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Failure to Cultivate: A Response to Caitlin Flanagan on School Gardens

Posted on January 13, 2010 by Kurt Michael Friese — No Comments ↓

Not sure how many of you saw, but recently in the Atlantic there was a scathing commentary by Caitlin Flanagan condemning school gardens. NOURISH Evolution Contributor, Kurt Michael Friese, wrote a beautiful rebuttal on Civil Eats (a worthy site to visit for anyone who wants to explore sustainable agriculture and food systems and how they shape our world), and was kind enough to share it with us here. Thank you, Kurt!

In the latest edition of The Atlantic magazine, Caitlin Flanagan has written a surprisingly harsh critique of the popular and growing movement to include gardens in our public schools. In a nutshell, she states that pursuing this activity over and above the three R’s will turn our children into illiterate sharecroppers. Right from the start, though, she gets it wrong.

She has the reader picture the son of undocumented migrant workers entering his first day at Martin Luther King Middle School in Berkeley, home of the well-known Edible Schoolyard project, “where he stoops under the hot sun and begins to pick lettuce.” Her callous disrespect for labor only begins there, but the real problem with her argument lies in her stubborn refusal to accept that a good idea may have sprouted from an ideology other than her own. She goes so far as to describe it as:

…A vacuous if well-meaning ideology that is responsible for robbing an increasing number of American schoolchildren of hours they might other wise have spent reading important books or learning higher math (attaining the cultural achievements, in other words, that have lifted uncounted generations of human beings out of the desperate daily scrabble to wrest sustenance from dirt)

Ms. Flanagan has chosen to ignore the core purposes of these gardens, only one of which happens to be cultivating a respect for hard work, and only one other of which is a healthy respect for real food. While she notes that the work of the garden has migrated into each of the classrooms, she ignores the obvious point that this demonstrates: There is nothing taught in schools that cannot be learned in a garden. Math and science to be sure, but also history, civics, logic, art, literature, music, and the birds and the bees both literally and figuratively. Beyond that though, in a garden a student learns responsibility, teamwork, citizenship, sustainability, and respect for nature, for others, and for themselves.

The disdain for the left-of-center viewpoints of those who started the Edible Schoolyard is evidenced in her description of Chez Panisse, the restaurant of Edible Schoolyard’s founder Alice Waters, as “an eatery where the right-on, ‘yes we can,’ ACORN-loving, public-option-supporting man or woman of the people can tuck into a nice table d’hôte menu of scallops, guinea hen, and tarte tatin for a modest 95 clams—wine, tax, and oppressively sanctimonious and relentlessly conversation-busting service not included.” Flanagan’s attempt at snob-bashing populism and appeal toward the sensitivities of those on the right is misplaced, however, because these school garden ideas, while begun in this particular case by those with left-leaning tendencies, actually hold appeal across the political spectrum. They not only encompass a love of nature and the kind of touchy-feely sensitivities that give conservatives the willies, but also the bedrock principles of tradition and ownership and self-reliance that would be equally at home at a hippie commune or a tea party rally.

While it is rightly noted that the grades at the school quickly improved, the contention that “a recipe is much easier to write than a coherent paragraph on The Crucible” is not only insulting to professional chefs and food writers (like, well, me), but also is patently false. There is a world of difference between writing a recipe and writing one well, as anyone who as ever come across the words “but first” in a recipe will attest. The more important point though is the one that Flanagan glosses over: that the passion for learning developed in a garden, driven home by the lightening-bolt of awareness when a kid bites into a vine-ripened tomato she grew herself, is worth essays on ten plays even if Arthur Miller or Shakespeare wrote them all.

Where the argument really goes off the rails though is when Ms Flanagan posits:

Does the immigrant farm worker dream that his child will learn to enjoy manual labor, or that his child will be freed from it? What is the goal of an education, of what we once called “book learning”? These are questions best left unasked when it comes to the gardens.

Not “enjoy,” Ms, Flanagan, respect. This, as I mentioned, is where her disdain for manual labor, something that everyone on the planet (beneath the upper 2% or so of income earners) contends with every day, becomes instructive. It is predicated on the idea that labor is something to be freed from, ostensibly through strict adherence to “book learning.” Worse, it perpetuates the misguided dogma of the last several decades that distances us from our food and insists that cooking is a chore, like washing laundry or windows, which should be avoided at all costs as if it were beneath us. This in turn not only makes her seem elitist herself, but also leaves Ms. Flanagan’s ideas of education as merely a means to create consumers, rather than citizens.

