5 second rule

Treasure

 
Five bucks if you can tell me what you're looking at.

Try harder.

Several months ago, my friend Denise sent me a lovely package from her favorite tea shop in Victoria, British Columbia.  The tea was unlike anything I had seen before.  It wasn't bagged or loose-leaved.  Instead, it was pressed into compact, teardrop shaped mounds, and when you poured hot water over them, shazaam!  The little mounds unraveled and swelled to 10 times their original size. 

When I visited Denise this past summer, I went straight to the shop, called Silk Road Tea.  I bought several teas and wished desperately I could justify buying all the pretty accoutrements, too.  (I couldn't.)

I've always preferred tea over coffee, and the older I get, the more I find myself buying into not just the taste but the whole idea of tea.  It's ancient.  It's healthful.  It's, I don't know, poetic.  Maybe because the language of tea is somehow exalted, otherworldly.  Is it just me?

Pictured above is the Golden Treasure tea from Silk Road.  The little tag on the package reads:

A mellow, toasty, warm caramel nature.

Chinese black tea grown at 5900 ft in the misty Simao region of Yunnan Province.

Golden black tea is hand tied to resemble a temple spire, and unfurls into a lush, exotic flower.  This enlivening tea symbolises the inner fulfillment that comes from spiritual pursuits.

Mellow. Toasty. Caramelly.  And who doesn't want inner fulfillment that comes from spiritual pursuits?  I certainly do.

I love this tea.

If you want to learn more about tea and don't know your pu-erh from your red rooibos, please check out this article I just wrote for Culinate.com.

And if you're a coffee drinker, we can still be friends, but I leave you with this: your used coffee grounds will never be as lovely as my unfurled, spent Golden Treasure tea.

Unconventional

photo by ninjapoodles, reprinted under a Creative Commons License

Is a brouhaha really necessary when an organization elects not to serve fried food?  Apparently it is, if you happen to be hosting this summer's Democratic National Convention.  According to ABCNews.com, the Convention's Denver Host Committee released a document for local caterers in May requesting that no fried food be served at the August convention.  Furthermore, vendors were advised  to comply with the host committee's "Lean and Green Criteria" emphasizing fruits and vegetables, local foods (from Colorado), and foods with at least three colors.

At least one Denver Councilman cried foul, referring to the committee as "food control zealots." In addition to fears of added expense, he's apparently worried that omitting fried chicken from the menu might alienate Southern delegates.

Really?  Do we have FryGate on our hands already?  Don't we Americans have other things to fret about than trying to undermine efforts to make a massive political gathering more environmentally-friendly and less artery-clogging?
 
For those of us forced to eat foods of questionable nutritional value at large conferences and conventions for years, I applaud Denver's efforts to turn this trend around.  And I have full faith that our southern brethren will support their party, and their candidate of choice, even if they find roasted carrots instead of fried okra on their donkey-covered plates.

Avocado

According to the Associated Press, the California wildfires have already destroyed $1 million worth of avocados and 200 acres of avocado orchards in Santa Barbara County.  Family and friends on the east coast keep expressing concern about our safety here in San Jose, and the reality is that we're far enough away from what's burning that we're actually fine. 

With evacuations just south of us, homes destroyed, residents displaced and now news of a felled avocado crop, among so much other worldwide trauma, it's time yet again to step back and breathe a sigh of relief that we're okay.  We're so darn lucky.

I know celebrating the avocado will do nothing to solve more global problems, but this is what I do.  At least what I'm doing now.  Do I  wish I could have a larger, more meaningful impact?  Of course.  But then there's this:

I was speaking with an oncologist recently.  "What do you do?" she asked.

"I'm a food writer."

"Wow, that must be a lot of fun!" she said.

"It is, but it's not like I'm curing cancer."

"Well," she said, pausing, "I'm working on curing cancer so that other people can be food writers."

I wanted to kiss her.  Can you imagine someone, who has devoted her life to work of such importance, expressing with such grace the conviction that we all have an important role to play, whatever that may be?

I raise my avocado to this doctor.  May she have a life filled with cured cancer patients, and may we all continue on in our work and our lives, confident in the paths we have chosen.

Beer

I don't often write about alcohol for one simple reason: I'm not an aficionado, and the language of drink doesn't flow through me quite as fluidly as the language of food.  You'll still find me sipping an occasional glass of wine or nursing a weekly beer, but there are other blogs devoted to the finer points of alcohol discernment (try Everyday Wine). Mine isn't one of them.

