Does Milk "Do a Body Good?"

Note: Part of my motivation in keeping this blog is to serve as a resource for many food and nutrition issues. Some of you know that I am currently in a Masters program in Nutrition and Health Education, that I am studying in a more formal way what I live and research because it fascinates me--and maybe just because I am driven (or is that led?) to it! Anyway, I regularly have to write on various topics concerning nutrition for my program, from formal research papers to creating client handouts. I will begin sharing some of these writings here, so we can all benefit from this work I am doing (and you help me too: I write more clearly with an audience in mind).

Fair warning, gentle reader: I am very opinionated, and my bias will no doubt be obvious. I will try here to provide links for my assertions--and I will include many sources, even (especially?) some that do disagree with my personal viewpoint.
Please let me know if there are topics you would like me to address, and if there are resources you are wanting to find. And tell me if posting these papers helps you in any way . . .

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Is milk "nature's perfect food?" In the USA, we have certainly all been told this many times. But is it true? And which milk are we talking about anyway? This has become a heated issue for some, one that touches on how we feed our most vulnerable citizens, our children (ok, and the rest of us, too). There are now websites on both sides of the issue (see NotMilk for many articles and links against drinking milk, and see RealMilk for argument supporting milk drinking.) There are those who think milk is poison and those who believe it is nectar of the gods . . . I am not sure I can settle the controversy for all, as the food we eat is such a personal decision--and because "milk" is not really one thing. I will try to illuminate what I feel are some major issues.

First, a definition: milk (mlk) n.
1. A whitish liquid containing proteins, fats, lactose, and various vitamins and minerals that is produced by the mammary glands of all mature female mammals after they have given birth and serves as nourishment for their young.
2. The milk of cows, goats, or other animals, used as food by humans.
3. A liquid, such as coconut milk, milkweed sap, plant latex, or various medical emulsions, that is similar to milk in appearance.

Part one hints at one of the foundations of the controversies: Milk's biological purpose is nourishment for the young of a species. Milk, as we generally understand it, is meant as the sole food for mammalian young for a species-specific period of time. Some feel that we humans have no business drinking the milk of other animals, and certainly not past the natural age of weaning of our own species (that--weaning--is a controversy for another day!) On the other hand, many believe that if milk can function as a complete source of nutrients, macro and micro, then it must be an ideal of sorts: "nature's perfect food."

The definition does cover some of the variety we need to address. Most basically in our culture, we are usually referring to mammal milk, especially from cows. Not all cultures depend upon the cow--throughout history, humans have drunk the milks of goats, sheep, water buffalo, horses, reindeer, camels, yak, and others we might find odd or improbable. And we now have commercially available soy, rice, almond, coconut and hemp milks. At home, milks can be made from many nuts and seeds. And yet, are these milks similar in nutritive value? Are they traditional foods? It seems they might not be, though the history is not very clear. Neither is nutritional information on these "alternative" milks easy to come by, perhaps because they are newer (see this link for a comparison of human and some animal milks).

While I was researching this topic I came across numerous comments to the effect that "humans are the only animals that drink the milk of other animals." Curiously, not one of these statements was backed up with a citation. This may be a case of something that we believe to be true because it seems to make sense--but may not actually have science behind it. I did find, on the other hand, accounts and photos of animals being fostered by another species (think Romulus and Remus--but played out in zoos and neighborhoods the world around where babies need a surrogate mama and another willing animal is found). These cases, while isolated, show that animals will do what it takes for survival, and humans drinking other animals' milk may be another example. It seems that humans have been enjoying dairy for at least 8000 years, from archeological evidence in Europe and in the Middle East. There is also evidence of extensive dairying in African history, something that continues today in tribes such as the Maasai. It has been postulated that this was an adaptation humans made in the transition to a more agriculturalist way of life, from a longer history of true hunting and gathering.

