Reinventing The Wheel

It's been a while since I've posted here. Life has been busy. And complicated. And challenging. I've started multiple blog posts, only to not quite be able to pull my thoughts together. Just too much happening all at once in my mind. Sometimes that's just how it goes.

On the up side, I've seen compelling evidence of the difference resulting from the dietary changes we've made, and that even The Boy, who has fought these changes at almost every step, is starting to appreciate the difference in how he feels- at least when he stops eating this way. That's worth a lot. And it's part of what pushed me over the edge to tackle another, long neglected, food goal. Tonight's dinner preparation was the first of the kids' cooking lessons.

Sometime back toward the beginning of this journey, the reality of my own spectacular lack of training in the "kitchen arts" sank in. It was an overwhelming realization to confront while also trying to radically change the totality of one's dietary habits. But it also made me cognizant of the need to prepare my children better than I had been prepared. Yet, being at the beginning of that journey myself left me frustrated and not ready to tackle teaching anyone else. The goal was shelved until recently.

I'm still learning how to cook with real ingredients rather than short-cut ingredients that are convenient but packed with stuff we shouldn't actually eat. I still get frustrated in the kitchen on a fairly regular basis. And, sadly, I still botch meals on a fairly regular basis. Fortunately, I have learned that thats's one of the lessons the kids need to learn- that developing cooking skills takes time. It takes trials and, inevitably, errors.

I had been getting frustrated with the restrictions on what I could prepare- not only from my own lack of knowledge, but due to the kids "won't eat" lists. And I had grown tired of complaints when things didn't go as planned in dinner preparation.

Finally, this combination of circumstances came together to push me to just jump in where I am and let the kids learn first hand the trials and tribulations of feeding your family. I feel like I'm reinventing the wheel. I know the knowledge to manage a kitchen well and prepare tasty wholesome foods is out there. I'm still working on tracking it down. But that's okay. We can learn together- and they can avoid waking up when they're pushing forty and realizing they don't know how to appropriately feed their bodies. It'll be an adventure. The kids will gain a useful skill. I'll gain a few nights off from cooking duty. And hopefully we'll all gain greater appreciation for each others efforts. Wish us luck on this new journey- we're going to need it!

How about you- have you taught your kids to cook? Do you have any tips to share?

This post is participating in Fight Back Friday, hosted by Food Renegade.

Getting The Most For Your Meat Dollars

This morning's wade through the ole inbox uncovered a nifty little gem in today's edition of Mary Hunt's Everyday Cheapskate newsletter. Inside was an article titled "It Pays to Know Your Cuts of Meat," which included a link to a University of Nebraska-Lincoln Extension pamphlet (note that it is labeled "historical materials" as if somehow this info would cease being useful).

The basic idea behind this pamphlet is pretty simple. Instead of comparing meats by price per pound, we get more bang for our buck by comparing meats by price per serving. I think most of us probably already do this to some degree based on our previous experiences. But this handy dandy pamphlet includes a chart that does the mental gymnastics for us and covers more cuts than we (okay, I) can mentally keep track of, based on serving sizes of 3 ounces each.

One caveat: This pamphlet focuses on how much meat you get for your money, not how much utility. So for example, there is no accounting in the pamphlet for the bone broth you could make from the bones you paid for with your meat.

This post is a participant in Fight Back Friday, hosted by Food Renegade.

Real Food. Real Easy.

By rights, all I should be doing right now is studying for the exams I have tomorrow. Instead, I went into the yard this morning with the dogs. From the window, I had seen it blooming, and I just had to get a close-up view. Had to.

This gorgeous yellow flower is the lone Russian Red Kale that survived the winter in my garden. In the fall, I was so busy with school... parenting... surviving... that I never cleaned up the garden for winter. When the snow hit, the garden was a wreck. Completely overgrown. *Sigh* I figured I would take care of things in the spring. But the spring semester has been even crazier than the fall and it hasn't happened.

Several weeks ago, however, I took a wrong turn in the yard and ended up staring a monster of a kale plant right in the face. Literally. The trunk on this thing is thicker than my drinking glasses. At that point, it had put out lots of new growth and was just starting to think about flowering. Free food! Exactly when there was nothing fresh locally, too. I pinched back it's first flower foray and harvested a surprising quantity of leaves. And then another. But eventually, it seemed cruel and pointless to stop this plant from flowering. It really wanted to. It was supposed to. And if it did, there would be more kale plants. So I left it alone to do its thing- and it has. It's beautiful. The trunk, stems, and leaf veins are purple, the leaves green, and the flowers this cheerful yellow. It's such a pretty plant that it left me wondering where I could use it in a flower border. Seriously. It's that pretty. And hey, people use those ugly, stinky ornamental cabbages- so why not kale?