That said, when I was in Canada recently, I did polish off a few bottles of Sleeman, the brew pictured at left.  Slightly sweet, it went down smooth and easy, with less apparent carbonation (if that's the right word) than its American counterparts.  If Sleeman were available here in California, I'd definitely seek it out.

I've got beer on the mind today after reading this article on caffeinated brews in today's New York Times.  Yes, caffeinated.  Who even knew such a thing existed?

Turns out Anheuser-Busch just agreed to stop selling Tilt, a raspberry-flavored (!) malt beverage containing caffeine and guarana (a natural stimulant).  The company had been accused of marketing the beverage, and another called Spykes (with fruit and chocolate flavors) to minors.  A-B denied the charges.

According to the article, Anheuser-Busch isn't the only maker of caffeine-laced beer.  Sparks, made by the Miller Brewing Company, is another flavored malt beverage (I love the phrase "malt beverage") with caffeine, guarana, and ginseng.  This class of products has acquired the name "alcoholic energy drinks."

(A month ago I wrote about college students mixing energy drinks with alcohol.  Apparently beermakers removed the extra step.)

If you came across an energy drink/beer combo, would it hold any appeal?  Do you think such products should be taken off the market, or simply advertised in ways that encourage their consumption by those well above the legal drinking age?

Commonwealth

 
photo by wallyg, reprinted under a Creative Commons License

I'm a proud former resident of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.  So although I no longer call the Bay State home, I do have politically-connected sources who keep me up-to-date on food-related legislation.  Bear with me while I digress from my usual Cal-centric posts.

On Wednesday, it seems, the Massachusetts House of Representatives voted 114-34 to approve a bill banning artificial trans fats from restaurants throughout the state.  This has already happened in NYC, Philadelphia, and a handful of cities and counties nationwide, including some parts of Massachusetts itself (notably Brookline and Boston).

Unsurprisingly, there's drama afoot.  Critics charge that with this particular bill, the government is overstepping its bounds.  The slur "nanny state" has been leveled, too.

I'm sorry, but I thought protecting the public health was actually one of the government's responsibilities.  And it's not like the jury's out on trans fats.  We know they suck.  Here's a concise explanation of why, brought to you by Dr. Walter Willett of the Harvard School of Public Health and Rep. Peter Koutoujian (D-Mass), sponsor of the bill:

There are three indisputable facts about the hazardous effects of trans fat: It increases "bad" cholesterol while reducing "good" cholesterol; it has no nutritional value; and it is directly linked to an increased risk of heart disease. ...[A]rtificial trans fat causes roughly 50,000 fatal heart attacks per year.

According to Rep. Koutoujian's testimony before the House, many Massachusetts-based  restaurants and chains have already gone trans fat free, including big guns like Legal Seafood, Dunkin' Donuts, Au Bon Pain, and Kelly's Roast Beef.  Massachusetts, in fact, is one of 15 states currently considering a statewide trans fat restaurant ban.

So what's the counterargument?  How can anyone WANT to keep trans fats?

1. Cost.  Opponents claim it will be expensive for restaurants to switch over to healthier oil. 

(Chains that have made the switch claim it has been cost-neutral.)

2. Scope. Opponents claim it's silly to go after restaurants rather than, say, every food producer or grocery store in the state.

(You've got to start somewhere.)

3. The role of government.  This is the big issue.  Rep. Jeffrey Perry (R-Mass.) argued that we can't logically ban trans fats since we don't, say, ban everything that's bad for us: cigarettes, sodium, alcohol.  He argued that this bill is simply outside the scope of what government can and should be doing for the people.

(I do see a logical conundrum, but I still think this is what government is for.)

We're all friends here, right?  What do you think?

Is this where we're headed?

  

photo by ewen and donabel, reprinted under a Creative Commons License

The front page of today's New York Times features an article on the use of sucrose in Similac Organic baby formula:

Parents may be buying it because they believe organic is healthier, but babies may have a reason of their own for preferring Similac Organic: it is significantly sweeter than other formulas.  It is the only major brand of organic formula that is sweetened with cane sugar, or sucrose, which is much sweeter than sugars used in other formulas.

So there are several interesting issues raised here:

1. Many people continue to equate the term "organic" with "healthy" even though "organic" simply means that a food contains ingredients grown without the use of certain pesticides or herbicides.  (Let's not forget that you can buy organic junk food.)  Organics may be better for the earth, but that doesn't mean that every organic product is necessarily the most nutritious choice.  If I had the ability to draw a Venn diagram here to underscore my point, I would. 

