Employee Josh Bumgarner puts a Non-GMO Certified tag on a shelf at BriarPatch Co-op Natural Foods Community Market in Grass Valley.
Submitted photo by Mellisa Hannum
Growing concern about food safety has sparked conversation at the local natural food cooperative about unlabeled ingredients that may be in some packaged and processed foods.
BriarPatch Community Market in Grass Valley remains committed to providing shoppers with all available information about products sold at the store.
BriarPatch has labeled all independently tested food items that are verified by the Non-GMO Project, a nonprofit group that tests foods for genetically modified ingredients.
“BriarPatch supports people’s right to know what is in the food they eat,” said General Manager Chris Maher. “We’re committed to sharing all we know so our shoppers can make educated decisions about which products are right for them and their families.”
Genetically modified or genetically engineered organisms are created through the gene-splicing techniques of biotechnology. This relatively new science allows DNA from one species to be injected into the DNA of another species, creating combinations of plant, animal, bacteria and virus genes that could not occur in nature or through traditional crossbreeding methods.
For example, a flounder gene could be spliced into a strawberry gene, creating a strawberry more resistant to frigid temperatures.
Much food has GMOs
The proliferation of GE crops is a concern to many who prefer to eat organic and natural foods. In 2009, the U.S. Department of Agriculture estimated that 93 percent of soy, 93 percent of cotton and 86 percent of corn crops in the United States are grown from genetically engineered seed.
More than 90 percent of canola grown in the U.S. and Canada is estimated to be genetically modified, according to an article in Scientific American.
Some commercially produced varieties of sugar beets, alfalfa, squash and Hawaiian papaya also are modified, according to the USDA.
As a result, it is estimated that genetically modified ingredients are now present in more than 80 percent of packaged products in the average retail grocery store, according to the Non-GMO Project. (A study from Colorado State University estimated 60 percent to 70 percent of processed food in grocery stores contains a least one genetically engineered ingredient.)
The U.S. has no mandatory GMO labeling requirement. Foods containing genetically modified ingredients are not identified in any way, making it impossible for consumers to choose products based on GMO content.
The Non-GMO Project’s seal for verified products provides the public the only opportunity to make informed choices when it comes to GMOs in certain foods.
Foods certified as organic may not be grown using genetically modified seed; however, organic foods are not tested after production.
Voluntary testing
The Non-GMO Project is an initiative of the organic and natural product industry in the United States and Canada to create a standardized definition of non-GMO and a third-party verification program to assess product compliance with this standard.
The project’s product verification program is entirely voluntary, and participants are companies that see the value of offering customers a verified non-GMO choice.
Many of the individuals and businesses leading the way with the project are the same folks responsible for creating the original organic standards.
BriarPatch Co-op Market is utilizing the Non-GMO Project list of 2,500 tested and verified products to label items which have been voluntarily tested and meet the rigorous requirements for verification.
These products are now easily identifiable by the “Non-GMO Project Verified” label on product shelves at BriarPatch.
While consumers might be concerned about genetically modified food in the marketplace, for many foods, no genetically modified versions are available, Maher said.
“Much of what you consume on a regular basis couldn’t be a GMO. For example, bulk pinto beans couldn’t be GMOs as there is, to date, no GMO pinto bean,” Maher said.
“As the community’s leading natural food market … we support people’s right to make their own purchasing decisions based on product knowledge, which we will do our very best to provide.”
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Stephanie Mandel is the marketing manager at BriarPatch Co-op Natural Foods Community Market in Grass Valley. She can be reached at 530-272-5333 ext.
Organic Pastures raw colostrum, milk and cream, as well as kefir, butter and cheese is available at BriarPatch Co-op at 290 Sierra College Dr, Ste A in Grass Valley.
Photo for The Union by John Hart
Nerves are raw among local food advocates one week after a packed Grass Valley showing of the film, “Farmageddon” and a swat team-style government raid on Rawesome Foods, a private health food club selling raw milk in Southern California.
Already a new local committee has loosely formed calling themselves, “Nevada County Local Food Freedom” made up of physicians, farmers, businessmen and Weston A. Price Foundation leaders who, despite political differences, agree that everyone deserves the right to choose what they eat.
A draft resolution is in the works, outlining a community desire for freedom to purchase food for health and keep government intervention out of the local food system.
After creating a “buzz,” a second showing of “Farmaggedon,” a film documenting government raids and harassment of small farms across the country, is already tentatively scheduled for August 24 at a bigger venue, the Veteran’s Memorial Auditorium in Grass Valley with room enough to seat 1,000 people.
Community members and local politicians are invited to “talk about solutions,” said Cathe` Fish, Gold Country Chapter Leader of the Weston A. Price Foundation.
Farmageddon on the ground
Last Thursday’s raid in Venice, involved the arrest of three people: James Stewart, Rawesome club organizer, farmer Sharon Palmer and Victoria Bloch, a Weston A. Price chapter leader.
