Thursday, February 17, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Dr. Weil & Environmental Working Group Shopper's Guide
Here is a short video by Dr. Andrew Weil giving information about when and why you should buy organic fruits and vegetables. The lists, commonly known as the Clean 15 and the Dirty Dozen are included below.
Foods You Should Always Buy Organic (Dirty Dozen)
- Celery
- Peaches
- Strawberries
- Apples
- Blueberries (Domestic)
- Nectarines
- Sweet Bell Peppers
- Spinach
- Collard Greens/Kale
- Cherries
- Potatoes
- Grapes (Imported)
Foods You Don't Have to Buy Organic (Clean 15)
- Onions
- Avocados
- Sweet Corn
- Pineapples
- Mangoes
- Sweet Peas
- Asparagus
- Kiwi
- Cabbage
- Eggplant
- Cantaloupe (Domestic)
- Watermelon
- Grapefruit
- Sweet Potatoes
- Honeydew Melon
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Bees in the Garden
Gardening is not only about cultivating plants. Bees, those fabulous pollinators, have found a welcome center in our garden. This winter my largest broccoli head was left to flower because the bees were so enamored with it, and here Harvey has captured pictures of bees enjoying some of our camellia blossoms.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
...But Can You Change a Tire?
I seldom invite guests for dinner without making at least one dish that I've never cooked before. This goes against all conventional wisdom which says that you should prepare favorite recipes for your guests--implying that you've eaten the dish at least once before company knocks at the door.
My way of looking at dinner parties is a bit skewed: I tend toward the Thelma and Louise approach of taking a great leap and letting the landing take care of itself. Since I'm not the type to drive cars off cliffs or parachute out of airplanes, I suppose this small quirk gives me a shot of adrenaline seldom found in those tried and true recipes. Over the years, I've used this approach with mostly successful results, primarily because I read recipes like I read novels. I taste every ingredient as my eyes run down the list. The rising action begins with the first step, and becomes more intense as I make my way toward the final "Bake at ..." or "Serve with ..." instruction. By the time everyone is seated at the table and ready to take their first bites, I am holding my breath, waiting to see if the story is going to have a happy ending. Usually it does, or something fairly close to one, but if it doesn't, I'm the first to say, "Have more cheese, bread, and wine. A toast to happy endings!"
This weekend I had the pleasure of preparing a meal for two very dear friends, and since they were so close to me, I knew I could really do some experimentation on them. I thought about what might be simple and satisfying and delicious, and came up with pasta, sauteed chard and spinach, and French bread. My friends were bringing dessert, and there really wasn't a need for salad. Simple, satisfying, and delicious. The menu fit the bill.
Now, when I say simple, I am not necessarily talking about difficulty of preparation. Synonyms for simple in my dictionary would be comforting; with an aura of ease. Those synonyms, however, have nothing to do with the time and effort I am willing to devote to a dish that will be served to dear friends. And for this dinner party, I decided on pumpkin ravioli as the pasta dish. Comforting, definitely; with an aura of ease, mostly.
It was time to get out my favorite Italian cookbooks and my pasta maker. Italian cookery is so beautifully frugal and delicious, it is the ultimate comfort food as well as the perfect food to serve guests. I decided to combine some ideas I found in ravioli recipes with a variety of fillings: squash, pumpkin, and sweet potato. I used a lovely Musquee de Provence pumpkin that I had had since Thanksgiving, along with spices and seasonings, for the filling (recipe will soon be added to the Cooking page). Although the book said the recipe would serve six, one three-egg batch of pasta did not provide enough of a comfort zone for quantity, so I made two. This decision proved to be the right one--as you might imagine, there was quite a learning curve in making a presentable ravioli.
The meal was lovely--delicious food and wonderful company. I do believe that both food and company have a synergism that serves to improve both. Ordinary food can become the most memorable meal because of the people with whom you are sharing it. The pasta bowl was served with a bed of chard and spinach under the pumpkin ravioli that had first been tossed with butter and grated Parmesan. On the table was a loaf of crusty whole wheat French bread and a bottle of Merlot. And for dessert, peach pie with coffee. Life is good!
