ChewsWise Blog

ChewsWise Blog

Video slice: Una Pizza Napoletana

Naturally Risen, is a short film documenting the rhythm of the process of noted pizzaiola Anthony Mangieri. Anthony owned and operated Una Pizza Napoletana in the East Village of New York City from 2004 until 2009. He has since re-opened in the Soma district of San Francisco. The film takes a decided non-verbal, intimate approach, in the tradition of a surf video – allowing Mangieri's disciplined movements to speak for themself. Legendary skateboarder and musician Tommy Guerrero, provides the score. Directed by Michael Evans

OK, your mouth may be watering but maybe you can't try this at home. What you can try instead is Really Easy Potato Pizza from Jim Lahey's "My Bread," which I blogged on previously.

- Samuel Fromartz

I'll drink to that: Beer barm bread with spent grains


image from www.flickr.com

Ahhh, beer making. I don't partake of this sport, but my step-mom, Patty, does, with a passion. And I have to say her IPA will put rivals to shame. But here's the thing. She's been brewing this beer for a few years, and even grows the hops in the backyard. I have long wanted to make a bread with the "wort" (that is, the pre-fermented beer) and the "spent grains" (the malted barley soaked in hot water that, with hops, makes the wort). This is the ultimate beer bread and the method goes back to England and Scotland, and probably much earlier historically, considering barley beer and bread built the pyramids.

British baker Dan Lepard explains that the mildly antiseptic qualities of hops prevent the barm leaven from turning sour. This might seem odd, given that hops are bitter, but in a small dose of leaven they actually sweeten the bread.

Hops give beer its slight bitterness, and were once used by both brewers and bakers to ward off a disagreeable sourness. Bakers would use a modified beer-making process, known as "barm," beating flour into a hot, liquid mix of hops and malt, so that the starch gelatinized. This proved a perfect medium for fermentation once seeded with a little barm from the previous weeks baking. This mixture could be kept for a week, as the bitter hops would keep the mixture sweet tasting. 

Until the 20th C., when the use of commerical yeast became commplace, bakers struggled to make bread as cleanly flavored and white as they could. Sourness was considered a bad thing ... The newly available processed yeast made it possible to mix and bake dough quickly which meant that the bacteria did not have time to develop and sour the loaf. Bakers rejoiced except a few.

In Scotland, for example, the bakers weren't so taken with this new, clean-tasting bread. Comparing the two breads, one made in the old style with barm, and another with the new-fangled yeast, both bakers and customers preferred the old style. But barm-making was laborious, and the new yeast convenient. And convenience won.

That quote is from Lepard's The Art of Handmade Bread: Contemporary European Recipes for the Home Baker. He gives a simple recipe to make a barm, which involves heating beer to 158 F. Since I had an actual brewer on hand, I also had the real thing -- wort. And so I heated a cup of the wort to the appropriate temperature and whisked in one-half cup flour. Once the temperature dropped to 75 F, I seeded the leaven not with a bit of last week's barm, but with a tablespoon of ripe sourdough starter. Then I waited. 

The next morning, the barm was bubbly and alive with a foamy top. Loosely using Lepard's Barm Bread recipe, I made the loaf, but with a couple of additions: I added around a cup of the malted barely spent grains which had been strained out of the wort the day before. I also added a small amount of spelt flour (that was just sitting around and needed a use). After I mixed and folded the dough so it had developed a moderate gluten structure, I folded the grains into the dough. (You can see the flecked barley in the slice above). The bread took awhile to rise, as it was pretty cool -- three hours for the first rise with a couple of folds along the way. Then I shaped the loaf and let it rise another 3-1/2 hours covered by a towel on a sheet pan. Finally, I plopped the loaf into a hot dutch oven and baked it. The loaf rose beautifully. 

Later, when we cut into the bread, it had the feint nutty smell of roasted barley. It also had a wonderfully complex flavor, with just the mildest note of bitter hops. We buttered a couple of slices, popped open two IPAs, and enjoyed our brewers feast. 

