T.K. Danovich has worked in the restaurant industry of Brooklyn and Manhattan for the past three years. Between navigating the subways and trying to make the large city feel like home, she tries to make sense of the surprisingly complicated experience of eating...
Seattle has always been my favorite city in the United States. It has all those music, art, and literary venues that make living in an urban area worthwhile without having so many of them that, like New York, I feel overwhelmed by choices. If you can't see everything, may as well just stay home.
But you can get culture in a lot of places. What you can't so easily find is a city that's pretty enough to keep you living there for more than just the job opportunities. An hour or so away you have the Olympic mountains, the islands and whale watching of the Puget Sound, and soon you'll even be able to go berry picking within the boundaries of Seattle itself.
If all goes well, the project known as the Beacon Food Forest will expand to cover all of an empty seven-acre plot. The current plan for the full "Forest" includes an orchard, nut grove, edible arboretum, kids area, and community garden plots available to interested hobbyists.
Cost of production aside (just the initial two-acres are being funded with $100,000 of donated money), few neighborhoods have ever been harmed by the addition of a park, much less one with free food. Reading the comments sections of many articles about this food forest shows a clear division: either you are an idealist who believes in this project and that the "free for all" system will be maintained in a respectful manner, or you believe this fairytale project run by a group of people out of touch with reality is a giant waste of time.
As the first trees won't be planted until October, it's a bit premature to decide which side will win out. However, the complaints missing from various forums are almost as telling as those that keep being repeated. No one has disputed, or even brought up, the fact that a local food source like this (if it works) would be a benefit to the community and climate. In calling it a utopian fantasy, no one has said they would be unhappy to have a free-for-all of food near their homes. While some have pointed out that they'd like to see a project like this in a low-income community before one that was better off, none have said that good, nutritious, and fresh food isn't a priority.
On a large scale, the first project that came to mind when I heard of Beacon Hill's plans were the urban agriculture plots opening up around Detroit. In the case of the former auto-city, I don't recall that the idea of replacing urban decay with farmland was ever referred to as fantasy. In fact, the urban farms started primarily as a financial move: the government could consolidate residential areas and thus save municipal funds by essentially roping off parts of the city; likewise, having apartments and houses available would create greater scarcity and help raise value of both businesses and homes.
In Seattle, no one is talking about razing low-income complexes to build a playground for the rich. If a few people take more fruit than they should, it won't mean this entire project was a failure. The Beacon Hill Food Forest is to be built on a swath of land that was previously owned by Seattle Public Utility, sucking up private funds for maintenance costs on land no one was using anyway.
Barring gross misuse of donated funds or natural disaster, this is the prediction I make for this "utopian dream:"
-It will raise the value of surrounding apartments and houses
-It will provide another public outdoor recreational area
-It will give a lot of people the joy of leisurely picking fruit and eating it in a public park, or it will give a few people the thrill of sneaking off with too many apples and berries. Then maybe these thieves will go home to make a pie.
While resources like CSAs and Greenmarkets abound in a place like New Yorkif you're like most people, you don't have the space or gardening expertise for a garden of your own. I'm lucky if I can keep non-succulent varieties of greenery alive longer than a few weeks after purchasing them. God forbid I'd attempt to grow tomatoes.
So when I came across this Swedish company called Plantagon who is proposing to build the skyscraper of greenhouses, making fresh, local, produce a possibility on a scale of acreage I was both confused by its shiny exterior and excited at the thought that this thing might actually be put to use.
Above is just one of the possible designs for the Plantagon. It's a beautiful building. Though ground broke for the first greenhouse on February 9th in Linköping, Sweden, it feels like too much of a Jetsons phenomenon to be true. If normal farms (whether organic or conventional) are struggling to make a living, how will a building like this which needs not only the same growing materials as a normal farm but even more technology to build a fully-functioning agricultural dome, ever be financially possible?
There's a lot of talk about environmental sustainability but not nearly so much attention paid to economic sustainability. People have proposed some lovely utopian ideas to solve the woes of industrial agricultureeating only grassfed, local beef, converting only to organic, non-GMO producebut while we in the United States may have a surplus of food, many people in the world have neither the growing conditions nor the distribution systems in place to make this a reality. Even Norway, that bastion of socialized paradise, has to import almost half of everything they eat.
According to a powerpoint about the Plantagon, one of the vertical greenhouses built in Singapore (a plan the company seems to have farther down the line) will cost 56 million Swedish Kroner or about 8.4 million USD. Though they expect the costs to pay off in 4.8 years, powerpoints have been known to be optimistic.
Though the idea itself is still incredible in the way that all feats of architecture are (no matter how impractical), the only problem it solvesgetting local produce into the citiesis really not such a problem at all. If they really wanted to revamp an urban area, why not spend $8.4 million converting every single unused rooftop into a garden, if not a full-out farm? Isn't that really the better use of space?
