I have been to the top of the mountain… and they serve hamburgers.

OK, that mild rise on Girard isn’t really even a hill, but the hamburgers really are amazing.  I’m talking about the newly opened Sketch Burger and Shake Joint, at 413 E. Girard in Fishtown [where: 19125].  Dear readers, we have a serious contender for Best Burger in Philly.

The menu is simple: burgers and shakes, and one token salad.  Pick your protein, sauce and toppings, and choose from four shake flavors (vegan or milk).  Options are beef, turkey, ’smashed onion,’ vegan burger, chicken, and American Kobe beef, as well as the day’s special, a seitan burger highly recommended by the server.  Joe and I, being hedonists, went straight for the American Kobe burger ($9.75).  He got harissa aioli, I chose Thai peanut sauce on the side.  I went for grilled onions and avocado.  The burger arrived, and it was massive.  Really, I cannot believe they crammed that much meat into one burger.  Most kobe burgers tend to be on the small side– $9.75 may be expensive for a burger, but for kobe it’s really an excellent deal.  It arrived medium rare, thank God– overcooking meat of that quality is a sin.  We got our burgers to go, so the bun was slightly soggy, but it really held up well given the juiciness of the burger.  The grilled onions sat below the patty, and above it were slippery sliced avocado, a slice of juicy ripe tomato and some high-quality salad greens.  This is a difficult burger to eat.  It’s crammed full of fresh ingredients that want to come bursting right out of the bun.  The effort, however, is worth it, as is the 20-minute wait while your burger is cooked to order.  The end result is incredibly rich, flavorful, juicy, and did I mention rich?  It was a bit of a shock to my system since I’ve been eating lightly recently, but very much worth it.

We also shared a vanilla milkshake, which was flavorful and thick but not too thick.  (As Joe put it: “Thick, but I won’t have a brain embolism trying to suck it through a straw.”)  Everything is made fresh here, so no chalky chemical taste either.  I try to take it easy on the lactose, so I’m really looking forward to trying a vegan shake.

The shop itself is cute; there are blackboards everywhere and rolls of butcher paper on the tables, and customers are encouraged to doodle with chalk (hence the “Sketch” name).  It’s also open until 11 pm, which is wonderful for those of us who live in the neighborhood.  And vegans, vegetarians and the lactose-intolerant can all find joy in this menu.

I found only two downsides to our delicious, gut-busting meal.  One was the cheese selection: American (ew, plastic), horseradish cheddar, pepper jack, vegan and bleu.  One straightforward cheese option, an aged cheddar or maybe a sharp provolone, would be welcome.  The other was the standard side order of Cheesy Poofs– ours were stale.  Sketch would be better off dropping the little orange orbs and developing the ultimate French fry.  They’ve mastered the ultimate hamburger, so why not?

Good news for Fishtowners!  Chef Raju Bhattarai, formerly the executive chef at Tiffin, has opened his own restaurant, Ekta, at 250 E. Girard [where: 19125].  I stopped by the small storefront space yesterday, and Chef Bhattarai and his staff were busy putting on the finishing touches.  They greeted me warmly and handed me a menu.  Most of the choices are indistinguishable from Tiffin’s menu, no surprise there, but the prices are much more affordable.  One intriguing difference is in the bread section.  In addition to the usual suspects like garlic naan, roti, and the heavenly fruit-and-nut-stuffed Peshawari naan, Ekta offers basil naan, mint naan and rosemary naan.  Hours are also a bit longer than Tiffin’s: Ekta is open until 10 pm Monday-Saturday and 9 pm Sunday, good news for those of us who work the twilight shift.  City Paper reports that a second-floor dining room is in the works as well.  Opening day is today, so drop by if you get a chance– and send me a report!

The other restaurant opening today on Girard is Sketch Burger Joint, a brightly painted pink-and-yellow space run by the owners of Canvas Coffee Co.  The menu advertises itself as vegan-friendly, and wagyu burgers, high-end condiments and vegan milk shakes are on offer (check out the menu over at Foobooz).  Oh, this is a good thing.

Of course, you can’t talk about Girard without mentioning its unquestioned king, Johnny Brenda’s.   We had dinner at Brenda’s the day we moved to Fishtown, and haven’t stopped dropping by.  The new venue space on the second and third floors is a great place to see bands like Slim Cessna’s Auto Club, but what I’m really happy about is the expanded dining room, where the seating is much more comfortable, and you can hear your dinner partner talk.  Brenda’s menu is updated regularly, and the innovation hasn’t stopped yet– my latest favorite is the crab cake salad, three perfect, slightly spicy crabcakes with a creamy dressing and a pile of dark, flavorful salad greens.   I’ll really be happy when the Greek-inspired lamb sliders Brenda’s offered at the Trenton Avenue Arts Festival finally make it onto the menu.  I’ve been craving those for months.

So the economy is crashing and burning, and with oil pushing $150 a barrel, it’s unlikely that food prices will drop, or even plateau, anytime soon.  Most people are struggling to get by (link via What to Eat), and food banks are struggling to keep up with demand as hunger increases among the working poor.

