Urgent: Save California’s Parks!

As you may have heard, Governor Schwarzenegger has proposed closing 220 of our state parks in order to reduce the state budget deficit. You can read more about this proposal and the threatened parks in the links below, but let me summarize by saying that it is a bad idea and one that has the potential to forever change California for the worse. Closing our state parks would cost California more in lost tourist revenue than it would provide in budget savings, it would endanger the health and safety of Californians by increasing fire risk and criminal activity within park boundaries, and it would deny us access to public land for low cost recreational and leisure purposes, when clearly such options are needed now more than ever.

Andrew Molera State Park

First off, the $143 million that state parks currently receive in funding is less than one-tenth of one percent of the entire state budget. According to the California Sate Park Foundation (CSPF), for every dollar that funds the parks, $2.35 is returned to the state's General Fund through economic activities in the communities surrounding the parks. California would lose $350 million in revenue should the proposed park closures be approved, money that would have otherwise been invested in local communities that depend on the parks for their economic prosperity. California’s appeal as a tourist destination depends largely on the beauty and diversity of its natural environment. With closed parks, tourists would be unable enjoy California’s natural beauty and would likely invest their tourist dollars elsewhere in the United States and abroad.

California parks are maintained and patrolled by dedicated park employees who manage to do a lot with few resources. If parks were to be closed, then facilities such as bathrooms, buildings of historical importance, and campsites would be degraded and damaged. Trails would be reclaimed by vegetation and dead timber and brush would build up and create a fire hazard. Fires, which occasionally occur in wilderness areas, seldom occur in existing parks because they are effectively managed. Individuals that continue to use parks after they have closed would exacerbate this fire risk. A single fire in one abandoned state park could quickly nullify any budget savings resulting from the proposed closure of 80% of our park system. We all know regular maintenance saves money, whether with a car, a house or a state park. Fire risk notwithstanding, if we let our parks close and decay we can expect that they will be very expensive to bring back into working order. Given that many don’t want to pay tax for the park services and facilities they currently use, it might prove politically challenging to reopen our parks in the future.

Garrapata State Park

State parks are the primary providers of convenient and affordable access to California’s stunning natural beauty. Our parks protect a variety of Californian ecosystems and provide habitat for plants and animals that have been displaced by human development and activity elsewhere. They also preserve California history by maintaining structures and artifacts, and operating museums that tell stories of California’s past. When a park closes it means that people who enjoy and wish to preserve and protect our natural spaces will be kept out, while others will see the lack of stewardship and management of our parks as an opportunity to engage in illegal activities such as poaching, squatting, and drug trafficking within their boundaries. Furthermore, many individuals in local communities are unlikely to accept the closure of their parks and will thereby risk being cited, fined, or imprisoned for continuing to use public land. Those who do obey the rules will find themselves living in a beautiful state with no access to its wonderful natural resources. Californians statewide will be forced to drive by state parks containing trials where they previously enjoyed hiking or biking, beaches where they swam, surfed and dove, rivers and lakes where they fished, and campsites where the spent the night under the stars.

Clearly, the governor’s proposal is not based on sound financial data, the health and safety of Californians and its visitors, an appreciation of nature, or a proper understanding of natural resource management. So let’s posit for a moment that the governor wants to close state parks in order to privatize them. Well, the facts line up perfectly with this hypothesis. Close the parks, let them decay and become areas of crime, scare the public and intervene with a major police operation in a high profile problem park, reap the political capital by appearing strong on crime, and then propose to sell our blighted state parks to developers to make room for hotels and luxury homes with beachfront, mountain, valley, lake or river views that now only the rich will enjoy. If one park were to fall to privatization, it will set a legal precedent that would facilitate the privatization of future parks that could result in the demise of our park system. That is the worst case scenario, though I do put my faith in others to join me to oppose the park closures that could set this ball rolling.

Point Lobos State Natural Reserve

One suggestion that would prevent our parks being closed is the implementation of a California State Park Access Pass which would provide all California residents unlimited access to all state parks via a fifteen dollar surcharge on vehicle license registration fees. This would provide an estimated $363 in annual net revenue for our state parks which is more than the $143 million they currently receive in funding from the General Fund, which is proposed to be cut by half through June 2010, and then eliminated entirely the following fiscal year. Not only will this provide significant additional funding to increase staffing and make needed park improvements, it would be a bargain for the public. With recent fees hikes, park users pay between six and eight dollars, and in some cases ten dollars a day for parking. Californians who visit state parks at least twice a year have received a benefit equal to or exceeding the fee paid for the California State Park Access Pass, and will save money with each additional visit they make.

Protecting our state parks is our responsibility, so please do your part and take fifteen minutes to write a letter, send a postcard, or call Governor Schwarzenegger, your state assemblyman, and your state senator to let them know how you feel about proposed park closures and to voice your support for the California State Park Access Pass as a solution to saving our parks. Below are the necessary links to facilitate your communication and provide you with more information on this vitally important issue. Note: the California state legislature will be voting to approve a budget soon, so it is important that you express your political will ASAP in order to influence their vote.