I could see why the Scots liked a nice barm loaf. Convenience be damned. 

submitted to yeastspotting

Chopping through McWilliams' weeds on GMO Alfalfa

Years ago, I had a history professor at Reed College who thought it was fruitless to understand the historical impact of contemporary events. He argued that a historian needed at least two decades remove from any event to come to any worthwhile conclusion because only then could it be understood within its wider political and economic context. Perhaps that’s why I find it curious that a historian like James McWilliams so confidently offers conclusions about the contemporary food system and does so often by looking at complex issues through such a narrow lens.

Take his most recent piece on genetically modified (GMO) alfalfa, where he took me to task about the risk of potential contamination of non-GMO alfalfa. Since organic alfalfa is grown on such a small percentage of land, he argued, the risk and impact of contamination from the genetically engineered crop was slight. He supported the argument by brandishing “the data” -- a study by a researcher which showed a small risk of cross-pollination. If the ignorant public only looked at the science, he argues, there wouldn’t be such a fuss.

But how would a historian approach this question? From a future vantage point, they would probably look at this study with interest, but then also examine the actual record of cross-contamination in the real word. Given what’s happened in the recent past, I wouldn’t be as sanguine as McWilliams. 

They might find that in 2006, GMO rice spread to conventional rice farms in Louisiana and Texas. It wasn't from fully deregulated plantings like GMO alfalfa, but from closely controlled GMO test plots. It led losses in the hundreds of millions of dollars. Taco shells were pulled from shelves in 2000, because they contained unapproved genetically engineered corn meant for animal feed not humans. Genetically modified pharmaceutical corn crossed to non-pharma corn and also contaminated soybeans in 2002 and the crops were destroyed.

In Canada, the market for organic canola collapsed because GMO canola crossed into organic fields (pdf). The market for Canadian honey exports suffered, because a GMO trait found in pollen collected by honey bees was not approved for human consumption in Europe. In Texas, last year, Monsanto sold mislabeled bags of GE cotton seed and it was planted in areas where it was prohibited. EPA fined the company $2.5 million. Also last year, researchers found that GMO canola had crossed into wild plants, spread in part by trucks. "We found the highest densities of plants near agricultural fields and along major freeways," Professor Cindy Sagers told the BBC. "But we were also finding plants in the middle of nowhere -- and there's a lot of nowhere in North Dakota."

Although a study might suggest little chance of such transgressions with alfalfa, in the real world, glyphosate-tolerant alfalfa (genetically engineered to resist the herbicide glyphosate) has already spread to non-GMO fields. The USDA had to address this issue in its own court-ordered environmental impact statement (PDF, see Appendix V). In one section, the report states:

Following 2005-2007, the alfalfa seed production firms of Dairyland and Cal/West seeds reported a number of instances where GT (glyphosate-tolerant) transgene presence was detected in non-GT alfalfa seed production fields in Montana, Wyoming, Idaho, and California. In 2006, Dairyland farmers reported 11 of 16 fields contained detectable levels of GT transgene; 9 fields in Montana and single fields in each Wyoming and Idaho.

The USDA said the transgenic levels ranged from 0.2 percent to 0.9 percent, which it did not find problematic, although it would be an issue for GMO-sensitive markets. Last year, Cal/West found the GMO crop in 12 percent of 200 fields where it planted non-GMO alfalfa seed. 

The historian would likely consider the decision to deregulate GE alfalfa in a political context; looking at how a massive lobbying machine was able to push through the deregulation of the seed in concert with the new emphasis in the Obama administration to be more business-friendly. This decision, though, proved friendly to just one business interest. (Recall that USDA Secretary Tom Vilsack had floated a measured approach of “coexistance” precisely because of concerns about the impact on non-GMO farmers.)

Then there's the organic sector, where buyers are already refusing crop shipments due to GMO contamination, certifiers have told me. McWilliams stated this shouldn't be a problem. "The organic industry already allows less than 5 percent of its crops to be contaminated with synthetic pesticide drift," he wrote. This is just flat out wrong.

According to the USDA organic regulations, a product can't be labeled organic if it is found to have a prohibited substance (such as synthetic pesticides) at greater than 5 percent of its EPA tolerance level. What does that mean? Say the EPA allows a pesticide residue at up to 100 parts per million (ppm). If testing detects more than 5 ppm of that pesticide on an organic crop, it can't be sold as organic. That does not mean 5 percent of your organic crop can be contaminated with synthetic pesticides. And if synthetic pesticides are found, even from drift, the farmer has to find ways to mitigate the problem or risk losing certification.