As you might expect, the food media is following suit by publishing lots of money-saving tips.  We’re encouraged to pack our lunches, stop buying prepared foods, eat legumes instead of meat and use coupons wisely- good ideas all.  Our grandparents survived the Depression, and our generation has a lot to learn from them.

But what do you eat when you’re really, really broke?  When you’re down to the change in your couch cushions, what’s for dinner?  Is Taco Bell the only option?

Well, readers, my dear husband and I are card-carrying members of the Working Poor, and we faced this question very regularly in college and then during some lean years trying to survive in New York City.  Since Joe in particular is a master at making something from nothing, we’ve amassed some lovely food-emergency recipes to share with you.  Well… lovely might be pushing it, but they’ll get you through the day.   Here are our top five day-before-payday meals.

1. Hobo stew

This is definitely Depression food.  The principle is simple: Take whatever you have in the kitchen and put it into a pot.  Canned vegetables are particularly good for this.  They’re really cheap, relatively healthy, and almost everyone has a few in the pantry somewhere.  (Our last apartment actually came with two cans of corn– and yes, we used them.)  And the liquid the veggies are packed in can go right into the stew as broth.  Canned tomatoes, corn, and beans are all great for stew.  If you have any broth, add it– if not, use the can liquid and maybe some hot water.  Then it’s improv time: do you have a potato to chop up and add?  How about that last strip of bacon?  Some leftover chicken?  A clove of garlic?  Spices?  A cup of rice?  Throw it into a pot and cook it until it’s all tender enough to eat.  Ideally, you want liquid, a protein, a veggie, a starch, and some sort of aromatic, but there are no hard and fast rules.

2. Noodles with peanut sauce.

I learned this one from my lovely and talented college roommate.  Boil some noodles and drain them.  Put them back in the pot and add peanut butter.  Stir it in until it melts.  Add some cayenne pepper or hot sauce.  The end.  Sounds gross, but it’s actually really tasty.  Ideally this should be garnished with chopped scallions and peanuts, but it’s the day before payday, so probably not.

3. Fried rice with egg

This is a good way to use leftover rice.  The rice should be at least a day old.  Heat some oil in a pan and add the rice.  Break an egg into it and stir it over high heat until it’s cooked– make sure to mix it into the rice well.  Add any proteins or vegetables you have: diced leftover meat, crumbled bacon, nuts, be creative.

4. Beans and Rice

So many ways to make beans and rice, and they’re all so cheap and delicious.  This is a worldwide staple, with hundreds of variations across the Americas, Africa, Asia, the Pacific… who doesn’t eat beans and rice?  If you don’t keep rice and lentils in your pantry, I strongly urge you to get to your local Asian supermarket (where they’re about ten times cheaper than at Whole Foods) as quickly as possible and buy at least a five-pound bag.   Here is a basic dal recipe, and there are infinite variations on this, so don’t fret if you don’t have all of the spices.  Here’s a Lebanese dish that uses fava beans and some stew meat.  Here’s one from Serious Eats that involves bell peppers and an onion.  But if you’re really broke: take a cup of cooked rice, a can of black or red beans, and two cloves of garlic.   (A piece of pork fat would be great if you have one– in Southern US tradition this should have lard in it.)  Combine in a pan, salt, and heat until delicious.

5. Crepes

Yes, crepes.  We think of them as fancy and French, but they’re really easy to make, and all you need to have is a little flour.  Once you make a little stack, you can do lots of things with them.  Need dinner?  Take a potato, dice it finely, fry it up with whatever spices you have around the house and use it as a crepe filling.  (Sort of a bastardized American version of masala dosa.)  Looking for breakfast?  Smear it with peanut butter and roll it up if you’re in a hurry– if not, make a stack and pour maple syrup on it.  Dessert?  Fry them in butter and sprinkle on some cinnamon sugar.   Be creative.  Crepes can do anything.  Here’s Joe’s crepe tutorial:

Basic Crepe Batter

1 1/2 C. Milk (Vanilla Soy is good too)
1 Cup of Flour, sifted
2 Eggs
1 tsp. Melted Butter
Pinch of Salt
Vanilla

First, whisk together the eggs, salt and milk. Add the flour a little at a time with continued whisking to avoid lumps. The measurements above should be accurate but the consistency of the batter should be thin (thinner than pancake batter). Add the melted butter and vanilla and mix. Allow the batter to sit at least 15 minutes, then whisk again. Add more milk if the batter has thickened.

Heat a crepe pan or a heavy non-stick pan until it is very hot. A drop of water should crackle and evaporate. Coat the pan lightly with butter or vegetable oil. Quickly, before the butter or oil burns, use a ladle and drop some of the batter in the middle of the pan. The amount of batter is right when you can pick up the pan, swirl it around, and wind up with a thin coat of batter on the pan. When the batter bubbles you should be able to see through it to the pan. This just takes doing a couple of them to judge the right amount of batter. Use a spatula and turn the crepe and cook for about another 30 seconds. Remove to a plate. You can keep warm in a very low oven, just put waxed paper or parchment between each one. Crepes freeze very well if packed airtight.

I’ve made these gluten free with GF flour and they worked well.

We buy everything, and have no idea by which the articles are produced, and have no means of knowing before hand what the quality may be… Relatively we are in a state of barbarous innocence, as compared with our grandmothers, about the common articles of daily use.