“This was the Farmaggedon on the ground,” said Mark McAfee, founder and owner of Organic Pastures, the largest raw milk retailer in the state. McAfee spoke at the Grass Valley showing of “Farmaggedon” and attended a rally of 150 people and court house proceedings in Los Angeles after the Rawesome raid.
You-tube videos captured a scene not unlike a drug bust of federal, state and county agencies as they swarmed the members-only food-buying club. Armed with guns and handcuffs agents dumped out gallons of raw milk, loaded up organic produce onto pallets and confiscated raw cheese and yogurt.
Swat team-style raids are nothing new, said local chiropractor Dale Jacobson citing a year and a half-long government sting on a Pennsylvania Amish farmer for selling fresh milk across state lines. He regularly prescribes raw milk, yogurt and kefir to his patients.
Jacobson points the blame squarely at government affiliations with corporate agriculture giants like Monsanto and believes corporate dairies feel threatened by ma and pa raw milk producers who are slowly eating away at profit margins.
As public awareness peaks with publicized raids, typically sales of raw milk spike, too, McAfee said.
“This is a tremendous opportunity. In order for a movement you have to have an event. This is a galvanizing event,” McAfee said.
A question raised by the incident is whether or not private agreements like those arranged through the food club are subject to the same kind of scrutiny that large corporate retail operations undergo.
“This is a big interpretive lawsuit. This is about scaring people. … It’s about food control,” McAfee said.
Representatives from the California Department of Food and Agriculture say it all boils down to the law, and that permits and licenses are required when food changes hands.
“To them, we’re just bullies kicking down doors and arresting people,” said Corey Pruitt, office technician for the California Department of Food and Agriculture, (CDFA), Sacramento office who says it is the state agency’s job to protect people.
“No one’s saying you can’t. What we’re saying is you have to have a license to do so,” Pruitt said.
For small farmers with only a few cows or goats, licensing and inspection is costly, and doesn’t make practical economic sense.
“That’s why people are saying cow shares are the way to go,” McAfee said, who spends millions of dollars to legitimately sell his raw milk products on grocers’ shelves.
Cow shares are an arrangement that allows several people to “own a cow” and in return get fresh, raw milk. In recent months, cow sharing has come under fire.
A woman from Shingle Springs who started a cow share with 15 other people is challenging a cease and desist order by CDFA and is getting support from her county supervisors.
“I’d much rather buy from my neighbor”
Pasteurization, a process of heating milk to kill disease-causing germs, became popular in the early 1900s as a method to prevent bacteria carrying disease such as tuberculosis in small children, according to the Centers for Disease Control.
Raw milk supporters say small grass-based dairies and a sanitary environment is key to keeping out pathogens while protecting nutrients found in milk’s raw state.
They point to studies that show people are more likely to get sick from other foods.
Some point to the level of risk with all foods, and the growing rate of incidence of food-born illnesses associated with mass-produced conventional food items on grocer’s shelves, including the recent Cargill Inc. recall of 36 million pounds of ground turkey that sickened 79 people with salmonella poisoning.
“I’d much rather buy from my neighbor,” said local attorney Gregg Lien, a fan of local food for years.
Raw milk and other raw foods have gained popularity in the last decade. At least five local physicians prescribe raw milk to their patients and thousands of people drink raw milk in the county, said Fish.
Organic Pastures sales grow by 15 to 20 percent each year, McAfee said. Briarpatch Co-op in Grass Valley is consistently the number one and two biggest sellers of Organic Pastures milk in the state along with a San Francisco market, McAfee said. Twice a week, the co-op gets deliveries of hundreds of gallons of fresh raw milk to waiting customers.
“It’s a pretty popular item, one of our best sellers,” said Michelle Peregoy, perishable foods manager for Briarpatch. In the 11 years she has worked at the store, she has never had an instance of someone becoming ill from drinking raw milk.
Last week, the store sold 221 half gallons and 60 quarts of milk and 50 pints of cream. The store also sells colostrums, kefir, butter and cheese.
Some people with lactose intolerance who can’t stomach pasteurized milk say they can digest raw cow and goat milk. Mothers of children with allergies and asthma have claimed symptoms disappeared after switching to raw milk.
Since she began drinking raw milk products 10 months ago, Terry Lewis, a receptionist at Jacobson Chiropractic says she is cured of the irritable bowel syndrome that plagued her for 20 years. She says pasteurization, even of organic milk, kills the “good bugs” or beneficial bacteria that her body’s intestines need to function properly.
“I don’t appreciate the government telling me what I can and can’t eat – especially if it’s milk from a cow,” Lewis said.
Instead, people should be allowed to feed their families the healthiest, purest foods available without government intervention, Jacobson said.
“It’s like freedom of religion. It’s ridiculous to even have to deal with it.”
Laura Brown is a freelance writer who lives in Grass Valley. Contact her at 530-401-4877 or laurabrown323@comcast.net.
http://womenofgreen.com/2011/08/backyard-agrarian%E2%80%99s-30-days-without-packaged-food/16 Aug 2011
Liz Brown Morgan is a wilderness guide, turned environmentalist, turned water lawyer, turned tax lawyer turned Agrarian Revolutionary. Liz is the founder of Backyard Agrarian through which she writes about the requisite Agrarian Revolution and the Landscape Imperative needed to save ourselves – from ourselves. Liz is a yogi, a wild gardener, a telemark skier, a rafter, an eco-entrepreneur and a community activist. She lives in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains just outside of Boulder, Colorado.
