Food Miles

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spent some time yesterday afternoon, hanging out in the kitchen of a local restaurant where I've become a friend of the chef. He seemed pleased, as he was pushing out salads and watching the Pittsburg Steelers, with the quality of a crate of tomatoes he had just gotten on Friday. But when I asked where they came from, he knew I wasn't asking about his wholesale supplier. "California," he muttered. He knows how I feel about local produce and in-season foods.

So it was an interesting coincidence to see this thought provoking piece that came across one of the food news feeds a few moments ago. It's a subject near and dear to my heart, although I've never quite expressed the concept the way the author has: Food miles.

No, food miles are not redeemable for free food; nor can they provide upgrades from, say, California plum tomatoes to San Marzano tomatoes. In fact, as units of measure go, fewer are better.

Food miles are, as the phrase suggests, the number of miles a foodstuff needs to travel to get from its point of origin to your dinner table. Often, food miles are used as a measure of volume rather than distance. That is to say, in gallons of diesel, or jet gas.

On the surface, some shoppers might look at this as a noble endeavor. With more and more mainstream grocery stores offering organic produce, they may overlook the fact that those gorgeous, organic yellow bell peppers needed to travel 3,000 miles, because they came from a highly reputable, certified organic farm in Salinas Valley, California. Or perhaps they came from a fair trade cooperative somewhere in the Andes. But then there's that doggone gas.

Barbara Kingsolver, one of my favorite authors, made me aware of the concept of factoring the cost of gas into the cost of food in her collection of essays, Small Wonder. (Harper Collins, 2002.) Since then, I've become more thoughtful—some of my friends might use stronger terms—about seasonal, and local foods. She's taken the concept a step further (to the frustration of her publisher) by being very selective about which speaking engagements she accepts based on how much jet gas it will take to get her to and from her destination.

Western Europeans, of course, have known about food miles since they discovered food. Nothing edible travels too far in Europe; often no further than the garden outside the kitchen door. You're not likely to find gorgeous, organic yellow bell peppers in the Campo dei Fiore in December, because nobody in the vicinity of Rome is growing them in December.

In the past, I've been as guilty as anyone, simply because it was great to be able to cook traditionally summer dishes, in February. It wasn't so long ago that I thought Bread & Circus (now Whole Foods) was about the best thing that ever happened to grocery shopping. Under Barbara Kingsolver's tutelage, though, I got even further back to my roots, and discovered the reason why God had invented Mason jars.

But the only surprise for me in all of this, is that it's happening now. The whole phenomenon of eating any food at any time of the year began in the thirties (I believe) with The Great American Lettuce Train. I'm a little shaky on the details, but it seems it was a regularly scheduled cross-country train that originated in Stockton, California, where it collected boxcars full of iceberg lettuce, carrots, celery, onions, and whatever else was fresh and in season there. Thirty-six hours later, the train arrived at Penn Station in Manhattan. I believe the whole notion of the Great American Lettuce Train came about so the patrons at the Waldorf-Astoria could dine on iceberg lettuce wedges with Russian dressing any time of the year. So if we're seeking to lay blame on anyone, we have a vast array of choices that go back three or four generations. And those trains ran on coal.

I've been preaching "Think global, eat local," for three or four years now. Clearly, Barbara Kingsolver has been preaching it longer. I hope the notion catches on. I'm concerned that the food conglomerates' marketing message of 'Look ma, now we're organic!' will obfuscate the added cost of jet gas, and the amount of CO₂ in the atmosphere, to put organic vegetables on your dinner table.

I believe it was Jaques Pépin (who lives in Connecticut) who said—and I'm paraphrasing—I'd prefer a tomato I've just picked from my neighbor across the street over the finest organic California tomato when they're in-season together. He seems to get it about the gas.

Technorati tags: Food Miles, Local Food, Skip Lombardi

Agnello a Scottidito

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can't talk about Agnello a Scottaditto, lamb chops that will burn your fingers, without talking about my friend Frankie at Universal Food Store of Noank. He has the best meat suppliers in Connecticut. Of course, after he let it slip that he gets his sausages from Sam and Frank Bruno at Westerly Meat Packing Company, and when he realized how excited I became having that information, he's played things closer to the vest. But Frankie knows where to find great meat.

I've already mentioned that a walk into Universal Food Store of Noank is a walk back in time. You'll find no shrink wrap or styrofoam behind the meat counter here. But Frankie has surrounded himself with a group of fellows—some of whom are his children—who really seem to care about what they're doing for a living.

And that bode well on a day when we were in the midst of una tempesta (although the WASPS around here would more likely have called it a nor'easter), and comfort food seemed the order of the day.

Somehow, this second-generation Italian-American finds comfort in foods that—on the surface—wouldn't be available in circumstances like a nor'easter. Something, for example, from the grill. And that's where my stovetop gratella came in.

A couple of Frankie's loin lamb chops and my gratella could take the chill away from any winter evening, and make the rattling of the living room windows seem like an interlude from an opera by Puccini.