What follows in the essay is a misuse of statistics that boggles the mind, where she blames a decline in math and English among Latinos at MLK on the gardens. In legal-ese (and Latin) this is referred to as a Post hoc ergo propter hoc argument, “It follows therefore was caused by.” Another example of this would be that since all addicts were once babies, then mother’s milk leads to heroin addiction.

This is followed up by an argument that the rampant increase in childhood obesity and early-onset diabetes is not caused by a lack of access to healthy food nor the prevalence of sugary, fat laden food in schools. Rather she cites, ironically, George Orwell, to argue that it’s because poor people prefer that food. Please. And for the record, her research into two grocery stores in Compton as proof that poverty and food deserts do not go hand-in-hand is blindingly shortsighted.

There are more errors of reason, but let me cut to the chase. Ms. Flanagan sums up by saying this:

(W)e become complicit— through our best intentions—in an act of theft that will not only contribute to the creation of a permanent, uneducated underclass but will rob that group of the very force necessary to change its fate. The state, which failed these students as children and adolescents, will have to shoulder them in adulthood, for it will have created not a generation of gentleman farmers but one of intellectual sharecroppers, whose fortunes depend on the largesse or political whim of their educated peers.

The belief that we will create better citizens by teaching to the test (an idea she advocates for repeatedly and vociferously) is one that will lead to a generation of closed-minded automatons incapable of learning, thinking, or fending for themselves. We are far better off with a generation of Citizens who understand that sustenance comes not from factories or laboratories but from the soil and from hard working hands, both of which deserve the respect garnered from experience. We need Citizens who are healthier than the generation before them; throughout most of human history the rich were fat and the poor were skinny, yet today in America it is quite the opposite. Fixing that requires direct experience and interaction with our food, something no schoolroom lecture can provide.

This is not advocacy for some weird Maoist Great Leap Forward where everyone must leave the cities and go farm. It is knowledge of one of the truest clichés known: You are what you eat. And as one of Ms. Flanagan’s carefully-book-taught computer programmers would point out, Garbage In – Garbage Out.

Kurt Michael Friese is the founding leader of Slow Food Iowa, serves on the Slow Food USA National Board of Directors, and is editor and publisher of the local food magazine Edible Iowa River Valley. He’s also Chef and co-owner of the Iowa City restaurant Devotay, a freelance food writer and photographer, and author of A Cook’s Journey: Slow Food in the Heartland.

Where’s Your Beef Been?

Posted on December 18, 2009 by Kurt Michael Friese — 6 Comments ↓

It used to be simple. You’d hear “Beef: It’s what’s for dinner®,” grab a steak, a roast or some burger, cook it and eat it. No questions, no fuss. But then different messages started cropping up. Things like “beef can make you sick,” “you can catch mad cow,” “cattle ranches cause global warming” and “have you seen the way those cows live?” Suddenly a seed of concern and confusion is planted, about how the beef you’re eating affects the health of your family, the health of the earth.

To complicate things further, once you do start to dig deeper into what’s really on your plate you find a morass of terms and labels and legal definitions. Does “natural” mean the same thing as “organic?” (uh uh) Does “grass fed” mean happy cows in a bucolic field in Iowa? (nope again). Here’s a guide (in alphabetical order) to understanding the jargon so that you can decide what’s for dinner.

All-Natural (or just “Natural”) – An almost meaningless term when applied to meat, “natural” legally refers to any unprocessed (and now even some processed) cut of meat. The animal may have been confined, fed GMOs (see below), hormones, animal by-products, etc. and still legally bear the label “natural.” Then again, it may have been raised in an idyllic setting roaming free on the prairie. The issue with this term is that you just don’t know what you’re getting by label alone.

Animal Welfare Approved – Stringent rules set forth by the Animal Welfare Institute (an independent, non-governmental agency) guarantee that farm animals are raised in healthy, natural, outdoor environments where they can forage and raise their young the way they were meant to. Hormone and sub-therapeutic antibiotic (see below) use is not allowed.

Corn Fed – The vast majority of cattle in this country are raised on corn. They spend their young lives on pasture, but are soon transferred to Confined Animal Feeding Operations (CAFOs) where they are fattened on corn and soy. The main downside to this is that as ruminant animals (a species of grazing animal whose stomach is divided into four components to allow it to digest grasses and the like), cows aren’t designed to digest corn, which leads to health problems that require antibiotic and hormone use to control. The population density, also, contributes to both ecological and health issues.