On the cusp of spring, here in the high mountains of Colorado, I found myself embroiled in the weekly battle that my husband typically oversees: Recycling. I was appalled. We are environmentalists. We eat organic food. We buy local. We do, what we thought, was our best to eat and live responsibly given the constraints of the culture that we live in. But here I was, up against that unspoken behemoth of wastefulness: food packaging.
I decided then and there to embark on a 30-day adventure without packaged food. I convinced my husband to join me, cleaned out the cupboards, grabbed some tote bags and Tupperware, and headed to the farmers markets, the grocery stores and whatever farm stands I could find.
One of the rules was that plastic bags were banned. Instead, I had to bring my own containers from home and shop in the bulk and bakery sections. I discovered that you can bring your containers to the cashier at Whole Foods and have them weighed. They will write the tare weight on the container and then at checkout, you will not be charged for the weight of the container. I proudly filled my pre-weighed containers with meats from the meat counter and oils and sauces from the bulk section. I also brought smaller produce bags for fruits and veggies, fresh bakes loaves of bread, coffee, rice, beans and dried fruits. The trick is, making sure you bring enough bags and containers!
At times, I found it difficult to be out and about and not be able to stop by and pick up a grocery store sushi in a disposable clam-shell, or a drink or some snack. I probably lost a little weight the first week, but finally figured out how to plan and shop and cook ahead of time.
What I realized is that we live in luxurious times. Everything is accessible, and yet, in the midst of the toxic packaged lifestyle, we forget what real luxury is. This little experience was not only pretty easy, given how available organic and local unpackaged food is today, it was also entirely luxurious. I felt nourished, not only from the daily juicer, but from participating in a way of life that felt more real, less destructive, more rejuvenative.
On Day-30, I have to ask myself, would I rather TALK about sustainability, or would I rather LIVE it? I have to wonder, is it possible to be green, truly green, and still be part of society – and if not, which would I choose?
I’ve never wanted to be an outsider – to live super green, but wholly outside of the culture that I was raised in. I like people. I like pop culture. I like being part of the zeitgeist, of the pulse of things. I like art, and politics, and vacations, and playing outside, and having friends and hanging out, and taking showers, and wearing cute clothes, and eating out.
Even so, it sickens me to see the disposable culture that has been built up around our lives. There is massive debate around the issue of what sustainability means. When I define sustainability, I don’t necessarily see it as me being personally responsible for meeting all of my needs – although, sometimes, I do. I think a better approach is to allow sustainability to take on a community meaning – a reliance on other trustworthy people and business to care for each others health and needs. Sustainability in this way, is not about each person or family living in recluse and being responsible for all of its own food, shelter and other needs. Rather, sustainability is about living in a culture that provides for the health and stability of the people and at the same time rejuvenates the planet’s natural systems. Whereas during the last 30-days, I have felt somewhat outside of things, living in a CULTURE and community is the key.
Our current cultural and food systems systematically destroy both the health of the people and the earth’s ecosystems. This is fundamentally where the problem resides: In the cultural view of the human role on earth.
As a Backyard Agrarian, I want to live in a culture that is not so destructive and in which I can live and find healthy choices wherever I look. I don’t want to have to live my life shunning the culture and practices around me. I want instead, for the society, the farming practices, the manufacturing practices, the building norms, and the habits of the people, to rise up to meet me and to meet all of the other people who are trying day-by-day-by-day to live more ecologically appropriate, healthy, happy lives that at the same time help improve the planet upon which we were born and on which we rely for every facet of life from beauty to sustenance.
I guess what I want is for the culture to shift away from the blind destruction, and towards an understanding that we are big. That we humans are big – together – our culture has a massive impact on this precious world, and our experience in it. I want our culture to recognize that when we poison our food growing in the fields, when we spend our free time battling traffic, we are living in a culture that doesn’t have to be this way – that can be better. I want our culture to recognize that when we go on a weekend getaway to somewhere beautiful, but we spend the weekend drinking out of plastic cups and gratuitously burning gasoline in recreational vehicles, we are ruining that very world we are trying to appreciate.
The truth is, we are so deeply into this toxic manufacturing culture, that it is difficult to avoid it. Even going 30-days without packaged foods, I cooked my food with coal-powered electricity. I drove to the store or the farms to buy the unpackaged food in my car fueled by oil that has caused climate change and other horrors like the destruction of the Niger Delta and a decade of war in the Middle East.
So, after 30-days of avoiding packaged food, here’s what to have to say: I don’t want to do it alone. It’s no fun to do it alone, and also, it won’t work if only some of us hippies and hipster foodies do it just us. I 100% support stopping by that organic farm stand and supporting that step towards the transformation – towards local sustainable food systems. As more of us do it, we will see more options, but farmland is expensive and developers will pay a high price for it – so how far can this really take us?