-Ellen Richards, home economist, 1885

I picked up Ann Vileisis’s Kitchen Literacy: How we lost knowledge of where food comes from, and why we need to get it back at the suggestion of a reader, and I’m glad I did.  It’s a fast, fun overview of an important topic.

Vileisis takes the reader from the kitchens of the late 18th-century New England to those of the present day, tracing the history of the American food system from its pastoral beginnings through its process of industrialization.  She shows how each successive generation has been a step or two further removed from knowledge of where food comes from, and explores the social changes and food scandals that shaped the balance between what people want to eat and what the food industry offers them.  She wraps up by arguing that if we’re going to have a sustainable system that doesn’t poison us on a regular basis, we’re going to need to regain an understanding of seasons, local specializations, and where our food comes from.

It’s a simple enough thesis, and Vileisis doesn’t overcomplicate things– her explorations of the changing roles of women, the nature of work and living patterns, and the politics of federal agencies are mostly cursory.  I didn’t learn much that I hadn’t already read, but I’m pretty well read on this subject.  If you haven’t already exhausted the works of Marion Nestle, Michael Pollan, Friedrich Engels and Upton Sinclair, you’ll find much to enlighten you– and even if you have, it’s an enjoyable and accessible synthesis of what can be a complicated literature.

The joy of this book is in the details Vileisis digs up in her extensive research.  She uses antique cans, product labels and advertisements to trace the way food manufacturers have adapted their pitch to appeal to the needs of each new generation of consumers.  The book is packed with little gems, like a 1928 Piggly Wiggly ad that appeals to the liberated woman (complete with chic hat) by telling her how the new self-service supermarket gives her self-sufficiency:

The woman of today!  So self-reliant now in all her shopping– so sure of her new skill!  Only yesterday her mother depended almost wholly on the advice of salesmen when she bought food-stuffs…  The woman of today with her new, wide knowledge of real values has blazed a trail of her own.  The she may be entirely free to choose for herself, she has made this plan of household buying a nation-wide vogue.

These details really bring the book to life.  (Especially for cultural studies types like me, who loooove to deconstruct advertising.)

Vileisis begins in colonial Maine, where she draws on the wonderful diary of midwife and farm matriarch Martha Ballard (worth a read in itself) to illustrate how very close Americans once were to the sources of our food.  Back then, you knew your milk was fresh because you milked the cow yourself.  Food came directly from sweat and hard work– you grew it yourself, or you traded what you grew for what your neighbors were growing.

As the nineteenth century began, the country began to urbanize rapidly, and the countryside began producing for the city.  A city’s foodshed consisted mostly of the farms in the surrounding countryside, plus a few exotic items like sugar and tropical fruits that were shipped in.  Food was mostly sold fresh in open-air markets.  But as cities industrialized and transportation improved, food was being brought in from more and more far-flung locations.  Fresh food often didn’t survive the trip too well– fruits and vegetables were beginning to rot, and cattle were bruised and emaciated from long and brutal train trips.  This was when the food system began an industrialization of its own, with the introduction of canned produce and “Chicago-dressed” meats (killed and dressed before being shipped).  Vileisis does a great job of illustrating the initial suspicious reactions of people used to fresh foods– it was, after all, a hard sell to convince people to buy food they couldn’t see until they’d paid for it.  Early canning methods were worthy of their skepticism– it took a while for canners to realize that if cans weren’t heated to a specific temperature, botulism could grow and thrive. Food poisoning was quite common in those days, and even well into the twentieth century: Armour’s canned meats notoriously killed nearly as many World War I soldiers as the enemy did.

But social changes prevailed over skepticism: agricultural jobs gave way to factory work, and city children grew up never seeing live plants and animals.  More and more women entered the workplace, not only out of a desire for freedom from traditional roles, but also just to earn enough to keep families afloat.  They had less time to spend shopping and cooking, and convenience foods began to sell widely.  As new generations were raised on canned and prepackaged foods, they became the familiar, comforting norm– and advertisements became less about connecting products to “nature” and more about creating an imaginary world of bountiful farms and idyllic countryside that would appeal to the eyes of consumers.  (Vileisis’s description of the term “natural” and its evolving meaning to generations of consumers is a highlight of the book.)

While each generation had different emotional and cultural needs to which food producers responded, consumers also had fears that shaped both federal regulation and product marketing.  The food system has never been free of problems– from the horrific slaughterhouse conditions Upton Sinclair portrayed in nauseating detail in The Jungle (1906) to, um, the horrific slaughterhouse conditions Eric Schlosser portrayed in nauseating detail in Fast Food Nation (2001).  Contemporary readers are also consumers, and today’s worries about tomatoes, spinach, e. coli and pet food from China will seem familiar in Vileisis’s descriptions of scandals over adulterated jam, pesticide residues in canned vegetables and sodium benzoate (a poisonous and once-controversial preservative still widely used in manufactured foods):

Even as serious concerns were raised and not addressed, most consumers had little choice but to continue their grocery shopping as usual.  What could an individual shopper do about the fact that pesticides killed fish, that chickens were jammed into cages, or that agriculture used too much oil?  Through the 1950s most American shoppers’ lack of awareness about their foods may have been characterized by a naive “I don’t know,” but by the mid-1970s, with more prevalent news of toxic pesticide residues and repugnant animal factories, it had become an anxious and resigned “I don’t want to know.”