So why the controversy, if many humans have adapted over time to milk drinking? Well, being humans, we tend not to leave things as they are. Instead, we create, we innovate. And sometimes we mess with things until they are not at all the same as when they started out. And these altered substances just might not be very healthy. We have done this with the lowly beet, from whence comes that evil, white sugar. We have done this with grains, changing whole grains into things like Twinkies(TM). It may be that this is what we have done with milk, and why there is such confusion and conflicting "evidence." If we are not ingesting the same substance in each study, and if the substance being used in a study is not "the Real Thing" (thanks to CocaCola for their slogan . . .) how can we say it is the real thing causing the trouble? That is, the only real milk is the one straight from the animal (setting aside the issue of plant-based milks, for now) that is eating its natural diet. Anything else is a cultural manipulation.

And yet there are all of these studies that implicate milk in all sorts of illnesses, from cancers to diabetes to heart disease (look at this and this for an overview of some of the health issues that have been associated with milk). Yet what milk was the subject of these studies? Modern commercially produced cow's milk, the kind we buy in supermarkets. And what is commercial milk? Is that all one thing? No, it comes with varying percentages of fat, it might have dried milk added in to thicken it, it is pasteurized and usually homogenized. And it comes from animals raised in confinement, fed grain, cottonseed meal, bakery waste, citrus peel cake, the waste of ethanol production, and so on (see this and this for information on some of these feeding practices). This milk most likely has the residue of antibiotics, hormones and pesticides that were either given directly to the cow or were in the feed the cow ate.

It is true, that milk may indeed be harmful for us all. The studies are there to show problems (see the above links). Many people are indeed sensitive to both the lactose (milk sugar) in the milk and to the casein (milk protein) that is damaged in the pasteurization process. On the other hand, that thing we call milk only bears a visual resemblance to real milk, which comes from cows raised on pasture, and is not treated in any way--just put in clean bottles and consumed locally and in real time, soon after it came from the cow. The milk some are now calling "fresh, unprocessed milk" has all of the nutrition that a cow can glean from grass--its natural food. It has fragile proteins in their natural state. It has many enzymes, including lactase--which helps "digest" lactose, that help our digestion and our health. It has high quality fats, including some EFA's--which carry vital fat soluble vitamins, and these fats naturally separate, allowing us to have cream or butter (or homemade ice-cream, but don't get me going, or I may have to put a recipe in here!)

What of alternative milks? What if we can't drink milk, or don't want to? Are these milks acceptable substitutes for Nature's Perfect Food? It really depends upon what we are looking for in a substitute--an occasional milk-like substance to fill a need in a particular meal (what else goes so well with cookies? and what is a cream soup without cream?) or a daily food, contributing essential major nutrients. If the former is the desire, for sure almond milk or coconut milk would be great--and they are delicious. I have heard that oat sprout milk even tastes much like cow's milk. If we are looking for a nutritional mainstay though, we have to do the same sorts of calculations that vegetarians must do to ensure that complete proteins are being consumed--we have to look at what we would be getting in the cow's milk and try to balance with other foods, or supplements. For example, coconut milk, while full of wonderful fats, including antimicrobial lauric acid (the other main source of this is human milk), has very little calcium, and--especially when diluted to have a similar calorie content as cow's milk--is not a significant source of protein. So, if I wanted to use it regularly as a milk substitute, I would have to make sure that I had other good sources of protein and calcium in my diet, or I could fortify the the milk (as suggested in Eat Fat, Lose Fat) with a calcium source.

Why drink milk at all? In some cultures, it might be the most reliable source of protein and fats (and some carbohydrates--remember this is a "complete" food), especially if there is a religious taboo about the consumption of flesh. In a fascinating interview, anthropologist Marvin Harris goes into great detail not only about the nutritional "choices" made over time, but also about why biological adaptations may have set the stage for varying religious beliefs concerning foods. He also describes why some groups of people are adapted to drinking fresh milk and others to fermented dairy.

Fermented dairy is actually the way most peoples consume "milk." The lactose in the milk is broken down by a culture, making it more digestible, even for those who are not lactose intolerant (see table of sample rates of lactose intolerance by ethnicity.) And, as the pre-refrigeration world discovered, the cultured forms keep instead of spoiling. Each region has a favorite type, ranging from the world's many cheeses, to cultured buttermilk, sour cream, kefir, yoghurt, koumiss (from mare's milk), longfil, piima . . . (See Nourishing Traditions for descriptions and recipes of many types of fermented dairy, as well as further discussion on the consumption of dairy in general.)

