The real work of planet-saving

Here’s the quote of the day, of the week, and probably of the month. It may even be the quote of our time:

The real work of planet-saving will be small, humble, and humbling, and (insofar as it involves love), pleasing and rewarding. Its jobs will be too many to count, too many to report, too many to be publicly noticed or rewarded, too small to make anyone rich or famous.

- Wendell Berry

Yes, yes, yes, and yes. And hooray for that, hooray for those small, humble, and humbling tasks, done with love, and without recognition or remuneration. Amen.

(the quote comes from Out of Your Car, Off Your Horse, twenty-seven propositions about global thinking and the sustainability of cities, all worth thinking about. You can read them here).

Making your own microwave popcorn couldn’t be easier

Put this down as reason #10,844 why I love the Internets.

Reason #10,843, in case you were wondering, is this phenomenal Skoda ad, where we see a life-size car, complete with engine, headlights, and bucket seats, constructed entirely of cake (and it’s totally real). Reason #10,842 is Jenn’s lovely post, Wild Surmise about why women blog and why it is a beautiful and important thing to do. Reason #10,841 is full episodes of Jon Stewart. Reason #10,840 is that guy who dances all over the world.

And reason #1, by the way, is Etsy.

But back to #10,844. While searching for directions for felting wool — Merrie and I will try our hand at making mittens this winter — I stumbled across directions on Instructables for making microwave popcorn. From scratch.

Making microwave popcorn! Whoa! No carcinogenic PFOA packaging! No lung-damaging diacetyl! No $4/box price tag! No need to depend upon the anachronistic glasses and bowtie of Orville Redenbacher (may he rest in peace, and may they stop raising him from the dead, no, please stop, really) ever again.

You can make your own microwave popcorn. Who knew?

My favorite things: our rice cooker

If I could write a love poem for one item in my kitchen, it might be our rice cooker.

Before I owned a rice cooker, I put this appliance in the category of the rarely-used waffle iron — a good idea that somehow never really just winds up taking up space. However, since we acquired ours several years ago (thanks, Mom!), I sing the praises of this thing with the zeal of a convert. This is a tool that has helped me with many, many dinners. I estimate that we have used it at least three times a week, maybe more these days, since we entered our Greatest Depression bean soup kick.

For a lazy, imprecise, and perpetually-harried cook like myself, the rice cooker is heaven-sent: it is a simple way to provide heaps of warm, fluffy rice, night after night after night. Fill it to the line of your choice, press a button, and forget about it. It requires no more thought than that. There is only one button to press; I cannot go wrong. The rice is never undercooked, and it never burns. This appliance is foolproof. It is beautiful. It is absolutely worthy of many odes of poetry.

I’m thinking about our rice cooker, because two major papers recently did stories about rice cookers. The Washington Post published Who Needs a Rice Cooker? by two skeptical cooks who never understood why this item was necessary.

(Do these authors have children throwing tantrums at their feet? Do they have dogs that beg to be walked right this second lest they poo at the top of the stairs? My guess is no).

Celebrity Food: Ivanka shills for ConAgra, even though she, too, prefers home-cooked

Let’s talk about Ivanka Trump, shall we? You know Ivanka: runway model, Ivy League grad, and #83 on Maxim’s Hot 100 list?  See, Ivanka wants to talk about lunches. Your lunches.

She really wants to “make a difference,” Ivanka does, and she is starting up a national campaign that will “leave you looking forward to savoring your mid-day meal and lunch time minutes”. She even started a blog, blog.ALunchTrade.com, about her efforts. Which all sounds grand, except that in the end, what she’s hawking are single-serve microwavable meals like pasta with red sauce, individually packaged in plastic. They are part of the Healthy Choice line from ConAgra.

Remember ConAgra? They’re the ones behind the massive peanut butter recall, the even more ginormous pot pie recall, and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of recalls of tainted meat. They’re the group that scored the lowest of any food company on a 2006 CERES report on companies’ efforts to tackle global warming (overall, only an oil company and airline scored lower) (PDF). They have been accused of accounting fraud, and bribing inspectors, and being bribed themselves, and discriminatory hiring, and oh yeah, did you hear about the hazardous chemical in their microwavable popcorn? They removed it, but only three years after they started looking into it.

But if you still trust this company to make your lunch, you can purchase a Healthy Choice Fresh Mixer for just $3.49 — a good five times what it would cost to prepare pasta with sauce for yourself. Says Ivanka, my new friend who is genuinely worried about what I eat:

Healthy Choice Fresh Mixers are complete microwavable meals that can be stored in your desk because they require no freezing or refrigeration. Forget the brown bag. I toss these meals in my purse, work tote or briefcase.