We lingered over dinner; we talked on for hours. We toasted the Egyptians who gave the world a beautiful example of how governments can be made answerable to the people, and we made every attempt to find answers to all of the social problems that thoughtful people everywhere are trying to solve. The evening drew to a close around one o'clock in the morning, and we bid our guests good-night with hugs and be careful admonishments.
Harvey and I were beginning to pick up plates and wine glasses when we heard a light tapping at the door. Our guests were back. Their car had a flat tire, and they came seeking advice from Harvey and me about what they should do. The answer was simple. None of us had a clue about how to change a tire; it was one o'clock in the morning; all of us were tired; we would all go to bed, and like Scarlet O'Hara, we would think about it in the morning. And so we did.
In the morning, we called a garage and had a person who knew what the four of us did not know come over and change the tire. Now, what's wrong with this picture? I love a challenge--I make ravioli; I make bread; there is nothing I will not try in the kitchen. Yet I cannot do the most basic thing that all drivers should be able to do. Tomorrow there will be no breakfast until I go out and find out where the jack is hidden. Then I'm going to change a tire!
My way of looking at dinner parties is a bit skewed: I tend toward the Thelma and Louise approach of taking a great leap and letting the landing take care of itself. Since I'm not the type to drive cars off cliffs or parachute out of airplanes, I suppose this small quirk gives me a shot of adrenaline seldom found in those tried and true recipes. Over the years, I've used this approach with mostly successful results, primarily because I read recipes like I read novels. I taste every ingredient as my eyes run down the list. The rising action begins with the first step, and becomes more intense as I make my way toward the final "Bake at ..." or "Serve with ..." instruction. By the time everyone is seated at the table and ready to take their first bites, I am holding my breath, waiting to see if the story is going to have a happy ending. Usually it does, or something fairly close to one, but if it doesn't, I'm the first to say, "Have more cheese, bread, and wine. A toast to happy endings!"
This weekend I had the pleasure of preparing a meal for two very dear friends, and since they were so close to me, I knew I could really do some experimentation on them. I thought about what might be simple and satisfying and delicious, and came up with pasta, sauteed chard and spinach, and French bread. My friends were bringing dessert, and there really wasn't a need for salad. Simple, satisfying, and delicious. The menu fit the bill.
Now, when I say simple, I am not necessarily talking about difficulty of preparation. Synonyms for simple in my dictionary would be comforting; with an aura of ease. Those synonyms, however, have nothing to do with the time and effort I am willing to devote to a dish that will be served to dear friends. And for this dinner party, I decided on pumpkin ravioli as the pasta dish. Comforting, definitely; with an aura of ease, mostly.
It was time to get out my favorite Italian cookbooks and my pasta maker. Italian cookery is so beautifully frugal and delicious, it is the ultimate comfort food as well as the perfect food to serve guests. I decided to combine some ideas I found in ravioli recipes with a variety of fillings: squash, pumpkin, and sweet potato. I used a lovely Musquee de Provence pumpkin that I had had since Thanksgiving, along with spices and seasonings, for the filling (recipe will soon be added to the Cooking page). Although the book said the recipe would serve six, one three-egg batch of pasta did not provide enough of a comfort zone for quantity, so I made two. This decision proved to be the right one--as you might imagine, there was quite a learning curve in making a presentable ravioli.
The meal was lovely--delicious food and wonderful company. I do believe that both food and company have a synergism that serves to improve both. Ordinary food can become the most memorable meal because of the people with whom you are sharing it. The pasta bowl was served with a bed of chard and spinach under the pumpkin ravioli that had first been tossed with butter and grated Parmesan. On the table was a loaf of crusty whole wheat French bread and a bottle of Merlot. And for dessert, peach pie with coffee. Life is good!