In any case, that point is irrelevant, because genetic engineering is not a “prohibited substance” under organic regulations, where such thresholds apply. It’s a “prohibited method.” There is no stated threshold for its presence, so it's really not up to the organic farmer to just accept it. If organic seeds test positive for GMOs, they can't be planted by organic farmers to feed their organic cows. That's just the law.

But look at the issue another way. Alfalfa is the third largest commodity crop in the country, a minority of which is now grown with herbicides. The other top crops – corn, soybeans and cotton – have all been engineered to resist glyphosate. The result has been a rise in glyphosate use and glyphosate-resistant “superweeds.” Alfalfa was a useful rotation in keeping that evolutionary mutation at bay. No longer. Glyphosate use will grow and superweeds will continue to evolve to resist it, until the next more powerful weed killer is rolled out. McWilliams knows this, that's why he's careful to state glyphosate-resistance "presents no pest problems."  He ignores the weeds that farmers are now chopping down by hand or killing with more toxic herbicides.

Of course, I don’t pretend to know how all these issues will play out, but I am fairly confident that full deregulation will mean greater risks of transgenic contamination for those who don't want it. That is patently unfair. It would be like forcing a vegetarian to eat meat because, sorry, that’s all we’re serving these days. Or worse, not identifying the hidden meat in the dish (because GMOs aren't labeled). But by McWilliams logic, that would be "perfectly reasonable" to accept. And he's a vegetarian.

Vilsack caved on GM alfalfa, so what's the impact?

Agriculture Secretary Tom Vilsack decided this week to fully deregulate the planting of genetically modified alfalfa, so why should you care?

This move had been opposed by organic farmers and consumers because of the strong possibility that genetically modified alfalfa will cross-pollinate non-GM alfalfa. This has been recognized by the Supreme Court as potentially harmful to the organic sector, since organic foods cannot be produced with genetically modified crops. Once organic livestock are fed GM alfalfa, they can no longer be called organic.

The only appeasement the USDA offered were panels on studying ways to prevent contamination from occurring in the future. But this seems akin to studying ways to protect a forest after loggers have been allowed to cut down the trees.

The decision was a stunning reversal of a more measured approach that Vilsack appeared to be taking in December, when the USDA talked about considering the impact of the GM crop on other sectors of agriculture. But that was before he faced an uproar by the GM industry and the editorial page of the Wall Street Journal for playing nice with organic farmers. As George Siemon, head of the Organic Valley dairy co-operative, said: 

The biotech industry has waged a complete war on the Secretary of Agriculture for ... the consideration of a co-existence proposal. They used all their influence to have the Secretary’s job challenged. There here have been op-eds in major papers and magazines (“Sack Vilsack,” Forbes), special meetings with the White House, grilling by the Justice Department, endless lobbying, and on Thursday of last week, a Congressional member forum was held where the Secretary was taken to the wood shed and asked repeatedly why he had not approved RR-alfalfa sooner. All this for simply opening the coexistence conversation and acknowledging that property rights and other markets should be considered.

As Liana Hoodes, director of the National Organic Coalition, said: "Organic farmers and others are now left, once again, having to take all the precautions while biotech takes little responsibility."

So what's the potential impact?

1. Less organic forage crops. Why would any farmer plant organic alfalfa when he knows a farmer nearby is planting GM alfalfa? Not only will his costs be higher in terms of cultivating an organic crop, but the possibility now exists that the crop will not be organic once it's harvested. So why bother?

2. Fewer organic dairy farmers. Organic dairy farmers plant alfalfa in fields where their cows graze, but they may also buy hay for winter. With fewer sources of organic forages, costs for organic dairy farmers will rise. What's the smartest decision here: Reduce your risk by avoiding the organic market altogether. Or maybe buy your organic forage crops from China, as we've seen with soybeans.

3. Higher prices for organic consumers. If the supply of organic forages falls, the cost will rise. Organic dairy farmers will either be squeezed and go under or organic milk prices will rise. The impact: higher prices at the checkout counter for moms and dads buying organic milk for their kids. (Or maybe we'll see more imports of organic milk powder from nations with stricter GM controls to keep the market going.)