Sound familiar?  She follows this with a quick overview of the rise of the organic food movement and a call for consumers to become more involved with their food choices.  It’s surprisingly short, though in fairness, how to do so can be (and is) enough for an entire book in itself.

Kitchen Literacy is a fascinating book.  It’s not a food-politics education in itself, but it’s a great jumping-off point for those new to food politics, and might inspire even the skeptical to read further, and better yet, to ask some pointed questions about what’s in the food they eat.

I’ve been around the block a few times, nutritionally speaking. I’ve been diagnosed with celiac disease (wrong) and Crohn’s disease (right, we think), I’ve spent countless hours at the allergist’s office, I’ve been told to follow diet after diet. Yet through all of that, none of my HMOs have ever allowed me to visit a nutritionist*– until now. My HMO is offering six free visits as a promotion, so I made an appointment.

I selected a nutritionist who works from the same office as my (totally fabulous and lifesaving!) gastroenterologist. I was so excited– finally, answers! Marion Nestle’s advice on what to eat is great, but with a Crohn’s diagnosis, I really felt like I needed more targeted advice. Not only that, but I’ve had some issues lately with my eating patterns. I’ll starve all day and then stuff myself at night, or eat a healthy lunch only to binge on junk food in the evening. I’ll cast around for something healthy to eat that won’t worsen a flare-up, only to come up empty-handed and drink an Ensure instead. I gain weight when I think I should be losing, and lose when I think I should be gaining.

In other words, I’ve got a weird, complex and emotionally fraught relationship with food, just like a whole lot of other people in this sexist, diet-obsessed society, and I thought maybe seeing a nutritionist would help.

The verdict? Helpful, but not in the ways I expected.

I think I expected that my nutritionist (let’s call her Gloria) would be a brilliant, status-quo-questioning Slow Food heroine like Marion, and together we’d figure out delicious ways to keep me healthy while subverting the food industry.

Then I got there, and my nutritionist’s desk was piled with product wrappers. They were everywhere- 100-calorie packs, whole grain cookies, South Beach meal replacement bars, Benefiber, you name it. You know how Michael Pollan advises us not to eat anything that makes a health claim on the wrapper?** Well, here were all of those wrappers, arranged on her desk and shelves, trumpeting their whole grains and omega-3 fatty acids.

I explained that I try to stick to a Slow Food diet as much as possible– I try to avoid mass-produced foods and ingredients I can’t pronounce, and I buy local food whenever possible. I don’t think Gloria ever had a client say something like this before: it seemed to throw her for a loop. She had a boilerplate diet plan in Word that she was customizing as we talked, and it was full of mass-produced, brand-name foods. I had to explain that I don’t think much of Kraft cheese slices, although I’m sure they are a fine source of calcium, and she brightened a little as we talked about our favorite “real” cheeses. I asked about healthy snacks, and she steered me toward 100-calorie packs of various junk foods.

To be fair, I get what she’s trying to do. Most people who aren’t obsessive foodies don’t venture far beyond their local supermarket or convenience store. When the Average American (that mythical creature) goes to a nutritionist, they want to be assured that they can make healthier choices without having to give up familiar brands and tastes, shop in inconvenient places, or eat foods they’ve never heard of. That’s why food companies put health claims on their products, after all– why should you have to spend time cooking, shopping and reading when you can just pick one box instead of another?

But doing those things will actually help you become much healthier. They’ll help you to connect your food with your culture and environment, get to know and support local farmers, and start thinking about the food you eat in its political, historical and cultural context. Oh yeah, and it’ll won’t have that nasty chemical taste, and it probably won’t be recalled.

So what did I learn that was useful? Well, Gloria knew quite a bit about Crohn’s-specific nutritional issues, and that was helpful. She stressed choosing foods that are easy to digest, and preparations that maximize your body’s ability to absorb vitamins. These recommendations focus more on that than on weight loss– she didn’t seem terribly concerned with fat and sugar– but they’re certainly useful. Gloria also respected my request that we focus on my Crohn’s rather than on weight loss, and didn’t criticize my body, which was a pleasant surprise.

Some helpful hints:

