Fad Food

“The truth is so often the reverse of what has been told to us by our culture that we cannot turn our heads far enough around to see it.” Howard Zinn

Change is a norm we have come to accept, and for the food industry change is the lifeblood of profit growth. For growth to continue, the foods we consider healthy, and therefore the foods we most often buy, need to change often. There’s great pressure within the industry for novelty because new products give food manufacturers a competitive edge and increase profits.

Consider some of the popular “health” foods we’re told we need: energy drinks, power bars, probiotic-enriched products, fat-free foods, butter and egg substitutes, processed organic foods, and vegetable oils. There are also popular fad diets that eliminate entire food groups, promise a quick fix, or sell special products you must buy in order to follow the diet.

Reading these examples, you may understandably feel some surprise. But can you see how all of them, the foods and the fads, have been manufactured to replace something real?  Can you see how they are all touted to reduce something: weight or cholesterol, hunger or cancer? We are told that eating this way will nourish us and make us look and feel better. We are told there is virtue in making choices like theseIf only we believe, if only we agree to open our wallets.

William Coperthwaite wrote these good words:

“Under pressure of marketing…, the average person has little chance of choosing sensibly. The only alternative seems to be to become very self-conscious about food. By this means some few people learn to live healthily, while a great many others go to extremes—all carrot juice, or no bread, or all brown rice and no dairy products.”

If you enjoy the sort of food products listed above, then by all means buy them. But if you consume them because you believe they will move you toward good health or keep you there, feel no regret about passing them over.

Fad foods are the storms of our time. They blow in, create excitement, and stir up energy in the marketplace. We seek cover in food choices that make us feel we’re responding and give us some sense of being in control, but these choices leave us with thinner wallets and without a corresponding increase in vitality.

Overwhelmed by marketing messages, we have lost our familiarity with real food, leaving us to figure out what constitutes a nourishing diet. Yet it’s hard for us to know how to eat well without knowing something about food traditions of the past. While not all of these traditions were good ones, looking back is a way of gaining perspective and avoiding the fads of today: the value-added product fads, the weight-loss fads, the health-nut fads, the measure-every-vitamin-and-calorie fad. To quote the late historian and intellectual Tony Judt:

“We have abandoned not just the practices of the past–this is normal enough and not so very alarming–but their very memory. A world just recently lost is already half forgotten.”

Try, if you can, to remember that our physically-active ancestors ate butter, chicken fat, egg yolks, meat, and full-fat dairy products, all foods that top our forbidden list, to no ill consequence. On the contrary, our rates of chronic disease and obesity have soared since we left these foods behind and replaced them with manufactured substitutes, and the correlation is not likely a coincidence. In part, what made these foods different from the products that are marketed to us today is how the animals they came from were cared for and what foods they ate. There is also the way the land was cared for and how these foods were prepared.

There are people who would have us believe that issues of food and health require a complicated, technical response, and that we need scientists to tell us what to eat, but take a closer look and you’ll see that they all stand to make money by having us believe this. Among nutritionists and physicians who are paying attention, there is a general consensus that corresponds with common sense. And while they may differ on nuance, their overall message is consistent: Eat real food, food that doesn’t change.

You know food is real if you can identify its source and feel confident about what it contains. Real food has no hidden ingredients. It comes mainly from the perimeter of the grocery store and not as much from the middle aisles. Real food can also come from co-ops, farmers’ markets and community-supported gardens. It’s food your great-grandparents would recognize and can generally include meat, fish, whole grains, beans, nuts, seeds, vegetables, fruits, eggs, olive oil, animal fats, whole milk, cream, and butter. Real food is also farmed without pesticides and is free from genetic modification, as it has been for nearly all of human history. And it is best prepared using traditional cooking methods: a saute pan, a pot, an oven.

Doing what a profit-driven food industry tells us to do gives us little credit for deciding for ourselves. It denies us the fun of developing our own ideas, and the stimulation and pleasure of figuring things out, of listening to our bodies and making adjustments until we get it right. There are few food experts who, no matter how sensible or wise, can figure food out for us.

If you need help finding sources of real food for yourself, have a look at some of these links:

For local farms, farmers’ markets or a community supported garden.

For grass-finished meat.

