Sunday, December 16, 2012

The Prop 37 Hangover



         Over the past month, there has been much talk about why California's Prop 37, the mandatory labeling of foods containing GMO's, failed to pass.  Both sides were using fear tactics.  Proponents cited numerous studies of the dangers of genetically modified crops, while the argument that food prices would rise considerably was the mantra of opponents.  The big difference of course being that the side against labeling have large amounts of money to draw from.  So, it's no surprise that the opposition outspent advocates about 5 to 1.  Also, people tend to think about their bank accounts before they think about their health, as is evident in our overwhelmed health care system.  Trying to legislate change through policy is very difficult with those odds.  Still, almost 6 million people voted for the proposition.  Many were educated around some of the dangers posed by GMO's.  That's important as we move forward.  One of the lessons of Prop 37 is that the fight may be best waged through continuing to develop and link sustainable food communities around the country, as suggested by Kristin Wartman and Erika Lade.  The actions of many brought together to create one voice may be the best weapon to start to disenfranchise the influence of large food companies in our government.  It will have to be quite a loud voice though.  The biotech industry has spent millions of dollars over the past decade to secure their position.  It's possible we have reached the tipping point, as discussed by noted scientist, Jeffrey Smith.  That remains to be seen as the information around GMO's becomes more widespread through mass media coverage.  In a movement without leadership it is imperative to educate the public through the many sources available.  It will take time, but if we truly believe in the power of the people in our democracy then the alternative food economy must transform itself into a serious, hard line political voice.
        A veteran farmer raised an important question to me many years ago: "Why is it necessary to label healthy food as organic or natural?  We should be labeling the stuff with chemicals." If there is a cost to labeling, small farmers and companies have certainly paid it.  That Big Ag refuses to is a clear sign that there is fear of the public being educated.  Yet labeling is only the tip of the iceberg. The fight goes much deeper to the power that corporations wield over our food supply.  There are serious ethical questions about the patenting of food plants and how a corporate entity, let alone an individual, can claim rights to something that is a part of nature--even if it started out in a laboratory.  The drawbacks of these crops and their companion chemical inputs are becoming clear.  Weeds have evolved to become resistant to Roundup.  Its widespread use has also caused a rise in plant diseases and obliterated soil.  Insects are developing resistance to Bt corn and cotton.  Farmers are seeing alarming rates of infertility and spontaneous abortions in their livestock.  Addressing the latter, Dr. Don Huber, an expert on Roundup, sent a letter to USDA Secretary Vilsack concerning high concentrations of a new microscopic organism being found in Roundup treated crops.  The same organism found in analysis of aborted fetal tissue and the animal feed.  Inevitably there are consequences when we tinker with nature.  Now we are starting to see what those consequences are.  Certainly, more will be discovered.  Food is critical to human existence in so many ways.  If we continue to treat it as a mere commodity, then as a result we end up treating ourselves as one.
        Excerpts from these two articles, written years apart, perhaps best represent the ignorance that exists in today's biotech industry, which has lost sight of generations of knowledge in stewarding the land.  While this shift actually began in the late 1800s at the beginning of the industrial economy, it has reached a critical point in its evolution.  We have long since forgotten the ways of peasants that Rudolf Steiner said understood the "breathing of the earth".  Instead, we foolishly believe we can use something we can control--science, to control something we cannot--nature.


 “Modern agriculture is driven by diminishing biological diversity and relentless consolidation, from the farms themselves to the processors and the distributors of the crops and livestock. But you cannot consolidate the soil. It is a complex organism, and it always responds productively to diversity. The way we farm now undervalues and undermines good soil. Our idea of agricultural productivity and efficiency must include the ecological benefits of healthy soil. The surest way to improve the soil is to remember what industrial agriculture has chosen to forget.”

Did Farmers of the Past Know More Than We Do?
Published: November 3, 2012 in the New York Times




     “Perhaps more than any other realm of activity, agriculture has been torn forcefully and irrevocably from the culture from which it originally came. But it is, in another way, only one of many activities upon which our lives depend that now exist in a manner that is light-years apart from the cultural matrix in which they originated.” 
Rudolf Steiner: A Biographical Introduction for Farmers    By Hilmar Moore
Originally published in Biodynamics No. 214 (November/December1997)



Monday, October 22, 2012

More on Wheat: Einkorn Ancient



Last week, as I was considering something for my next post I came across something I hadn't seen before, Einkorn flour.  One of the first wheats to be domesticated around 10,000 years ago along with Emmer, Einkorn(Triticum monococcum) makes a softer, milder loaf with a slightly closed crumb structure.  It is believed some of the first hybridized wheats were from Einkorn and Emmer.  They were bred from already existing wild plants whose seeds did not blow away with the wind.  This was a first step toward  stable communities as people did not have to move themselves in order to find food.  Through this cultivation, culture and agriculture began.  It is also genetically different than modern day wheat and is significantly more nutritious.
For lots more information and recipes check out einkorn.com