Personally, I have experimented with many forms of dairy and dairy alternatives over my life. I enjoy the varied tastes and the qualities of richness and creaminess that dairy can add to food. Like many Americans, I am of mixed ethnicity, though I can trace most of my ancestors to Eastern Europe, where dairy is/was eaten almost exclusively in cultured form. And that is generally what keeps me most healthy, eating yoghurt, kefir, some cheese. I am certain that my forbears did not consume soy or hemp milk. And while they didn't consume coconut either, I do live in Miami and have somewhat adapted to this semi-tropical environment, so I do use coconut milk on occasion, especially when I get fresh, local coconuts.

Choosing a foodway is not something our ancestors had to do. They ate the foods their local environment gave them and they prepared them in the ways of the only culture they knew. We are confronted with many choices about food, and must find a way of navigating the confusion. With milk, as with every other food, we would do well to look to the traditions of the world and to those of our own people for guidance. And then we owe it to ourselves to experiment with an open mind.

Some Further Reading (not exhaustive, but a good start):

Pro Dairy:
RealMilk.com (has a good resource list)
raw-milk-facts.com
WestonAPrice.org
The Untold Story of Milk, Ron Schmid
The Raw Truth About Milk,William Campbell Douglass


Con:
NotMilk.com (also has an extensive resource list)
VeganSociety.com
Don't Drink Your Milk, Frank Oski
Milk A-Z, Robert Cohen

Neutral:
http://www.milkprocon.org/
Good To Eat, Marvin Harris

A Tale of Two (Cities') Restaurants

Two meals out recently have gotten me to thinking about restaurant food.

I am not in the habit of writing restaurant reviews, but since I have finally found some food worth commenting on, I can't pass up the opportunity.

First, some context: the more Rick and I have moved to eating whole, unadulterated, traditional food, the less we eat out. This is because we inevitably come home from a restaurant meal filled with regret and iffy food. It's not only because I have spent years working in restaurants and food service that I feel I could do better for less money. In general, just about anyone could do better for less money. And the usual reason people eat out is to save themselves the trouble of cooking (though they may tell you it's because they just love that ___ Factory just down the street). But for me it's generally enjoyable to cook and I have the time, so that isn't a good motivation to go out. We go out for two reasons: when we travel and on special occasions (because really, who wants to look at the pile of unfolded laundry on a wedding anniversary, even if you love to cook?)

Recently, I went to a conference in Durham, North Carolina. I have never been there and didn't know a thing about the area, so we went on several recommendations and tried a restaurant in walking distance to the hotel. Now, usually I am truly wary of others' recommendations. My taste is very different, my standards admittedly more severe, than most. But this place truly provided everything I look for in a restaurant: food that tastes wonderful but is not overwrought, dishes I generally won't make at home, locally sourced ingredients, good service in a calm neighborhood environment, a willingness to accommodate food sensitivities/preferences. It's a long list, and Piedmont did this so well that I came home sad that we have nothing comparable here in Miami.

I guess if I am going to talk about this, I need to describe my meal: An arugula salad with crisp lardons topped with a perfectly poached egg sporting an almost-orange yolk. Instead of an entree I ordered one of the charcuterie plates, choosing the housemade headcheese with vinegared shallots and grainy mustard. Normally this would be accompanied by toasts, but they happily substituted sliced green apple, which went very well with the rich headcheese. It didn't faze the waiter to make a substitution and he was game to help me figure out what would not just fill the plate, but would also complement the dish I was ordering.

The food was fresh and honest--it remembered where it came from, which was evidently pretty close by. It wasn't ruined by some genius rendition that was trying to transform simple ingredients into something else. For my tastes, the ideal would be if the food might have been cooked by someone's very talented grandparents for a special occasion, even just Sunday Dinner. And Piedmont definitely met that ideal.

Coming home and needing to plan our anniversary dinner, I cast about for a similar unpretentious and equally gifted spot in Miami. I almost despaired because, though I understand it has marvelous food, Michael's is impossible to get into on short notice. Plus, I am kind of a miser, and a meal there might be outstanding, but so would the debt . . .

Literally on the appointed day a friend (thanks so much, C!) came up with a brilliant suggestion, a tiny place in walking distance to our home. Who knew? Whisk is in a little strip mall on Le Jeune Road, north of Ponce De Leon Blvd. has three tables and a huge heart.