4. Less investment in organic meat. Organic meat has been a fast growing sector of the market, but why would anyone invest in this business if you could be disqualified by contaminated feed? The rational business decision would be to ignore the U.S. and invest in organic operations outside the U.S. -- Uruguay anyone?

5. Fewer conventional export opportunities. The contamination of rice fields by GM test plots in Louisiana led to multimillion dollar law suits. Why? Conventional rice farmers lost markets in countries that didn't want to import GM rice. The same could be true of forages -- that is, unless the U.S. is successful in getting the rest of the world to buy GM crops as the State Department is trying to do. 

Now you might argue over whether Round-Up Ready Alfalfa is safe or not. But long before that argument's settled, organic farmers will face major economic losses -- the same small farmers that the USDA likes to present as poster children for agriculture. 

The other possibility is that organic farmers, certifiers, processors, retailers and consumers knowingly accept some degree of genetically modified crops -- despite regulations preventing it. Either way, consumers will take a hit -- in what way or how big a hit? Only time will tell.

- Samuel Fromartz

A toast to Bittman and the final "Minimalist" column

I'm not sure when it happened, but there was a certain period in the late 1990s when I began to religiously read Mark Bittman's Minimalist cooking column in the Times. I had already been cooking avidly by then, but the column opened up new horizons. I can't even begin to count the number of times I read the column and tried the recipe -- that same day. His approach was liberating, since it demanded little more than what you already had in your kitchen. Bittman explained the approach in his final column:

I refused to buy into the notion that there was a “correct” way to prepare a given dish; rather, I tried to understand its spirit and duplicate that, no matter where I was cooking. For months I lived with a hot plate and a combination convection-microwave oven. When I needed to roast something I borrowed a friend’s kitchen. For years after that I cooked in others’ kitchens more than my own; the column never missed a beat. Thus I have no patience for “I’d love to cook but I have a lousy kitchen.”

For guys especially, this was liberating. They didn't have to cook like their mother  -- or anyone else for that matter, though you could cook your way around the world. Again, Bittman:

To me the question was not, “Would I cook this as a native would?” but rather, “How would a native cook this if he had my ingredients, my kitchen, my background?” It’s obviously a different dish. But as Jacques Pépin once said to me, you never cook a recipe the same way twice, even if you try. I never maintained that my way of cooking was the “best” way to cook, only that it’s a practical way to cook. (I’m lazy, I’m rushed, and I’m not all that skillful, and many people share those qualities.)

So thanks, Mark, for all your help. I even ended up using a recipe of yours tonight, but took it in my own direction, combining soup, lentils and brown rice. It riffed off your ideas but in the end it was mine. Which is how I think you'd like it.

For those who are interested, here are his top-25 favorites.

- Samuel Fromartz

Tips on Berlin food? Visit the food bloggers

image from www.flickr.com

image from www.flickr.comCurrywurst at Witty's

In preparation for a visit to Berlin, I put out the word in my social networks that I was looking for tips about places to eat and food to see. I had seen David Lebovitz's post on this subject and Kerrin Rousset over at My Kugelhopf, but I had barely scratched the surface.

Two people suggested I get ahold of Luisa Weiss, over at The Wednesday Chef who is working on a book about Berlin -- and I was glad that I did. Not only did I get some tips, I actually got to meet a bunch of other bloggers for real socializing, not just the electronic kind, at Luisa's home. They are the people behind these English-language sites:

You shouldn't miss the currywurst (if you eat meat), but I felt it was more of an initiation -- I had it once, and maybe that was enough. Basically, it's a fried sausage smothered in ketchup and curry powder. Pictured above is the organic currywurst stand at Witty's, just across from the KaDeWe department store (with its massive food section). But it was far from the best thing I ate in Berlin. My favorite was the pickled herring and smoked fish, food I associate with my Jewish roots but which I now realize is just typical of northern and eastern Europe.

image from www.flickr.com

- Samuel Fromartz

Salt, sugar and a Berlin farmers' market

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Just a few days ago, Wal-Mart announced that it would push to cut the salt and sugar content of its processed food products. In the debate over this announcement -- was it enough? -- Jane Black hit the right note. Cutting sugar and salt from foods too quickly won't work because people are hooked on them. The effort will take time and the five-year timetable doesn't seem unreasonable. However, as Tom Laskawy points out, it makes no sense to leave national nutrition policy up to companies.  