Click here for a map of proposed park closures and a list of California state assemblymen and senators to contact to protest the governor's proposal.

Click here to take action by donating to CSPF or to join the CSPF group on Facebook.

For more on the California State Park Access Pass, click here.

Fly Away

We all admire and even envy birds for their power of flight. Flight is synonymous with freedom, and it is only natural that we would want to escape our terrestrial jail. Though we may enjoy a bird’s eyes view of the world as we stare out the airplane window, we are limited in our destination and insulated from our environment.

Up to now, parachutes have allowed us to fall through the sky without dying on impact, and paragliding and hang gliding have permitted us to sail on the wind with minimal equipment. As it is unlikely that human beings will ever develop wings of their own, the wingsuit was created to bring us even closer to natural flight. Using the time-tested design of animals such as flying lizards and squirrels, these suits have revolutionized human flight, providing the daring (and perhaps crazy) with a new-found freedom and adrenaline rush.


Living la vida loca

While birds developed wings out of practical concerns: to escape danger, find food, and occupy hitherto inaccessible ecological niches, like people they also enjoy flying and are perhaps even proud of their unique talent. Let me offer two examples to support my case. Once, while at the beach, I happened upon some birds playing in the waves. The surf was up that day and the seagulls, hovering in the air and sitting in the water behind the surf zone, were taking turns dropping in on and gliding along the face of the ten foot plus waves, much as a surfer might, pulling out just before impact. They did this for the better part of an hour. I have seen this phenomenon before with dolphins and pelicans, but though dolphin play has been acknowledged, bird play has been largely ignored. Among the surfers of the world, where “surfer” means one who rides waves for fun, we can include birds and acknowledge that they are better at it than we are, effectively harnessing the air foil of the wave without ever wiping out.

The pride of birds became apparent to me when again on the beach, on a windy day, I watched the seagulls lift off and hang suspended a few feet off the ground supported by a strong headwind. It seemed to me that the look in their eyes was one of superiority, which seemed to say: Don’t you wish you could fly like me? Don’t you?




Feeling superior?

The latest wingsuit technology aside, the human desire for flight is nothing new. More than fun, it is an expression of our deep desire to escape the limits of our terrestrial habitat, natural laws such as gravity, and our own humanity. Like tourism, flight offers us an escape from our daily routine and the local politics of our communities. Like any sort of travel, distance allows us to reflect and gain perspective on our lives. On a deeper level, we wish to escape ourselves, or more precisely individual consciousness. After all, being conscious and desiring not to be is what makes us human.


For more on wingsuits, click here.
Check out this great video of wingsuit flying in Norway.
The flying squirrel, a prototype for human flight.

Archaeopteryx: A Prehistoric Rebel

Like most of my fellow students in elementary school, I went through a period of dinosaur infatuation. It was fantastic to discover, while learning cursive and the times table, that giant creatures had once inhabited the earth. To dream of dinosaurs and of oneself as a dinosaur was to free oneself of the helplessness of being a child forced to sit at a school desk, obey authoritarian adults, and eat in a civilized way at the dinner table. Dinosaurs provided a way out of the boring day-to-day routine of being a kid. Bill Watterson, in his seminal cartoon Calvin and Hobbes, was appreciative of the attraction of dinosaurs to imaginative children, drawing many strips of Calvin, like this one:










Because I was not alone in my infatuation, when my teacher taught her dinosaur lesson, the discipline problems ceased and were replaced by rapt attention and avid participation in all activities that shed more light on these prematurely-departed, enigmatic creatures. As a result of our studies, it was only logical that we developed preferences for certain dinosaurs. Girls generally liked the elegant and gentle Brontosaurus, while boys preferred the imposing Tyrannosaurus Rex. In particular, I liked Ankylosaurus, and later the more elusive Archaeopteryx.

Ankylosaurus appealed to me because, though a peaceful herbivore, he was armored like a tank and had a club for a tail. These defenses permitted Ankylosaurus to cultivate a mind-your-own-business and I’ll mind mine attitude that even the most formidable predator was ill-advised to ignore. In my own childhood Ankylosaurus fantasy, I would be trapped in the downtown of some major American city smashing through display windows and crushing cars with my deadly club, National Guard machine gun fire caroming off my back, in my escape from the municipal zoo. Though such ambition and violence was uncharacteristic for dim-witted Ankylosaurus, when threatened I felt certain he would defend his interests with passion.


Peaceful but prepared

For a childhood friend and I, dinosaur fever didn’t end with picture books, daydreams, and toy replicas. In the side yard of my house we started our own quarry where we would dig for hours after school. And to our surprise we made several important fossil discoveries. A femur here, a rib there, some toe bones, and then our greatest find: a skull from a yet to be recorded species. Of course, my parents indulged our obsession and humored our efforts. For what we had dug up with pick and shovel were chunks of leftover concrete that had be poured there along with gravel, etc. from the foundation and patio of the house.