The first time I had Agnello a Scottaditto was at a little spot called Le Tre Fratelli, near the Pantheon, in Rome. This in contrast to a small error in translation at another restaurant—Sorra Lella, smack in the middle of the Tiber River where I didn't exactly understand the meaning of one of the nightly specials—cervello di agnello. And while lamb's brains might not have been as bad as you might have thought, I'd go for the Agnello a Scottaditto anytime.

Agnello a Scottaditto
Grilled, marinated Lamb Chops

Ingredients

1.5 Lb. Loin lamb chops (Four chops)
Olive oil
2 Tbs. Rosemary, leaves only
1 1/2 Lemons
Salt & freshly ground black pepper

Preparation:

Marinate the lamb chops at room temperature in the olive oil, rosemary, and half the juice of a lemon for approximately two hours.

Heat your stovetop gratella for five or ten minutes over high heat, then season the lamb chops on both sides with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Cook the chops for approximately four minutes per side. Allow to rest for approximately five minutes, covered loosley with aluminum foil.

To Serve:

Squeeze the juice of the remaining lemon over the lamb chops. Despite the fact that Agnello a Scottadito is typical of Roman cooking, Tuscan potatoes would be a great accompaniment, along with spinaci saltati, sauteed spinach.

Serves four.

Technorati tags: Agnello a Scottaditto, Italian Food, Italian Recipes

Caffeine Could be Viagra for Women?

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've never let my sense of propriety or good taste—such as they may be—get in the way of a good blog post, but this article is a little over the top even for me.

But I should say, it's not because of the content, so much as the leap of logic in suggesting if female rat's sexual appetites increase with additional caffeine, then it could work the same way for women.

Nevertheless, I think before this day is over, I'm going to take my laptop over to Starbuck's in Mystic to check out their free WiFi connection...purely in the interest of science.

Technorati tags: Caffeine, Viagra, Skip Lombardi

A Small Win For The Good Guys

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ome days, it seems I can simply sit here at my desk, goofing off, watching the comings and goings on Fisher's Island Sound, and news simply drops into my lap. This is one of those days.

Apparently, a local baker in Altamura, Italy has single-handedly shagged a McDonald's out of town. According to the article, (as I've said before, I try to keep up with the professional journals)

After a five-year battle, McDonald's has retreated from the town, defeated by the sheer wholesomeness of the baker's bread.

The article goes on to mention McDonald's has been in Altamura for five years. Somehow, that's the surprise for me. After all, Altamura is located in Puglia, in southeastern Italy. That's serious red sauce country.

So I find it easy to see that when it came to a choice between, say, Pane Rustica or hamburg rolls, or perhaps between American Processed Cheese Food or Cacciocavalo, indeed there really was no choice.

As I said in the title to this post, this is a small win for the good guys. But it's a huge win for the town of Altamura. I feel great, thinking about the local adolescent population hanging around after school gorging on panini, rather than Big Macs.

But I do have one concern: Now that this fellow has the only game in town, I hope he can resist the temptation to Super-Size the panini.

Technorati tags: Panini, McDonald's, Skip Lombardi

Oops, Hold the Soy After All

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just got e-mail from a foodie friend, who, having read my last post here, pointed me to this story from Reuters via msnbc.com.

It seems that a diet heavily oriented toward soy products is knocking off laboratory mice faster than Murder Incorporated in their hayday. Of course, the researchers are extrapolating their results to suggest the potential effect on humans. So far, no research has actually been done on human subjects.

But given the Birkenstock-wearing crowd and others shelled out approximately 4.7 billion clams on soy products in 2005, I'm starting to think about the old speed limit for the state of Nevada: Prudence and good judgement.

Technorati tags: Soy Products, Skip Lombardi

Pasta al Ragù di Cervo

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recently learned—this being my first full winter in Noank—we have a robust deer population in the area. And as I've made the acquaintance of several local chefs over the past year, I've benefited from their largesse from time to time. Most recently, that largesse came in the form of 1.6 Lb. of venison shoulder.

I happen to know it was 1.6 pounds, because I weighed it on my nifty new digital kitchen scale. I also discovered, with the press of a button on the scale, that it weighed 726 grams as well. The scale, by the way, represented largesse of another kind at Christmas.

Of course, my first thought was Ragù di Cervo,venison ragu, served over pasta. The venison reminded me of one of the more memorable meals I've eaten over time; Ragù di Cinghiale, wild boar ragu. This was at a little trattoria in the Oltrarno district of Florence called—perhaps not by coincidence—Il Cinghiale Bianco, The White Boar.

But memorable meals aside, the reason I thought about ragu was that venison is tough; both literally and figuratively. Venison simply doesn't have a lot of fat, and therefore can be difficult to tenderize. While tenderloin can be seared and finished quickly in a hot oven, the rest of the animal usually needs a marinade and slow roast, or braise.

In the case of my venison, it came pre-chopped because my friend was planning to grind it further for venison sausages. That too aided my decision to make ragu. And since the meat was already chopped into very small pieces, I was able to forgo the marinade and get straight to cooking.

