soul food farm eggs 3.14.09


alright, alright, jen: after a really, really tough (on me) writing and editing process, i am really excited to be able to say that i'm going to have a piece in the chronicle next sunday.

i can't wait to hear what you all have to say. for reals.


i can't believe it, but spring is finally on its way.

i don't want to jinx it, but i think that something amazing is going to be happening for me very soon. something i didn't quite dare to dream would happen for me this year.

in the meantime, i will do my taxes, continue to unpack, and visit farms. good times.
i think i am almost done. a couple of little things in the morning when i can get my factoids in.

it's been painful to cut a story that should have been 3,000 words into 800. i am dizzy, and do not know anymore if it's any good. i'm scurred.

i'm also excited about how many people are gonna see this thing, and about doing right by my people for once.

the procrastination led me to line shelves with contact paper, unpack, hang stuff on the walls, go to the hardware store, hang a mirror, and do two loads of laundry. the panic led me to contact many friends i haven't spoken to in a long time, for moral support. so it wasn't all bad.

i'll let you know tomorrow how i feel.
why do i always do this? right now i am doing everything, and i mean everything, except what i need to be doing, which is writing the article due in two days....it's not even that long!!! and i have an outline!!! what is my problem???
i've moved (i live by myself now!!!) and the internet connection here is kind of spotty. i have to figure something out, but it's not my first priority. writing the article that's due monday is.

i haven't started it. uh-oh.

just quickly, though: veller gave me a galley copy of her book and i lurve it (and i haven't even gotten to the part about us yet). she's really funny and self-deprecating, and manages to fit in all of these crazy factoids all over the place. it's really crazy how great this book is. i just know she's gonna go big time.
here is a book i CANNOT wait to read: righteous pork chop.

nicolette is one of the most intelligent and well-spoken people i've ever met, whereas i am a clumsy, klutzy fool who struggles with words until i can piece something together. her book will prove to be an important addition to the food politics bookshelf.

(it will also definitely offer some more deeply-researched answers for the hatahs of my pork argument. maybe they'll listen when someone whose job it is to know about pork farming writes about this stuff. i dunno. probably not.)

p.s. check this article out.

safe

i'm so excited to be part of the spring speaking series hosted by safe, uc berkeley's society for agriculture and food ecology, which was founded by severine von tscharner fleming herself.

there's a bunch of pretty amazing events happening this spring, and i'll be part of a trip to visit my fave chicken farmer alexis at soul food farm. what will we eat? egg salad maybe?! meringues?! custards? maybe deviled eggs. oh, the options are endless.

the folks at safe are also bringing you a chance to learn to tan hides with veller, and a salumi tasting where we'll break open one of chris lee's berksciutti.

check out the events--many are free, and they all seem really interesting!
well, the bleep is hitting the fan over at the ethicurean, where bonnie posted our article. i've never really been publicly skewered like that before (except for the time when someone called me a troglodyte on yelp), but i guess i asked for it by wanting to play devil's advocate.

let me respond by saying this: i don't think that there is an easy answer for any of these questions. i just wanted to bring a little attention to the other side of the michael pollan/alice waters argument. there are things about both sides that are really positive (that's why we're having a pig dinner with riverdog farm next week), and all i wanted was to get people to think a little more carefully about where their food comes from and what that means.

(by the way, mp told me he liked the piece, and that it's a discussion that needs to be had. so there!)

a bit of pride


we have a twenty year old cook named robin, who i have spent much of the past two years wanting to kill.  

he's burnt stuff, ruined countless dishes because he didn't listen to my instructions carefully enough, come to work hungover and maybe still drunk from the night before.  he's been late more than anyone in the history of eccolo, and cannot figure out how to keep his pants over his butt crack.  he's learned how to do a task one day, and then screwed it up the next because he couldn't remember what i showed him.  he's taken a bazillion shortcuts, and even worse, taught his shortcuts to others, starting epidemics that can take me weeks to correct.  he's been the king of bad habits and laziness.

a thousand times i have wanted to fire him.

for months, i couldn't even look him in the eye.

but then, one day, something inside him clicked.

and he started to care, and to be careful.  something happened, and he became someone i wanted to teach other people.  he even came to work early once.  he made food that received compliments night after night.  he became a master at butchering beef, rolling pasta, and breaking down chickens.   somewhere in there, i started to trust this person i'd had nightmares about for months, maybe a year, even.  now, when he made mistakes and i called him on it, i could see in eyes exactly how sorry he was.  

i asked him what happened, what had caused this change.  and he said, he wanted to prove me wrong.  he didn't want to be the failure i'd written him off as.  

i cannot believe we didn't fire him all of those times.  i cannot believe we stuck with him.  that day after day, i went into that back room with him and showed him how to make pasta for the twenty-thousandth time.  

i told him, when i'm on my deathbed, i will think of him, and consider his progress one of my greatest achievements in life.  