But the kale wasn't all I found in the garden today. I also found an army or lettuce. Seriously. Check out the formation to the left. The solid green is Amish Deer Tongue, and the speckled is Forellenschluss (aka Speckled Trout Back, etc). Or perhaps I should say, that's what they were last year. Because I was not paying attention, I do not know if the lettuces flowered at the same time. They may be hybrids; or not. At this point, I don't care. I have an entire bed of lettuce growing, for which I did exactly nothing. In addition to these two, I've found exactly one head of this lovely (but poorly photographed) lettuce. I don't remember it's name, but will have to look it up and plant some more. It is really pretty! As you can imagine, I was thrilled so much lettuce going strong in the garden with no effort from me. But the bounty didn't

end there. The grapes that came with the property, whose trellis was all but obliterated by the series of storms over the winter, are leafing out. I haven't told them, but I've been thinking about pulling them out, rebuilding a stronger, better trellis, and planting grapes we actually like. The strawberry bed I put in last year is going like crazy. Apparently strawberries enjoy a certain degree of neglect because I have never seen strawberry plants this big. There are weeds everywhere, and still these plants make every effort to do what they are designed to do. If I remember to cover the strawberry bed to keep out the birds, it looks like we should have a bumper crop this year. How awesome is that? But wait, there's more! Despite my best effort to clean all the potatoes out of

the bed last year, one potato plant has come up. At this point, I'm inclined to leave it be for now and see what happens. You're not really *supposed* to do that- in order to prevent diseases from building up in the soil. But what the heck- let's live a little!
Then there's the chard, in red and yellow, and the corn salad that have seeded freely. And the hop vine running towards the sun. And the onions that didn't get pulled last year, but which I tried to pull early this spring and then gave up on because they were uber slimy, they are looking lovely as they prepare to go to seed.
As a gardener, and especially as a master gardener, I should be ashamed of myself for letting my garden fall into such a state. But as a real person with real responsibilities that have to come before the garden, I have to acknowledge that things happen. Usually, though, when "things happen" they don't result in free food sans work! Seeing the unplanned, yet very welcome, bounty in the garden- and the sheer beauty of some of these plants when allowed to go full cirlce,

has me thinking a lot about how and why we relegate food plants
to a garden of their own. Many plants from the food garden would be truly lovely mixed in with ornamentals. How about a walkway lined with gorgeous lettuce? Or kale as the backdrop to flowers? Onions provide interesting structural elements and the cool flowers common to all alliums. Strawberries might make a fun groundcover. Edible landscaping is not a new idea. But I'm not sure why its not more popular. I'm guessing people have just never seen the possibilities open to them. But it's worth having a good think over, because the potential exists to produce a lot of food without giving up the interest and decorative value of traditional landscape plants. Do you have an edible landscape? I would love to hear how you incorporate food with fun in your garden.

This post is part of Fight Back Friday hosted by Food Renegade.

Speak Up. They're Listening.

So, recently, I sounded off in a post here about my frustration with Safeway over a telephone survey I participated in, purportedly to improve my local store. I was so annoyed after the survey that I fired off an email to Safeway with my list of suggestions, none of which were covered by the survey. Among my complaints were things such as not being able to buy fresh, wild-caught salmon and the unavailability of unprocessed staples like beans and rice in bulk, or at least in sizes larger than a single meal. I complained that while regular milk got several cases that were always full, organic milk got only one case that was always near empty. And I mentioned that it would be nice to have the option of buying the "most sprayed" produce items in organic instead. In addition, I told them that my family tries to eat a "real foods" diet and that we have some food sensitivity issues that make buying groceries challenging in a store filled with processed foods.

This morning, I went to my local Safeway. The produce section is right by the entrance, so I always start there. The produce section at this store generally looks pretty good. But when I got to the little organics section in the middle, I was surprised to see it fully stocked. Usually it looks pretty picked over, with the middle pretty much empty.

Now, there are lots of aisles I generally skip and today was no exception. But there were still a bunch of changes that jumped out at me. In all the aisles I shopped, organic products were front and center. In some cases, the selection of organic products had increased. I brought home a couple new things to try and I'm so thankful they were available. I was stunned, however, in the aisle where I used to frown at the puny bags of dry beans. Not only are the dry beans now available in larger quantities, but also in a much wider variety! (Rice too, I think, although I was so amazed by the bean selection that I sort of drooled over them until it became awkward and then I scurried away to finish my shopping.)