The ability of children to transform a rules-based, constrained, and over-defined physical world into fantasy, entertainment, and invention is a unique talent that we as adults need to revive and incorporate into our lives. A return to this stage of guileless curiosity can provide us with relief from the frustration and suffering we experience daily and the cynicism and apathy that often overwhelm our thinking as a result. What children know, intuitively, is that illusions are essential to a healthy active mind, and that surprises and mystery are what we thirst after to save us from the limitations of a routine existence.

Unlike the popular and well-documented Ankylosaurus, Archaeopteryx was a creature of mystery; it did not readily appear in the dinosaur literature I devoured with enthusiasm from the local library, nor did any come in those packs of multicolored plastic dinosaurs with which we would stage our prehistoric battles in the sandbox. What I did read about Archaeopteryx was often contradictory and hypothetical. Scientific opinion was divided on whether it lived on the ground, in bushes or by the water, if it used it wings for gliding or active flight, and whether it ran and flew (“ground up” hypothesis) or climbed and flew (“trees down” hypothesis). Later I learned that the Archaeopteryx was the earliest universally recognized bird, and the discovery of a complete fossil in 1861 (two years after Charles Darwin published On the Origin of Species) made it a key piece of evidence in the debate over evolution. Because the Archaeopteryx had flight feathers, it was determined to be a transitional fossil between dinosaurs and birds. Though this was beyond the scope of our elementary school dinosaur lesson, what was fascinating to me as a child was the presence of a small bird-like creature in an ecosystem dominated by large terrestrial dinosaurs.

Archaeopteryx was truly an individual among its peers of the Jurassic Period. While petrosaurs where still flying with skin flap wings, Archaeopteryx was a prototypical bird that had survived by developing feathers before these became the standard of avian flight. Nevertheless, it was still not officially a “bird,” because it retained several reptilian characteristics including wing claws, a toothed beak, and a long vertebrate tail. In a world of creatures doomed to extinction, Archaeopteryx was a resourceful generalist that could thrive in different environments. The logic of Archaeopteryx evolution was this: Why remain on the ground when you can fly? Why not do both? Fly to escape danger and to reach other food sources, and use your claws and long legs to hunt on the ground. Though not thought to be a true ancestor of modern birds, Archaeopteryx is a close relative of that ancestor. There is something to be said for a rare and ancient creature that survived from the age of dinosaurs, through ancestors and descendants that include that crow outside your window.

As a kid, I though Archaeopteryx looked cool, and I liked the idea of having both claws and wings. I also admired how Archaeopteryx had created a unique hybrid identity by developing useful traits and discarding its dinosaur limitations. Though it may have been ignored, or considered a nuisance or occasional food source by the larger dinosaurs, Archaeopteryx had nonetheless hit upon an elegant solution to survival that its contemporaries had overlooked. What may have seemed ridiculous at first, the feather, turned out to be a revolutionary adaptation: one that continues to amaze and inspire the envy of modern humanity.


Archaeopteryx: A Prehistoric Rebel

What we can learn from Archaeopteryx is that unique ideas are seldom appreciated or adopted by the status quo, but that this need not be cause for despair. Contemporaries usually judge and treat harshly those who march to the beat of their own drummer and innovate where previous ideas have failed, are inadequate or altogether absent. People often criticize, mock and label what they don’t understand and consequently fear. While that is unfortunate, for those possessing the heroic audacity of Archaeopteryx, this need not be a hindrance, but an opportunity for progressive and successful adaptation to the changing demands of life.


Ankylosaurus takes on T-Rex in this video.
Click here for more on Archaeopteryx.

A Garden of One’s Own

It doesn’t get any more local than growing food in your own backyard and making everything by hand. Imagine how great it would be to have your own vegetable garden, fruit trees and livestock, and to make your own pasta, ice cream and beer. Still, I must admit that though I try to eat healthy and follow my own advice, there are certain foods I feel are best left to professionals to produce, pasta and ice cream falling into this category. While I have seen Italian women making ravioli by hand in a campground in Italy (I kid you not), I am not yet ready to be that hardcore about my food. And while I have helped an ex-girlfriend in Brazil make ice cream at her family’s house, I prefer to buy it ready on a stick. Home-brewed beer on the other hand is always worth a try; in spite of mixed results, I still have fond memories of making it with friends during college.

Though one could just as well prepare them by hand, in some cases it is more efficient to buy processed foods, provided they don’t contain harmful ingredients. I buy canned beans because I don’t have the foresight to soak dry beans, salsa because it costs the same or less than an equal weight of tomatoes, and hummus because I would either have to buy chickpeas canned, or soak them dry before preparing the hummus itself.