The Plantagon won't help our overall world food supply become any more sustainable nor will it bring better food into the hands of people who aren't or can't buy it. But, if it does get built, it will at least look pretty cool.
So it's been exactly one year and two days since the last post. In the time since I've been e-gone, I have been busy with these things:
-Going to Norway for seven weeks
-Learning Norwegian
-Internship at Scribner
-Finishing my undergraduate thesis
-Finishing my undergraduate degree
-Starting aerial acrobatic classes
-Reading Scribner's about-to-be-released The American Way of Eating
-Becoming angry enough about the food system to remember why I started Eighty Sixed in the first place.
Through a series of bullet-points, you have the reason for my return. Though I've been intending to write this new-first post for a while, I've been having trouble finding the perfect topic to start off with (procrastinating probably enters into the equation too). After resubscribing to my foodie RSS feeds and scouring the internet for the perfect story, it was a commercial that finally led me back here to blogspot.
This Chipotle commercial, aired during the recent Grammy's, has been getting a lot of press for the way it depicts both factory farming and their commitment to "Food With Integrity".
While I'm more than pleased by the idea that a fast food restaurant is striving toward (and publicizing) sustainability and humane practices, I was a little wary of the PR-speak of not only their website but much of the press surrounding this article. A major news network ran an article with a quote from a spokesman who claimed, "all of the meat we serve is naturally raised." Even Chipotle's own website says that this statement is untrue.
If you took the time to read Chipotle's 2010 annual report, you'd know that in the 2nd quarter, naturally raised chicken was "no longer being served in certain markets...as a result of ongoing supply challenges" and that only 80% of their restaurants served naturally raised steak. Though the commercial focuses on returning to the agrarian ideal of a farm, Chipotle "generally [does] not purchase raw materials directly from farmers or other suppliers, but have selected and approved all of the suppliers from whom ingredients are purchased for our restaurants."
The 2011 report is about the same. "Continuing to serve naturally raised meats in all of our restaurants is one of our primary goals, but we have and will continue to face challenges in doing so. Some of our restaurants served conventionally raised chicken or steak for much of 2011, a few markets reverted to conventionally raised beef in early 2012, and more of our restaurants may periodically serve conventionally raised meats in the future due to supply constraints."
Yet, I doubt that any of Chipotle's restaurants are taking down their "naturally raised" signs when they revert to using 5, 20, or 100% conventionally raised meats. Unfortunately, this term is all advertisingmuch like the factory-farmed eggs with a photo of a free-range paradise on the label. There is no "natural" or "humane" certification. So while Chipotle's Food With Integrity program asks for antibiotic and hormone-free, vegetarian fed, humanely handled meats, it's up to them to decide whether and how often to supply it to the consumer.
None of this is to say that, in the midst of other fast food giants, Chipotle isn't taking steps in a good direction. Simply that we should remember that flashy or sentimental advertising is just another PR statement put out by a company who wants you to buy their products; not the whole story. Frankly, with all the talk this ad generated, I'm surprised no one else is feeling a little skeptical.
I want to give this chain a nod of approval for what they're trying to do. I'd also like to commemorate the fact that humane and sustainable practices are such selling point that they can make revenue climb from 1,835,922 to 2,269,548 between 2010 and 2011. But that any changes like this, no matter how incomplete or opaque, can make us excited enough to forget to ask further questions is a sad commentary on the way the fast food industry is currently being run.
If you've ever wanted to know why grilled cheese is made with those yellow Kraft singles or what the deal is with those huge English Breakfasts, it's the place for you.
Every two weeks, we'll be giving you new takes on classic foods and little bit of background information to pass onto the dinner guests you'll be inspired to invite over after reading.
Some of my best friends are vegans or vegetarians or those pescatarians-who-can't-go-without-eating-fish-because-yum-it's-so-good. It might make it hard to pick a restaurant but, ultimately, I'm happy that they've made that choice. I don't ever think that the entire world will stop eating animal products. But with a lot of people being too poor to buy free-range, organic meat, I like to think that those vegetarians and vegans among us are helping to level out the playing field.
Even though books like Four Fish: The Future of the Last Wild Food have taught me all too much about how awful our oceans are, I'll admit to eating sushi on occasion. I'll admit that on a very small student's budget in NYC, I sometimes want to throw some meat into my diet without paying $20 a pound. Maybe it's worse that I make those choices with the knowledge of potential consequences. But, again, there are a lot of times that I choose not to for the same reasons.
That whole concept of keeping things "equalized" again.
I like seeing restaurants trying to get as much milage out of their food as possible—making dog treats, using all the organs and fats that most diners would usually push aside. So when I came across these bags from Williamsburg's Marlow and Sons restaurant, I was both impressed and (perhaps) a little bit weirded out.