It was the perfect choice for us--close, local food, run by a smart and generous brother-and-sister team (love the family thing--makes me feel right at home, without having to do dishes!) Brendan (chef) and Kristin (who does most everything else) dished up a lovely meal, full of bright flavors and allowed us to bring a bottle of wine to celebrate our occasion, along with the other patrons in the intimate space. It was almost as if they had put on a small dinner party for us, as if we were eating at the edge of their lively kitchen.

Kristin is involved with Slow Food Miami, and that aesthetic is evident in the food we enjoyed, the camaraderie, and the unhurried pace of our meal. Rick had the house specialty, Dry Marinated Skirt Steak w/ Caramelized Onions, Gorgonzola & Sliced Avocado Salad. Brendan not only cooked it absolutely perfectly rare, but he also came out to check to be sure he had gotten it right for Rick. I had Spicy Seared Beef w/ Garlic Chili Coconut Sauce, Jasmine Rice & Braised Baby Bok Choy, and just as in Durham, when I asked to substitute something for the starch, I was met with creativity and genuine accommodation (I ended up with beautifully fanned grilled summer squash slices, sweet and smoky, a perfect foil for the sauce). We shared a salad with cheese and nuts, dressed with an able hand--just the kind we love.

I have a sense now that it's not hopeless to want to eat out, that there are some folks trying to do the right thing by food, even in a commercial setting. That we can find a few places here and there that support and express our own approach to food: begin with the best local food, cook it in a way that enhances rather than masks, its loveliness (and nutrition), and present it as if you were serving family on a special occasion--with love and joy.

Now I need to figure out what is the next special occasion on our calendar. There must be one coming up--I am sure of that (do let my husband know if you see him!)

Out of Hibernation . . .

The New Hunter Gatherer has been in a sort of Winter's hibernation. I apologize for the absence, but somehow the rhythms of my life took over and forced a narrowing of focus. Winter has been about family and it's many demands: holiday celebrations (we do Hanukkah and Christmas), illnesses--including two trips to the hospital, and my sister's gala wedding that my children and I got to take part in many ways.

We are just now emerging into our South Florida Spring, which is making it's appearance with a vengeance. We have 80 degree weather almost daily and the mango trees are in full bloomy dress, calling all insects and troubling all allergy sufferers. Even the avocados are blooming--it seems very early. So I suppose I am talking about the seasonality of things today--that our activities and our food can and should be informed by the flow of the natural world around us.

Here, that can be a bit more difficult or subtle, depending on our orientation and sensitivities. The calendar and my ancestry may say that I should be eating heavy stews, as mid-February is serious winter in most places, but when I walk outside the ground is steaming and the air is full of avian courting. This presents a dilemma. My mind wants braises. My body wants to go lighter. This is where my old Macrobiotic training kind of kicks in unbidden: look to the local environment. And interpret it with a heavy dose of modern sensibilities (Macrobiotic teaching was actually a latter day invention based on older traditions--therefore a blueprint of sorts for our own process). I look at traditional foods in similar climates for inspiration during this odd season.

When it rains, I make soup. Never mind that the rain is as warm as my shower. Rain calls for soup, a cup of tea, a book. When I can get away with it while respecting family tastes, I make those soups and stews with an Asian spin. I pull out the coconut milk and Thai curry paste. I use as much seafood as I can get away with (picky kids again). Or I make Indian curries and Mexican posoles. These foods are stews adapted to the heat, perfect for our sunny Winter and steamy Spring. If I am really pressed for time, or if I have a bunch of odds and ends in the fridge that want using, I improvise. I experiment, and some of these experiments have turned into old standby recipes over time.

My friend J. loves my Thai-inspired seafood stew. It took a while to convince her that it is ridiculously easy to make, as long as you have a few things on hand. Actually, it even fits my idea of a "shelf-supper"--one I can make when I don't have much of anything fresh on hand--because it uses the few canned and frozen staples I keep around.

