On buying organic, or local, or sustainable, or whatever It's a personal choice, but if you decide to steer clear of conventionally raised meat, the logical next step is to choose organic, local, and sustainably raised foods. This is especially true if you're trying to minimize your impact on the environment. But within each of these distinctions is a range of practices, some regulated by the government, others not.
Legally, in order for a food to be labeled "organic" it must be certified by approved third-party companies. The USDA has issued pages and pages of rules and regulations, but the most important are that I don't believe "eating organic" is essential to sane eating.
No nonorganic pesticides or fertilizers were used.
In the case of animals, no antibiotics or hormones were used.
No genetically modified crops were used at any stage of production.
This is fairly clear, although the benefits remain debatable-that is why I don't believe "eating organic" is essential to sane eating.
By contrast, "natural," "cage-free," and even "grass-fed" are not nearly as well defined or regulated. So unless a label makes statements like "no pesticides" or "no antibiotics," you have no idea whether or not they were really used. (A true skeptic doesn't believe such declarations anyway, and I sometimes fall into that camp. But what are you going to do?) Certified organic products can display the USDA logo as a seal of approval. For single-ingredient foods like produce, pantry, dairy items, eggs, and meats, approval means that the product complies with the USDA standards. For prepared and processed foods, those made with more than one ingredient, the certification system allows for a range of labeling options, from 100 percent (meaning that all the ingredients used to make the product were organic) to "made with organic ingredients" (at least 70 percent). If the food is labeled simply "organic," along with the shield, it means that between 95 percent and 100 percent of the ingredients are certified organic.
Can a head of lettuce that travels 3,000 miles by truck still qualify as "organic"?
This is not ideal, but it's the only regulated distinction from conventionally raised food we have. Since all this certification is expensive and onerous, you should expect companies and people who have really earned it to display it. (The fine for selling something uncertified as organic is $11,000; a deterrent for very small producers but not at all for larger ones.) At farmers' markets or other places where labeling is more ambiguous, you're going to have to ask, and then use your best judgment.
Organic food, of course, has become big business; with Big Food companies continually snapping up organic companies and creating new organic products, this is among the fastest-growing sectors of the food industry. That raises questions about mass production, mass pollution, and mass distribution-the same issues that are raised about conventionally produced food. To me (and to a lot of other people), all this defeats the purpose, which is to produce food in a way that sustains us and the planet. Can a head of lettuce that travels 3,000 miles by truck, or a piece of fish that's been flown halfway across the world, still qualify as "organic"?
Enter locally raised food, the trend that led to the term "locavore." A locavore is someone who eats food that's grown locally, usually within a couple of hundred miles. The environmental benefit here is that the food doesn't travel far. But there's the inconvenient fact that if you live anywhere in the northern half of the country you are not going to have a lot of options come winter. (Some people will argue this is the direction in which we are and indeed should be heading, but it's a tough sell in twenty-first-century America.) And sometimes economies of scale and distribution may make it not only economically but environmentally "cheaper" to ship products from afar.
Still, eating locally has many more positives than negatives. It makes people think about seasonality, and about how ridiculous it is to eat summer fruits and vegetables in January; ending or limiting that habit would be unquestionably good for the environment (and for the cook; there is joy in eating seasonally).
Locavorism has also been a boon for urban and suburban farmers' markets, and-more important-for the farmers who supply them. That in turn helps rural economies. Most important, produce fresh from the ground and animal products raised by real humans provide the most nourishment and the most enjoyment.
Local food is usually expensive, and it can't provide everything for everyone, but it's sensible and as environmentally sound as it's going to get. I'd choose nonorganic conscientiously raised local food over corporate organic food in just about every case.
Eating locally has many more positives than negatives.
This is especially so because many small farmers skip the cost of getting organically certified but practice sustainable farming, which is often a combination of the best of organic with the best of local. "Sustainable" is a fuzzy term, and it's not legally defined, but the idea is to produce food in a system (we used to call this a "farm") that uses modern versions of old agricultural practices and a minimum of artificial inputs. In other words, you may have some livestock in a barn, and you collect the hay used for bedding (rich in animal wastes, naturally) and compost it for use in the fields. Chickens roam freely, pecking for bugs and contributing their own fertilizer to the soil. And of course you harvest eggs, milk, and meat.