2.  Sugar is sugar is sugar, right?  Well, not necessarily.  As the debate over high fructose corn syrup continues to rage, experts differ in their beliefs over how various sugars (HFCS, sucrose, lactose, fructose) affect the body.  I choose to avoid HFCS. If I were bottle-feeding an infant, I'd now have to decide whether to avoid a sucrose-sweetened formula as well.

3.  Is there an element of corporate greed here?   Organic sucrose costs Similac's makers less than the organic lactose used by its competitors.  (Lactose is also thought to better approximate breast milk.)  Economists (you know who you are), please weigh in on the subject of corporate responsibility versus improving the bottom line.

4.  The article also points out that a taste for sweet is established very young. When taken to its logical extreme, drinking a super-sweetened formula may encourage children both to overeat in infancy and to continue preferring sweeter foods once they're weaned. 

5.  The EU has decided to ban sucrose-sweetened formulas by the end of next year.  The EU, in fact, bans many things that the FDA has traditionally considered safe (like genetically modified foods).

Where do you stand?

On second thought, better make that a triple.

photo by colros, reprinted under a Creative Commons License

Legislation is rolling out across our vast land like a runaway donut, and it's bumping people in its path. If you live in New York or any one of a dozen major U.S. cities (including Philadelphia, Chicago, Seattle), ordinances either have or will soon be passed that require fast food restaurants to post calorie counts next to every item on their menus.  So you may soon learn, for example, that a Starbucks blueberry muffin sports 410 calories and a Quiznos Large Tuna Melt has more than 1,350.

In response, there's been fussing both from obvious and less obvious corners.  On the one hand, the New York State Restaurant Association fought to strike down the ordinance, emphasizing the undue burden it would place on restaurants.  (As it is, only restaurants with more than 15 chains nationwide fall under the ordinance; the rest are exempt.) Others complain that the "nutrition police" have gone way too far this time, and that if they want to down a 530 calorie Peanut Butter Moo'd from Jamba Juice after working out, then, dammit, they should be allowed to.

As I see it, there are pluses and minuses to the issue.  On the plus side, transparency is always better than obscurity, whether you're talking warning labels on cigarettes, ratings on movies, or calories in a superburrito. People who want to take the information they're given and apply it to their decision-making matrices can do so, and those who choose to ignore it can do that, too. 

But it's a little more complicated.  Calories are but one measure of a food's health profile, and by listing calories to the exclusion of, say, fat grams, or calcium content, or even sodium, you're holding calories up as the end-all, be-all measure of a food's worth.  A diet soda has fewer calories than a cup of skim milk, but that doesn't make it the healthier choice.

Now I'm certainly not suggesting that we crowd menus with copious amounts of nutritional information.  That would be ludicrous, not to mention impractical.  But it is important to realize that the calorie isn't king.  It's but one player in a complex dietary chess game.

Yes, Johnny, have another ding dong. Apparently it's good for you.

photo by James at 42, reprinted under a creative commons license

The Times of London just ran an article with this genius headline: “Too much healthy eating is as bad for children as too much junk.” Pardon? You mean the whole wheat bread I feed my kids is actually harming them? What’s tomorrow’s headline going to say – death by quinoa?

According to the article (which you can read here), some British children are suffering from “muesli belt malnutrition” defined as “the overzealous application of ‘healthy eating’ rules imposed on their daily food intake.” It goes on to say, “A recent study warns us that too much fibre and too little fat can lead to vitamin deficiencies and stunts growth in the under-fives.”

Now, I’m not sure a U.S. media source could get away with quoting “a recent study” without telling us who conducted it and, even more important, who commissioned it. Maybe Cadbury Schweppes funded the research. Maybe a pissed off four-year-old did. Seems relevant, though, no?

And for the record, I don't take issue with the crux of the story, which suggests that children shouldn't eat high-fiber foods like whole grains, fruits, and vegetables to the exclusion of dairy, fish, eggs, and meat. But most reasonable parents already understand the concept of a balanced diet. (Reasonable vegetarian parents, of course, balance their kids' diets with higher fat foods like nuts and seeds and protein-rich offerings like beans, pulses, and tofu.) 

But equating whole wheat and leafy greens with Ding Dongs and Bugles?  Please.

Soda Gets Popped

photo by kpishdadi, reprinted under a creative commons license

WITH a new year screeching round the bend, it's time to identify—and then ruthlessly vilify—a new enemy in our sick national food supply. Carbs? Been there. Transfats? They're so 2007. This will be the year of—wait for it-—the ubiquitous, cornsweetened, carbonated beverage. Early last week, San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom proposed a new "fee" (not a "tax," mind you) on big-box retailers and chain stores selling sodas laden with high fructose corn syrup (HFCS). Except for diet drinks, seltzer and a few organic, fizzy alternatives, this pretty much means all the big name brands. The money from the fee would be earmarked for the city's anti-obesity initiatives.