This is what I do (and get ready, because it goes fast): I set some chicken or fish stock to thawing in warm water. I saute an onion, some garlic, some ginger if I have it. I might add other veggies if I have or want them--or want to use them up. Red peppers are pretty, carrots and celery add bulk, greens or frozen peas I add at the end. There are many possibilities. Next I add the stock and a can of coconut milk. I use full-fat coconut milk with no preservatives, and I try to use a brand that has no thickeners as well (hard to find--there is one brand availably locally). If I have no coconut milk, which is rare, I use thinned coconut cream, sometimes marketed as coconut butter. This is NOT the product sold for pina coladas--instead it is made like most nut butters, grinding the meat of the slightly dried coconut with no added ingredients (the other stuff is loaded with sugar).

Ok, so now you have a broth with veggies. Almost done. Set the table, or get someone else to do it--you have to pay attention and throw a salad together too . . . Now you add some frozen seafood. I sometimes use a mix that has no additives--it has shrimp, scallops, octopus, and squid, or I use wild shrimp, which I don't bother to peel, but you might. I actually eat the shells and find the shrimp stays more moist this way--less risk of turning them to leather. All that's left is seasoning while the seafood cooks, which happens very quickly, in mere minutes. Seasonings: some Thai curry paste (red or green, your choice), fish sauce, lemon or lime juice and maybe a smidge of honey. If you have basil or mint (dried or fresh) that lends an authentic air, but I rarely bother. Same with chopped cilantro, scallions or crisply friend shallots--nice additions, but this is supposed to be a painless shelf supper.

That's it. Taste it. Does the balance of salty, spicy, sour and sweet work for you? If not, play with it. Go open a bottle of wine or a an unpasteurized beer, if that's your thing. Or pour a glass of kombucha. Then, sit down to a simple supper with not-so-simple flavors.

I hear you asking about amounts. Sigh. I can't really say exactly, but I will try--for you. For my family, which is usually 5 or 6 at dinner these days, I might use two jars of stock (4-6 cups?), an onion, a cup or more of other veg, a bag of whatever seafood (around a pound) and season to taste. The latter means start with a little an add till you like it. There is no rule about that--it's what you like. If you can't stand fish sauce, use a bit of tamari (but do try the fish sauce at least once, as it is very mild and gives a subtle flavor that soy sauces can't). If you are not fond of spice, go easy on it. And so on.

So today it looks like we're in for rain again. And I am going to visit J. And maybe we'll make soup. Because that's living with the seasons in our neighborhood. And to you I have this suggestion: go enjoy the season, whichever one it happens to be in your neck of the woods! And send me the recipes that come from your kitchen improvisations . . .

LoCoMotion!

We just received our first regular delivery of farm foods yesterday. After months of organizing and much work from Steve, and with some help from others, it was absolutely heartening to see everyone's enthusiasm and support flowing as freely as the pet milk! (By the way, my kitty just adores this milk. Spoiled Rotten, I'd say!) Thanks to all of the early comers who helped unload the truck. Thanks to Sarah for your help in getting the Joash milk. And thanks to all of the farmers who are supplying us with such incredible REAL food! The milk fairly flew out of the coolers, including the extra that Steve was able to bring.

We are all so fortunate, considering how far one has to go in this big state to get this "local" food, that Steve is willing to bring it here for us. He drove to several different farms on Saturday, ending up in the Panhandle at 2am to get the Joash milk. Then he made it here around 1pm on Sunday, after picking up his mom, Josephine (I love seeing her every trip. She makes the kombucha--come try some!). This is a labor of love, and Miami thanks you!

I sealed my fate as a bad (or maybe just very tacky) Jewish Mama by serving my family pastured pork blade steaks from Full Circle Farm for dinner. Thanks to Dennis and his yummy meat, I only had to add a bit of garlic and rosemary (from my friend DeAnna in the Redlands) before they hit the grill. I added a salad from Bee Heaven greens. Are we lucky or what?

At our house we celebrated the conjunction of Hannukah and the arrival of the milk with a chocolate tasting. I had found the incredible Vosges chocolates which we paired with rich milk, also from Dennis (Meow!) Some of the flavors: sea salt/almond, pasilla chili/cinnamon, cardamom/walnut/dried plum, chicory coffee/cocoa nibs, bacon/sea salt . . . Yes, BACON. And wow was that interesting! Not kosher--so sue me--but very cool!