Though I may not be a back-to-the-farm purist, I like to know the origin, nature of preparation, and nutritional benefits of the food I eat. Meat-eaters, like myself, would gain valuable perspective over the slabs of shrink-wrapped flesh we poke at in the clinical lighting of the meat aisle if we witnessed, at least once, the slaughter and dressing of the mammals we eat. Similarly, if we observed the production of the processed foods we eat, we might question eating them at all. We also might see how we could make the food we enjoy healthier by preparing it ourselves.

While good cooking is an art form, it is also important to remember that we eat food for a reason: namely to provide our bodies with the nutrients they need to function. We need to put our preference for excessive salt, sugar and fat aside and learn to enjoy the complex and unique flavors of vegetables and fruit. We need to favor the inner nutritional value of food over its appearance.

Many of you, like me, may recall childhood memories of eating junk food and drinking soda, and college years spent surviving on instant noodles with the little MSG packet for flavor. Some of you may have also heard the urban legend about the student who contracted scurvy, due to a diet devoid of fruit and vegetables. Though this is an extreme case, many children and young adults in the United States do not receive enough nutrition in their daily diets. As a teacher I have noticed the effects of a poor diet of candy, cookies, chips and soda on young children; the sugar and caffeine high prevents them from sitting still or focusing their attention in class, while too much salt makes them irritable and hard to manage. While efforts have been made by government to ban junk food and soda vending machines in schools, and schools have tried to improve the nutritional value of their cafeteria menu, parents also bear the responsibility of providing kids with healthy food and snacks at home. In many cases, this requires that parents improve their own food culture and avoid the hazards of low-quality processed food and the temptation of convenience that the modern food industry promotes. One way to do this would be to plant a garden of one’s own and thereby gain hands-on experience with food production, while reaping a modest but healthy harvest of fresh fruits and vegetables.

When it comes to growing one’s own food one obviously needs a suitable yard or property, a favorable climate and good soil. Gazing out onto the lava rock garden of my rented apartment, I realize that I, like many Americans, currently have neither the space nor the property to achieve this dream. Today, many Americans live in urban areas, in suburban apartments without yards, or in subdivisions of small lots. In many cases, it is simply not possible to cultivate anything more than a few tomatoes and some herbs in the window sill or on the roof of an urban tenement, in a pot on the back porch of the apartment, or in a small part of the yard of the suburban home which isn’t already occupied with lawn and generic landscaping. Cleary, without a piece of land free of the concrete jungle of the metropolis and the sprawl of suburbia, it is nearly impossible to create even a moderate level of self-sufficiency and personal food security. Nevertheless, I think we could all benefit from growing a few vegetables in the spaces available to us, or through co-ops with like-minded neighbors.

In many cities across the United States, citizens are creating urban gardens to produce their own food. As a result, neighborhoods that were previously neglected and consequently prone to vandalism and crime have been revitalized. First Lady Michelle Obama has also shown that she values community and locally grown organic food by planting a garden (with the help of fifth-graders from a local elementary school) on the South Lawn of the White House. This garden sends a positive message to both the participating students and to the public that we can take control of our own diet and health, while respecting the environment and promoting community life.

Urban planners can take a page of inspiration from the First Lady and urban gardeners by including community gardens in their project master plans. A frequent problem with suburban planned development is the lack of access to goods and services, and an absence of community spirit. Imagine if new subdivisions included, in addition to required parks, areas dedicated to gardens that were proportionally large enough to provide each household with a box of seasonal vegetables once a month, or several times a year? On weekends homeowners could tend the garden along with their children, or while their children play in the adjacent park. They could also organize culinary events based on the harvest, using community facilities (to the extent these exist), or through rotating events held in private homes.

For people who are unable to have their own garden, many cities run farmers' markets where you can buy quality, small-scale produce from local growers, which is superior to what you’ll find in the supermarket. In addition, there is frequently more organic food on offer at these events. Farmers’ markets also give the opportunity to socialize with other people in the community: often a rare occurrence in a modern world typified by commuting, frequent relocation, and a preference for private artificial entertainment in the form of movies, television, internet, and video games.

Alternatively, it is possible to have a box of seasonal organic produce delivered to your door from local farms. While local, organic produce may not look perfect, it is usually superior in taste to what’s on offer at your local supermarket, which is harvested early for a longer shelf life, and bred to be uniform in appearance and to travel well. For the consumer this often means rock hard peaches, mealy apples, and cardboard tomatoes. No thanks! I’ll take taste over appearance any day.

The best thing you can do with your homegrown or local-bought produce is to share it with friends in tasty meals prepared for small dinner parties, or potlucks. The potluck is a great tradition because it allows us to take time out from our busy schedules to cook our favorite meals, eat together, and interact with our friends. More often than not, the food on offer is delicious and can inspire our own cooking. While we all have our culinary preferences based on culture, tradition, small epiphanies, habit and convenience, we become our better selves when we discover and appreciate different food and the people who prepare and share it with us. While sincere communication and mutual interests build friendship and understanding, food is still the fastest path to the heart.


Click here to learn more about scurvy.
Click here for more info on urban gardening.
Visit the White House Blog to learn more about the White House Kitchen Garden.

