Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Not just a fad

Since reading Michael Pollan's Omnivore's Dilemma some five years ago, my eating habits have continuously evolved. The more I read, the more they change. My husband and I kick around various ideas on how to remove ourselves from wasteful consumerism and move toward sustainability. For about a year now, I've been making my own stock. Previously I bought organic vegetable broth in the resealable/pourable cartons. I wasn't sure those boxes were recyclable, but I put them in the bin anyway hoping they were. Excess sodium concerned me, too. Why pay $4 for 2 cups of broth when I could make it myself? I thought.

My husband proudly shared our resourcefulness with a colleague. "So, you're saying your wife makes broth out of what farmer's feed to pigs?" his less-than-impressed colleague responded. He hadn't thought of it in quite that light, but essentially, that's what I do.

We save organic potato peels, the heels of onions and garlic and carrots (any root vegetable, really), the stalks of broccoli--trimmings off any vegetable featured for the evening meal. When our tub runneth over, we drizzle olive oil over the parings and roast them in the oven on 400 degrees for about 30 minutes. All that caramelized goodness goes into a Dutch oven filled with water, whole peppercorns, a bay leaf or two, some salt, and maybe some celery and carrot. A long, slow boil produces roughly 10 cups of vegetable stock that goes into plastic yogurt containers and is frozen.

Until we joined a meat share program at our local farm, Randle Farms, we didn't have any meat stock. However, with the two whole chickens we get each month, I cut out the back bones, throw them into a pot of water with onion, carrot, celery, peppercorns, salt, and bay leaves, and we now have frozen chicken stock as well.

So, that was my one "green" act today: I made up a batch each of chicken broth and vegetable broth. Our freezer is well-stocked for soup weather.

Monday, January 3, 2011

Reading in the New Year


My husband and I spent the New Year at Amicalola State Park in North Georgia hiking, reading, and eating--my favorite activities. I brought along Fast Food Nation by Eric Schlosser and The Jungle by Upton Sinclair; two books with uncanny similarities despite being written in two different centuries. Schlosser's book looks at the real costs of fast food to the environment, farmers and ranchers, meatpacking workers, and consumers' health.

Sinclair's books shows just how little has changed since his mudracking classic uncovered the abusive and corrupt practices of the meatpacking industry at the turn of the 20th century. The more things change, the more they remain the same. Reading these books prompted this blog, in which I'll share recipes and local agricultural news (the honeybees) and readings that assault my food sensibilities and sustainability (locusts).

I wish I had been writing as I was reading so I could easily share some of Schlosser's findings. Here's just one morsel to chew next time you eat--or consider eating--your next Big Mac:
"To supply the beef slaughterhouses, ConAgra operates a pair of enormous feedlots. Each of them can hold up to one hundred thousand head of cattle. ...Each steer deposits about fifty pounds of urine and manure everyday. Unlike human waste, the manure is not sent to a treatment plant. It is dumped into pits, huge pools of excrement that the industry calls 'lagoons.' The amount of waste left by the cattle that pass through Weld County is staggering. The two Monfort feedlots outside Greeley (Colorado) produce more excrement than the cities of Denver, Boston, Atlanta, and St. Louise--combined." (pg. 150, Fast Food Nation)