Is there enough land? Are there enough knowledgeable farmers? Is there a localized distribution system that can support truly sustainable agriculture? I don't think so. As you know from earlier discussions, industrial farming was designed to streamline agriculture and resolve these questions, so my guess is that modern sustainability is going to mean a food production and distribution system that looks different from the way it does now, but it's not going to look like an updated version of the early twentieth century.
Shop where you like and buy what looks freshest and most appealing to you.You don't have to cook to eat sanely-but it helps.
The bottom line is this: shop where you like and buy what looks freshest and most appealing to you. Eating as though food matters will heighten your awareness of these complicated issues, and you'll naturally pay more attention to the impact your choices have on you and the environment. Are your choices going to be perfect and free of hypocrisy? I'd be lying if I said mine were. But I can't repeat it enough: the aggregate of even the smallest changes equals big changes.
The Food Matters Food Matters kitchen kitchen You don't have to cook to eat sanely, but cooking helps, and cooking is what Part II of Food Matters Food Matters is about. If you already know how to cook, you have a head start. If you don't, let me tell you that cooking can be a joy. Over the years I've developed some techniques that help minimize the work and maximize the yield. Here, then, are the basics of the is about. If you already know how to cook, you have a head start. If you don't, let me tell you that cooking can be a joy. Over the years I've developed some techniques that help minimize the work and maximize the yield. Here, then, are the basics of the Food Matters Food Matters kitchen. kitchen.
Planning-and cooking-to eat more plants People never think they have time to plan, but I'm going to make the case that planning (call it thinking ahead if you like) actually saves you time. Start with this premise: You're going to eat what's handy. (This is how junk food manufacturers get rich.) If you always have veggies ready for cooking, quick assembly into impromptu dishes, snacking, or taking on the run, that's what you'll eat. Here, then, are some simple suggestions.
When you cook at home, wash and prepare vegetables in bulk. Most cut-up veggies, properly stored, will keep for days, with no problem. It takes far less than twice as much time to prep twice as many vegetables: the equipment is out, the water is in the sink, and your attitude is adjusted. Peel a bag of carrots instead of a couple, and put the extra in water in the fridge. Ditto celery. Clean a head of cabbage and cut it into wedges. Wash a couple heads of broccoli or cauliflower and trim them into florets. Spend some time each day doing this sort of stuff (you can talk on the phone at the same time, though sending e-mail is tough), and you'll always maintain a week's worth of fresh vegetables, ready to go.
This is especially true for salad greens; it takes hardly any more time to wash a head of lettuce, or two heads for that matter, than to wash a few leaves. Buy a salad spinner, the kind without holes in the bottom for the water to drain out. This is a the best way to wash (and store) all kinds of greens (and other veggies). A spinner with a tight seal can extend the life of veggies for up to a week; leave a few drops of water in the bottom to help retain moisture.
It takes far less than twice as much time to prep twice as many vegetables.
Similarly, cook vegetables, legumes, and grains in large quantities. Here's a case where you also conserve energy, since it takes just as much energy to roast or grill a pound of vegetables as to cook three pounds. And if you have the oven on to roast a chicken, why not add a pan of vegetables to the rack below? Similarly, you can cook three cups of rice or oatmeal as easily as you cook one cup, or a few pounds of potatoes as easily as one (very handy when you want potato salad). It's the same effort, and cooked vegetables and grains are easy to store and reheat.
I'm a big fan of leftover finished dishes, but if you set aside plainly cooked extra vegetables, they're even easier to vary and reuse. And, every week, cook a full pot of beans and at least one pot of whole grains. This stuff keeps really well and has infinite uses.
Precooking is the best way to extend the life of food that is threatening to go bad on you. Chop up a bag of apples, skin on if you like, for a batch of quick applesauce. Make a compote out of assorted fruit that seems a little over the top.