The Case of the Casu Marzu

As I mentioned in the previous blog, “Certain [food] producers have created a brand identity based on tradition, to the extent that substitution won’t do.” In Sardinia, you’ll find an expression of this traditional identity in local, organic products like Casu marzu, a sheep’s milk cheese that has passed from the state of fermentation to decomposition just clear of toxicity. To make Casu marzu, aficionados deliberately introduce maggots into the cheese which proceed to burrow through their new home, eating and shitting until the cheese achieves a flavor that will bring tears to your eyes and spasms to your throat. While popular, the cheese is illegal in its country of origin, and on the black market fetches twice the price of ordinary (read: fermented, not rotten) pecorino, For the cheese to be safe the maggots must still be alive, though some people like to suffocate them in a bag before dining.

While traveling in Sardinia with friends some years ago, I had the opportunity to try this unique cheese, without any prior knowledge of it, at the home of my old Sardinian roommate in the small town of San Vero Milis. Though Wikipedia claims the worms can jump up to six inches, we did not experience this phenomenon, as we were likely too quick for the little buggers. Still, it seems likely that they would react in such a way when threatened with being devoured along with their pungent home.

This incident found its way into my Italian adventure novel, The Amateurs (2001). In the following scene the American protagonist, Nick, while traveling with his Sardinian friend, Sergio, suddenly comes face to face with the perils of Sardinian tradition at the home of Sergio’s cousin, Armando, in Alghero.


"Here is some sausage and fruit, and I've saved a little surprise. I have some special cheese. The kind you don't find on the mainland," Armando said, giving Sergio a wink.

"You will love this cheese, Nick. It is not like most cheese that does not have taste or character. It is typical of Sardinia."

Sergio was proud of his homeland and never failed to impress upon Nick the superiority of all things Sardinian. Nick enjoyed Italian cooking and, from what he had tried of it so far, Sardinian food was no different. He ate some of the pork sausage, lightly seasoned with spices and herbs, and sipped the glass of dry red wine Armando had poured for him. Both were good, and he looked forward to trying the cheese. Armando cut a slice for each of them from the wheel and put it on their plates.

Nick noticed how the cheese was slightly caved in, rough on the surface, and somewhat wet around the edges where it sat on the plate. It was probably a strong, moldy cheese like Gorgonzola, which he had grown to like in small quantities.

Armando casually popped a slice in his mouth along with some sausage, while Sergio ate his with care.

"How it is good! Just like on the farm," Sergio said.

Nick followed their example, breaking off a small piece to start. Just before he put the cheese in his mouth, he noticed movement. Looking closer, he saw a maggot undulating its tiny body to a silent and personal soundtrack. Had it not been for the creature’s small black head, he might not have noticed, as the creamy yellow worm matched the cheese exactly in color. So there was a worm in the cheese! No matter, he would chew it and the stray parasite would decompose in the acid of his stomach. Still, he found the maggot’s movement unnerving. He gave a closer inspection and noticed that fully half the cheese was maggots. With the fascination that anticipates horror, he watched their tubular bodies writhe and twist in and out of their meal and home, like the tentacles of a terrestrial sea anemone.

"Don't look at it, Nick, just eat it."

Nick noted that Sergio was not smiling when he said this. Nor was there any laughter to indicate that it was a joke. It was clear that both Sergio and Armando were very fond of the cheese and were waiting impatiently for him to join them in this rare feast. Nick knew his refusal to eat this typical Sardinian product would be considered an insult to their culture. To avoid losing their trust or goodwill, especially after making a fool of himself in the cave, Nick popped the cheese in his mouth, chewed with deliberation, and looked them in the eye. Meanwhile, inside his mouth, his taste buds were being violently assaulted by a substance he knew he should not swallow. The cheese was a culinary force to be reckoned with, introducing him to flavors he never imagined possible and did not want to revisit. Had he expected rotten, maggot-ridden cheese to be any different?

He reached for his wine in a manner that would appear casual.

"Don't drink the wine, Nick, it mixes badly with the cheese and ruins the taste,” Sergio advised, picking a stray maggot from his teeth.

"It's good isn't it," Armando said.

"Yes, very flavorful," Nick said, suppressing a gag.

"It's a shame, really, that it’s illegal. Just because of the occasional death from bad preparation. Everybody knows to make sure the worms are still alive. Still, if the health inspector came he would have us all arrested. Ma, people still sell it like this and I'm willing to take the risk. I'd rather be arrested for cheese than anything else I've done," Sergio said.

"Yes, you have to wait until it gets good and rotten,” Armando said. “The maggots provide that deep flavor. They eat and shit and something inside them turns it from a good cheese to something truly delightful."

Armando was almost giddy with pleasure when he spoke about the cheese. He cut himself another generous slice and rolled it around in his mouth with his tongue, chewing slowly and with obvious satisfaction.

"Go on, have another slice, ragazzi. It's had to sit for many months to get this way. A real delicacy for a special occasion."