For the first time that I can recall, I was able to buy fresh, wild-caught salmon in exactly the amount I needed. And while I didn't need milk today, I did notice that the organic milk case was fully stocked.

I can't claim that my one little email brought about these changes at my local store. And it probably didn't hurt that CNN linked to my blog a week after I posted my rant. But people, somebody is listening. So when you can't find real foods to feed your family at your local store, fire off an email and let them know. Post about it on your blog because these corporations employ software that pours through social media searching for what people are saying about them. I know they do because they trolled my blog after my rant.

Speak up. They're listening.

This post is a part of Fight Back Friday hosted by Food Renegade.

Clarifying Food Goals

When I started down the real foods path I had no idea what I was getting myself into. On the surface, it sounded pretty simple. Stop buying processed crap and replace that with natural whole foods. No problem. Well, let me tell you, ignorance truly is bliss.

Anti-nutrients? Phytic acid? SCOBY? Find a local farmer and grill him on pasture raising animals and organic practices. Learn to ferment foods. Learn to like fermented foods. Learn to freaking plan ahead.

Making a commitment to a real foods diet requires not just an ideological shift, but also an actual lifestyle change. It requires more time in the kitchen, at least initially and probably long term. It requires significant changes to one's shopping habits and significant up-front research time devoted to locating real foods. And it requires an ongoing food ethics conversation, even if that conversation takes place only in your own mind.

I have found myself debating the ethics of potential food choices from several angles. Produce is pretty easy. Is it organic? If it's not organic, is it one of the less-sprayed options? Is it local or relatively local? If it's not organic and not local is there something I could substitute?

Meat, however, has caused me some serious mental wrangling. My family eats meat and it doesn't look like that's going to change. I've been vegetarian and it's not for me. My kids have the option, but neither of them seem inclined that way. So, I try to make the best meat-buying decisions I can. And it's not that easy. Local pastured meat is pretty expensive. At least twice, and often three or four times, as expensive as grocery store meat. We have cut waaaay back on our meat consumption (and it was never as high as the "average") lately in order to be able to afford to purchase local, pastured meat. And while I am happy to support local farmers raising animals ethically, I am also more than a little pissed off that the values of the society in which I live have become so skewed that choosing to eat ethically equates to taking a financial hit for those of us who are not in a position to raise all our own food (which, I suspect, is most of us). Shouldn't the norm be ethical eating standards? If it was the norm, perhaps we could all afford to eat ethically.

And then, of course, there's the "eat local" dilemma. At this point in my food journey, I'm shooting for an 80/20 solution. If I can purchase 80% of my family's food from local sources, I'll be happy. There are just certain things I don't see myself giving up. For example, I live on the East Coast and have access to some relatively local seafood. But not Pacific wild-caught salmon. I'm not going to buy farm-raised salmon, so I'll continue to purchase the flown-in variety. And while I can grow and save my most-used spices and seasonings (basil, oregano, and garlic in my kitchen), there are plenty that are not produced locally that I don't see giving up (salt, pepper, vanilla...). I think I will eventually be able to procure more than 80% of my family's food locally; but for now, that's a number I can live with.

For me, the result of these mental food wranglings has been the slowly emerging outline of my personal food values.

1. My family's health and nutrition is foremost. So this translates into an emphasis on nutrient dense whole foods produced without harmful pesticides or other contaminants.

2. By necessity, my budget needs to come in second. But to stay in line with my first priority, this really translates into two possibilities: find less expensive foods that meet the above rule, or reduce our overall consumption. So far, I've done a little of both.

3. My next priority is to purchase local foods in keeping with the first two rules. I do this, incorporating my 80/20 philosophy on the matter. But another part of the "buy local" idea, for me, is to lobby for greater access to local foods. I've been back and forth in my mind about the role of grocery stores in the real foods/local foods movement. But I know for sure that my life would be simpler right now if I had greater access to local, ethically produced foods in my grocery store.

4. My last priority, due primarily to time constraints (but also, somewhat, to budget constraints) is to practice ways of food preparation that allow for optimal nutrient utilization. Mastering these new (to me) techniques is a huge time sink. For now, I can only test the waters and hope to slowly develop competence.

I'm sure other people's priority lists would be different from mine. And I'm sure I left out some important considerations. But for now, I'm comfortable with the way my ideas about food are evolving. This is where I'm at right now. Where are you?

This post is a part of Fight Back Friday, hosted by Food Renegade.