They say the American Dream is dead, that we will no longer live better lives than our parents, that kids will grow up sicker than their parents and make less money. The health implications are devastating, but there’s an opening here. If the white picket fence 1950s consumer model of the American Dream is dead, maybe it’s time to develop a new one – A New American Dream where we don’t value growth at all costs, where instead we value the things that really matter.
Like the resurgence of Bossa Nova music, maybe we will get a little classier, get a little more in tune with what the world is asking and begging of us. Maybe after so much time on the convenience bandwagon, perhaps we can use that free time to see more clearly, to look into the world and see what needs to be done. Maybe all convenience all the time, isn’t really the way. Maybe we pick and choose. Maybe I carry containers with me wherever I go and use them for take-out. Maybe I participate in modern society – but tweek it a little. Maybe our public policies could have some rational vision for a future that involves continued life on planet earth, rather than hand-outs to the biggest most destructive companies that have ever existed.
After 30-days of no packaged food, I have realized that I can do a lot better in my own personal habits. I can personally have a much improved impact. I have also realized that I don’t want to give up all of the benefits of civilization. That said, the culture of my home has been transformed. I predict this experiment will live on and we will continue to buy whatever we can buy without packaging. We both look forward to more meals out, more snacks away from home, more bottles of wine or cans of beer, but the rules have changed. There’s no doubt about that, and in this culture where anything and everything goes, the guy with the biggest toys wins, and all that, I think some self-imposed rules to bring about and maintain some level of sanity and rational behavior, some rules of engagement with this world, some redefining of possibility, some narrowing of choice, some rules that say, “This is how I live” are certainly a good thing.
Janet Jensen of the Food Bank of Nevada County checks the growth of beans at the Food Bank’s organic garden on Railroad Avenue in Grass Valley.
Photo for The Union by John Hart
It was Ellen Persa who first came up with the idea. While volunteering one day at the Food Bank of Nevada County, she happened to glance over at the dusty, steep vacant lot just across the street. Without hesitation, Persa made her way down Railroad Avenue and walked through the doors of Gold-N-Green Equipment Rentals, the business that owns the lot.
“I just thought I’d ask them if they’d be open to us putting a food bank garden on that open space,” Persa said. “Not only did they say yes, they got their big equipment out there and cleared the blackberries, terraced the land, dug trenches and got us hooked up to water. I can’t even calculate how much that would have cost us if we’d had to bring in someone. It was just amazing.”
With dozers, trenchers and excavators all part of his inventory, Gold-N-Green owner John Olson said he had fun doing it.
“I enjoy running equipment, and I love gardening,” he said. “We all put our heads together and figured out what would work up there. The best part is knowing it will help feed people.”
That was four months ago. Since then, the lot has been transformed into the Food Bank’s Healthy Harvest Project, a lush, 130-by-60-foot organic garden, filled mostly with raised beds boasting leafy greens, squash, zucchini, tomatoes and more. Thanks to an anonymous $5,000 seed grant and an outpouring of community donations, the garden has begun to produce food. A team of knowledgeable volunteer gardeners regularly come by and work in the hot sun. They do it because they know it’s important, Persa said.
According to the Food Bank’s statistics, hunger is a reality for one in six Americans and is not necessarily confined to specific geographical regions. Many seniors and families in areas like Nevada County are simply not able to cover basic expenses and regularly go without food.
In 2009, The Food Bank of Nevada County served an average of 1,470 people every month. In 2010, the average increased to 1,600, with numbers still on the rise. Last summer, they gave out 7,293 lunches to needy children throughout the county.
When food is available to low-income families, chances are their regular meals won’t include fresh fruits and vegetables. And that’s not just because food banks are not always able to store and distribute large amounts of nonperishable foods. For needy families, fresh greens are simply not a priority if the goal is to serve a filling meal.
“If you’re a Hamburger Helper family, you probably aren’t going to include a side of veggies,” Persa said. “You only want to know how much you can get on the table for a low cost.”
According to the Food Research and Action Center, or FRAC, a national nonprofit organization focusing on eradicating hunger and undernutrition, there is a host of reasons why low-income families often don’t get the needed nutrients that fresh produce provides. For one, healthy food can be expensive. In order to stave off hunger, families often turn to “energy-dense, nutrient poor foods — like fast food — at relatively low prices.”
While inexpensive and filling, foods with added sugar, fat and refined grains generally have a lower nutritional value and often contribute to an overconsumption of empty calories. That’s why the Healthy Harvest Project is so important, said Persa, whose goal for the garden is to eventually grow 75 to 80 percent of the produce needed for the Food Bank.
With continued community support and volunteer labor, Persa just may make her goal.
“There are only about five of us working here day-to-day,” she said. “We can always use more help. But I must say, I’m overwhelmed by how well it’s going.”
To contact Staff Writer Cory Fisher, e-mail cfisher@theunion.com or call 530-477-4203.
At some times more home movie than documentary, “The Real Dirt on Farmer John” is so captivating, the viewer becomes part of the story.