• Nuts are hard to digest; nut butters are easy, and they’re a great source of protein.
• Eggs are your friends– they’re jam-packed with protein and vitamins. (And cholesterol, so you can’t go too crazy, but one a day is fine if you don’t have cholesterol problems.)
• Don’t be fat-phobic– fats are important in absorbing vitamins. Eating vegetables with fats is the best way to gain all of their nutritional benefits, so go ahead and put dressing on that salad.
• Big, greasy meals, however, are not helpful. Try to keep it light.
• Although whole grains are the Next Big Thing advertised on every box, refined grains are easier for Crohn’s patients to digest.
• Even if you’re not lactose-intolerant, avoid dairy products if you’re having a flare-up. The act of digesting lactose basically involves fermenting it in your stomach, and if your intestines are already experiencing turbulence, the last thing you want to do is add to it. Even if you’re not flaring, a few dairy digestion pills can be helpful.
• Generally, try to stay away from small, sharp, hard things. Fruits with seeds, nuts, chunky peanut butter, etc. can all irritate our already irritated intestines. And for god’s sake, stay the hell away from popcorn!
• Small meals are easier to digest than big ones– a huge lump of food sitting in your stomach can really make things go haywire. (I know this, but those pork sandwiches at Abner’s are just so hard to resist.) Eat a few small meals and lots of snacks throughout the day, and don’t eat much at night.
• Hydrate like crazy. Crohnies are particularly subject to dehydration, so just keep drinking. Water is best, but if you’re flaring and you can’t eat, you can get some calories from Gatorade or Vitamin Water.
• My intuition was right– the two best foods for flare-ups are oatmeal and sushi. Seriously, sushi works miracles! I ate it last time I had a flare-up and felt better almost instantly. Skip the veggies and wasabi and go straight for the fish and rice.

So that’s what I learned… lots of useful Crohn’s tips, some not-so-great product recommendations, and very little subversion. Gloria also suggested keeping a food diary, something I’ve attempted several times with limited success. It turns out that not all nutritionists are on the bleeding edge of radical food politics, something I probably should have guessed– but even the mainstream ones have some useful advice, as long as you know how to think about it critically.

Readers, what’s your favorite Crohn’s nutrition tip? What kinds of experiences have you had with professional nutritionists?

*I was told by my insurance company that only diabetics may see a nutritionist. No, people in danger of developing diabetes may not see a nutritionist, and neither can people with severe nutritional issues, such as celiacs. Think that’s insane? Advocate for health care as a human right!

** “Of course it’s… a lot easier to slap a health claim on a box of sugary cereal than on a potato or carrot, with the perverse result that the most healthful foods in the supermarket sit there quietly in the produce section, silent as stroke victims, while a few aisles over, the Cocoa Puffs and Lucky Charms are screaming about their newfound whole-grain goodness.”

Dear Readers,

Many of you have checked in to ask where I’ve been. I’m sorry for the long drought in posting; I’m afraid my offline life has gotten in the way. I’ve been swamped at work and am keeping long hours right now; combined with health issues and the total disintegration of our ISP, it’s been rough just keeping up with daily life.

Posting will be light for a while, but the Real Potato is very much alive and will be back in gear soon. Posts are in the works, on topics such as a trip to the nutritionist, homemade egg salad even a mayo-hater can love, old-fashioned food preservation techniques for a newly depressed economy, and some love for the new/old Philadelphia Brewing Co.

In the meantime, here’s a fresh, tasty bowl of link salad!

Chris Williams analyzes the UN conference on the food crisis at Socialist Worker; Sam Urquhart does the same over at MRZine.

The Independent investigates how multinational corporations are profiteering during the food crisis.

This time it’s tomatoes: Gourmet examines the latest food recall. Marion Nestle replies.

Shapely Prose has a rollicking debate about Japan’s new program to pressure and shame workers into losing weight by any means necessary.

Fishtowners rejoice- you have a new hangout.  The new Memphis Taproom [where: 19125] opened this week at the corner of Memphis and Cumberland, and Joe and I went to check it out last night.

It’s a simple spot– a bar, a small dining room, wooden floors and lighted glass blocks for decoration.  The menu, too, is simple: hot appetizers, salads, sandwiches and platters, with an excellent selection of local beers on tap and reasonably priced bottles.  The food is straightforward– burgers, fried chicken, sandwiches– but it’s clear that chef Jesse Kimball, formerly of Center City’s Matyson, knows what he’s doing.  There are little creative twists on each dish that make this bar food into something special.  Jacket potatoes come with real, aged cheddar, not the canned stuff; steak frites are tinged with garlic and served with a light arugula salad and excellent fries.  Fish and chips can be ordered with fish, or with miso-marinated battered tofu.  The hot appetizers are substantial enough to satisfy late-night drinkers, and the meal portions are filling without the giant-plate excess offered at so many Philly restaurants.  Joe’s pulled-pork sandwich was a toasted roll filled with smoky, tender pork, spicy barbecue sauce and an inventive smoked coleslaw.

Memphis Taproom has only been open for four days, so some of the kinks are still being worked out: not all of the beers we ordered were actually available yet, and desserts, brunch and the late-night menu aren’t up and running yet.  Still, there’s no question that this will be a regular hangout for Fishtown locals and neo-Fishtown hipsters alike– they were represented in just about equal numbers when we visited.  It’s a balance that many local businesses find difficult to strike, and Memphis Taproom is succeeding so far: enticing hipsters with retro decor, lots of vegetarian and vegan options, and a sophisticated beer menu, while also making longtime locals feel welcome with reasonable prices, tasty interpretations of local classics like pirogies and Polish sausage (a dish that’s close to my Pittsburgh heart) and an unpretentious atmosphere.  (No cheesesteaks on the menu, though.)

The Taproom’s website says that Kimball is “currently studying the foodways of America’s inner cities,” and he’s certainly picked a good place to do that.  I for one am looking forward to walking down the street and sampling his interpretations of Philly cuisine on a regular basis.  Especially those steak frites.