Hmm. I’ll just bet you do. Because Ivanka Trump and crappy processed meats go together like…um…E. coli and global warming, maybe? Or perhaps salmonella and bribery? Accounting fraud and discrimination? Hard to say.

Aw, don’t let Ivanka fool you out of the kitchen. Whatever she may eat at lunch, it turns out Ivanka’s favorite meals are actually traditional and homecooked. Just like the rest of us.

Ivanka eats crap.
She hopes you will, too. That’s how
You know she’s your friend.

Carrageenan explained, haiku form

Sure, you’re a sex lube.
(That’s out of the way. Phew.
Let’s move on to food).

Derived from seaweed,
(what could be more natural?)
You thicken. Bind. Gel.

You’re found in puddings,
Ice cream, jams, processed cheeses,
Toothpaste, icing, fro-yo…

And Silk soy creamer,
My preferred coffee creamer.
I sure hope you’re safe.

You come in two forms:
Degraded, Undegraded.
One food-grade, one not.

Most food experts claim
Undegraded’s safe to eat.
No problem, say they!

Degraded? Not so.
Degraded is evil stuff.
Brings GI problems.

Like..say… IBS.
Cancers of the GI tract.
Ulcers, colitis.

It seems simple, then:
“Undegraded is safe!” …But ‘natch,
There’s controversy;

Dr. Tobacman
Points out this sticky wicket:
WE might degrade it.*

Sheesh…our own tummies
Might just turn undegraded
Into degraded.

If this is true…Yikes!
Then the difference means nothing.
Avoid it, she says!

And others’ advice?
Dr. Weil , nature’s M.D.,
Says “best to avoid.”**

Dr. Weil, I must ask:
Would you smother your love bits
In the stuff? (I might.)***

Fit Sugar says “Eat!”
Eden Foods, Toms of Maine: “Fine!”
Dr. Minich: “Sure.”

Eat. Don’t. Eat. Eat. Don’t.
Who can keep up? As for me,
I’m cautious, not freaked.****

For daily Java, though,
I might switch to half-and-half.
I mean…just in case.

(As for the love juice,
it’s “soft, silky, not sticky!“
Beats Astro-Glide, too!

Awww, what can I say?
As I hurtle toward forty,
I’ll keep that in mind).

* Says Dr. Tobacman: “exposure to undegraded as well as to degraded carrageenan was associated with the occurrence of intestinal ulcerations and neoplasms. This association may be attributed to contamination of undegraded carrageenan by components of low molecular weight, spontaneous metabolism of undegraded carrageenan by acid hydrolysis under conditions of normal digestion, or the interactions with intestinal bacteria.

**From Dr. Weil: “Given this new information on carrageenan, I would recommend avoiding regular consumption of products containing it. While some brands of soy milk do contain the additive, others do not. With a little research you should be able to find a product that suits your taste and doesn’t contain carrageenan.”

***Mine, I mean, not his.

****Truthfully, I fell down the Google hole on this one and left feeling no wiser than when I started. All of the “don’t eat it” advice came down to Tobacman’s one (admittedly troubling) literature review. Which is persuasive. But then again, so are the letters in response. In the end, I’m deciding not to swear it off completely, but to try to keep it limited — mostly by trying to stay as unprocessed as possible. Which I was trying to do anyway. Even though it’s hard.

Why we still use plastic in our house…

…in spite of the fact that Mama is a paranoid nut about the leaching, endocrine-disrupting, early-puberty-inducing, obesity-promoting, fertility-limiting power of the stuff:

That would be the Pyrex bowl I recently used to serve Charlotte yogurt. One of the many, many non-plastic items that has broken into a million pieces in my efforts to break our family’s plastic habits. Pyrex is supposedly the toughest, most shatter-proof non-plasticky stuff out there. Oy.

Well, there are always stainless steel dog bowls. I’m considering those next. Not really. Well, maybe.

When Pyrex shatters,
Shards fly remarkably far.
Days later: feet bleed.

In Maine right now with Blair. Escaping small people. First time we’ve done this in years. And years.

And it’s good.

King Corn is one to TiVo

Set up the DVR; King Corn is on PBS this week. Might even be tonight on your local station; check here to find out when it’s showing in your neck of the woods.

