must answer en-blog.
Without further ado, Bunni asks:
1. Why mangoes?
The mango fetish is, of course, described here. However, the meaning of the mango runs much deeper. I lost my virginity to that mango. (No, not that way, silly readers, get your mind out of the gutter.)
The mango represents the exact turning point in my life and the line between childhood and adulthood. 45 days in the summer of 1987 when I discovered, at the age of 20, that despite almost entirely supporting myself and living on my own since I was 16, I had been a timid and fear-filled child and it was holding me back. That mango was my apple from the tree of knowledge. It poisoned me, or perhaps inoculated me, with the knowledge that outgoingness, adventure and bravery offered greater rewards than security and risk-avoidance offered. And mangoes remain tasty and sexy as hell.
2. What is the most ridiculous event/comment you’ve observed/overheard in a professional setting?
I’ll get to that story, but first I must answer a different question: What’s the most interesting tidbit of cellphone conversation you’ve ever overhead?
Just last weekend, on a crowded street, “I’ll do anything, absolutely anything you ask, on the condition that you get your tubes tied.”
It took every fiber of my willpower to keep from turning around, stomping this jerk’s cellphone on the ground, screaming, “That will NEVER be an appropriate cellphone conversation and by the way, if it’s important, get a fucking vasectomy you giant dick!”
In my professional life:
“Oh shit!” stated rather astutely by the lawyer in line in front of me as the deputy at the courthouse metal detector held up the little brown vial with the spoon hanging off of it that he’d just plucked from her purse.
3.Would you ever consider moving to NY?
If by “move” you mean live there long term, then no. I could happily spend a few years passing through for someone I cared about who needed to be there, but my heart is not a big city heart.
4. What is your philosophical stance on your choice of undergarments?
For me, depends on the outergarments—traditional briefs inside jeans to keep the stuff where it’s supposed to be. The rest of the time boxers, since it feels kind of free and naughty.
For her? I have a strong aversion to granny panties. Everything else is fine as long as it’s soon-to-be-shed whenever I’m observing it. However, when it comes to bras I am a very strong believer in the plain old rear-hooking kind. Ever since I learned to undo those one-handed without ever breaking off kissing, that moment in the process has been an especially joyful one. Breaking off the kiss and using both hands to undo a front hook or peel off a sports bra, not so much fun.
5. I know the story of how you talked your wife into going on a first date, but what is your most entertaining break up story?
To my great embarrasment, I haven’t got much in the way of memorably odd or ugly breakup stories. Natural attrition and moving/life changes drove just about every one of my very civil and mild breakups.
That said, and this story is always reserved for guys over a beer, so I’m not sure why I’m telling it here, there is one story where I star as the bad guy. As I was leaving for college I had to say goodbye to the woman I had been dating for about six months. At the urging of her best friend, I “said goodbye” and we ended things a couple days before I left town, allegedly so I’d have time to finish some projects, pack, and not deal with all the pain of “goodbye” at the very last minute. The real reason was so that her best friend and I could have a quickie two-day fling without violating the “you don’t sleep with your best friend’s guy / don’t sleep with your girlfriend’s best friend” rule.
Come to think of it, that was probably the first definitive indication that a career in law lay in my future.
Friday, February 23, 2007
No Quite Ready for Scrine Time
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Thursday, February 22, 2007
Birdbrained
The seagull’s life is the life for me.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Anti-Sabbatical
Today, the first day of the Year of the Boar, my anti-sabbatical begins. What with moving to a new house, launching over-enthusiastic remodeling projects, and trying to take a more pro-active approach to the work day, I can pretty much assure y’all that updates here will be spotty.
That said, I’ll write and photograph when I can.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
I like orchids
I especially like this one, since the Realtor brought it along with my key.