The Trouble With Transition

As this post is my entry in Fight Back Friday (generously hosted by Food Renegade), I feel I should warn you that it is written from the position of one who is shaken. If you conjure in your mind the image of a scrawny kid being suspended in the air by a hulking bully, the scrawny kid swinging like mad even though he knows he's about to be pummeled- that scrawny kid is at the point where I feel like I am today.

I shouldn't complain. Because relatively speaking, my family is doing pretty well shifting to a real foods diet. My problem is three-fold: I'm simultaneously shifting to eating real food and learning how to prepare real food, the local foods available to me right now are limited in scope and prohibitively expensive, and I can't afford screw-ups.

Because I never learned how to cook with real foods (with a few exceptions), I don't have a bank of tried-and-true recipes to substitute real foods into. So, every night's dinner is a game of chance. Last night I lost. Again. On the upside, I learned that nobody in my family likes scallops- except the dogs, who like them lots thankyouverymuch. On the downside, dinner's failure left us hungry and unsettled since nobody wanted any more fruit and there aren't any prepared snacks in the house. I need fallback possibilities! It probably sounds dumb to those who've been at this a while. But in my household, every ounce of my time is fought over by the myriad things to be done. I need to learn things that can be done cheap and fast that will be healthy and filling. And don't involve eggs or bacon, since I'm the only one who will eat them. *sigh* How do other single parents make this transition?

I'd really like to buy more local foods. But doing so presents a real dilemma for me. For example, I have in my freezer one .70lb local, grass-fed bison steak. It was $13.99/lb, so my steak cost me $9.79. I am terrified to cook this thing. If I screw it up I will have to beat myself. Twelve ounces of local-ish bacon...$6.79. Local-ish grass-fed but non-raw milk is about $6/gallon. The butter is roughly $5 for half a pound. (And who the heck is buying the $22 pastured chickens?!) If the rest of my bills didn't add up to so much, I would happily pay these prices. But I can't very well stop heating the house, or paying my friggin' property taxes (for which, apparently, I get my driveway packed solid with plowed snow).

Perhaps the most discouraging thing to me right now is the screw-ups. I know this is part of the learning curve. But I so can't afford it. I took a chance on the scallops. They were on sale. I love it when I can buy shrimp on sale. They keep well in the freezer, everybody likes them, and I know what to do with them. Seafood is so good for you, I was hoping to expand the offerings a little. But no. Even at the sale price, that loss stings. Recently, I even screwed up one of my old stand-bys- beef stew! How I managed I do not know. But I do know that $10 of local beef were in that pot and it was absolutely inedible. Surely this is one of the reasons the family cook fell for standardized industrial foods! I don't want to go back to that life, but ooh, the pain of transition.

You're probably wondering, by this point, what's up with the picture at the top of this post. That's what I miss. I miss my garden being open for business. I miss knowing that if I screw-up dinner, I can run out back and come back with a full meal in no time. I miss my garden being full of things I know how to cook (admittedly, because I don't actually have to cook most of what comes out of my garden).

My plan is to keep swinging and hoping not to get pummeled. I would welcome advice from those who have gone before me on this journey. What recipes do you fall back on? What real food snacks are popular at your house? How do you stretch the expensive ingredients? Enlighten me. Please!

Real Food Gardening Basics

This is the first in a series of articles I am developing on the gardening aspects of real food. These articles are the abbreviated version of what may become an ebook. If you might be interested in such an ebook, please email me here and I'll let you know when it's available.

Soil

Food plants grow in soil. Understanding what soil is and how it contributes to food is important for anyone who eats, and especially important for anyone who endeavors to eat real food.

What is soil?

For the purposes of this article, we’re really talking about topsoil. Topsoil is a mix of solids, liquids, and gases in the form of minerals, organic matter, water, and air. The composition of topsoil changes constantly. Water runs in and out and evaporates. Organic matter breaks down and is used up. Healthy topsoil is dynamic.

In addition to these basic ingredients, topsoil is home to vast numbers of living organisms. Some such as moles, earthworms, and insect larvae, are easy to see with the naked eye. But most of the organisms in soil are microorganisms. They include organisms such as fungi, bacteria, and nematodes.

We’ll learn more about the organic aspects of soil when we get to the Compost article. But in the mean time, it is important to understand that all the parts of the soil serve special functions. If you consider the question “Which makes music, the musician or the instrument?” you’ll see that it’s not one or the other- they must work together to make music. I hope to show you how healthy soil is similar. Healthy plants are the product of healthy soils where all the parts are working together.

Soil solids

Soil solids include both mineral and organic matter. They provide the bulk of soil and the medium that holds water and air where plant roots can reach them.