You'll find all the usual suspects in the recipe that follows: a batutto of carrot, celery, onion, parsley, and garlic; abundant red wine; and San Marzano tomatoes. Rosemary, sage, and a slightly non-traditional ingredient, ginepro, juniper berries, make appearances as well. Other than that, all you'll need is time and perhaps the addition of chicken stock.

Note: Italians typically serve Ragù di Cervo with Papardelle. But as I was fishing around Google, looking for more background on the dish, I discovered that the folks in Friuli in northeastern Italy, have no objection to serving their ragu with Farfalle. I'm sure it would be great with Rigatoni as well.

Pasta al Ragù di Cervo
Pasta with Venison Ragu

Ingredients:

1 Medium carrot, peeled and roughly chopped
1 Medium stalk of celery, roughly chopped
1 Medium yellow onion, peeled and roughly chopped
2 - 4 Cloves garlic, peeled
4 Tbs. Flat-leaf Italian parsley
Olive oil
1 1/2 - 2 Lb. Venison shoulder, chopped into approximately 1/2 in. pieces
1 - 1 1/2 Cups dry red wine
1 Cup Italian plum tomatoes (preferably San Marzano)
4 - 6 Sage leaves, finely chopped
1 Sprig rosemary, leaves only
1 Tbs. Juniper berries, crushed
Salt & Freshly ground black pepper
Chicken stock - as needed
1 Lb. Papardelle, or Farfalle
Additional parsley for garnish

Preparation:

Place the carrot, celery, onion, garlic, and parsley in the bowl of the Cuisinart, and pulse approximately ten times at one second per pulse.

Heat a large sauté pan over medium-high heat, then add enough olive oil to cover the pan bottom. Add the batutto, season with salt and pepper, and sauté for approximately ten minutes, or until the vegetables have wilted and begun to turn golden brown.

Add the venison, breaking it up with a wooden spoon, and sauté until there is no trace of pink left to the meat.

Raise the heat to high, and add enough red wine to completely cover the meat. Boil until the wine has reduced by approximately half.

Lower the heat to medium-low and add the tomatoes, breaking them up with the back of a fork as they go in. Taste for seasoning, and add salt and pepper as necessary. Add the sage, rosemary, and juniper berries. If the meat is not completely submerged in liquid, add enough chicken stock to cover the meat.

Regulate the heat so the meat barely simmers, and simmer, uncovered, for approximately two hours. If too much liquid evaprorates during that period, add more chicken stock as necessary.

At serving time, bring a large pot of salted water (at least six quarts) to the boil and add the pasta. Cook until just at the al dente state, remove from the heat and drain in a collander.

Return the pasta pot to the stove, add the drained pasta, and pour the sauce over all. Cook over low heat for two or three minutes, tossing constantly to thoroughly combine the sauce and pasta.

To Serve:

Divide the pasta equally among six dishes, and garnish with the remaining chopped parsley.

Serves six.

Note also: This is a very rich, earthy dish. So if you're serving an entrée to follow the pasta, this recipe will easily feed eight as a primo piatto.

Technorati tags: Venison recipes, Italian Recipes, Italian Food, Skip Lombardi

The Next Big Thing For the New Year

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got excited today when I saw this headline on PRNewswire.

Fad Diets Are Out - Healthy Weight Loss and Management is the New Trend

A new approach to weight-loss is gaining momentum because of its sustainable benefits. This approach uses the Glycemic Index to make good dietary choices to maintain weight and improve health. Soy, which has a low GI, can be part of an effective weight-loss diet.

Of course, I thought the timing for this press release was brilliant. Three days into the new year—the time when 90% of the population has just resolved to finally develop those hourglass waists and six pack abs—along come some un-named folks to tell us that they're going to restore sanity to the weight loss game. Not quite.

This press release turns out to be something that one of my college professors used to call "a mystery story." That is to say, rather than giving us the main point up front, the writer has lured us into the document with some irrefutable—and perhaps irrelevant—facts and statistics before getting to the real message. And that simply turns out to be a sales pitch for some kind of soy product that makes everything from pasta to smoothies.

Along the way, the writer extolls the virtue of something called the glycemic index. This turns out to be a measure—represented by numbers from 1 to 100—of the effect various foods have on blood sugar.

Nevertheless, I became interested enough to do some fishing around on Google, and, with almost no effort, found The Glycemic Index dot com. And while the index has been developed by an apparently well-respected biomedical researcher in Australia, the foods in the GI database come primarily from outside the U.S.

In defense of the glycemic index, it turns out to be a very useful tool for helping diabetics take more control of their blood sugar levels. It's been endorsed for that purpose as early as 1997 by Walter Willet of Harvard School of Public Health, who happens to be an extremely heavy hitter in the nutrition dodge. But as a tool for dieters, not so good, according to this source.

So as we begin the new year, it looks, alas, like we're still waiting for the pundits to decide the best way for us to lose those love handles and beer bellies while we sleep or watch TV. I'm not going to wait for the pundits, though; I've made the same new year's resolution I've been making for twenty-five or thirty years. I'm going to eat more pasta.

Technorati tags: Glycemic Index, Soy Products,Skip Lombardi