In addition to making food as edible as possible, they're making it wearable as well. According to an article in the NY Post, some of the same local and grass-fed pigs and cows served in the restaurant have their hides tanned and turned into bags for select customers to buy for $300-400.
Leather bags are nothing new so why does it feel so strange to put all that talk of sustainable eating into your wardrobe? The pioneers would have done it.
I think that while we can talk about wanting "happy chickens" and "slowly grazing cattle" that it's still uncomfortable to actually be confronted by the fact that your meal was made possible only through the death of something else. While a burger may only last for a few hours (a leather bag for years), it's beef not Bessie.
By using the whole animal, we are reminding ourselves that there is a whole animal there to use. Reminding ourselves of what our eating choices actually mean may not turn us all vegan, but it will probably keep us making better decisions just a little bit more often. It's not a solution but it's more than a start.
In the last few weeks there have been far too many days when I couldn't keep my eyes open. Not because of tiredness but from some mysterious pain that no one could figure out. This meant hours spent sitting in my arm chair by the window not reading but with an ice pack on my face. During this time, I realized just how much I rely on sight.
Of course sight is a good thing for getting from point A to point B, for paying for purchases, or picking out groceries at the store but it's more than that. If I could keep only one of my senses, it would be sight. I'm a bit lost without it. No reading or writing, no movies...any of those things that fill all of my time except for sleep and the rare social visit.
Reading David Foster Wallace on a cold day
So it made me wonder about the other senses. Though I love food, I would chuck aside taste in favor of sight any day. Is it possible that the meal in front of me wasn't as important as I thought after all? For those people who live and breathe music and just the sounds heard while walking, would they give up being able to feel the difference between a wall and a person to keep it?
Few people will end up realizing what it's like to lose an entire way of interacting with the world around them. It would be even rarer (except in a movie type "your ears or your eyes" situation) to be given an actual choice. But maybe it's worth thinking about.
A year ago, if someone asked me to pick the sense that was most important to me, sight would not have been at the top of the list. Those special pleasures in life—a steaming bowl of soup or a long cuddle—stand out because they aren't things I can enjoy every day. The activities of writing and reading and watching are constants.
This may be a post not entirely about food but, if you think food matters to you, take the time to really wonder what you'd give up to keep your sense of taste and smell.
Because that person is the one who should have their own Food Network show, not someone who gets their pleasure from seeing themselves on television. I want that person to write a cookbook and put so much into it that I'll actually use it for more than the photographs. I want that person to serve me a hot bowl of soup because, thankfully, I can still thoroughly enjoy all five of my senses.
Perhaps some of you have also heard of this very delicious stuff called Meatwater. It comes in such delicious flavors as beef stroganoff, texas BBQ, cheese burger, and peking duck among others. There's even a contest to come up with your own flavor! Of course, yes, it is odd that Meatwater's packaging bears such a close resemblance to the dreaded, flavorless VitaminWater (Why not just take vitamins? Is that really so hard?). Of course there's also the other caveat that Meatwater isn't all that real to begin with either.
Meatwater was an art project created by New York photographer Till Krautkramer who—if you can extrapolate artistic intent from Meatwater's FAQ—wanted to raise awareness for water conservation, a culture overly obsessed with saving time, and consumerism in general. Sounds like a lot. But the fascinating thing about this project was just how plausible Meatwater was as a product.
Though blogs are starting to come out with the sad news that, no, you can't drink liquified meat from a bottle anytime soon, anyone who's ever been to the frozen food aisle or, better yet, The Fancy Food Show should know that stranger products exist than these. (Bacon-flavored ice cream, anyone?)
There are also such strange frozen products as Microwavable Pork Rinds, frozen sushi, pickle pops, and (if you're in Germany) Obama Fingers! Meatwater is no Bonsai Kitten—who can honestly blame us for not being able to tell the difference between real and fake foods?
Flavored water isn't exactly anything new either. There are brands like Hint, Aquafina Splash, and VitaminWater that can be found in virtually any grocery store ever. For whatever reason, buying a bottle of water isn't eco-conscious anymore but flavored water has remained okay. Personally, my favorite of all the flavored waters is a brand called Ayela's that costs entirely too much and tastes too good to use in anything but a wonderful summer gin cocktail. But I would never buy a bottle and carry it with me to sip on during the day.
I honestly can't put it better than Krautkramer, "Anyone can do anything they want with a water product. You can sell any liquid as long as it doesn't kill somebody. It's all a matter of taste whether anyone will buy. In fact, it could taste terrible and people would buy the water if it they think that something that tastes god-awful is something more 'real.' Astronauts drink reprocessed urine. Space programs need to reduce water weight in space crafts. We aspire higher."
Well thanks for looking out for us, guys. I'd be the first to say we need all the help we can get.