The backlash set in within hours. Posters to the San Francisco Chronicle's online readers' platform jumped on the proposal, calling it a slippery slope and imagining what would come next. One poster suggested a tax on hair gel "so [Mayor] Gavin Newsom can contribute to scalp health." Another proposed taxing "Super Burritos full of cheese, red meat and sour cream." My favorite, though, was this gem: "Great tax proposal. But it will drive people to buy soda from San Mateo." Imagine the backup on 101 South.

But what about those who love high fructose corn syrup -- who revel in its diabetes-promoting, insulin-spiking glory? Don't they have rights, too? After all, according to the Corn Refiners Association: Corn sweeteners benefit consumers "by reducing food spoilage, retaining moisture in foods, helping canned foods taste fresher, enhancing fruit and spice flavors and prolonging product freshness. Among many other benefits, high fructose corn syrup... makes bran cereal palatable." You know you're in trouble when bran cereal's palatability is your product's major selling point.

Granted, Mayor Newsom's strategy is a dangerous, one-size-fits-all approach to the complex obesity problem, and it's not without flaws. But I do give him props for taking a stand and at least trying to float a creative solution. We've known about soda's influence on the nation's collective weight gain for years and it's nice that someone is willing to step up and address it. At least he's getting people talking.

Ultimately, though, the best way to forge a national, or even citywide, consensus may not be to propose an arbitrary fee on a single food group, especially when HFCS is so deeply ingrained in the American food supply. If you're going to tax (I mean, place a fee) on soda, you'll also have to tax ketchup, salad dressing and bread since most nonorganic brands list HFCS on their labels. Taxing big stores that sell soda is too simpleminded solution to too complex a problem.

Stealth Health

photo by thefemgeek, reprinted under a creative commons license

MANY OF US are sick and tired of being told what to eat. We're educated enough to understand that saturated and trans fats are harmful, that whole grains are beneficial and that we should be eating fruits and vegetables by the truckload—or at least in far greater quantities than we're doing now.

But when we dine out, it's tough to find dishes that fulfill these directives that we actually crave. Either we order the "healthy" items and feel deprived, or we indulge in the standard fare that's probably not very good for us. This dichotomy can drive an adventurous but health-conscious eater insane. Why do we have to choose between what's good for us and what tastes good when eating out?

Recently a group of seemingly diverse but like-minded professionals gathered in Napa to address this very question and to offer some hope. At the third annual Worlds of Healthy Flavors retreat at the Culinary Institute of America (CIA), top nutrition scientists from the Harvard School of Public Health met with corporate chefs of several major restaurant chains and volume food-service companies to discuss this disconnect.

The scientists provided sobering data on soaring rates of obesity, cardiac disease and Type 2 diabetes but also provided insight into how we can reverse these trends using food that's readily available. Culinary experts from the CIA as well as foodie icons like Rick Bayless and Mollie Katzen were on hand to demonstrate how chefs who serve thousands of meals daily (we're not talking independent restaurants here, but major national chains, hotels, and colleges and universities) can rethink traditional meals to make them bold and exciting while improving their health profile enormously—all without making a big show of how much healthier the food is because we still equate healthy with tasteless and boring. The group termed this new approach "stealth health." In other words, if people don't know the new menu choices are better for them, they're actually more likely to enjoy the food—so long as it tastes great. And that's the key.

So how do you do this? Simple: restaurants that subscribe to this philosophy won't remove menu items that people love, but will provide more exciting choices with improved flavor profiles to tempt us in other directions. Corporate chefs and menu designers will begin to think about flavor first, borrowing techniques and ingredients from other cultures that make standard fare sing with fewer of the bad things (unhealthy oils, excess carbs, refined sugars) and more of the good (healthy oils, produce and whole grains). No one's going to complain so long as the food boasts knockout flavors and satisfies our need to feel indulged when we eat out.

Now I'm sure there are naysayers out there who will complain that it's nobody's job to keep you healthy but you, and if you want to keep downing your bacon double cheeseburgers and Big Gulps you should be able to—and you will. But there may soon come a day when the rest of us will be able to eat out—on the road, at an airport, in a hotel—without feeling that every choice on the menu is either a heart attack in waiting or a depressing "healthy" meal that tastes like crap.