We lingered over dinner; we talked on for hours. We toasted the Egyptians who gave the world a beautiful example of how governments can be made answerable to the people, and we made every attempt to find answers to all of the social problems that thoughtful people everywhere are trying to solve. The evening drew to a close around one o'clock in the morning, and we bid our guests good-night with hugs and be careful admonishments.
Harvey and I were beginning to pick up plates and wine glasses when we heard a light tapping at the door. Our guests were back. Their car had a flat tire, and they came seeking advice from Harvey and me about what they should do. The answer was simple. None of us had a clue about how to change a tire; it was one o'clock in the morning; all of us were tired; we would all go to bed, and like Scarlet O'Hara, we would think about it in the morning. And so we did.
In the morning, we called a garage and had a person who knew what the four of us did not know come over and change the tire. Now, what's wrong with this picture? I love a challenge--I make ravioli; I make bread; there is nothing I will not try in the kitchen. Yet I cannot do the most basic thing that all drivers should be able to do. Tomorrow there will be no breakfast until I go out and find out where the jack is hidden. Then I'm going to change a tire!
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Solastalgia
Today is my sixty-fourth birthday, and I must admit that I am developing some characteristics of the people I pitied in my younger years--the ones who talked about "the good ole days" and found much to criticize about modern life. But just as the paranoid said he wouldn't be paranoid if so many people weren't against him, perhaps there wouldn't be so many things to criticize about modern life if there weren't so many things wrong with it!
This morning I found a glimmer of hope in an email from a long-time friend. Her birthday good wishes were accompanied by information about some of the work she is currently doing. I have included a flyer which announces an upcoming conference that seems perfectly fitting for those of you who, like me, wonder how we might find a better fit in a world we are no longer, and maybe never have been, able to understand.
Longing for Home Without Ever Leaving
The 55th Annual Louisiana Folklore Society Meeting
March 25th and 26th, 2011
Lafayette, Louisiana— It’s a peculiar homesickness. It’s something that occurs when, instead of leaving home, home leaves you. The people of South Louisiana have an intimate understanding of it. Hurricanes, breached levees, coastal erosion, oil spills, a drilling moratorium, the commercialization of a culture—our sense of home is under constant threat, and a nagging feeling of loss is widespread. It’s called solastalgia, and it is the theme of this year’s Louisiana Folklore Society Meeting.
The University of Louisiana at Lafayette is hosting the 55th Annual Louisiana Folklore Society Meeting. From Murdock University in Perth Western Australia, Dr. Glenn Albrecht will deliver a keynote address about solastalgia on Friday, March 25th at 7:00 p.m. at the Acadiana Center for the Arts. This event is free and open to the public.
On Saturday, March 26th, 9:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. presentations will be delivered at UL’s Dupre Library, 300 West Congress, by scholars from various universities with topics ranging from the coping strategies of a cattle rancher along an eroding coast, to reviving a Native American language, to the creative refiguring of coastal homes threatened by rising waters, moving them up, not out. This event is open to the public. A small registration fee is required.
Dr. Albrecht’s keynote address will reflect his recent publication on ecosystem sustainability where he presents the concept of solastalgia, a form of human distress related to the lived experience of negatively perceived environmental change. It is the longing for home without ever leaving. His work has garnered the attention of New York Times Magazine, Wired, and WorldChanging.
Today, Dr. Albrecht conducts a collaborative study into the relationship between human and ecosystem health in a coal-mining region in Australia. His keynote address will explain the similarities and differences between that project and Louisiana. “The connections between my work and Louisiana are many and varied,” says Dr. Albrecht. “What has happened in Louisiana has also taken place in Australia, especially with land clearing and dry land salinity, loss of coastal wetlands, and now, huge issues with our major river, the Murray-Darling with over-engineering and over-allocation of water permits. And ‘the big one’ of course, climate change impacting on everything.”
Dr. Albrecht goes on to explain, “due to complex consequences of our actions, or inactions, natural systems are in distress. Such distress in nature is then replicated in human culture and our health. We have multiple interacting syndromes of distress in nature, culture, physical and mental health. When I think about it, the total impact of Louisiana Distress Syndrome (LDS) is really no different than that of Western Australia Distress Syndrome.”