And use your freezer. It's running all the time anyway, right? In fact it'll run more efficiently full than empty. (You're not buying microwave dinners anymore, either.) Fill it with staples, as you would a pantry: frozen vegetables, precooked beans, leftovers, grains and nuts for long-term storage, and so on.
Eating in restaurants or taking out Eating sanely is easiest when you're home: you have control over what's in the house, what you prepare, and what you put on the table. If you stayed at home all the time, you could determine just about everything that went into your mouth.
No one does that. We go to work; we travel; we eat out for pleasure. And it's outside the home that things become tricky.
This, I think, is where the Food Matters Food Matters strategy really shines, because among its chief principles is to let yourself go. "Cheating" (it isn't really cheating; it's part of the plan) is not only allowed but encouraged. No one wants to give up pleasure if they don't have to, and I'm not asking you to. If you eat lunch or dinner out, and you don't want to maintain the general sane eating habits-well, don't. As I've said, what works for me is to be ultrastrict from dawn until dusk, and then let myself go more or less wild, although the wildness has become more moderate as my habits have changed. strategy really shines, because among its chief principles is to let yourself go. "Cheating" (it isn't really cheating; it's part of the plan) is not only allowed but encouraged. No one wants to give up pleasure if they don't have to, and I'm not asking you to. If you eat lunch or dinner out, and you don't want to maintain the general sane eating habits-well, don't. As I've said, what works for me is to be ultrastrict from dawn until dusk, and then let myself go more or less wild, although the wildness has become more moderate as my habits have changed.
So that's the first rule: don't let yourself feel too guilty.
In the Food Matters Food Matters strategy, cheating is not only allowed but encouraged. strategy, cheating is not only allowed but encouraged.
Having said that, I know full well the temptations of lunches at work and meals grabbed on the run. And you can't eat sanely unless you can be disciplined most of the time.
There are two basic strategies. One, carry your own food. Two, figure out in advance what you're going to eat. If you carry your own food, you're always safe. At my work desk, I have popcorn (and a little covered-bowl setup that lets me pop it, with or without oil, in the office microwave); various bags of nuts and dried fruit, sunflower seeds, and the like; a few pieces of fruit, which I replenish once or twice a week from home or a nearby vegetable stand; and sometimes some whole grain crackers.
Needless to say, there are many days when this assortment doesn't cut it and I head upstairs to the company cafeteria for lunch. That's easy enough: I look for vegetable side dishes (quite cheap, by the way), salads of any and all types, beans, olives, grilled vegetables, and, if the pickings are slim, raw broccoli, cauliflower, tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots. I sometimes fill two plates with this stuff, and I assure you that while the volume is high the caloric density approaches zero.
The hard part is lunch out. I can make the easy decision, which is essentially to postpone discipline, and allow my one big meal of the day to be lunch. But I've learned that in reality-again, I'm me, and you may be different-this is a slippery slope; when I eat a big lunch, I still want a glass of wine later with my light dinner, and the glass of wine often leads to another, and to "a little pasta," and suddenly my light dinner isn't so light.
So I try to steer business associates to lunch places where I know I can do pretty well, those that have lots of vegetarian entrees (Indian restaurants are always a good bet), or where I can get a salad, some grilled vegetables, and maybe a piece of fish. Takeout is along the same lines. It's the same sort of intuitive planning ahead that I discussed earlier in this section, but now someone else is cooking.
On the road, in airports, in strange cities, things are a little more difficult. Sometimes I order two salads, or salad and soup and a side of vegetables. Sometimes I tough it out and buy nuts, carrot sticks, whatever I can find, and figure I'm going to be a little hungry that afternoon.
And sometimes I give up. This is a long-range plan, after all, and what happens on any given day matters not at all. Overeating, or eating "badly," in the modern American style, is not a physical addiction, like smoking, drinking, or heroin; you can recover from an off day the next day, with no lingering ill effects, even psychological ones.
For a more detailed look at a typical day of eating, head to Food Matters Meal Plans.
FOOD MATTERS.
PART II.
How to Cook Like Food Matters Eating like food matters is easy. You don't need to count calories, weigh portions, or find unusual ingredients. In fact, for the most part the ingredients are absolutely regular.