So, I was in Trader Joe’s grocery shopping and I saw that they had these small watermelons for sale. I know that Sarah isn’t a big fan but even if she didn’t eat any I could probably eat one of these small ones. So, I bought it and put it in the fridge. When Sarah came home and saw the watermelon she challenged me.  “Make me like watermelon!  That is your mission!” she said.

OK. So now it was on. I had to come up with something. One night when Sarah said she wanted something light I went to work. I made soy and honey marinated chicken breast salad with red onions and watermelon. And for dessert, I made a watermelon granita with Limoncello on the side.

For the salad I made a raspberry vinaigrette in which to marinate the onions. For the vinaigrette:

1/2 cup raspberries (fresh or frozen)

1 tbsp balsamic vinegar

1 tbsp rice wine vinegar

Olive oil

Juice of one lime

Salt and pepper

Combine all ingredients except olive oil in a blender or food processor. Gradually add the olive oil until it comes together to the desired consistency.

Slice one red onion into rings, place in a bowl and pour the vinaigrette over the onions. Allow to marinate for an hour or longer.

For the chicken marinade:

1/4 cup of canola oil

Juice of one lime

2 tbsp dark soy sauce

2 tbsp regular soy sauce

2 tbsp honey

1 inch of ginger root sliced

Salt and pepper

Stir ingredients together and add chicken breasts. Coat and marinate for an hour or so.

Shake the chicken of excess marinade and cook on the stove top on medium high heat. Cook 2-3 minutes on each side until the sugars in the marinade begin to brown. Transfer to a baking dish and finish in a 350 degree oven for 10-15 minutes. Remove from oven, cool for five minutes and slice into strips on the bias.

Construct the salad by laying down a bed of arugula. Top with the marinated onions, cubes of watermelon, the chicken and some of the vinaigrette.

For the granita, add 3-4 cups of watermelon, juice of one lime and some pomegranate syrup to a blender. Blend until smooth and slowly add in 1/3 cup of simple syrup (1/3 cup of sugar dissolved in 1/3 of boiling water and cooled for at least 10 minutes). Strain through a strainer pressing the solids through. Pour into a baking dish and put in the freezer for 2 1/2 to 3 hours. Every half hour scrape and stir the granita until fully frozen. Serve in martini glasses with Limoncello served on the side in vodka or shot glasses.

Sarah was happy with the dishes. I was happy because I can add watermelon to a growing list of foods that Sarah will eat because of me.

Both dishes are gluten and dairy free.

Image from al-Arab Online.

A few years ago, when I started eating a strict gluten-free diet, my grocery bill tripled. I was shocked at having to pay $6 for a loaf of bread, and began using a bread maker to try to cut costs. Gluten-eating friends and family were invariably horrified when I told them how much gluten-free bread cost.

Today, a $6 loaf of bread isn’t uncommon. The price of flour has risen 40.6% this quarter, according to Forbes Magazine. Friend of the blog KeenEye, who owns a gourmet pizzeria in Oregon, reports:

Our flour?

Now at $37.52 a bag.

Yep. From $9 bucks a bag 142 days ago.

I’m pretty much freaking out.

She’s not alone. Wheat and rice prices are spiraling, causing a rising sense of panic. Business magazines have begun throwing around words like “famine” and “peak wheat.” Rice has hit a 20-year high, and many rice-exporting countries are instituting bans or caps on exports in the hopes of meeting domestic demand:

Vietnam’s government announced here on Friday that it would cut rice exports by nearly a quarter this year. The government hoped that keeping more rice inside the country would hold down prices.

The same day, India effectively banned the export of all but the most expensive grades of rice. Egypt announced on Thursday that it would impose a six-month ban on rice exports, starting April 1, and on Wednesday, Cambodia banned all rice exports except by government agencies. (New York Times)

Food prices are spiking everywhere: while US consumers are feeling the squeeze with an overall 8.9% increase, in Egypt, prices are up by 50%. Food riots have broken out in Guinea, Mauritania, Mexico, Morocco, Senegal, Uzbekistan and Yemen, according to the Times; the Globe and Mail adds Egypt and Cameroon to the list.

There are a number of reasons for the spike in prices. Much of the farmland once devoted to wheat is now dedicate to corn for ethanol production. Ethanol production is also cutting into the production of corn for food, leading to an increase in prices for corn-based ingredients– and as fans of Michael Pollan already know, corn is in just about every processed food produced in the US, in one form or another. Last year 24% of the US corn crop went to ethanol production, and that number is expected to increase this year, thanks to heavy subsidies in the US and European Union.

Droughts in Australia, bad harvests in South America, urbanization of farmland across Asia, and rice-destroying plant viruses in Vietnam (where rice prices have risen 60%), in addition to export caps, are also driving increases. Increased demand for meat in India and China means that a greater amount of grain goes to livestock, since it takes about eight pounds of grain to produce one pound of beef. And since the global food industry relies on oil for processing, transportation and packaging, among other things, the soaring cost of petroleum (thanks, George!) keeps pushing food prices into the stratosphere.

Dwindling grain reserves are adding to the global sense of unease. MSN Money reports that

wheat inventories, called “carry-overs” in the trade, are at 30-year lows even though world wheat production was actually up 1% last year. In the past year, reports show, wheat inventories in the European Union have plunged to 1 million tons from 14 million tons.