Sergio helped himself and passed the plate to Nick.

"No, c'è, I'm fine. The truth is I'm not that hungry, and I don't want to spoil dinner.”

“You know best,” Sergio told him.

Nick thought about making a joke about spoiled cheese and spoiled dinner but he kept his mouth shut. He told himself he did not want another slice, not because he couldn’t handle the maggots, but because the cheese was really too strong.

"I prefer a younger cheese," he told them, diplomatically.

While Sergio and Armando conversed in Sardinian, Nick could not help but stare at the cheese. How many maggots did he count? No, he did not want to count. Best to just forget it, he told himself.


Like Armando in the book, our Sardinian hosts were very gracious, inviting us into their home and sharing with us their delicious local food, including flatbread, sun-dried tomatoes, fresh pasta, olives, and myrtle liquor. As for Casu marzu, it remains a personal taste. Later in the trip, one of my friends who was keen on traditional products insisted on buying a contraband wheel of Casu marzu to snack on as we traveled. Not a bad idea, since we didn’t have to worry about it spoiling in the car. Still, because we were never sure if it was too rotten, we ended up throwing it out after only a couple of slices. Knowing what I do now about this surreal product, I am glad we did. Though a unique experience, I won’t be eating Casu marzu any time soon.


To learn more about Casu marzu, click here.

Locals Only?

In the past few years, a debate has developed over the benefits and drawbacks of eating local versus organic food. In some cases there need not be a conflict of choice between the two, particularly in California where the climate and soil favors cultivation of a large variety of crops, and where organic produce is readily available at local markets. But if a choice has to be made, I would favor local produce over imported organic produce. The cost of transport, which is currently externalized by the food industry, makes it such that eating imported organic produce has a significant impact on global warming. Though I disagree with the methods of production of factory farms, they nonetheless control the market and are more difficult to challenge through individual choice. The fight against factory farms is by necessity waged at the policy level with the Federal Government, particularly in regard to the Farm Bill.

In my decision to buy local produce, I had to ask myself what made local produce special, compared to other products. In other words, why do I insist on local organic produce, and not on local sustainably-manufactured goods? Probably because good soil and climate can’t be outsourced, whereas factories can, and, as I discussed in a previous post, our manufacturing industry has been almost entirely outsourced. In other words, aside from specialty products, it can be hard to come by local sustainably-manufactured goods. But what about other foodstuffs? Well, in some cases certain producers have created a brand identity based on tradition, to the extent that substitution won’t do. Cheese and wine often fall into this category because they are tied to place by their unique taste. Local water, weather patterns, etc. influence the development of the crops that the cows eat, and the growth cycles and sugar content of the grapes. These products also rely on certain methods and techniques of production that are seldom reproducible. As for produce in general, while peaches may taste different from field to field, tree to tree, or fruit to fruit, the price of a peach doesn’t vary much within each growing season, and has no added value beyond the cost of harvest labor. So while I will buy cheese imported from Europe (notwithstanding our happy California cows), I can wait for California strawberries, oranges, apples, etc. to come into season. And because California wine is as good as any in the world, due to our favorable climate, I see no need to imported wine from France. The rule for me is: if I can find a local substitute, I will.

Personally, I decided that I wouldn’t eat produce imported from, for example, Chile, and would instead eat locally, seasonally and organically, when possible. This is not as much of a sacrifice as some might imagine, given that I live next to the Salinas Valley, the so-called “Salad Bowl of America.” But for people who live in Maine, locally and seasonally means subsisting on blueberries, potatoes, apples, and maple syrup. In this case, it makes sense to adopt the “more local than . . .” rule where, for example, Maine continues to import peaches from Georgia and oranges from Florida, and does not import them out of season from Chile and Brazil, respectively. A problem arises when there are no “more local than . . .” markets available, and California, for example, must ship produce a few thousand miles across the continent. The problem is this: I pay the same price as someone from Maine for lettuce grown ten miles from my house. In other words, I (along with other people living close to the source of production) am subsidizing lettuce consumption in Maine. In my opinion, Mainers can pay a premium for what is rare to them, as I would be willing to pay more for Maine lobster, if I couldn’t get lobster off the coast of California.

While local consumers in the United States subsidize the transportation cost of produce for distant markets, consumers across the board don’t pay the true cost of labor to harvest crops. Farmers often employ farm labor contractors (FLCs) to oversee the workers who harvest their fields. Worker wages, paid either piece rate or hourly, are low to keep costs down for consumers and profits up for farmers, contractors, wholesale distributors, and restaurant and grocery chains. In addition, a majority of California’s agricultural workers have no health insurance and seldom visit the doctor, though they suffer from a variety of health problems, including obesity. Some of them are also subject to abuses by their employers and opportunists who provide housing, food, and rides at exorbitant rates, as is the case with tomato harvesters in Florida. In order to improve the quality of life of farm workers, we as consumers will have to pay more for the produce we buy. But, since we are the last point of the distribution chain, worker pay must be raised by growers and contractors, which depends on wholesalers, restaurants and grocery chains paying more for produce and either passing the price on to the consumer, or marginally reducing profits.