GMO (genetically modified organism) – A useful term to know for this discussion because most “conventional” beef is fed a diet of GMO corn and soy, despite the fact that the jury is still out on the political, social, health, environmental and economic impacts of GMOs (more, much more, on the GMO discussion later here on NOURISH Evolution). GMOs are not permitted in organic beef and they have been banned in the EU.

Grass Fed – In 2007 the USDA established a standard definition for the “grass fed” claim, which requires “continuous access to pasture” and prevents animals from being fed grain or grain-based products. It was a good start. Now reinforcement is the challenge.

Grass or Pasture Finished – This term is more about the end of a cow’s life than how it was raised. Grass-finished cattle may have been raised on grain, but put to pasture for a short time before slaughter. There are benefits, though; some studies have shown that allowing two weeks on pasture right before slaughter can cause a cow to shed 90% or more of the harmful e Coli in its digestive tract, reducing the likelihood of infected meat.

No Hormones or Antibiotics – Cows consume 70% of the antibiotics in the US, most of it in their feed, which means they get the drugs whether they need them or not. This can lead to serious problems with antibiotic resistance in cows and humans alike, as well as potential contamination of groundwater. Claims of “no sub-therapeutic antibiotics” mean that cows get antibiotics only if they’re sick, as opposed to as a preventative. As for hormones, Major League Baseball has stricter bans on them than our food system does. They’re used for similar reasons in both cases, though; to get bigger and stronger faster, often putting health in peril.

Organic –Foods that carry the USDA Organic label can, for the most part, be presumed free of GMOs and artificial chemical inputs (like antibiotics and hormones). But chinks are showing in the label’s armor. Many processed foods can carry some ingredients that are not organic, and beef and dairy cattle can be raised in confinement on grain and still be labeled organic. The legal definition still protects consumers, but it is moving further and further from the philosophy that first spawned the term.

Labels are meant to be helpful, but oftentimes—as you can see—they bring more confusion than clarity. One of the best ways to be sure of what you’re getting is to know who’s raising it. Then, if you have a question, all you have to do is ask. Check out the discussion in the Eco Bites group on Sourcing Sustainable Beef for more.

Kurt Michael Friese is the founding leader of Slow Food Iowa, serves on the Slow Food USA National Board of Directors, and is editor and publisher of the local food magazine Edible Iowa River Valley. He’s also chef and co-owner of the Iowa City restaurant Devotay, a freelance food writer and photographer, and author of A Cook’s Journey: Slow Food in the Heartland.

Prime Rib of Beef Au Jus

Posted on December 18, 2009 by Kurt Michael Friese — No Comments ↓

By Kurt Michael Friese

Nothing is more impressive on a holiday table than a roast prime rib of beef. Ask your butcher to prepare a 12-pound prime rib roast, with the fat cap left on and bones left in.

12-pound bone-in prime rib roast
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons chopped garlic
coarse salt and freshly cracked black pepper to taste
1 cup chopped onion
1/2 cup chopped celery
1/2 cup chopped carrot
3 sprigs fresh thyme (or 1/2 teaspoon dried)
2 cups beef stock

Preheat your oven to 325.

Rub the ends of the roast with the olive oil, then firmly massage the garlic, salt and pepper into the top (the fat cap) of the roast. Nestle it in a large roasting pan, at least 2 inches deep, and place in the center of the oven. Roast for 2-3 hours, basting with the accumulated fat every half hour. At one hour in, add the chopped vegetables to the pan with the thyme and stir to combine with the drippings.

At about 2 hours, check the internal temperature by sticking an instant read thermometer into the center of the thickest part of the roast (Once a roast reaches 100 the temperature will wise at an accelerated rate, so check every 10 minutes or so. Try to use the same hole each time, as poking it in many places allows more juices to escape).

When the internal temperature has reached 120, remove from the oven. Move the roast to a carving block and cover with foil or an inverted pot and allow to rest for about 30 minutes. This allows the meat to relax, the juices to redistribute, and makes for an even medium rare as the residual heat raises the internal temperature to 125-130.

Strain off and reserve about 2 tablespoons of fat from the pan (for the Yorkshire Pudding) and increase oven temperature to 425. Meanwhile, place the roasting pan with the vegetables over medium heat on the stove and add the beef stock. Bring to a simmer for 10 minutes the strain, reserving the jus. Taste for salt, adjust and serve.