A leading Canadian fertilizer executive told analysts recently that according to his company’s calculations, global grain reserves are “precarious,” at just 1.7 months of consumption, down from 3.5 months of reserves as recently as 2000.

In Asia as well, rice inventories have fallen, as the cost of maintaining them increases. Indian economist D.H. Pai Panindiker told VOA News: “At one time, we used to have very large buffer stocks, and those stocks have come down drastically. Now the possibility of expanding that scheme to reach more people is almost out of question, because there are just no stocks available.”

In a crisis that is squeezing even the middle classes, the consequences for the poor will be drastic. In the US, demand is up at food banks, and shoppers are finding new ways to cut down on food expenditures. An MSN message board that asked readers how they were keeping their food bills down garnered 37 pages of responses, most of them along the lines of this one:

We have gone from having 3 regular meals to breakfast, really small lunch (fruit or a yogurt) and an early dinner. We have been going to bed a bit earlier also to avoid being hungry after an early dinner. Seems to be working . The only thing I “splurge” on is hormone free milk. also stopped buying canned goods except for generic cream of chicken/mush. I have noticed that the junk food (which we dont buy) has stayed the same price or is always on some ultra-low sale… go figure…

But the squeeze will be even more drastic in countries already suffering from high rates of hunger. China has begun cracking down on angry citizens, whose demands for food threaten China’s already tarnished Olympic image. Half of Indian children under five already suffer from malnutrition. What will happen to them? How will Somalians, whose government is on the verge of collapse as the threat of famine looms, survive?

Joe and I are feeling the squeeze between food prices, rising prescription copays and student loans. We’ve started writing weekly menus and buying only what we need for the meals we outline. We’re designing them to utilize leftovers as much as possible, and to rely on local ingredients when we can– they’re starting to look like a bargain these days. No more buying lunch out, and I’m afraid we won’t be reviewing too many high-end restaurants. Tell me, readers, what are you doing to survive the crunch? Do you think this is the end of cheap food for good, as some economists are predicting?  Also, if any of you readers are more conversant than I am with the ins and outs of the commodities market, I’d love your input.

The health crisis here in the US is reaching a critical point. There are drugs in our drinking water, sick cows in our meat supply, and additives in pretty much everything. We’re seeing huge increases in diabetes rates and bowel disease. We are not a healthy country.

The food industry isn’t entirely to blame: pollution, occupational exposure to chemicals, and lack of time/money to exercise are part of it too. You can’t simply blame one industry, but the overall effect of all of these factors is that we are exposed to a brew of chemicals unprecedented in human history, and we don’t know exactly how it is affecting us. You can study, say, the effects of dioxin exposure through tampon use; but what happens to someone who’s exposed to a multitude of chemical products through tampon use and food additives and pesticides and polluted water and industrial chemicals released into the air? How do you control for all that? You don’t, you can’t, so we’re reduced to guesswork. And a lack of proof means that the government can’t or won’t curb the corporations that pollute. (See Sandra Steingraber’s Living Downstream for more on this.)

So what do we do? (Solutions after the jump.)

Much of this we can’t control on an individual basis: it will require government regulation and possibly a mass protest movement to see any serious curbs on industrial pollution.

However, the one thing that we know helps is good, fresh food. Eating fresh food, especially whole grains, fruits and vegetables, instead of processed foods is probably the best thing you can do for your health.

Easy, right?

Well, no. Here’s why:

-Fresh food is expensive. Whole Foods has the nickname “Whole Paycheck” for a reason. Our distribution systems are no longer set up to deliver fresh foods to people; they’re set up to deliver processed foods with long shelf lives. We used to have the milkman; now we have Coke at McDonald’s. And global food prices are rising sharply thanks to increased oil prices, climate change and diversion of food resources to ethanol production.

-Fresh food can be difficult to obtain. If you live in the right place, you probably have access to a farmer’s market or two, as well as a Whole Foods or other health food store. If you live in the suburbs, you probably have access to some supermarkets. But if you live in a poor neighborhood, you aren’t likely to get a supermarket– you’ll have to make do with convenience stores. That goes for people in poor rural areas as well. And if you don’t have a car, you’ll have to find a way to get to a grocery store on your day off (if you have one) and get your groceries home.

-Fresh food has to be cooked. Which is all well and good if you can work at home, or if a member of the family can stay home and handle the housework, shopping and cooking– but let’s face it, the vast majority of families either don’t have two adults, or can’t afford to have an adult stay out of the workforce. It takes at least two incomes just to survive these days. And when you’re working full time, it’s just not realistic to expect to come home and whip up a fresh gourmet meal from scratch. Which is why so many people eat at McDonald’s– what, you thought people just went for the delicious food?

-We don’t know what fresh food tastes like. Kids raised on convenience foods grow up to think food has to be sweet or salty to taste good. They often won’t eat vegetables when they do have the opportunity, because they’re not used to their tastes and textures. And those kids, as grownups, feed their children the same way. If you’re never taught to cook, don’t eat at restaurants that serve classic dishes, and don’t include fresh food in your diet, how can you teach your kids to do otherwise?