We also do not pay the true cost of water to grow our food. According to the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS), in 2000, irrigation accounted for 40% of total water withdrawals in the United States, and 65% of total water withdrawals, excluding thermoelectric power. The water farmers use is, in large part, subsidized by the Federal Government. Notwithstanding fraud, these subsidies increase grower profits while lowering the cost of produce for the consumer. If these subsidies were reduced, or eliminated, we would see a dramatic increase in food prices. While that is not a desirable outcome for the consumer, we cannot ignore that water subsidies create a wasteful attitude toward what is an increasingly rare resource. Some solutions to this problem include using reclaimed water on crops, repairing and replacing outdated or damaged irrigation infrastructure, and eliminating the lawn.

According to a study by Cristina Milesi of NASA’s Ames Research Center, the largest irrigated crop (in surface area) in the United States is the lawn, covering about 128,000 square kilometers in all. “Even conservatively,” Milesi says, “I estimate there are three times more acres of lawns in the U.S. than irrigated corn.” In spite of the lawn’s status as an icon of the American Dream, it is also an environmental nightmare; and while I respect the Scots and their kilts, I can’t forgive them for inventing golf, given it is the most water-intensive and environmentally destructive game on earth, converting large tracts of natural landscape into lawns. According to the USGS, in 2000, "Irrigation remained the largest use of freshwater in the United States." Irrigation of residential and commercial lawns, golf courses, cemeteries, and other landscaping made a significant contribution to this use. Consumers and businesses alike could significantly reduce their water consumption by simple removing their lawns, and related water intensive landscaping, and planting native vegetation that is adapted to and can survive natural climate cycles with little or no additional irrigation. Alternatively, domestic lawns can be converted into gardens, allowing households to grow their own food.


Resources:

Click here for David Lighthall’s article “The Poor Health of Farm Workers." Mr. Lighthall is the executive director of the California Institute of Rural Studies.
Click here for Barry Estabrook’s article “The Price of Tomatoes: Keeping Slavery Alive in Florida.”
The Environmental Working Group article, "Taking From the Taxpayers," provides more info on water subsidies and fraud.
Click here for more on Cristina Milesi’s satellite lawn research at NASA’s Ames Research Center.
For water use figures for 2000, visit the USGS website.

Saúde!

As they say in Brazil: Saúde! To your health! Keeping healthy depends on exercising the mind and body, getting enough rest, and eating well. For the purpose of this blog, let’s look at diet. Growing up, my mom prepared home-cooked meals that she served every day promptly at five o’clock. She cooked a lot of vegetarian meals, and when we did eat meat, it was always served in moderation and confined to poultry or pork. Dinner always included a salad, so we could get our raw vegetables. She also prepared several, at the time, exotic dishes, such as Indian curry and Chinese stir-fry. Eating habits, along with our morals and beliefs, come from our parents. Because of the tradition established by my mom, when I went away to college and lived on my own, I cooked for myself and followed a regular dinner schedule. I cooked many of my mom’s recipes and also invented my own. I always cooked more than I needed, so I would have leftovers. This saved me from having to cook everyday and provided me with surplus time to study and write.

As a kid, I though it was normal that everyone went home to eat dinner with their family at a certain hour. In fact, I took it for granted that there would be dinner waiting on the table for me every day at five. Nor did I realize, though it has left a lasting impression on me, that not only was I getting healthy food in my stomach, but also valuable and consistent contact with my family, the so-called “quality-time” we hear so much about. Well, we called it “dinner,” a time when not only did we eat but also discussed ideas, told stories, and shared the latest news and events of our day. And even if we didn’t always talk deep, we still enjoyed each other’s company. A childhood friend, with whom I still keep in contact, later told me that what he liked about my family was that we always ate together. He said he remembered how, as the clock neared five, I would abruptly excuse myself in the middle of some game or activity we were involved in and make a beat home to dinner. It seemed that what I had taken for granted was not as common as one might have thought. Certainly, there were many families who, because of work and/or lack of tradition, did not eat home-cooked meals together, surviving instead on processed food and eating individually when it suited their personal schedules. In most cases, they could have chosen differently.

Food is to the group as the breath is to the individual. Food brings people together for the most noble of purposes: to give fuel to the body to be transformed into emotions, thoughts, communication, work, and play. When people break bread together they are more likely to listen to one another and cooperate, for eating is the definitive communal activity. By preparing and sharing food with others, you are giving them your love.