Mineral solids include rocks, sand, silt, and clay and makes up roughly 45% of optimal topsoil. A soil’s texture describes the proportion of specific mineral solids in the soil.

Soil that is predominantly clay is often referred to as “heavy” soil. These soils retain a lot of water and are generally high in nutrients. However, the particles are packed close together leaving little room for air. Clay soils feel slippery or sticky when wet and can bake solid, and even crack, when dry. Amending clay soils will improve water drainage, allow for better root penetration, and improve the soil’s ability to support microorganisms.

The “solution” to clay-heavy soil is to add composted organic matter. Recommended amounts range from 3-8” inches deep across the surface area you intend to plant. This composted material should be dug or tilled into the top several inches of soil; however, going deeper than a shovel’s depth is not necessary.

Soil that is predominantly sand feels gritty and has low water- and nutrient-holding capacities. Sandy soil has the opposite problem from clay soil in that the spaces between the sand grains are too large, allowing water to drain away too quickly and offering little stability or nourishment for plant roots. Amending sandy soils will improve water retention and increase nutrient content.

The solution to sand-heavy soil is the same as for clay-heavy soil: composted organic matter. However, because sandy soil has little nutritive value of its own and poor particle adherence, a greater quantity of compost must be added over a longer period of time. Planning to incorporate a 2-3” depth of compost across the surface area you intend to garden, applied 3-4 times a couple weeks apart might be a good guide. It’s a lot of work up front; but after the initial garden building, maintenance should be pretty simple and pain-free.

Silty soil feels silky like fine ground powder or flour when dry and slippery when wet. Similar to clay soils, silty soil has small pore size and poor drainage. On the soil particle size spectrum, silt tends to fall between the super small size of clay particles and the relatively large size of sand particles. Silty soils are improved by the addition of compost; however, smaller quantities are generally needed than for either clay or sandy soils.

Organic matter soil solids include humus, biomass, and residues and by-products. Humus is organic matter that has completed the composting process and become stable. It is a complex and not yet fully understood substance, yet is vitally important to both soil structure and health. One primary function of humus is water retention. Biomass refers to the living aspect of soil and includes creatures ranging in size from microscopic bacteria to soil-dwelling vertebrates such as moles. The organisms that comprise biomass are responsible for breaking down residues and improving soil structure by creating tunnels that allow water movement and oxygen transport underground. Residues include un-decomposed dead plant material and creature corpses. By-products are substances that some plants and soil creatures release into the soil. Residues and by-products provide nutrients and energy to soil organisms and help hold soil particles together in clumps. Compost produced in the garden is often a combination of these components.

Gardeners rarely have soil composed of only clay, sand, or silt. However, the relative proportions of these materials suggest whether or not a particular garden site needs to be amended to provide better soil structure and if so how. Soil with a good mix of clay, sand, silt, and organic material is called loam. Loam is the gardener’s goal.

Soil liquids

The liquid component of soil is called the soil solution and is composed of water and dissolved materials. The soil solution is where plants obtain nutrients. An important aspect of soil solution is pH.

pH is a scale from 0 to 14 that indicates whether a soil solution is neutral, acidic, or basic (alkaline). A neutral pH reading is 7. Acidic readings are less than 7, while basic readings are greater than 7. Most garden vegetables prefer a pH between 5.5 and 7.5, but it’s a good idea to consult a pH chart regarding the specific plants you intend to grow because, to a plant, that two point spread is sometimes pretty significant. Home pH test kits are available, but pH is also tested as a part of a regular soil test which would also provide information about nutrient content, as well as amendment recommendations. Some garden centers, and all extension agencies, can either provide you with a soil test or help you get one.

Soil air

The air in soil is pretty similar to atmospheric air, with the exception that soil air contains a bit higher concentration of carbon dioxide and a very slightly lower concentration of oxygen. One of the main reasons for this difference is that the soil is teeming with living creatures that take in oxygen and release carbon dioxide. Because oxygen moves into the soil and carbon dioxide moves out of the soil through tiny pores, the exchange happens somewhat slower than the conversion taking place in the soil. Plants adapted to growing on well-drained soil also require oxygen for their roots to survive.

 

Why do I need to know this?

Gardeners need at least a basic understanding of the components and workings of the soil because soil is plants’ life support system and every change humans make to the soil affects the health and productivity of the soil and the organisms dependent upon it. Humans are one of those dependent organisms. Most foods humans eat can be traced back to the soil, with the partial exception of things like seafood (although it’s all connected, thanks to nifty things like the water cycle and erosion).

Next up… More on soil tests and composting…

This post is my entry for today's Fight Back Friday hosted by Food Renegade.