next week, robin is moving to italy.  to go to college.  

i doubt his parents are as proud as i am.

okay, if you're reading this you probably already know how looney i am, so keep that in mind.

in november, mmc alerted me to the fact that everyone we were friends with in high school, including her, had an eating disorder.  where i was during all of this, i have no idea, because it came as a huge surprise to me.  all i remember doing during high school is eating, running, being an incredibly humongous, angst-filled dork (not so different than now), and homework.  

i guess i shouldn't be surprised--our school was in a wealthy white suburb where most kids had a choice of benz or bmw upon receiving their driver's licenses.  blonde and skinny was the way to be, and even naive me knows that there was a lot of drinking and cocaine around.  so there were all sorts of social pressures, blah blah blah.  but i wasn't really aware of any of that stuff (except for the fact that we weren't wealthy or blonde), least of all the fact that my friends were suffering in such a way.  

my mom always fed us really delicious persian food, and we ate it.  that was that.  i came to college, and i started rowing.  exercising more than i ever had, i also began to eat more than i ever had.  i grew crazy muscles, and when i stopped rowing, i was left with quads, hamstrings and glutes of steel. 

and then, i started cooking.  cooking is hard on your body in many ways, but the long hours of standing on my feet were what initially took their toll on me more than anything else.  well, that plus the incessant tasting (which really became more like eating whatever i wanted and calling it part of my job).  suddenly, i was too tired after work to even think about exercise.  i'd let go of competitive athletics for competitive cooking.  and over the last ten or so years, i've gained about 30 pounds.  

i love to eat.  pretty much everything.  and i'll never be able to give that up.  but in some ways, my zealousness in the kitchen has worked against my health by skewing my ideas about what and how much is okay to eat.  since oil, butter, cream and cheese are my work tools, i've lost a bit of context over time about their proper place in a healthy diet.  and don't even get me started about the pastry station.  let it suffice to say that just because it's local, seasonal and organic doesn't mean that it won't make you fat.

cooks are funny, ruthless people.  we make fun of everyone, especially people who are picky about what they eat.  so changing the way i eat has been a formidable task, probably harder in many ways for me to accomplish than someone who's not in a kitchen all day.

but i have.  changed the way i eat, i mean.  i've done it gradually--first i spent a year eating more fruits and vegetables, then i started to focus on fiber.  and last year, once i started to exercise again, i tried to increase my consumption of lean proteins like yogurt, chicken, turkey and egg whites and decrease my refined carbohydrates, like white flour and sugar (i'm not really supposed to eat much soy b/c of my thyroid).  i traded acme baguettes for whole grain bread.  i traded toast and jam breakfast for egg whites with guacamole.  i traded whole milk for 2% or nonfat.  bye bad cereals, hello kashi 7-grain.  bye basmati, hello brown rice.  no more high fructose corn syrup.  and a great many less ice cream breaks at work.  

and that, along with the gym, helped a lot.  i've lost most of the weight i've gained in the past 10 years.  i even stopped thinking of the muscles left from crew as a liability, like i had been every time i couldn't fit into a pair of jeans, cursing my huge muscular thighs and ignoring my chubby butt.   now i'm proud of my muscle definition, and my powerful legs, so important in so many athletic endeavors.   i just have a little weight left to lose.  and that's where my problems begin.

i'm coocoo, cheap and competitive.  those three things do not make a good combo, i've learned.  when my gym announced a 60-day fat loss competition, i went nutso and decided i had to win, because the prize was 6-months free of membership.  that's worth a lot of money, and i knew that if anything could motivate me to get back on the no refined sugar/flour train (after i'd fallen off over the past few months) and lose that last bit of weight, it's my own frugality.  so i amped everything up: i ate egg whites for breakfast 21 days in a row, cut out the bad stuff, and started experimenting with natural (non-soy) protein powders.  i started working out twice a day, and drinking a lot more water.  i was trying to be a machine about the whole thing.  

at work, i became even crazier (as if it were possible): the more i knew i shouldn't eat certain things, the more i wanted to.  it even happened with things that i normally don't crave, like pasta.  add to that the fact that it's MY job to think about food, to read cookbooks, research dishes, do trial runs, and come up with menu items, and you get a total lunatic.   complete and utter crazy person.  

and then i heard about someone else's progress.  she's already lost a bunch of weight and fat.  so i freaked out, and decided to measure myself.  and when i did, i was flabbergasted: i'd gained weight (not a big deal, since it was probably muscle) and lost only a negligible amount of fat.  what!?  how could this be?  i was working so hard to eat the right stuff and exercise more.  how could this be!?

then i hurt my ankle, a big fat message from the universe telling me to take an effing chill pill.  i lost all of that other weight gradually, and when you have more to lose, the first bits come off more easily.  and i'm injured--not just my ankle, but my shoulder and hips, so when i exercise, i'm not operating at maximum efficiency.  and, thinking about this so much is probably causing a host of other problems that i'm not even aware of.  the competitive streak in me isn't so healthy right now, either.