So we are on our way. We are now able to access real food, sourced locally. Most of the food we get is either produced in Florida or sold by small local businesses, like Delicious Organics, that put a lot of care and thought into what they bring from other places (someone has called this shopping "LoCo"). Come join this movement. We sure are eating well!

What I Learned over Thanksgiving Vacation . . .

O.K. Maybe I didn't exactly learn these things from scratch, but I put into use some lessons over these last crazy weeks that I though might be useful to us all. I/we have been away from home under varying circumstances and have been able to eat well and stay healthy throughout. How? Maybe some of my recent experiences will help:

About three weeks ago I went to the Weston A. Price Foundation International conference--which was as incredibly full of information, new tastes, new people, new ideas as I remembered from last year. There was, of course, really wonderful food, provided by small farmers and prepared according to traditional principles. But there were also close to two days of travel--on airplanes and through airports known for lack of anything decent to eat, even for folks less picky about what they put into their bodies than I am. I should add that there is one very good restaurant at Dulles, the airport in Washington that I was using, that has local food and cooks it with more care than anyone has a right to expect in that setting. I did not need to eat there, though, because I take a bit of time to plan my food for such trips.

What I carry on planes: crispy nuts, dried fruit (I think I had persimmons and figs), cubed cheese, sliced salami, an apple (one for each person, if in a group), "baby" carrots, hard boiled eggs, homemade crackers. These are usually things I have on hand at all times at home. If I have them, I might add tangerines or other easy to manage fruit, and any travel-friendly leftovers, such as sliced meat or chicken wings. I don't shy away from a few small containers, because I have found them to be useful for the return trip, to transport things I can gather during my stay. I also pack a few extra zipper storage bags for the return trip, a napkin and an empty water bottle. I have found that I prefer to fill my bottle from a fountain, after going through security, to drinking from commercial plastic bottles. I can't speak to the science of whether plastic particles are worse than chlorine for us, but the plastic tastes much worse to me.

The same week I was in DC, my husband and kids went to a regatta in Naples. They had a kitchen in the hotel, which is a basic necessity for us, though some folks I know travel with a hotplate or other small indoor heat source--some even use hotpots to reheat food cooked at home. I had planned every meal and organized it so that my 13 year old could easily take charge of both packing and cooking the food. I find that's important whether I will be there or not. When we go camping I do the same thing, because I really don't want a lot of leftovers and some meals are easier to make then others when you are without the luxury of a well-equipped kitchen. As a matter of fact, if I am not sure of the motel's equipment, I pack some basics from my camping gear--who wants to get stuck without a corkscrew when you are staring at a nice bottle of wine?

Car trips are a bit different than plane travel, because I can take coolers. I have been known to pack a roast chicken and salad fixings to feed us at a lovely wooded rest area (there are a few of those!) I have taken pate (the recipe I previously posted) and gravlax (I use the recipe from Nourishing Traditions, replacing the Rapadura with honey) that I had on hand, both of which make great lunch and snack foods. I pack more fruit, and I can include things that might have gotten squished in a carry-on under the seat in front of me, like plums, grapes, pears. I plan on more fruit when we travel because the disruption in routines can cause constipation. When I pack a cooler, I use water bottles filled with frozen filtered water for most of the "ice packs," rounding out with gel packs. In a pinch--when we didn't have a freezer to refreeze the gel packs and water bottles, I have filled the water bottles with ice at a motel ice machine, adding water to make packs that will last pretty long and not make a mess of the food. If we are headed to a place where I will be cooking (like a regatta or camping) I will pack the meat frozen, and may even precook some things and freeze them--everything travels better that way, and I don't have to fret about any delays.