If you’re incredibly determined, willing to spend a significant portion of your budget on food and a significant portion of your time cooking, you have someone with whom to divide the labor, and you’re highly organized and resourceful, it is possible to eat a healthy, fresh/whole foods diet as a working-class person. But it’s hard. Joe and I try to do it. We struggle, and some weeks we fail. When things get difficult, you’re stressed or sick or working extra hours, it’s easy to find yourself eating takeout (or– let’s be real here– bags of Oreos).

So what’s the solution? Here are some of the ideas currently in play:

-Ad campaigns. TV networks, the government and plenty of other entities are telling us to exercise and get healthy. These ads have three problems. One, they don’t do a damn thing to solve the practical problems outlined above. Two, they focus on encouraging exercise (a good thing) instead of dietary prescriptions (eat less sugar, don’t drink pop, cut back on meat), which are guaranteed to offend the food industry. (For an in-depth analysis of how such concerns affect the USDA’s Food Pyramid, read Marion Nestle’s Food Politics.) Three, their focus tends to be on weight loss rather than overall health (not the same thing).

-Pressuring food companies to offer healthy alternatives. McDonald’s is now serving salads and fruit, and food retailers are racing each other to offer Whole Grain Froot Loops and vitamin-laced Diet Coke. Problem is, an additive-laden sugar bomb with a small amount of whole grains in it is still an additive-laced sugar bomb. As Marion Nestle says, while demolishing this concept in her book What to Eat, “Why not get your vitamins from food?”

-Food banks. These are great in theory, but in practice they’re often stocked with unhealthy, additive-laden foods– shelf-stable foods are generally a requirement for food bank donations, and the government products that supplement them are often of low quality. Food banks are also overextended right now because of the economic downturn and budget cuts by the “compassionate conservative” Bush administration. However, if food banks could partner with farmers’ markets to offer fresh foods, they could be a great resource for getting good food into the hands of the people who need it.

-Community gardens and urban farming. This is a great idea that’s beginning to spread. It’s a low-cost way to allow people who don’t have their own land to grow vegetables and herbs. It’s a great way for kids to learn about food, and you’re more likely to be invested in the idea of eating well when you’re actually growing the food yourself. It also encourages neighbors to get to know one another and to share knowledge. It is a serious time commitment, though, and not everyone can manage that. When it works, though, community gardens can be a great resource. In my neighborhood, we have both community gardens and an urban farm, Greensgrow, which supplies fresh local produce to just about every restaurant in the neighborhood. You can also sign up for farm shares, and pick up a bag of produce every week in season. It’s a lot of money to lay out up front, but it does save in the long run.

-Connecting farmers and inner-city grocers. This idea is being pioneered in San Francisco, where community groups are exploring new ways to get the food to the people:

The programs vary from the Mobile Market in West Oakland, where high school students drive the red and purple truck through neighborhoods to sell farm-fresh produce to residents and learn about running a business, to farm stands in schools and hospitals in Richmond and Berkeley, designed to serve people who don’t live near a farmers’ market or affordable store. In San Francisco’s Bayview-Hunters Point, organizers have brought a healthy produce section back to a grocery store that used to focus more on alcohol and Fritos.

These programs, many funded by government agencies, often bypass traditional distribution channels to work directly with farmers in ways that haven’t been seen before.

-School gardens. Berkeley, CA restauranteur, chef and all-around lefty food icon Alice Waters has been instrumental in getting a number of school garden programs started, and the idea is being adopted all over the country. Kids spend a class period every day working in the school gardens, and learning about nutrition, cooking and growing food. They eat the vegetables they cook (for many, their first fresh vegetables) and start broadening their culinary horizons as they find out there’s more out there than just food from a box. Check out Frances Moore Lappé and Anna Lappé’s Hope’s Edge for an in-depth look at school gardens in Berkeley.

-Public cafeterias. This idea doesn’t exist yet (to my knowledge) in the US, where it would probably be denounced as communism– but if this is communism, sign me up. The Lappés also profile this one, which exists in São Paolo, Brazil. The São Paolo government took the radical step of declaring food a basic human right. They then sponsored a cafeteria in the city and stocked it with fresh food from local farmers. It’s pay-what-you-can– those who can’t afford to don’t pay, but the cafeteria’s fresh, tasty food attracts large numbers of people who can and do pay, and it actually makes money. Imagine the possibilities for such a solution in American cities! What if you could take the kids by the neighborhood cafeteria for dinner on a busy night, instead of waiting in the drive-thru line at Burger King?

These are a few solutions. If they’re implemented, they could change many people’s lives for the better- but they’re not going to solve the problem entirely. We need both large-scale social change and small-scale solutions, and we need to start thinking creatively about how to rehabilitate our national diet.

So let’s brainstorm. What kind of solutions do you envision in your neighborhood, in your workplace, in your school? How can we make eating fresh, healthy food a real option for working people? How should we change (or bypass) the food distribution system? If we see more national disasters like Hurricane Katrina, how can we enable communities to feed themselves (since, clearly, we can’t count on FEMA)? What are some ways to help people improve their diets during an economic downturn? Let’s get creative and see what we can come up with. Leave your comments below!