Farmer John is different from the average Midwestern farmer — but in a very good way. He’s passionate and creative, unflinching and trailblazing. Following the tale of a young man in charge of a large farm, continuing through his self-discovery as a college student, and finishing with his losses and rebirth, the viewer rides along on the undulations of a life experienced to the utmost.
At times so beautiful and heart wrenching the tears will freely flow, “The Real Dirt on Farmer John” is one of those films that shouldn’t be missed. “Farmer John” plays on Friday, March 4 at 7:00 p.m. in the BriarPatch Community Room. The complete film schedule is available on BriarPatch’s website.
By Brent Cunningham and Jane Black From The Washington Post – http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2010/11/26/AR2010112603494.html
Saturday, November 27, 2010
If you shelled out $10 a pound for a “heritage turkey” this Thanksgiving, tea-brined it and stuffed it with rosemary bread (that you made), speck (from the local charcuterie guy), fennel (from the farmers market) and lemon (okay, there are limits to this), you might assume that everyone, if given the opportunity, would support such a makeover of a meal that not long ago was dominated by frozen Butterballs and jellied cranberry sauce.
In fact, not everyone would. And that is an important thing to understand about the effort to remake America’s food culture. Advocates of fresh, local and sustainably raised food say it is healthier, better-tasting and morally sound. If everyone could afford that heritage turkey and had a local charcuterie guy, the argument goes, then all Thanksgiving meals would be elevated to ethereal heights.
But many in this country who have access to good food and can afford it simply don’t think it’s important. To them, food has become a front in America’s culture wars, and the crusade against fast and processed food is an obsession of “elites,” not “real Americans.”
Consider these shots from leading conservative voices in just the past month: Rush Limbaugh, responding to the report of a Kansas State nutrition professor who says he lost 27 pounds eating mainly Twinkies, said: “I know liberals lie, and if Michelle Obama’s gonna be out there ripping into ‘food deserts’ and saying, ‘This is why people are fat,’ I know it’s not true.” Sarah Palin took cookies to a Pennsylvania school to register her disapproval of policies that forbid sweets. Glenn Beck suggested that food-safety legislation was a government plot to raise the prices for beef and chicken and thereby turn us all into vegetarians.
Both sides in this gustatory dust-up understand just how dangerous it is to tell people how to eat. The right’s cultural warriors see an opportunity to turn the complicated issue of food into a class-war weapon – and to make nice with the fast-food industry, which has donated generously to the GOP. They are banking on the fact that over the past 60 years, the American way of eating has moved from small farms and home-cooked meals to industrial production and drive-throughs. The Golden Arches long ago replaced Mom’s apple pie as a symbol of the all-American meal. Thus, “Don’t let them take away your Big Mac!” becomes a rallying cry.
This transformation has been sold to us as progress, though not without consequences: Obesity-related diseases cost $150 billion annually.
Proponents of a more progressive food system – liberals mostly – have sought to avoid a paternalistic tone, too. They have focused on systemic failures that prevent families from making healthier choices. Michelle Obama’s “Let’s Move” initiative, which aims to end childhood obesity within a generation, addresses access (Is fresh food available?) and affordability (Can poor and working-class families afford to buy it?). When reformers talk about personal decisions, they are mostly urging people of means to “vote with their forks” by consuming from places such as farmers markets and Whole Foods.
Access and affordability are indeed problems. But the sense on the right that this is fundamentally a culture issue is also correct, even if its message is wrongheaded.
We moved this month to Huntington, W.Va. – the town where celebrity chef Jamie Oliver set a reality TV show about healthy eating this year – to research a book about efforts to change the way the city eats. Like most U.S. communities, Huntington is dominated by fast and processed food. Still, finding affordable, fresh and even local food there has not been as hard as we expected. We have found plenty of organic produce at the supermarket. We’ve bought local eggs, buffalo meat and un-homogenized milk in glass bottles.
So far, we’ve prepared nearly all our meals at home and are averaging about $100 a week on groceries. That breaks down to $2.38 per meal, per person, though it doesn’t include the gas and time it took to run down leads on food sources.
In other words, access to and the cost of “elite” food isn’t beyond the budgets of many, perhaps most, Americans. Our meals cost less than the “Shrimpzilla” deal at the fast-food joint Captain D’s – $4.99 for 30 fried shrimp and two sides – or the $2.59 McDonald’s McRib (plus tax).
Those who would reform the U.S. food system need to address the question of values that Limbaugh, Palin and others criticize as elitist. They need to consider the role that socioeconomics plays in determining those values and how to begin to change them. They have to make the case for why eating well matters at the local level, and that case will vary by community. In the Huntington area, residents spend $1.25 billion annually on food, but little of it stays in the region. Local food as economic development is a more persuasive argument in places where good jobs are scarce than is the do-the-right-thing mantra that echoes from both coasts. Good food is also at least part of the solution to the region’s health crisis: high rates of obesity, heart disease and diabetes.
For the good-food revolution to have a chance, people have to make finding and preparing fresh food a priority at a time when everything about our modern food system urges us not to bother. And that won’t happen if people think healthy food is an elitist plot to take away their McRib.