Monday, September 24, 2012

Rediscovering the Taste of Wheat




 

    The bread in the bottom photo is made with Red Fife wheat.  It was the flour of choice in the 19th century.  It made it's way to Canada in the 1800's probably from Scotland.  Before that, it's origins are unknown.  It was reintroduced as part of a heritage grain project in Canada in 1989.  Many of our modern types of wheat have the Red Fife lineage.  It makes a bread with a pronounced nutty and slightly herbaceous flavor.  It was one of the most delicious loaves I have baked.  Without the work of farmers and the Canadian agronomist Sharon Rempel, Red Fife may have been lost as it fell out of production soon after the Great Depression.
    The photos at the top are of Mike Zakowski, an exceptional baker in Sonoma, California and some of his fantastic breads.  I recently spent time talking with him about different varieties of wheat and the challenges of obtaining local and organically grown.  One of the most fascinating things about wheat is that it goes through genetic changes every year it's grown and interacts with its environment.  This makes its 'terroir' specific to the field and environment it was grown in that year.  It also creates the challenge of each batch of wheat being slightly different.  Protein and starch levels can vary from field to field and year to year.  Baking becomes more art than science, especially if the grain is milled truly whole--meaning that the bran has not been milled separately and added back, as in commercial flour.  Truly whole grain flour is milled with endosperm, bran, and germ intact.  This accounts for much of the great flavor in varieties like Red Fife.
     Over the past few years there has been a great effort to restart a demand for wheat that exists outside of the commodity market.  Recently, in Northern California we have seen a movement to establish a local grain economy.  The Community Grains  project is helping to engage farmers in this complicated task.   Many of the images we see of wheat in the fields are very large areas planted to one variety on some interchangeable Midwestern range.  The reality is, it's not different from other crops in its susceptibility to disease when planted in large monocultures. Wheat can thrive as part of small, bio-diverse farms.  The challenge is to find more small farms to participate and to invest in an infrastructure that will support what is grown.  That means having the capacity to mill, blend, and store it.  This is expensive because of obvious economies of scale.  The five multinational companies that distribute in the world's wheat commodity market have a massive scale.  They are also selling a product that has only a faint resemblance to wheat.  It is essentially starch with no nutritional value or flavor.  In the few small mills that exist there is large minimum crop requirement to be able to process.  This has made it impossible for farmers with small harvests to mill their crop. The first steps toward this have been taken. Starting with finding farmers and purchasing a small mill, the project seems to be slowly moving forward.  Perhaps the next steps will be to diversify the varieties of heritage wheat and continue to find customers willing to bake with it in the necessary small batches.
     The demand for traditional wheat exists.   If we give people access to the true flavors of the past and the opportunity to taste and see the unique gifts that they offer,  I know a non-commoditized wheat economy can flourish.  If you bake at all, I highly recommend trying some of the different flours available at Anson Mills.  It's only by exposing ourselves to these new, old flavors can we hope to keep their uniqueness alive.
      



Monday, July 16, 2012

Exploring The Past Through The Present


     A seed contains genetic information that is linked historically to its family and to human culture.  In the year 2000, 95 percent of all the seed sown throughout the history of agriculture was extinct.*  As recently as 25 years ago, the biological diversity of food crops was far greater than it is today.  Fifty years ago, there were over 200 varieties of cherries.  Now there are only a handful.  What does this say about the course of agriculture in the last century?  What are the forces that have led us to this incredible decline in diversity?  How do we prevent further homogenization in our agriculture?  How do we take back our most productive soils planted to monocultures of the few dwindling varieties of fruits and vegetables that the market dictates?  This page exists as a place to answer these questions and many more that will evolve out of discussions with the people who are already working within the scope of this manifesto.
      The woman in the photograph is Isabella Ragione.  She is a big part of the reason this page is here.  She, and her now deceased father, have saved many types of apples, pears, and figs from extinction.  Some dating back to medieval times.  Several years ago, I traveled through Umbria with a group of farmers and chefs and we tasted some of this fruit.  I have since sought out some of the more unusual varieties at risk of disappearing. 
      It's easy to see saving plants as the interest of a select few.  Yet the connection of food crops to culture, community, and place is something that exists everywhere, in a variety of forms.  When these foods are lost the traditions that have helped build culture and community are lost with them.  We also lose the subtle differences in taste that are part of that sense of place and greater biodiversity.   The saving of seeds and plants for a future generation is in turn saving all these things we cherish.
     As a chef, it is in my interest to preserve these different flavors.  My pursuit is motivated not only by the need for preservation but also by my desire to cook from the ground up.  To understand the differences in the plants, soils, and places where they are grown. To understand what makes them and the end result unique.  To inspire myself and those who inspire me.  And most of all, to not let the diversity of taste become something we can only read about in books.


*SOURCE:  Wendy Johnson,  Gardening at the Dragon's Gate