The short story behind this film: a couple of cutie-pie Yale grads move to Iowa to plant an acre of corn. As they watch it grow, they learn about American food — what it is, and why it is what it is. The film is more fun than shrill, even if it did tick off the National Corn Growers Association.

Here’s my review, haiku-style:

The story? Not new,
But these fellas make it fresh;
Corn’s king. They’re dumplings.

photo credit: Curt Ellis.

Oh, my peeps…what is it about those Peeps?

Anyone? Can anyone tell me what is it about Peeps that has encouraged people to make table sculptures out of them? Like, say, the likeness of Anna Nicole Smith?

Or to create magnificent dioramas out of them?

Or to recreate great moments in Rock and Roll history from them?

Or to act out (a slightly foul-mouthed) Romeo and Juliet with them?

Or simulate alien invasions with them?

You all know that I’m ordinarily a great fan of the haiku form. But about Peeps? Really?

It all confuses me. As much, honestly, as it amuses me. Perhaps my friend Vikki can explain.

Christ has risen. Sweet Jesus. Happy Easter nonetheless to those of you who celebrate the holiday. And Happy Peep Day to all. Especially, perhaps, Will Ferrell.

A few Friday Haiku for Agribusiness

The secret to happiness? Oh that. I’ll get back there. But I’ve got a few deadlines to meet first. Pesky deadlines.

In the meantime, there’s some news from the Vatican about new mortal sins — genetic engineering, pollution, tolerating poverty, and being obscenely rich among them. With that in mind, I’ve written a couple of haiku for my friends in and around agribusiness.

For Monsanto
Your stock grows…in Hell.
GMOs: they’re a sin now!
Sez who? The pope, dude.

For Smithfield Farms:
Polluter? Why, yes!
Your pig poop: like toxic waste
Say ‘hey’ to Hades!

For Paula Deen:
Smithfield’s drawling shill,
Guilt by association;
Whoops! you’re Hell-bound, too!

For Warren Buffet:
Kraft, Coca Cola
Have made you obscenely rich:
Another sin. Rough.

Back to work. I’ll check in soon.

Laurel’s chard quiche: inspires bad poetry, but tastes really good

So, I’m thinking that this is actually some of the very worst poetry I’ve written, ever, with the possible exception of that period during eighth grade, when the boy I loved started holding hands with Jeanne Limoges. That was some extraordinarily bad poetry. I remember one poem was constructed entirely from words I hadn’t known the meaning of, but which I’d found in the thesaurus. The phrase “witless mirth” featured prominently in that one. Witless mirth. Stupid merriment. You can borrow that for your next bad poem, if you’d like. You’re welcome. In the meantime, some limericks about quiche:

There once was a reader named Laurel
Who sent a tip for chard quiche without quarrel.
Chard thong? Doesn’t wear it.
But her quiche? Oh, prepare it!
Chard’s divine! (once again, that’s my moral)

There once was a quiche made from chard
Whose directions were really not hard:
Veggies, eggs, milk, and cheese,
Mixed with herbs, baked with ease…
You can even add weeds from your yard!*

Really. I’m not being funny:
This quiche was really quite yummy
With no childrens’ teeth gritting,
We gobbled it all in one sitting.
And who was most happy? My tummy!

Many, many thanks to Laurel, whose instructions are below.

Ingredients:
1/2 medium onion
2 cups swiss chard
1/2 yellow squash
1/2 zucchini (sez Laurel: add as much or as little of these veggies as you choose… Sez I: I actually didn’t use squash or zucchini; used broccoli instead, since I had it in the fridge, and the kids eat it happily)
3 eggs
1 1/4 cup milk
1 1/2 cup sharp cheese
1 can diced chilis (oops, didn’t use those either. next time.)
lots of fresh (dried is fine too) dill
fresh thyme if you have it (I didn’t, but I used dried there, too)
salt, pepper

Directions: Steam veggies together (note: Instead of steaming, I sauteed the veggies in a little olive oil until they were ever-so-slightly soft). Mix together eggs, milk, and cheese. Add chilies if you’re using them, plus herbs, salt, and pepper. Add veg to egg mixture, put in pie shell and bake about an hour, in preheated oven, 375 degrees.

Laurel sez: it’s a Lovely and favorite quiche…. You can always add lambsquarter and dandelion as they pop out in your yard to add a wonderful spring flair! * See? It’s true about the weeds. And you thought I was making that up.

Got a recipe based on a favorite veggie? I’m always happy to try something new.