Yorkshire Pudding

2 eggs
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/4 cups flour
1 cup milk
2 tablespoons roast beef fat or lard
3 tablespoons cold water

An hour in advance: Whisk eggs with the salt until frothy. Mix in the flour, whisking constantly. Add the milk in a thin stream and beat until the mixture is smooth. Chill for an hour.

Preheat the oven to 425.

In a 12×9 casserole, heat the beef fat or lard on the stovetop until it sizzles. Beat the batter once more, adding the cold water. Pour into the sizzling fat and bake on the top shelf of the oven for 15 minutes. Rotate the dish, lower the heat to 400, and cook an additional 15 minutes. It should be well risen, crisp, and brown. Serve very hot with Prime Rib of Beef Au Jus.

Serves 12-16

Grandma Friese’s Whole Cranberries

Posted on November 17, 2009 by Kurt Michael Friese — 4 Comments ↓

By Kurt Friese

Grandma was famous in our family for writing out recipes that began with things like “Take a bottle of cream…” without any indication, for those of us who grew up in the post-milkman era, what the size of a “bottle” might be. And that’s the way this recipe was originally handed down to me. She used to make these cranberries way ahead of time and let them ferment; they have quite a kick.

1 cup water
2 cups port wine, divided
1 cup raw sugar
2 cinnamon sticks
1 tablespoon lemon zest (cut into long strips)
1 pound whole cranberries

Mix together water, 1 cup wine, sugar, cinnamon sticks and lemon zest in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil for 10 minutes. Add the cranberries, reduce heat to medium-low and cook for 8-10 minutes, just until cranberries are bursting. Add remaining cup of wine, let cool and store in a sealed container for at least a day before serving.

Makes 2-1/2 cups

Le Beaujolais Nouveau Est Arrive

Posted on November 17, 2009 by Kurt Michael Friese — 1 Comment ↓

This time of year, it’s tough to miss the signs . . . Le Beaujolais Nouveau Est Arrive! Is it just hype or should we hail the call? Kurt Michael Friese sheds some light on the matter.

Beaujolais is a region nestled between Burgundy and the Rhone just north of Lyon that’s known for their wines of the same name. Made exclusively from the Gamay grape, Beaujolais is a simple, fruit-forward wine (for France anyway) with high acidity and is broken down into three designations. Roughly half the production goes by the basic appellation of Beaujolais. A step up are the wines known as Beaujolais-Villages, which are grown in the hillier northern region. At the top, also coming from those Northern hills but named after ten villages which have earned their own appellations, are the Cru Beaujolais.

But hands-down the Beaujolais Americans know best is le Beaujolais Nouveau–a name coined by negociant George Duboeuf for youthful wine from any appellation in the region.

bn-post Despite its high profile, the history of Beaujolais Nouveau is not entirely novel; winemakers in the area have always produced a “vin de l’anee” (this year’s wine) shortly after harvest as a way to evaluate the quality of the vintage. In the 19^th century, in fact, the harvest and the wines were often heralded by the bistros in Lyon with signs proclaiming “Le Beaujolais Est Arrive.” But it all got taken up a notch in 1985 when the Institute National des Appellations d’Origine, lobbied by Duboeuf and other wine purveyors as a way to capitalize on weekend sales, set the third Thursday of November as the official release date for Beaujolais Nouveau.

Throughout the late 1980s and 90s, the date was highly hyped, with cases being shipped around the world and held in special bonded warehouses until one minute after midnight when they could be released. And there were stunts too: wine being delivered by helicopter, balloon, even by elephant. In the United States, Beaujolais Nouveau has been tied by Madison Avenue to the Thanksgiving meal and is said to be the perfect wine to go with roast turkey, stuffing, and grandma’s green bean casserole. Pessimists counter that it’s the perfect wine for the winemakers’ cash flow, and there’s a nugget of truth to both.

Beaujolais Nouveau can be a perfectly delightful wine. Fresh and fruity, light and “easy to drink,” it is a fun and frolicking dash through the park on a sunny autumn day. There are many producers, some even in the US now, but I prefer the Beaujolais Nouveau provided by French négociant Mommesin. A typical description might read something like “very aromatic, offering raspberry with notes of ripe banana and Juicy-Fruit gum. The flavor is tart raspberry with moderate acidity and a hint of tannin.”