Brent Cunningham is managing editor of the Columbia Journalism Review. Jane Black is a former Post staff writer. They are writing a book on Huntington, W.Va.’s efforts to change its food culture.
(Nov. 4, 2010) At the Slow Food International convention in Turin, Italy last weekend, I joined food lovers from around the world as they perused a vast indoor market stocked with some of the tastiest morsels to be coaxed from the land anywhere. Samples were flowing in the great hall, dubbed Salone del Gusto (Salon of Taste). Rows of stalls filled the 324,000-square-foot exhibition space, offering delicacies like prosciutto from acorn-fed pigs, bread baked on maple leaves, blue-tinged Persian salt, brewed beans gathered from the wild coffee forests of Ethiopia, Sicilian spleen sandwiches and countless other gastronomic treasures.
As wine glasses were swirled and sniffed and the souls of 10,000 stinky cheeses were searched, a foodie encounter of a different sort was taking place in the building next door. There, 6,400 farmers, fishermen, cooks, food activists, teachers and students from 161 countries were engaged in three days of intense dialog. This was the other half of the Slow Food convention, called Terra Madre, Italian for “Mother Earth.”
Although the participants at Terra Madre came from dramatically different contexts, the common ground they shared was solid. Each is working on his or her own piece of a larger puzzle: How to save the landscapes and cultures that produce the kind of delicacies so savored across the way at the Salone del Gusto.
In addition to talking shop on a variety of issues related to food production, Terra Madre participants gave presentations to their colleagues on many subjects. One, on the importance of the moringa tree in Kenya, might not seem relevant to, say, the Amazonian Guarani tribal members in attendance. But the Guarani’s Juçara tree, which produces palm hearts and açaí, fills a similarly central role in their culture, and faces analogous threats from environmental destruction. Other presentations covered topics like sustainable seafood, seed patents and farming in arid climates.
Slow Food began in 1986 when Carlo Petrini, a journalist, staged a successful protest against plans to build a McDonald’s on the Spanish Steps of Rome. Since then, the movement has turned into an organization that’s been through many transformations, and is currently working to shed its image as a pleasure-based club of a privileged few with the time and means to linger for hours at the dining table.
“I’m sick of masturbatory gourmets, people who smell a glass of Bordeaux for half an hour and speak divinely, as if they are priests, ‘Oh, it has the wonderful smell of horse sweat,’” Petrini emphasized at a press conference during the 2008 Slow Food convention. He started Terra Madre in 2004 to help bring Slow Food in line with its mission of supporting food that’s “good, clean, and fair.”
Terra Madre can be chaotic, and at times difficult to grasp. One journalist I met complained that he wasn’t learning anything he didn’t already know. I wondered if he already knew how to prepare a wedding feast from moringa leaves. I suggested to him that Terra Madre isn’t for food journalists. It’s for people with hard, dirty hands. It’s a place for them to meet and share ideas for solutions to the obstacles they face in trying to produce good food on healthy land.
Unlike the Salone del Gusto, Terra Madre wasn’t open to the public. The participants were selected via an application process, and those chosen as delegates had their expenses paid by Slow Food.
“Terra Madre is a moment when people can realize that they’re not alone. It profoundly changes how people live their lives afterwards,” said Josh Viertel, president of Slow Food USA.
One morning, Viertel led an energetic gathering of more than 700 delegates from the U.S., and in that packed room the stereotypical Slow Food image of leisurely indulgence was nowhere to be found. What you found instead were people on a mission. One of the many resolutions agreed upon was that each chapter of Slow Food USA would partner with a chapter in Africa, with the first priority to do what they could to help their African counterparts grow gardens.
Invoking the pace of Slow Food’s mascot, the snail, Viertel reminded the group that, “It’s only taken 60 years to screw up our food system. If it takes another 60 years to fix it, that’s OK.” Petrini spoke next, emphasizing transformation, whereby old ideas that still work can be maintained, as preferable to revolution, where the good is sometimes tossed out with the bad. Nonetheless, the revolutionary spirit in the room was palpable. There was chanting, clapping, and stomping, and the energy recalled that of other social movements.
The civil rights, anti-war, labor or feminist movements would not have been what they were without the input and passion of younger generations, and the same is true with Slow Food. One subgroup at Terra Madre, called Youth Food, was the most energetic. A mentoring workshop was arranged in which elders of the sustainable farming movement were paired with aspiring farmers. The discussions included topics like how to buy land on a farmer’s income, how to develop relationships with chefs, how to run a good CSA, how to set up a proper bee hive and protect basil from the wind. Already, farmers in their early twenties are doing things like creating a program in South Africa that’s trained thousands of teenagers in organic farming and establishing a honey industry in Southern Brazil to provide economic incentive to save the local catinga forest. Hearing about this kind of activity was inspiring to the other youth — and to the elders as well.
At Youth Food’s final meeting Petrini told the group, “food and food culture [has] become an expression of power … [It has] become a rediscovery of people’s relationship with the landscape… We’re not just talking about food and agriculture, we’re talking about spirituality.”