Which brings me to Berlin, where I happened to be this past week on research for my book on bread. A chef I met told me that when he visited the U.S. he found food exceedingly salty. Made me think of those restaurants which rely on specialty salts to season their dishes right before they're served: the bright note highlights certain flavors ... or does it? Salt can also be a culinary crutch, a quick fix to entice the palate. And I've got to say, in eating around Berlin, in take-away joints, pubs and sit down restaurants, the food is less salty and no one seems to have a problem with it. 

Now, back in DC, I eat most of my meals at home and don't rely on processed foods. I try to be rather judicious with salt, but even so, I've had food here that tasted under-seasoned. I had a wonderful split pea soup at the farmers' market in Prenzlauer Berg in East Berlin, for example, and found it very mildly seasoned, but it was richly flavored with spices and dill. Instead of salt there was vinegar at the tables where people stood and ate and it did the trick when I added a few drops. (Soup at a farmers' market? Actually there were few farmers here -- mostly venders selling prepared foods and drinks, from wine to olives, soups, bread and handmade Turkish flatbread with fillings). 

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Smoked fish is also usually very salty when you buy it in the states but I've found it less so here (he said, just having consumed a bagel, frischkase und lachs -- cream cheese and lox). It's not that they avoid salt, but people appear to use less of it. I'm finding the same thing with sweets too. Though I haven't consumed many, the afternoon cakes I've had were not cloyingly sweet.

The thing that doesn't seem to be in short supply is fat -- butter, of course, and the fat in meat-based products like sausages and brots that are extremely popular. What doesn't seem to be served much are greens and salads. I miss them. I've had enough cabbage and root veggies for awhile.

The bread -- or, rather, I should say, the hand-made artisan breads -- are also wholly different. They are filled with hefty whole grains, which is why I'm here. Eating a slice or two in the morning (with a bit of butter) will keep you going for a long time. This isn't like the airy baguettes or ciabattas everyone seems to like these days but exceedingly dense loaves spotted with coarse grain and seeds. Mixing these doughs at the bakery where I worked was eye-opening, since they hardly appeared like wheat-flour doughs. They were like whole grain breakfast cereals shaped into loaves. In fact, my idea when I get home is to try making them with a seven-grain mix and whole grain flour and see how they turn out.

We have gotten used to a lot of sugar, salt and refined flour in the U.S. -- which contribute to many diseases. But it doesn't have to be that way. And it doesn't mean the food will be bad, or lacking in taste, if we shift away from them. But it will be different and it takes time to get used to the change. But here's the thing -- once you do change, the old stuff just doesn't taste the same any longer. Once you've crossed over, highly refined carbs taste like what they are: treats not staples, and ones that are often too salty.

- Samuel Fromartz 

Worldwatch report highlights the lopsided discussion on Africa and food

image from www.chewswise.com


Last year, I had the opportunity to travel to Zambia for a project for Worldwatch. State of the World 2011: Innovations that Nourish the Planet, released Wednesday, focuses on many projects that were highly effective in both feeding people and raising incomes in Africa. Much of this work was chronicled on Nourishing the Planet blog, as researcher Danielle Nierenberg logged thousands of miles criss-crossing the continent meeting with farmers, researchers, NGOs and government officials. 

It was a refreshing perspective because so much of the discussion about agriculture in Africa focuses on production. Plant more. Increase yield. Improve seed technology. But there is really no silver bullet when it comes to food production and access and the relentless focus on technology ends up being lopsided and incomplete -- as I saw in Zambia.

image from www.flickr.comThe nation  produces more than enough food, much of it by small-scale farmers without tractors, irrigation or any form of transportation. But this excess food ends up rotting in warehouses and causes price crashes when it hits the market -- good for buyers but dismal for small-scale farmers who depend on these sales for their meagre income. Even so, some areas of the country still suffer from malnutrition and shortages. Why? There are many reasons, inadequate roads and supply networks among them, since it isn't always easy to get the food from areas where it is surplus to areas where it is in short supply. In this reality, hi-tech seeds are the least of the nation's problems. And yet, on op-ed pages, that often seems to be the focus of discussion.