Conni Castille, Vice President of the Louisiana Folklore Society, says that “this meeting’s theme is a first step toward bringing Louisiana residents together to share stories on our rapidly changing home. It is why we invited Dr. Albrecht to give the keynote address. His presentation will explore the full implications associated with the collapse of our physical and mental health, caused by things we’ve done or allowed to be done.”
“Restoration and repair of damaged biophysical landscapes,” suggests Dr. Albrecht, “can only occur once we address the damage done to our conceptual, cultural, and emotional landscapes.”
We encourage and welcome the general public to both of these events. For a schedule of Saturday’s presentations, visit www.louisianafolklife.org or visit us at Facebook. Contact 337-277-5292 for more information. Sponsors include University of Louisiana, Murdoch University, Acadiana Center for the Arts, and The Independent Weekly.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Make Your Own Yogurt!
Quick and easy, though you'd never know it from the length of the directions. Check out the instructions on the Cooking page.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
A Food Manifesto for the Future
Read Mark Bittman's column in the New York Times.
Healthy food for thought...and if you feel so inclined, send this link to a few friends of yours. That will be a positive and direct action that will move us closer to the goal of healthy food for everyone.
http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/02/01/a-food-manifesto-for-the-future/?src=me&ref=general
P.S. Nothing bad will happen to you, at least not immediately, if you decide not to spread the word--but I'll be so disappointed.
Healthy food for thought...and if you feel so inclined, send this link to a few friends of yours. That will be a positive and direct action that will move us closer to the goal of healthy food for everyone.
http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/02/01/a-food-manifesto-for-the-future/?src=me&ref=general
P.S. Nothing bad will happen to you, at least not immediately, if you decide not to spread the word--but I'll be so disappointed.
A New Rule
Every few months, a new rule intended to improve life at our house is issued--by me, of course. The latest pronouncement, after considering the USDA's and Dr. Weil's number of recommended daily vegetable servings, states that we should be eating vegetables not only at lunch and supper, but also at breakfast. Harvey, being the appreciative consumer of just about everything I prepare, smiled and urged me on in my effort to continuously improve our diet.
Since then we have had greens for breakfast, carrot sticks as "fruit", and steamed broccoli as an amuse-bouche before delving into the warm comfort of grits and eggs. You might be saying, "Fine. Do what you like at your house." But, as of yesterday, I have pushed the envelope and actually tried out my new rule on unsuspecting friends.
They arrived on one of the coldest days of the year, wrapped in scarves and heavy coats, anticipating some form of classic breakfast fare that would compensate them for having to leave their down-comforted beds--grits, bacon, eggs, toast, orange juice, hot coffee, and more hot coffee. They did not know about my rule, and in my shrewdness, I waited to tell them until after everyone unwrapped and had a cup of coffee placed in front of them. By then it was too late to turn back.
Breakfast began with a small glass of freshly "squeezed" carrot juice (masticated is not a word I use at the breakfast table, though that is, in fact, how carrot juice is made--using my huge twenty-year-old Champion juicer). Guests: weak smiles; Harvey: big grin.
Undaunted, I heat a smear of olive oil in a skillet and drop in ribbons of Swiss chard and spinach, along with a handful of green onions. I light the griddle and drop a small block of butter onto the hot surface, followed quickly by eight eggs. The oven has been on for about twenty minutes heating a dish of lima beans and a loaf of pumpkin bread. Everything comes together in minutes.
The plates are served: Sauteed Chard and Spinach topped with Rosemary Lima Beans, and finished with two fried eggs--whites lacey and crunchy along the edge. The Pumpkin Bread is sliced, warm and spicy. Eyes widen and smiles break at the sight of this rule-breaking breakfast fare. Guests: raves; Harvey, raves.
Now, who can deny that we need to eat vegetables at breakfast!