Cooking is, furthermore, an art form expressed through the chemistry of food and flavor, the timing and technique of preparation, and the aesthetics of presentation. Though the culinary world is steeped in accepted standards and historical traditions, new recipes are invented daily by creative cooks out of inspiration, necessity, or both. Indeed, this is how cooking has always been: a way to use the raw ingredients at hand to maximum benefit to produce a variety of dishes that are both visually appealing and tasty. In these modern times of refrigeration and supermarkets, it is easy to forget that the traditional human diet was based on local and seasonally available agricultural products. Many traditional recipes were created to prevent excessive crop yields from going to waste, and to make maximum use of livestock. For example: what do you do with an overabundance of ripe tomatoes? You make tomato sauce, the staple of southern Italian cooking. And a plethora of ripe avocados? That’s right: Viva guacamole! How about a bumper catch of cod? Right again: bacalau! Or extra cow’s milk fresh off the udder? Camembert cheese, anyone? How about all those messy intestines: why, stuff them with meat and make sausages! In fact, many of the dishes we love, both traditional and modern, have come about through improvisation. When I am missing a key ingredient to a recipe, I’ll find a substitute, adding a new twist to an old dish. For example, taking a break from writing for lunch, I took a bowl of pinto beans I had used to make nachos and poured them in with my leftover penne al pesto, to make a delicious pasta e fagioli (pasta and beans), to which I added fresh heirloom tomatoes. When I found myself without mango juice for my mahi-mahi marinade, I substituted orange juice, and then apple juice, and was pleased to note that each was tasty in its own unique way.

Some people say they don’t like cooking, or complain that they don’t know how. If the former, they are missing out: if the latter, there are far too many great cookbooks and cooking shows for this to be a hindrance. Then there are those who complain they don’t have the time. While it is true that time is in short supply in the modern world, this is often a result of the choices we make. Given that eating is essential, cooking is always time well spent. Perhaps the biggest secret about cooking is that, in addition to feeding yourself, it’s fun! I find the same zen satisfaction in chopping zucchini or mixing up a good marinade, as I do composing a nice sentence or meditating. While cooking, my worries slip away, and I think only about preparing something tasty and beautiful to put in my mouth. I turn on the music, pour myself a beer, and build my transient work of art.

In addition to being a fun, creative, and potentially healthy activity, cooking at home is both cheaper than eating out, you can hand-pick the best ingredients, and, if you are a skilled cook or follow a good recipe, it will likely taste better, too. Having worked as a waiter, I can pass on the following inside information about restaurants:

1. When a special is on offer, in many cases it is because the main ingredient of the dish, usually the meat, poultry, or fish, is old and they want to sell it before it spoils.
2. Unless a restaurant is high-end and bases its reputation on quality, the ingredients are frequently frozen and not premium: i.e. certified organic, local, sustainable, etc.
3. The quality of the food goes down with the volume of business. In other words, when a restaurant is slammed, there is no love in the food, meaning it wasn’t done with care and consequently won’t taste as good.
4. Many kitchens do not observe proper hygiene. Cooks pick their nose and handle the food, food is dropped on the floor and tossed into the pan, old ingredients are used so they won’t be wasted, and your food may be fouled by resentful cooks and waiters.

Commercial cooking will never be as good as personally-prepared, small-scale meals. Because of my behind-the-scenes restaurant experience, I rarely eat out. Cooking at home is a process that allows me to maintain an intimacy with the food I eat. I can use premium quality, fresh ingredients and save both money and time, because I will cook several portions. I am also likely to have ingredients left over for other meals. If I have guests, this means I can feed at least three people other than myself. If I am alone, I can freeze my leftovers or save them for a tasty hot lunch the following day, and/or another dinner. Now some people, particularly Italians and my brother, would never dream of eating leftovers. Nevertheless, I believe some dishes taste better the next day because the flavors have had more time to blend with one another and are enhanced as a result. For those of you who are averse to leftovers, just consider that most processed food is leftover; the food is processed, i.e. cooked, and then frozen for you to reheat as leftovers without the love. Though it would be nice to have fresh food everyday, home-cooked leftovers are a practical solution to eating well on a busy schedule.

Imagine you had the foresight to prepare a nice meal on Sunday and have saved some leftovers for lunch and/or dinner the following day. This will make it possible for you to cook every other day, or every two days. If you rotate properly and freeze the food in single portions, as a friend of mine does, then you won’t get bored eating the same thing and will always have home-cooked meals on hand just when you need them. The question now is where should you eat your tasty lunch? The lunch break is an important part of the day, not just to feed up, but also to relax and clear you mind from your work and personal obligations. Some people spend their lunch hour running errands and then wolfing down some processed and/or fast food in the car or at their desk. While a busy schedule can’t be helped, it would be better to take a longer lunch if possible and stay a little later at work, or come in earlier. Wolves have a feast and famine diet, whereas you have a stockpile of leftovers and weekly access to the local farmers market and the supermarket. So with leftovers in hand, quickly heated in the office microwave, I suggest you find a place you enjoy, perhaps outside in a nearby park or by the ocean, weather permitting. If this isn’t possible, find a quiet place at work, preferably near a window, and enjoy your lunch along with a good book or some music from your mp3 player. Alternatively, you might want some company while you eat, so why not invite a coworker or a friend to join you? Bon appétit!