For kosher grass-finished meat.

For local, wild-caught fish, visit your local farmers’ market from spring through fall. For high-quality wild fish and seafood, much of it kosher, try Vital Choice.

For milk, cream, cheese and butter straight from a local farm to you.

For heirloom whole grains and organic flours grown and freshly milled in the mid-Atlantic.

For traditional maple syrup or maple crystals for baking.

For fine or coarse sea salt.

Copyright, Ellen Arian, Ellen’s Food & Soul

Backyard Hens

I gave birth to my first daughter when I was 27 years-old and, according to an invisible cosmic plan, every seven years I welcomed another daughter into the world. With my youngest about to turn seven, and without any conscious pining for new life, I came up with the idea, perfectly on cue, of expanding my brood to include not one, but six lovely new girls. They're hens, to be more precise, and I surprise myself by enjoying and doting on them far more than I expected to.

There is, of course, the issue of propitious timing, and there is also the natural evolution of whims and desires. My own evolution was helped along by people like Joan Dye Gussow, a passionate advocate for eating locally and well. In her book, This Organic Life, which I read many years ago, she describes the challenge she took on in mid-life of growing all of her own food in a large and ambitious garden.  Back then, her commitment helped firm my resolve to eat as locally and cleanly as I could. This year I read her new book, Growing Older, and renewed my commitment to self sufficiency; hence a perpetuation of the 7-year cycle and my hens.

I actually long wanted hens but, to be honest, I was afraid. With so many predators around, I wondered how I would I keep hens alive. More to the self-absorbed point, I wondered how I would deal with death when it happened, how would I clean up the mess.

After months of burying my nose in books and articles, I convinced myself I could do it. So this spring, I welcomed new life and there is so much about it that I love. The hens run free on pasture, they eat bugs and stir up my compost pile, and here is the kicker: They turn grass, bugs, and kitchen scraps into really superior eggs.

If you have ever daydreamed about small-scale farming, raising livestock in your own backyard, or taking personal responsibility for raising some portion of the food you eat, I cannot tell you what a joy you would find tending hens to be. They are smart; who knew? They are wonderfully athletic. They have distinct personalities, and recognize and greet those who tend them. They let me know when they’re happy and what they need, and they make a soft cluck-clucking noise with a sort of rolling, back-of-the-throat purr that soothes and reassures.

For the linguist in you, there is another fun aspect to raising hens: There are so many figures of speech that come from chicken tending. They will come to mind daily and you will say, “Oh, that’s where that turn of phrase originated.” Here are a few to help you see what I mean:

  • Coming home to roost: At the end of the day, hens run to the coop and fly up to a horizontal bar, or a tree branch if they live in the wild, to roost for the night.

  • Rooster: The male of the species sits high on a tree branch where he roosts to watch over his hens. So, he is the “roost-er.”

  • Hen pecked: When hens are irritated with each other, which doesn’t happen often if they have ample space, they peck at each other with sharp beaks.

  • Don’t put all your eggs in one basket: If, when you go out to gather eggs, you put all of them into one basket, you might lose the whole bunch by dropping or knocking it. If you put some eggs into one basket and the rest in another, there is a greater likelihood you will have eggs for breakfast.

  • Running chicken: When young hens are threatened, they don’t run toward the aggressor to defend themselves, they turn and run away.

  • Scratching out a living: Chickens scratch the soil to find bugs to fill their bellies.

  • Pecking order: Within a group of hens, there exists a hierarchy, and pecking is the means to put an up-and-comer in her place.

  • Flying the coop: A hen will occasionally take flight and leave the coop, which brings us to a related figure of speech…

  • The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. Hens might roam on a pasture full of grass, weeds, bugs and all a chicken could desire. But they will still stick their heads through the fence, or go over the fence, in search of some imagined improvement in circumstances.

Here are a few more examples to give you some idea of what an agricultural people we once were, with an entire lexicon established around the shared experience of chicken tending: nest egg, hatch an idea, cock-eyed, feather your nest, hen house, mother hen, rule the roost, bad egg, walking on eggshells; and there are more. If you someday get your own hens, you will have the fun of conjuring up the rest yourself.

Copyright, Ellen Arian, Ellen’s Food & Soul