But this is not to say that the recipes are the same ones you find everywhere else. Many of them have what might be considered unusual constructions; and as a group, they reflect the general principles outlined in the preceding chapters of the book: less meat, more plants. This makes them more traditional than the vast majority of recipes printed in most twentieth-century cookbooks, which tend to represent a kind of excess that is no longer considered either desirable or practical.
Not all the Food Matters Food Matters recipes are vegetarian. Some are, but others are what you might call flexitarian: meat or fish is optional. Those that may seem most unusual feature animal products in smaller proportions than is traditional in the United States. So when you grill meat and vegetables to make kebabs, you'll be grilling more vegetables than meat; similarly, when you combine meat and beans to make cassoulet, you won't be using three pounds of meat to serve six people; and even chicken breasts are stuffed with vegetables. recipes are vegetarian. Some are, but others are what you might call flexitarian: meat or fish is optional. Those that may seem most unusual feature animal products in smaller proportions than is traditional in the United States. So when you grill meat and vegetables to make kebabs, you'll be grilling more vegetables than meat; similarly, when you combine meat and beans to make cassoulet, you won't be using three pounds of meat to serve six people; and even chicken breasts are stuffed with vegetables.
The general idea is that whether you use these recipes individually, occasionally, or religiously, you'll shift the balance of your calorie intake from predominantly animal products to predominantly plant products. You can use the knowledge you gained from reading the preceding chapters, or refer to the meal plans on Chapter 8-Chapter 9, to put together dishes, meals, or daily schedules that appeal to you.
None of this assumes that you're going to stop eating "normal" food; in fact, the recipes here are "normal" food. I do assume, however, that if you want a grilled steak or a bowl of ice cream you won't be looking here to find it. Again, both steak and ice cream fit perfectly well into a Food Matters pattern of eating, but with far less frequency than most of us have become used to. And to the extent that the recipes here represent the bulk of your diet, you'll probably be eating far better than you ever have.
Since the recipes here, or recipes like them, will form the backbone of your diet when you start eating well, it makes sense to have your pantry well stocked with the basics, and to begin intentionally overcooking. Many staples of the Food Matters diet can be cooked ahead of time and frozen or refrigerated, to be used in the coming days or weeks, so it's often worth your time to double or triple a given recipe and tuck it away. (You'll find the recipes I'm talking about in the section called "The Basics," beginning on Chapter 9.) For example, there is almost no reason to cook less than a pound of dried beans or whole grains: A large amount takes the same time as a small amount, and both foods keep well, refrigerated, for up to a week, and frozen indefinitely. You'll probably wind up eating beans several times a week anyway, and grains are easily heated up (or eaten cold) for breakfast cereal.
Again, if the recipes here (and the general style of these recipes) make up the bulk of your diet, you'll probably be eating far better than you have ever eaten before. To cook in the Food Matters style you'll probably want to adjust-to a greater or lesser degree-the foods you stock regularly in your cupboards, fridge, and freezer-in short, your pantry.
Some are obvious, and you already have them (olive oil, for example); some are not so obvious. There are some that are complete musts, whereas others are more or less optional, though they can help you in the long run.
So, I've created two lists: The Essential Food Matters Pantry and The Advanced Food Matters Pantry. If you maintain a well-stocked pantry, you'll be able to produce most of the recipes here without doing much (if any) other shopping. And since most of these ingredients keep nearly indefinitely, it's worth a little initial investment in time and money to get them into the house. Buy what tastes good to you; price isn't always the best indicator, but you want these ingredients to be high-quality.
The Essential Food Matters Pantry Just about everything on this list belongs in every kitchen pretty much all the time.
Grains. These are mostly whole, and include rice, cornmeal, and whole grain flours. Buy an assortment, preferably in bulk from a store with a fair amount of turnover. But don't buy grains by the ton, at least at first; you will have preferences as you get to know them. Store a pound or so in the cupboard, with excess in the freezer or fridge.
Beans. Like grains, buy an assortment of dried beans. But unlike grains, legumes come in thousands of varieties, ranging from white to black, from yellow to red to celadon, from tiny to huge, from round to kidney-shaped. Again, buy a pound or so at a time, and don't buy more than you're going to use in the next few months. Canned beans are fine, too, but they're more expensive, the selection isn't as great, and they don't taste as good. Frozen beans are an excellent convenience food, though sometimes anything other than lima beans are hard to find.