like i said, i've always been pretty oblivious to people with eating disorders--i'm not staring at anyone's plate but my own at dinner time.  but i've always felt so bad for people who have body image issues.  strangely enough, i don't think that really any of this is about body image for me (or maybe it is, but just a little).  it's about being a nutso maniac, and about figuring out how to do what's best for my sanity and my body.  sure, i want to lose this last bit of weight, and sure i'd love to win that prize and save that money, and of course i want to return in some capacity to athletic competitions.  but not at the cost of pushing myself over some edge into disordered eating.

i'm coocoo and i need to get it under control.  this is why i want to talk to a nutritionist.  don't worry about me, though, because i think just being able to catch this stuff at this point is going to save me from doing any harm to myself.  i just thought you might like a glimpse into my unbalanced mindset.





the year of the ox isn't being so good to me so far.  i've injured myself badly (technically not before chinese new year), cannot manage to actually talk to the nutritionist on the phone, haven't heard a peep back from the last publication i sent a pitch out to, and today my car was hit in the parking lot by an uninsured, unlicensed driver (and since it's technically private property, the cops can't do anything about it).

luckily, i'm healing super-fast (i've been biking and swimming every day), refuse to give up on the nutritionist, will send out more pitches this weekend, and there wasn't really more than a tiny scratch on the car (i just have to hope that there wasn't any major internal damage, which i doubt there was).

i've been

eating: kishus, bananas, turkey, oatmeal and farro
reading: azar nafisi and malcolm gladwell
watching: slumdog millionaire
exercising: figuring out how to use my heart rate monitor for optimum performance
thinking about: spring, persianness, and from seed to table
eagerly awaiting: asparagus, strawberries, to be used to my new glasses and no longer nauseous

and
a goal for this year i'm excited about: participate in an organized athletic event

ok, gotta sleep.
mwah!


mini-update

trini and cassidy campbell, by annie leibovitz

my ankle is healing surprisingly well from the terrible sprain i endured last thursday, complete with a fit of hysterics on the way to the emergency room (and i quote, "exercise saved my life!  if it's broken and i can't exercise, i'm gonna diiiiiiiiiieeeeeeee!!!").  it's about twenty different shades of blue--and i'll spare all of you lightweights a photo--but the swelling has decreased and i no longer have a cankle.

at work, i'm excited to be planning a special dinner with one of my favorite farms, riverdog, on february 17th.  tim, trini, brian and bryan will be around sportin' their sunday finest and talking about organic produce, farming in northern california, and the adventures of their first year as hog farmers.  i can't wait--i buy week in and week out from these guys, and they really have some of the finest produce around.  plus, trini is one heck of a woman farmer.  pretty awesome.

oh, and here is my latest piece in edible san francisco.  it's long, so it comes in two parts: part one and part two.  after reading it, you might think that i'm a hypocrite for being so into the aforementioned dinner, but honestly, i don't think there's a right answer with this stuff.  i just think people need to know all of the information before they make decisions and sweeping judgments about what to eat/what not to eat.  i honestly believe that there are good reasons for both arguments, and i believe wholeheartedly in supporting my local farmers.  

excuse me and my negativity.

i've continued to think about what the goose farmer said about his foie gras, and i think i'm able to put into words now what bothers me so much about foodies, about concept food, about food trends and all the rest: 

when you get to that place in your thinking, food becomes a fetish.  it's not about the food anymore, about the produce or the meat, about the farm or the farmer or the earth.  it's about you, or some chef, or someone's "creativity."  

i was at a party the other night that featured a local chef breaking down a pig in the middle of the room as one of the attractions.  people were walking by with their iphones taking photos like it was a breakdancing busker on fisherman's wharf.  gosh, people, this is food, not entertainment!  yeesh. 

the thing that really pushed me over the edge was when he took the facial skin off in one piece and then everyone in the room went on to hold it over their faces as a mask and pose for more photos.  what?!  this, at a party meant to celebrate sustainable meats?  in a room full of people who purportedly care about where their food comes from?  it was disgusting, and shameful, and completely and utterly disrespectful of that pig.  not to mention, what happened to that meat?  who ate that and thanked that pig for it's life, and the farmer who raised it?  

i have a feeling it's in the dumpster.

blech.

2008 favorites

i have so much to say about the past year.  i keep getting overwhelmed by it all, so i'm going to keep this short.  maybe just my ten favorite things about 2008 (in random order):

1. the ic
2. writing and getting published
3. constantly cooking and eating more and more delicious food
4. epsom salt baths
5. my incredible physical therapist
6. anusara yoga
7. becoming healthier
8. obama
9. my crazy/compassionate/intelligent/ridic x 1,000,000 friends
10. our kitchen (from ryan to robin)