How come we hardly see op-eds on what paved roads, improved sanitation, more efficient distribution networks, soil conservation and a reduction in food waste might do for world hunger? Fifteen percent of the grain harvest is wasted in poorer countries, according to a researcher quoted in this report.  Even cutting that in half would amount to an enormous yield gain. The Worldwatch report attempts to jump-start this discussion by addressing these issues. I sought to do the same in my chapter:

The Missing Links: Going Beyond Production

When people talk about African agriculture, food surpluses are not usually the focus of discussion. Invariably, the more familiar topics are famine, starvation, deforestation, and the vast inability of a continent to feed itself, which is brought home by the latest food crisis.

That’s why the headlines in Lusaka, Zambia, in May 2010, were so surprising, announcing a stunning bumper crop of maize. On the back of fertilizer subsidies and propitious rains, production by the nation’s 800,000 maize farmers had rocketed 48 percent to the highest level in 22 years. This boom came after a 31-percent rise the previous year. Now speculation was mounting about a crash in maize prices, especially during the dry June-August period. “A tidal wave of maize will be hitting the market,” predicted Rob Munro, a senior market development advisor for the U.S. Agency for International Development (AID) in Lusaka.

In the cities, the focus was on the price of mealie meal, the porridge-like staple made from ground maize, and whether millers would pass on savings or fatten their profit margins. The government was fretting about what to do with all this food. Zambia had a 600,000-ton surplus from the 2009 harvest, some of which was still sitting in warehouses. And now on top of that, it would reap a 1.1 million–ton surplus for 2010. Exports were uncertain, because of sporadic trade restrictions. Plus, the crop was uncompetitive with South African maize, the low-cost producer in the region.

Zambia was growing so much food that the food itself had become an issue. Yet, it was also an unequivocal success. Zambian farmers had produced more than enough maize and done so without genetically modified crops or even, for the most part, irrigation and mechanized farm equipment. But further development raised a number of questions: If farmers actually modernized and improved their yields, would the surplus be even greater, dwarfing any political ability to deal with this bounty? And why were people still facing chronic hunger and childhood stunting in a country where the food was in oversupply?

The rest of the chapter addresses this issue, but it was clear from even my short stay in Zambia that a lack of agro-technology was not the most pressing issue faced by the nation's farmers. From those I talked with, it hardly seemed on the radar screen in terms of what needed to be addressed. Ignoring technology can be disastrous, but focusing on it out of context, and without regard to a host of related concerns, can be just as perilous since it suggests that food insecurity can be solved with a silver bullet. Only problem is silver bullets can't be eaten. 

- Samuel Fromartz

Heading to Berlin

image from library.msstate.edu

As part of my book research, I am heading to Berlin for 10 days. I'll spend part of the time in a bakery trying to learn about rye and whole grain breads. If anyone out there has any suggestions for must-see, must-eat, must-do things in Berlin during this frigid month let me know. I hope to be posting at least some pictures on the blog. (The one above is just after the fall of the Berlin wall in 1989). 

 

California Recipe: Strawberries with a dose of Methyl Iodide

image from students.washington.edu

Several years ago, looking into the differences between organic and conventional farming methods, I focused on strawberries as a case study.

At the time, conventional growers depended on methyl bromide, a potent neurotoxin that is injected into the soil to kill pests and diseases. The applicators wore full body suits with gas masks. The ground was covered in plastic to help keep the toxic gas contained. These fields looked like something out a futuristic moonscape, covered in plastic with workers in full hazmat suits. It was just one of the many toxic chemicals used in the conventional strawberry regime. I described all this in a chapter of my book Organic, Inc. Many people told me that after they read that chapter they never bought a conventional strawberry again.

Methyl bromide was always particularly controversial. Law suits were filed because of drift of this pesticide to nearby public schools on the central coast of California, the heart of the strawberry industry. The issue for the courts: Was the drifting chemical at sufficiently low levels to be safe?