The other recent "travel" experience was actually two trips to the emergency room with two different kids. One turned into an overnight stay, so I really did need good food. I think hospital food rivals airplane food for being gross and devoid of nutrition. I am not sure how people are supposed to heal eating such processed, sugary junk, but I didn't have to find out! As soon as I decided to take my son to the ER the day before Thanksgiving (he had signs of appendicitis), I quickly packed a bag with a change of clothes, a book, a sketchbook, my phone charger, and some food. Since I was not sure how long I would be without refrigeration, I used a small insulated lunch box with a gel pack and included hard cheese, crackers, nuts, dried fruit and a jar of frozen chicken stock. I added a china cup (for microwaving, so I don't have to use styrofoam--microwaving is bad enough!) and some tea bags, herb for Ian and black for me. Once he was admitted, he was allowed to order what food he wanted from the hospital's food service. This is an improvement over other systems, and allowed us to chose the most "real" food available: bacon and eggs, a hard boiled egg for me, fresh fruit, grits. Yes, some of these are compromises--I would not normally use commercial bacon or degermed grits, and the grits would be soaked. But, under the circumstances, these were pretty good choices.

Pretty good choices. That's what Rick and I have worked to refine for travel. He travels a lot for business and used to come home with digestive upsets, some of which can last longer than the original trip! He takes nuts and dried fruit, sometimes a piece of fresh fruit, sometimes a can of sardines. Eating out, he has learned to order fish or meat grilled or cooked in butter (if real, he always asks) or olive oil. He gets salad and vegetables without dressings and sauces, unless he can be really sure what is in them. Instead, he asks for olive oil, melted butter, lemon or lime, to season them. Bacon and eggs (boiled, poached or fried, to avoid liquid egg products) and fruit are pretty reliable for breakfast. Using these tactics, he has been able to stay healthy and have some pretty good meals.

Travel is fun for us all, and we love tasting new foods. Still, because of our commitment to eating real foods, and owing to a few sensitivities in some family members, it serves us better to take much of our food and to experience local ingredients from farmers and markets, rather than eat our meals out. This ends up being more economical, healthier, and often has given us connections in a community that we would have otherwise missed. I know it might sound like I do a lot of work, but really the work is in the planning--on the trip itself it is usually stress-free and enjoyable, perhaps even more so than it would be eating icky food in crowded restaurants with a bunch of finicky kids.

The Chicken Harvest

Last Saturday I learned how to harvest a chicken.

I not only learned how, I actually did it, and it wasn't as hard as I imagined it might be--that was all in my head. In reality, even the slaughtering part was very matter-of-fact and simple. Very real. It reminded me of being at a birth. It's not a novel comparison, to equate birth and death, but some might be shocked or offended at my throwing killing an animal into the mix. But when you stop to think about it, killing for food is elemental for humans and animals, it is a part of our DNA, our natural lives. We watch lizards catch insects with no twinges of sadness. We are fascinated with lions eating their prey, looking like our own cats with backyard birds (this is one reason why we watched National Geographic specials, is it not?).

We were a group of ten, gathered at our local CSA on a cool (Miami-style) and glittery Fall day in South Florida. The roosters--noisy boys that they are--needed culling and we lucky ones were about to learn the process of turning bird into dinner. After a few false starts while we discovered just how hard it is to catch a rooster, even in a chicken tractor, we rounded them up into a holding cage. We only needed one demonstration, then we took turns performing each step: slaughter, scald, pluck, butcher, eviscerate. The birds were then washed and iced down. In the end, we had eleven dressed roosters (the extra was raffled off) and a bunch of heads, feet and giblets. I'll do a post on offal another day, but suffice it to say, I ended up with the heads and feet for my stock pot. Though the whole group was very game about the entire project, some things are just very new ideas to us all.

We sat down at a long table out of the sun and shared a light farm lunch. All the while, we traded recipes and stories, enjoying the company and the day. This is the essence of community in the New Millenium: Sharing skills and joys almost lost to the commodification of our food and our whole lives. To do this we have had to create all sorts of intentional groups, such as CSA's and support groups, schools of herbcraft and so on. I am sure that my great-grandmother learned to make gefilte fish from her mother or grandmother, starting with a live carp (for a wonderful children's story about this, see The Carp in the Bathtub,.) We now have to seek out the mentors and fellow travelers that would have been a part of our natural surroundings in our great-grandparents' time.

I do see that we are starting to value anew the richness of the food of the past. And I think that we really do yearn for the family dinners, the holiday gatherings, the kids who follow ours home, drawn by the warmth and the delicious smells coming from our kitchens. We love the ambiance; this is what Martha Stewart has been marketing with a vengeance for years. And we say we want real, that we want whole foods--we even shop at a store of that name.