The excitement generated, the information exchanged, and the networking that transpired at Terra Madre all conspired to invigorate a community that’s driven to create real change. The snail may still be the Slow Food mascot, but I left Terra Madre believing that what happened there could expedite the pace of real change in the food systems of the world.
Sustainability: How will agribusiness marketing redefine the term?
Posted by Lisa on October 21, 2010
from: http://www.fooddemocracynow.org/blog/2010/oct/21/sustainability-wil-marketing-define-the-terms/
By Lisa Stokke
Today many of us face challenges of sourcing food grown sustainably and organically, that is mindful of the wage paid to farmers growing the food, as well as of the footprint on the soil, water and air. While some are fortunate to know the individual farmers who grow their food and therefore the agricultural practices used, most of us are not and as a result we must depend upon confusing labeling, and the “story” behind the label of where our food comes from, which often times is prettier than reality.
Deciphering where our food comes from and whether or not it was grown according to our personal values and standards is often times like walking through a minefield in the grocery store, reading and interpreting labels, companies and production practices. And, since there is no label or acknowledged criteria for “sustainable”, it leaves the term vulnerable and open to wide interpretation.
As if this weren’t enough, a new challenge has arisen with recent interest in “sustainability” by large corporations with notorious “un”-sustainable practices, presenting its own challenges to individuals and families striving to source the best food, all things considered.
Corporations such as Monsanto, PepsiCo and most recently Walmart have recognized this market opportunity, and have made the move from hopeful self-promotion to a dangerous co-opting of the term “sustainable agriculture”, threatening a public uninformed of the complexities of a bio-diverse agricultural system required to make the gold standard claim of “sustainable”.
Responses to this trend have been varied, most likely dependent upon one’s individual outlook, be it pessimism, optimism or unabashed skepticism regarding the growing corporate paradigm within agriculture in the U.S. today.
While some have applauded these efforts, recognizing them as validation and success that large corporate entities are promoting these ideals, making local and sustainable food more available, creating markets for midsized farmers, others are rightfully skeptical. Obviously, there is some truth in the possibility of expanding markets for family farmers, but the real concern is how much gets lost (and compromised) in the corporate shuffle?
Among environmental, food and sustainable ag activists, scrutiny over corporate agribusiness’s move into the once considered sacred realm of sustainable agriculture stem from consideration of issues such as genetically modified organisms (GMOs), pesticide use, soil degradation, water pollution, farmer income and land security, all a part of which form the larger conversation of what sustainable agriculture is and lead concerned food activists shaking their head with doubt over every new announcement from giant agribusiness monopolies or fast food joints announcing their latest “sustainability” venture.
One thing is for certain, the attention to sustainability by giant corporations indicates that the awareness by the larger public has reached a critical mass. It would seem that on some level, Big Food is having it’s come-to-Jesus-moment by realizing that achieving sustainable living arrangements on this planet most definitely do not, and will not, include large soft drink companies, fast food restaurants, big box stores, and manufacturers of genetically modified seeds.
So, what’s a CEO and marketing department to do when their very existence is threatened by the changing tide of public awareness? Change the narrative – and the terms of the narrowly defined argument.
I can’t help but think of the popular TV show “Mad Men” as it lends some insight – even if superficial – into the overtly deceptive practice of advertising for cigarette companies, with little or no consideration of adverse health risks, even in the face of mounting evidence. The show, in its own clever fashion pulls the viewer into the often times perverse and slippery world of advertising execs in the 1960s through the life worthy of National Enquirer attention of its lead character, Don Draper, an unjustly handsome, clever, and womanizing “ad man”. Though it is eye candy, it offers the public an understanding of corporate manipulation and public disregard through advertising.
As you may have guessed, this skeptic remains… well, skeptical.
April Reese, an employee at Grass Valley’s A to Z Supply, demonstrates the steps to canning food Thursday. Reese is a Certified Master Food Preserver and will offer classes on canning at The Union’s Fall Home & Harvest Festival at the Nevada County Fairgrounds Saturday and Sunday.
Photo for The Union by John Hart
Chance to win
Win a mountain bike from The Union at the home and harvest show.
Tickets will be available at The Union booth, or from representatives walking around the fairgrounds, for a $5 donation, or five tickets for a $20 donation.
The bicycle was donated by Tour of Nevada City Bicycle Shop, valued at $500, and money from the donations will go to Newspapers in Education, which supports Nevada County Schools. The winner will be announced in Monday’s newspaper.
Long a pursuit of past generations, canning food is experiencing a resurgence in Nevada County.
As families turn to growing fruits and veggies in home gardens again, preserving that home-grown fare is taking on more importance.
“There are a lot of younger people getting back into it,” said April Reese, who works in the nursery at Grass Valley’s A to Z supply.
Reese is offering a class on canning this weekend at The Union’s 8th annual Fall Home and Harvest Festival at the Nevada County Fairgrounds. Reese, certified through the University of California, Davis, as a Master Food Preserver, has been canning for about 12 years.