You had the usual sides drawn, with growers who feared losing a cherished tool and farmworker and environmental advocates worried about toxicity. The result was that the state set what it considered a "safe level" of use, with widened buffer zones and requirements on when the chemical could be sprayed. But I found the evidence of a "safe level" less than convincing. Knowledge about the effects of chronic exposure to the chemical were not iron clad and a panel that explored the issue was split. 

Organic growers avoided nearly all chemicals and relied on crop rotations, beneficial insects and vacuums to suck up the bugs. (A  NY Times article explains organic methods here). Though their yield was lower, organic farmers were successful because of the premium paid for organic. 

Methyl bromide eventually was phased out under a UN treaty, because it contributed to a hole in the ozone layer. Growers got extensions for years to keep using the chemical but they knew the end was in sight and so turned to other chemicals. Methyl iodide was the most promising, though even conventional growers told me that they thought the chemical was more toxic than methyl bromide. Its saving grace -- no ozone depletion in the atmosphere.

This week, California, which has among the most rigorous pesticide regulations in the nation, approved methyl iodide for use. This came despite the unanimous findings of its own scientific panel against approval of the chemical. California Watch quoted a member of this panel.

"It is my personal opinion that this decision will result in serious harm to California citizens, and most especially to children," wrote panel member Theodore Slotkin, a professor of pharmacology and cancer biology at Duke University.

But the state overruled the panel and found that, based on a risk assessment, the pesticide could be safely used. In doing this, they followed 47 states. Had they outlawed it, California growers no doubt would have argued they were no longer competitive.

Like methyl bromide, methyl iodide is most hazardous to those who use it in the fields and to those who come into contact with its drift. It does not linger, like other pesticides, on the fruit itself. I wonder, if the state or even the EPA, would have thought differently about the pesticide, if there was a consumer risk. Farm workers and farm communities tend to be abstract and distant -- we don't know who these people are. Often, because they are immigrants, they remain silent. We don't attend the schools abutting the fields. I just wonder, if we did, whether the outcome would have been different.

- Samuel Fromartz

Image source: UW Farm blog, "New Study Weighs in on Organic vs. Conventional Debate"


Cold Frame: the 30-minute spinach induced version

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After five years of gardening, I finally took the plunge to garden in the winter. Now, I've grown stuff in the winter before, like lettuce, which last year made it through 30-inches of snow and produced full heads in March. Or radishes, kale, and other winter hardy crops.

But this experiment with a cold frame, or small hoop house, was built out of frustration with my inability to grow spinach. For those who live in the mid-Atlantic, or maybe just Washington D.C, you know growing spinach can be tough. Plant it in the early spring and it bolts quickly. Sow seed in late summer for a fall crop and it fails to germinate because it's too hot. 

So I put up this mini-green house. It's very easy, based on a clip system from Territorial Seeds and a greenhouse plastic they also sell. You can get this stuff elsewhere but I had the catalog in front of me so just ordered it from them and both seemed to work well. The kit came with instructions which told me what else I would need.

So, for the size I wanted, I went to the hardware store and bought:

- Ten 2-foot lengths of half-inch rebar, which luckily I did not have to cut myself.

- 1/2-inch drip irrigation tubing. 

To build it, I pounded the rebar into the ground until only a six-inch section was protruding. I then cut the irrigation tubing into 6-1/2 foot lengths, inserting the tubing over the rebar. It naturally bent into the hoop shape. Now the instructions say you don't really need rebar, but I think it adds strength especially when it's windy.

Then I laid the plastic on top and secured it with the clips. 

It took all of 30 minutes, not including the time at the hardware store.

Since the plastic just reached the ground, I got a bale of hay and spread it around the base to add some insulation.

So what am I growing? I seeded bok choi, turnips, beets, and two varieties of spinach to see which one does better. I'm also growing red boston lettuce, spring onions and a few broccoli plants. The broccoli can grow outside but I put them under plastic because it's starting to get cold and the plants are still small. My theory is the heat will give the broccoli a jump to mature in December or January. Then, I'll start sowing my spring crops early.

So much for taking a winter break from gardening. But at least the spinach is coming up nicely!

- Samuel Fromartz