So why do we have such a hard time owning up to the death inherent in our dinner? This connection may be as important for us to see as the one between the garden and the broccoli. The only folks attempting to educate our kids on this issue are vegan activists, and they see all killing of animals as bad (maybe we need to let them know how many bunnies died during the harvest of their carrots and kale.) Somehow we have lost the respect, the honor, that native peoples had toward their food animals. In refusing to acknowledge the death, we have allowed factory animal operations to take over and do horrible things--to treat the animals without respect. The vegans are right about that part: we should not be eating animals treated as CAFO (confined animal feeding operation) animals are--for the sake of the animals, and for our own health, physical and mental.

Going to a small farm for a chicken-harvesting workshop is not my answer to daily food choices--it was only one bird, after all. Instead, it is a way to respect the animal that would become our dinner, to restore that connection for every chicken going forward. It is a way to see the chicken on the plate as the culmination of a process that is real and tangible. It reaffirms my choice to eat humanely-raised pastured animals, always aware of how they lived.

And slaughtering my own rooster taught that its death is equally full of purpose and integrity.

The Old Salt

People have been asking me about salt. Not about my husband, The Old Salt. But they need to know about salt. Old, traditional salt. Real salt.

Salt. We can't live without it. Yet we have been taught to fear it. Without it, food tastes bland, somehow wrong. With it, food has heightened flavors, and it can be used to make many foods last longer.

People want to know which kind to use, how much to use, and so on. I really don't intend to write a dissertation on salt--the definitive book, Salt: A World History, has been written. But perhaps I can quickly give an orientation to salt and some resources.

Let's start with background: naturally occurring salt is not just sodium chloride. It contains a complex of many trace minerals, which vary depending on the source of the salt. Refined salt is pure sodium chloride, but usually has additives, including dextrose, synthetic iodine, flow agents, even fluoride. These differences, between the natural and the refined, may explain why for many years "experts" have told us that salt consumption is hazardous to our health. The reason we think that salt is unsafe is that studies have been done with refined salt, not the real, complex substance.

Anytime we consume a refined product that is missing key elements, the body has to compensate by drawing on it's stores of those elements--in this case, the missing minerals. This creates an imbalance, and the body--always attempting to reach homeostasis or equilibrium--will do it's best to cope. Eventually, symptoms of deficiency, and then illness, arise. Since salt functions to help regulate fluid in the body, one of the effects of using refined salt can be swelling or edema (showing an imbalance of the fluids between circulation and tissues), and the well-known effect of high blood pressure. For some interesting information on the health issues of salt, see this site.

So we need salt biologically. But really I want to talk about taste, about food. That's why we are here, after all. What salt do I use? Well, I was introduced to the real thing by my daughter who went to France--Brittany, specifically--last year. She lugged home pounds of huge, damp, grey crystals she had seen workers rake out of the salt beds at the edge of the sea. She had lived with a family who kept 25 lb sacks of The Real Thing in the pantry, and large open salt jars on the counter. She told me how this salt went liberally into most every dish, so I learned how to use this strange new substance that bears no resemblance to the stuff that pours when it rains. And I was hooked. It changes the food and it subtlety changes my relationship to the food. I taste, I add a pinch. I wait for it to dissolve, to disperse. I taste again. I am more responsive, more flexible. Measuring means nothing and the taste means everything.

I have used other real salts, and continue to do so. Here, we can buy Celtic Salt, Himalayan Salt and Real Salt. I am sure there are other great brands. The commonality is that these are unrefined salts, as found in nature--either from the sea or mined from the earth. These salts all have color and texture. They are varied and fascinating. Each has a nuanced flavor, a different use. Delicious Organics has a wonderful page exploring different aspects of salt, and they carry many types--a wonderland of choice! Find your favorite everyday salt and put it in a lovely jar on your counter top, to use liberally, to taste. Find some special salts--I noticed two smoked salts I want to try for unusual dishes. You can do the same. Explore and experiment.

As always, what the Hunter-Gatherer in me is looking for is something real, something that resonates with what I hear from the voices of the Grandmothers deep down. Those of my ancestry, of yours, sought out real and delicious foods. And they went to great lengths to get salt, because somehow they knew they could not survive without it. And neither can we.