Since then we have had greens for breakfast, carrot sticks as "fruit", and steamed broccoli as an amuse-bouche before delving into the warm comfort of grits and eggs. You might be saying, "Fine. Do what you like at your house." But, as of yesterday, I have pushed the envelope and actually tried out my new rule on unsuspecting friends.
They arrived on one of the coldest days of the year, wrapped in scarves and heavy coats, anticipating some form of classic breakfast fare that would compensate them for having to leave their down-comforted beds--grits, bacon, eggs, toast, orange juice, hot coffee, and more hot coffee. They did not know about my rule, and in my shrewdness, I waited to tell them until after everyone unwrapped and had a cup of coffee placed in front of them. By then it was too late to turn back.
Breakfast began with a small glass of freshly "squeezed" carrot juice (masticated is not a word I use at the breakfast table, though that is, in fact, how carrot juice is made--using my huge twenty-year-old Champion juicer). Guests: weak smiles; Harvey: big grin.
Undaunted, I heat a smear of olive oil in a skillet and drop in ribbons of Swiss chard and spinach, along with a handful of green onions. I light the griddle and drop a small block of butter onto the hot surface, followed quickly by eight eggs. The oven has been on for about twenty minutes heating a dish of lima beans and a loaf of pumpkin bread. Everything comes together in minutes.
The plates are served: Sauteed Chard and Spinach topped with Rosemary Lima Beans, and finished with two fried eggs--whites lacey and crunchy along the edge. The Pumpkin Bread is sliced, warm and spicy. Eyes widen and smiles break at the sight of this rule-breaking breakfast fare. Guests: raves; Harvey, raves.
Now, who can deny that we need to eat vegetables at breakfast!
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Killer at Large
We really don't sit around watching movies all day--but we do watch a few. The latest is Killer at Large. It's not some psycho-drama set in Fargo, N.D., or on the rocky coast of Maine. It is, once again, a documentary about the need to overhaul our food policies for health and safety.
The movie addresses the nationally recognized health problems of obesity and Type II diabetes, and their connection to governmental policy (subsidizing unhealthy Big Food, while sustainable and organic farmers are left to fend for themselves). If there is not a major turnaround in food policy and dietary patterns, children today will have a shorter projected life-span than you and I. But to get the American diet turned around, the life-line of $upport that Big Food provides to politicians will have to be cut. This means that few, if any, in Congress will be willing to take on this problem in a meaningful way. There aren't many Davids out there.
The movie addresses the nationally recognized health problems of obesity and Type II diabetes, and their connection to governmental policy (subsidizing unhealthy Big Food, while sustainable and organic farmers are left to fend for themselves). If there is not a major turnaround in food policy and dietary patterns, children today will have a shorter projected life-span than you and I. But to get the American diet turned around, the life-line of $upport that Big Food provides to politicians will have to be cut. This means that few, if any, in Congress will be willing to take on this problem in a meaningful way. There aren't many Davids out there.
The movie includes appearances by several activists who are trying to educate the public about unjust and unfair governmental food policy, inadequate food safety regulations, and the connection of both to rising health care costs. The government's inaction in overhauling its policies favoring the Big Food industry is making us sick, thereby contributing to the health-care crisis we are now facing, not to mention the deaths directly related to food-borne illnesses and the poor prognosis for our children's quality of life.
After hearing these arguments made over and over, I guess the question I would have to ask is, "How can a government persist in actions that are killing its own people?"
You can base my cynicism on watching the government's response in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina: maybe its a cheaper way of controlling population than going to war.
Watch the movie here. (The movie opens with some graphic footage of a twelve-year-old girl having liposuction. Have courage, and stick with the movie.)
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
After You...No, After YOU!
Harvey discovered these mushrooms growing in the wood chips along the side of our house. He brought them in after dark, and the hours since then have been spent trying to determine first, their identity, and second, their edibility. Of course, our efforts are limited to the one mushroom field guide that we own; therefore the mushrooms will have to conform to one of the types included in the book. So far, Harvey has come up with Flammulina velutipes, and he says they are edible. I say, "After you, my dear...."
Photos contributed by Harvey Broussard
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