Olive oil. Your go-to fat. Extra-virgin, in almost every case. Country of origin doesn't matter much. Price does, but the $10-a-liter stuff is perfectly fine for most uses. Store a pint or so on the counter, the rest in a dark cupboard or the fridge; it keeps for only a few months. (You can extend its life by refrigerating the portion that you're not going to use in the next couple of weeks.)
Other oils. You'll need something more neutral for cooking Asian-style dishes or for pan-frying at high heat. In the recipes, I usually suggest either peanut oil or other vegetable oils. I use grape seed (though it can be hard to find), since I'm not a fan of canola (it's sticky and, to me, has an off flavor). Other vegetable oils, like sunflower or peanut, might work well for you. The key is always to buy minimally processed, high-quality oil, cold-pressed whenever possible.
Staple vegetables and fruits. These range from much-used seasonings, like onions and garlic, which you should always have on hand (shallots are nice, too); to frozen vegetables like spinach, peas, and corn, which it pays to stock; to fresh vegetables, which you have to purchase at least a couple of times a week. Keepers like carrots, potatoes and sweet potatoes, celery, lemons, and limes, can be replenished as you use them.
Fresh herbs. Something as simple as parsley can make all the difference; and almost all herbs, especially basil, mint, dill, rosemary, thyme, and cilantro, are great to have around.
Spices. As big an assortment as your space and budget will allow. Ideally, you'll replace spices annually, more or less; even whole spices don't keep forever. But they're inexpensive, especially if you buy them in ethnic markets rather than supermarkets, or from a specialist like Penzey's (www.penzeys.com). Chiles are a special case (though you can usually buy them where you buy spices). Stock some dried hot ones (usually red) and also some mild ones, like pasillas. Chipotles are good to have around, too, for their unique smoky-hot flavor.
Vinegar. I think sherry vinegar is the most versatile and best for the money; balsamic, of course, is more popular, but sweeter. If you can find well-made red and white wine vinegar, those are good too, as is rice vinegar, which has the lowest acidity of any vinegar and important in Asian-style dishes.
Soy sauce. Look for brands that contain no more than soy, wheat, salt, water, and bacteria.
Dried fruit and nuts. For snacking and for cooking. The fat in nuts can go rancid, so don't buy more than you're going to use in a month or so (or store in the freezer). Remember sesame and sunflower seeds too, and nut butters, including tahini, which makes an excellent sauce when mixed with a little water or lemon juice.
Meat, dairy, and cheese. The whole argument here, of course, is that you don't need meat or dairy food, but most people are going to want some of it around (I do, anyway), and the following four things all keep well, are very useful, and add great flavor whenever you use them. They're also obvious, but hey: Bacon. Keep a hunk in the freezer or fridge and use it for seasoning. An ounce goes a long way. Keep a hunk in the freezer or fridge and use it for seasoning. An ounce goes a long way.
Parmesan cheese. Lasts forever; grated over almost any salad or pasta dish, is just a killer. Lasts forever; grated over almost any salad or pasta dish, is just a killer.
Butter. What can I say? As an occasional alternative to olive oil in cooking or flavoring, a real pleasure. What can I say? As an occasional alternative to olive oil in cooking or flavoring, a real pleasure.
Eggs. Possibly the most useful of all animal products. Possibly the most useful of all animal products.
Canned tomatoes. Couldn't be simpler. Plum tomatoes tend to be sweetest and best-tasting. Pre-chopped tomatoes make life a little easier. Avoid those with additives.
Sweeteners. Sugar is unavoidable and of course fine in moderation. But maple syrup and honey are in a way far more useful, since they deliver more flavor along with sweetness.
Baking soda, baking powder, instant yeast. Especially if you're into baking.
The Advanced Food Matters Pantry You don't need everything here every day, or perhaps not even every week, but most of it keeps well and many items, once exotic, have become part of contemporary eating. Many of them provide instant flavor.