So by all means get in on the fun and enjoy a glass with your friends. Just remember that on your holiday table, the best wine is the wine you like best when surrounded by family, friends, and wonderful food.

Gratitude

Posted on November 5, 2009 by Kurt Michael Friese — 12 Comments ↓

By Kurt Michael Friese

Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others. ~Cicero

Celebrations of the harvest have existed for as long as civilization, for indeed it was agriculture that necessitated both. But Thanksgiving is a uniquely American holiday; a celebration of the bounty shared by the native inhabitants of this land with foreign pilgrims. While Judeo-Christian prayers before a meal give thanks to God and Native Americans thank the very animal on which they feast, each are also a recognition of our own place in the world.

Giving gratitude for the bounty we enjoy demonstrates respect not only for nature and God, but for ourselves as well. And so, while gratitude should be acknowledged, felt, and practiced every day, we set aside one particular day each fall to celebrate the harvest and pay special attention to that which makes it possible for us to do everything else we do in this life. To recognize that food transforms us even as it is transformed into us.

The food that says Thanksgiving to me is my mother’s wild rice dressing which, in my own version, gives nod to those historic Native Americans. I never thought my mom’s recipe could be improved upon until I discovered the magnificent flavors of real Manoomin wild rice, hand harvested and parched on the lakes near Ponsford, Minnesota by members of the Ojibwe Nation. This is truly wild wild rice, far more flavorful, nutritious and surprisingly quick-cooking than the California-grown “paddy rice” that is commonly marketed as wild rice (In fact, a common Ojibwe joke on the White Earth reservation goes something like this: “How to cook paddy rice: put the rice in a large pot with a stone and plenty of water. Bring to a boil. When the stone is soft, the rice is almost done.”)

On Thanksgiving and every day, I am thankful for my family more than anything else, for they are my true source of sustenance and joy. I am thankful for my awareness of the importance and impact of my food. I am thankful for crisp autumn mornings and rain and my dogs. I am thankful that I am still on the right side of the grass.

And bacon. I am very thankful for bacon.

Next time you eat, whether around a sumptuous table or alone in the kitchen with that leftover turkey sandwich, stop for just a moment to consider what you’re truly thankful for.

Chef Kurt’s Mom’s Wild Rice Dressing

Posted on November 5, 2009 by Kurt Michael Friese — 4 Comments ↓

by Kurt Michael Friese

The spirit of the harvest season, the richness of my mother’s kitchen and an acknowledgment of my Heartland roots, all brought together in one enameled, cast iron casserole.

wild-rice-dressing-recipe
1 pound Manoomin wild rice, washed three times in cold water (if using “plain” wild rice, forgo the rinsing)
4 tablespoons butter
1 pound pork sausage
4 cups chicken broth
2 portobello mushrooms or about 10 cremini mushrooms, diced
1/2 onion, minced
1 tablespoon parsley, chopped
1 stalk celery, diced
1 teaspoon fresh thyme
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 350.

Boil rice in broth for 20 minutes (if using wild rice other than Manoomin, follow package directions).

Melt butter over medium heat in an enameled, cast iron casserole and brown pork for 8-10 minutes, breaking up with a spatula as it cooks. Add broth, mushrooms, onion, parsley, celery and thyme. Season with salt and pepper and simmer for 10 minutes. Then mix in rice (and any broth left over from cooking), cover and bake for 20 minutes. Uncover and continue to bake for 10 more minutes, until dressing has got a bit of a crust on top.

Serve immediately or cool and freeze.

Serves 8

Stalking the Wild Chile: A Pepper Primer

Posted on October 15, 2009 by Kurt Michael Friese — 12 Comments ↓

Under the ever-changing Sonora Desert sky, straddling the Arizona-Mexico border, an unassuming little fruit called the chiltepin pepper has kept cool in the shade of cliff sides for millennia. And while it thrives in these protected enclaves of the high desert, it packs heat matched only by the noonday sun.

chile-vignette Last week I set out with friends to find the people who harvest the wild chiltepin and to sample its uses among the descendants of those who first picked the tiny berries thousands of years ago. We traveled south from Sonoita, Arizona across the border at Nogales to the tiny town of Magdalena, where the church of Santa Maria de Magdalena was holding its annual festival to celebrate the harvest. Just as many of these festivals have become north of the border, this one too has devolved over the years into a bizarre combination of sacred and profane. Nevertheless, thousands descend upon the little village every year for the food and the spectacle surrounding the humble little chile.