“My husband was raised off a garden, so that’s sort of how I got into it,” Reese said. “I think people are getting into it because if you’re going to grow it, you’ve got to preserve it.”
Lyn Muth, who works with Reese, marveled at a pair of recent visitors to a canning workshop at the store.
“We had two girls in their mid-20s in here oohing and ahhing over the canning supplies in here,” Muth said. “Normally you’d think they’d only get that excited about shopping for clothes or something like that.”
Area residents are canning everything from apple butter to vinegars, fruits like lemons and peaches, lavender and tomatoes, Reese said.
“People like doing it because you know where it came from and you know how you canned it,” Reese said. “There are foods people don’t want to buy in the store when it’s out-of-season because they don’t know where it came from.”
Reese practices pressure-canning, heating foods in boiled water and placing them into waiting cans freshly pulled from simmering water. Back to the water they go for about 40 minutes until the can seals shut, Reese said.
At that point, they are set aside to cool for 12 to 24 hours before going onto the shelf.
Inexperienced canners frequently have a problem getting their cans to seal, one of the skills Reese plans to review this weekend, she said.
“At that point you’ve either got to make a new seal or put them into the fridge and eat it,” she said.
The Home and Harvest Festival is set to feature a number of do-it-yourself explanations in the Back to Basics exhibit including a homemade soap-making course and a beekeeping demonstration.
Reese is set to teach her course on Saturday at 2 p.m. and Sunday at 11:45 a.m.
To contact Staff Writer Kyle Magin, e-mail kmagin@theunion.com or call (530) 477-4239.
Some people ask me (namely representatives from the Corn Refiners Association), why do I have such a vendetta against high fructose corn syrup? Are my claims accurate? Is my blanket dismissal even fair? Well, at this point, I feel less of an antipathy against the highly processed golden syrup than I once did, and more of a staunch dismissiveness to the idea of it. I reserve any disdain, or dislike for those who, instead of focusing on making a better product (or at least owning up to its many drawbacks) take on increasingly evasive, elaborate and cynical measures to repackage said product and sell it back to the unwitting consumer.
Case in point: the seeming phoenix-like, PR savvy, rebirth of “corn sugar” out of the treacle-like ashes of the popularly maligned high fructose corn syrup (HFCS). At this point, the people have spoken. HFCS, while still widely consumed (The average American ate 35.7 pounds of high fructose corn syrup last year, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture. That’s down 21 percent from 45.4 pounds from ten years before.), is not exactly a well-received additive in our food supply. Consumers have become aware of the ubiquity of the sweetener, as well as its potential impact on the health of those who consume it, and they don’t like it. Manufacturers (some, not all) have listened and have smartly removed it from their products. Gatorade, Sara Lee, Snapple and Hunt’s Ketchup all dumped HFCS in the last year and switched over to the devil you know, sugar. So now, with the country all abuzz over the evils of HFCS, what is a corn refiner to do? Jump ship and start refining sugar? Improve the existing product to the extent that it no longer presents the same health concerns that helped to demonize it in the first place? Or just re-brand the product and claim it is indistinguishable from sugar in everyway?
Get ready for Corn Sugar. As I reported back in May, the Corn Refiners Association had petitioned the Food and Drug Administration to allow a name change to the simpler, less-chemical-y “corn syrup.” The FDA gave the petition the thumbs up, but (no surprise here) after an objection from the Corn Refiners’ rival, the Sugar Association, F.D.A. officials sent another letter saying that they needed to give the matter further thought. So now, as a bit of marketing jujitsu (or just a slap in the face to our sugar-coated friends) HFCS is now, the new and improved, “corn sugar.”
This sort of re-branding is hardly rare (“low eurcic acid rapeseed oil” became the all-purpose “canola oil” in 1988), but the whole “corn sugar” masquerade seems utterly cynical, as if consumers will somehow shun the syrup and accept the sugar. The “corn sugar” campaign is indeed savvy, with the repackaging of HFCS (and it is simply a repackaging, not at all a reformulation) as sugar, the Corn Refiners Association can now claim (as they do in their new ad campaign) that, “sugar is sugar.” Isn’t this what we all want? Life to be so simple that it is boiled down to these elemental truths?
Now the Sugar Association is likely pretty displeased by all of this, but really, should they be? The hullabaloo surrounding HFCS has greatly increased the market share, and appeal, of refined sugar – almost recasting it as a natural, nostalgic and highly preferable product to HFCS. And the whole tag of “sugar is sugar” slyly skirts the issue that while sugar might be sugar, sugar is still exceedingly bad for you. The notion that anything natural is healthy—and anything artificial is not—seems entirely deluded when it comes to added sweeteners. The message here should be drastic moderation over all, and unyielding consumer vigilance without exception.
Until we have a handle on all of this, we get to stand on the sidelines and watch the sugar mafias battle it out for the hearts and waistlines of the American public.
Eric Steinman is a freelance writer based in Rhinebeck, N.Y. He regularly writes about food, music, art, architecture and culture and is a regular contributor to Bon Appétit among other publications.
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