We met farmers who were trying to cultivate this wild capsicum, and while they have successfully raised some very tasty, very hot chiles, they are not – strictly speaking – chiltepin. This is due in part to the promiscuous tendency of the entire capsicum genus to crossbreed when given the opportunity, which the chiltepin does when brought in from the wild. This scarcity along with a powerful punch and piquant flavor makes the chiltepin prized among chileheads (of which I am one), but it’s also why you’re unlikely to find it in the typical grocery store produce section.

What you will find in today’s markets, however, is a far greater range than even five years ago. Where once the cook with a passion for the endorphin rush of capsaicin (the chemical in chiles that produces the burning sensation) might find only the ubiquitous jalapeño at any given grocery store, today most will be able to find five or six varieties of fresh chiles, and even more in dried form. Each type varies in flavor and intensity and each have their own individual best uses.

Rating the Heat

All chiles are measured for heat intensity using something called the Scoville Heat Unit, which measures the amount of capsaicin present in a chile. A sweet bell pepper is a zero on this scale. At the other end sits the downright dangerous Indian chile called Bhutt Jolokia or Naga Jolokia (“death” or “ghost” pepper) at a little over one million SHU or roughly three to ten times hotter than a commercially available habañero. Our humble and elusive chiltepin? A respectable 100,000 SHU.

A Chile Pepper Primer

Poblano/Ancho (500 – 2.5K SHU) — These are the same pepper, with the poblano the fresh form and the ancho the dried version. Each is famous in the two most well-known dishes of their Mexican region of origin – Puebla. The poblano, like a meaty full-flavored bell pepper, is most often stuffed with cheese then battered and fried as a chile relleno. The ancho, with a deep chocolaty flavor and low-hum of heat, is a key ingredient (along with about two dozen other spices) in the intense sauce called mole (and yes you pronounce that last “e,” this is not a small rodent).

Pasilla (1K – 2K SHU) — A pasilla is the dried form of a chile chilaca, and is most commonly found either whole or powdered. Like its cousin, pasillas too are featured in moles from their native region of Oaxaca in Southern Mexico. Their flavor is deep and complex with a lingering tartness.

Jalapeño (2.5K-8K SHU) — The most ubiquitous fresh chile available in the US, the meaty, tapered jalapeño tops the heat scale for most consumers. Above here, you find mostly masochists and true connoisseurs (and sometimes they’re one and the same). This is the chile you’ll find, usually pickled and sliced, on top of your nachos at the local Mexican chain restaurant, but fresh they have a bright heat to them.

Serrano (10K – 23K SHU) — This is the first pepper that sits on the other side of that line drawn by the jalapeño. A touch hotter than the jalapeno, it has a distinct bite that gives way to nice, full flavor.

Chipotle (10K – 50K SHU) — A chipotle is the smoked and dried version of the jalapeño and can be found dry or packed in cans in a sauce called chile adobo. The regard for this one is on a steep rise in the US due in no small measure to the popularity of the burrito chain of the same name. They lend a sweet, smoky, full-flavored heat and are quite versatile in the kitchen, at home in anything from chili to vinaigrettes.

Cayenne (30K – 50K) — Cayenne is most commonly available in powdered form, where it packs plenty of heat but very little discernable flavor or character. It gets its name from the city in French Guiana.

Habañero/Scotch Bonnet (100,000 – 350,000 SHU) — These are not for amateurs. In fact even the most devoted chileheads are wary when approaching these bell-shaped beauties. They look like miniature bell peppers and come in a variety of colors, but don’t be fooled; they’re a very powerful heat source. If you get past the whopping, eye-watering bite, habanero’s finish is bright and tangy.

Taming the Heat

There are three ways to calm a chile’s intensity. First, remove the seeds; they are by far the hottest part of the chile. Second, you can temper the heat by dousing it in vinegar and a touch of sugar in a marinade, a sweet-sour salsa or a salad. Third, you can cook it; chiles are always hotter raw.

Once your mouth is afire there are varying opinions on the best method to douse the heat, but I’ve found that a combination of cold water and starchy food (like rice or bread) works best.

Remember to always wear gloves when handling hot chiles and wash your hands after handling them. Not doing so and then touching your eyes, nose (and, or shall we say certain other sensitive parts) is a lesson you will need only learn once.

Iowa City Chili

Posted on October 15, 2009 by Kurt Michael Friese — 3 Comments ↓

Recipe by Kurt Michael Friese | Photo by Lia Huber

There’s a chill in the air here in the Heartland, the kind of windy, rainy days that drill into your bones and create a hankerin’ for a rib-sticking bowl of chili. It’s also a great way to use up the last of your tomatoes and peppers, or to begin to use your new “puttin’ ups” (as my grandma used to call them).

chile-recipe

1 tablespoon olive oil
1-1/2 pounds lean ground beef
2 medium onions, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 medium green bell pepper, diced
1 medium red bell pepper, diced
1 cup corn kernels (frozen is fine)
2 hot peppers of your choice, fresh or dried, seeded and minced
4 tablespoons hot smoked Spanish paprika
3 cups cooked pinto beans
1 pint canned diced tomatoes
1 pint tomato puree
18 ounces dark beer (such as bock or stout)
4 tablespoons ground cumin
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

Heat olive oil in a large stockpot over medium-high heat. Sauté ground beef, onion and garlic with a pinch of salt and pepper for 10-12 minutes, until browned, breaking up meat as you stir. Add bell peppers, corn, and hot peppers. Continue to cook over medium heat until peppers are tender, about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add the remaining ingredients and gently bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer for 2-3 hours, then turn off heat and allow to cool before refrigerating. Reheat when ready to eat. Serve with grated cheese, chopped onions, corn bread, tortilla chips, or whatever accompaniments turn you on.

Serves 8

Time for Lunch

Posted on August 28, 2009 by Kurt Michael Friese — 6 Comments ↓

It seems I’m meant to talk about kids’ lunches right now. This past Tuesday, I did a segment on ABC-TV’s View from the Bay on making healthy lunches fun for kids. But even better than peanut butter banana spirals is the fact that, right now, we have an opportunity to be a part of re-framing the school lunch program in America. Here to tell us all about it and how we can get involved is one of our talented new Contributors, Kurt Michael Friese.

potluck-salads-post

Fifty-three years ago when President Truman signed the first School Lunch Act, he said at the ceremony that “In the long view, no nation is healthier than its children, or more prosperous than its farmers.” Yet today in America we have steadily rising rates of childhood obesity and early-onset diabetes, so much so that if you were born after 2000 you have a startling one-in-three chance of developing diabetes before you’re old enough to vote. If you’re a minority, that number rises to one-in-two. America, too, has more prisoners than farmers now, and among those few remaining the average age is 57 and rising. It seems America has failed President Truman’s vision in both the health of its children and the prosperity of its farmers. An interesting proposition: fewer farmers=less healthy food.

Yet we have the opportunity to better both sides of that equation. The Child Nutrition Act, the piece of legislation that governs what 30 million kids eat in school each day, is up for re-authorization and Slow Food USA has launched the Time for Lunch Campaign to bring about some needed change. Among the modifications they’re petitioning Congress to make are investing in healthy food (right now, schools are given roughly $1 day per student to spend on food); protecting against foods that are a proven risk to kids’ health; and fostering healthy eating habits that will last a lifetime, in part by getting kids and schools involved with local farms and gardens.

What you can do

• Sign the petition. If you want to voice your desire for change, sign Slow Food’s petition to get real food in schools. As of this writing, more than 13,000 people have signed.

• Go to an Eat-in. Think of an Eat-In as the marriage of the traditional picnic to the classic activism of the 1960’s Sit-Ins; this is old-fashioned activism with a hot dish to share. In all 50 states, local Slow Food members and friends of the organization have put together more than 280 grass-roots potluck picnics to occur simultaneously on September 7th, Labor Day. From Bellingham to Bay St. Louis, Carlsbad to Cambridge, people will gather with their friends and neighbors to show their support for getting real food in schools and everyone—whether or not you’re a Slow Food member—is welcome. Bring some food to share, preferably something homemade with local ingredients (for ideas on eco-friendly picnic ware, click here).

• Spread the word. If you do attend a sit-in, or even if you just want to help, tell people—post on Facebook, tweet, send an e-mail blast, start a conversation in the school parking lot—about the Eat-ins and the need to bring real food into our schools.

What is “real food?” you may ask. The answer is simple: real food is food that is and does good from the ground up. It’s good for the earth, it’s good for those who grow it, it’s good for our bodies, it tastes good and makes our community, country and planet a better place. As Truman alluded to all those years ago, real food grown by real people is essential for our health–as individuals, as families and as a nation.