Two weeks on from the inspiring talk from Michael Pollan, my thinking about food has changed. It’s simplified. In the past, I’ve swung from gourmand to calorie counter, always chasing the best option for my interests at the time. Gluten-free, anti-oxidant, vitamins and minerals were words that would jump out at me with instruction to be healthier and maybe even happier.

The theme that resonated most throughout Pollan’s talk on ‘how to eat’ at the Opera House was the most basic. Common sense. I’ve always thought to be someone with a moderate to high level of common sense but, like most of us who live a western diet in Australia, it seems I have been confused about food. The oversaturation of ‘nutritionism’ as Pollan puts it, represents the good versus the evil nutrients and part of the problem is that the identity of good and evil keeps changing. A clear example Pollan, myself and no doubt most of us remember, for years margarine was good and butter was bad and now its exactly the opposite. Not only does this continually confuse the eater it also takes the pleasure out of the eating. It’s also clear that the over-emphasis on convenience is stripping our engagement with food, its preparation and where it comes from.

“The perimeter is where the real food is.”

In the US 75% of the money spent on healthcare goes to treating problems related to diet and I fear that we are we’re not too far off that in Australia. So who’s to blame? Are we docile humans at the mercy of advertising and unable to make the best decisions for our health and future? It seems its not that simple.

“A personal policy is a very powerful tool.”

A major cultural change went under way when women started to work. A discussion of sharing housework, including the cooking began and it wasn’t an easy discussion to have. Cue the fast food industry, a major player in the outcome of this confrontation. All the answers to end this conflict lay in the depths of a bucket of Kentucky fried chicken- an advertisers representation of women’s liberation.

“Culture is just a fancy word for your mum.”

Today, home ec’ responsibilities are more blurred and we face a future where the clarity lies in the sharing of cooking. With the aid of cooking TV shows representing burly, masculine men heading up the kitchen, the challenge is not quite what it was. Despite the negatives “cooking shows are designed to glue us to the couch”, chefs, he states, have become leaders in the food movement and are a positive force for social change.

Pollan strikes me as a humble, simple person who has no intention to instruct or bark out scientific evidence. He isn’t a scientist after all, nor is he a health or agricultural expert. Pollan is someone who realised that something was wrong with food and with a ‘critical, antagonistic and investigative’ view went to find what it was. He doesn’t pretend to have all the answers and is quick to admit the complexity of the problem.

On the topic of locavore, he suggests it’s not the only answer but agrees by localizing to a certain extent we shorten the food chain and help to sustain farmland. He points more to the benefits of building an alternative economy in the name of diversity. With agriculture the threat of a ‘monoculture’ could be fatal for a healthy food system and we need all sorts of ways to feed the world. But to change the way we eat, we need to change our agricultural policies. So, the question is asked: do we need genetically modified crops to feed the world? No, Pollan says and believes that in ten years we won’t be talking about it as companies like Monsato haven’t had the successes they originally thought they’d have. The simple fact that GM products aren’t labeled in most countries sites a contradiction and as Pollan puts it “if it’s so good, tell us about it.”

In getting back to basics, Pollan believes that the biggest problem around food is our thoughtlessness. Eating is not a hardship. It is in fact a component of pleasure. The best is the most sustainable and time spent cooking can make up for money. So with no trade off at stake, lets not turn our thoughtlessness from a first world problem to a global catastrophe. All it takes is a bit of common sense.

This post is also appears on  www.youthfoodmovement.org.au and www.ourfoodfuture.com

In less than a month since Woolworths launched their new campaign ‘Australia’s Fresh Food people‘, the supermarket giant has come down harder than ever on the Australian suppliers and producers who provide their ‘fresh food’.

With Coles and Woolworths dominating 80% of the market they can squash independent rivals by initially offering lower prices to consumers and then later increase their prices so consumers are left only paying more for their groceries. But its the producers and suppliers who draw the shortest straw, with no competition to sell too they are left having to accept the deals that barely cut them a profit.

This week, Woolworths have given their suppliers two weeks to cut their prices by up to 10% or have their products swiped of the supermarket shelves.  Like bulldozers in the bush, the supermarket giants have been charging at suppliers with unrealistic demands leaving the smaller companies and farmers with little choice but to oblige.  Whether or not this means cut costs to consumers or not – or just blatent profit gain – woolies have little regard for the effects these measures have on the already stretched businesses that supply them.

An example of the price war pain is when Coles and Woolworths cut their generic brand milk to just $1.  Dairy farmers have been struggling for years at the hands of extreme weather events with droughts and floods as well as an economic climate that has seen better days. So when farmers come from environmental conditions that are already test their businesses to unfair market conditions they’re left vulnerable to the nasty market bullies that offer far less than what their product is worth.

Rather than feeling powerless, a general common knowledge of these practices among shoppers will transfer all the power necessary to change them.  As Hawksbury-based farmer and supplier @JohnstoneFarmer tweeted ”@Sally_Ayhan vote with your feet & support local markets is best way to show u don’t like these business practices”.  Its that simple and its straight from the farmers finger tips.

This article also features on www.youthfoodmovement.org.au

The Australian Farm Institute released research that found only 28% of Victorian farms made enough profit to support their own families.  That’s crazy!

Its even scarier when put like this: 72% of Australian family farms don’t earn enough to support the family on them.

To think that we’re talking about the people who get up every day at the crack of dawn to grow, nurture and harvest our fresh fruit and veg so that we can walk away with a bag of truss tomatoes from a supermarket chain for $2 a kilo. The price wars are affecting the most important people in our supply chain, the people who in today’s society make it possible for us to eat.

It seems that if there is ever a good time to support your local grower or farmers market then its now.  With 20% of farmers producing 80% of production, most of them corporate farms, the small family farm is steadily dwindling. They are relying on the local farmers markets and the hospitality sector to sell their produce more than ever.

This sheds even more light on the falsity of the new woolies campaign.  How many quirky farmer jo’s wearing a flimsy hat, perched on top of a tractor are the chains supporting?  My guess is not many.

No wonder the young farmers are steering away from a future on the land if this is what they have to look forward to.

However, with more thought put to each dollar spent on food, who we’re giving it to and where it will end up then i’d like to think that we can bring back the Aussie family farm as a sustainable, profitable and worthy career.  All it takes, is that little bit more thought for food.

This post also features on www.youthfoodmovement.org.au

Last week, Woolworths decided it wants us to get to know their supply chain.  So much so that they have changed their whole branding concept, catch phrase and website. They’ve dug deep on the marketing front.  But does this mean the dominating food bodies are listening to what people want and answering the demand for more ‘connection’ with food beyond the sterile, cold, florescent lit supermarkets?  Not quite.  It doesn’t take much to see the cracks when clicking through their shiny, florescent new website.

They’ve tried to present themselves on a local level, changing their catch phrase from fresh food people to Australia’s fresh food people.  But that’s exactly what it is, a catch phrase and its going to take a lot more than a catch phrase to gain the trust of customers who are increasingly skeptical.

Not only that, they’re marketing team have thought…. ‘People want to know who their food comes from so lets tell them!!!!’.  In doing so they’re introducing us to not only the farmer but the truckie, the butcher, grocer, store manager, fish monger and the deli guy.  Oh and they want us to ‘get to know’ them so much that we get a lil’ video of their fabulous work life at woolies. Subtle.

The first reaction to the press release hit the nail on the head here:

“Where is the benefit for customers? This is a glorified internal staff promo. Shows how far Woolies have their head up their own ass, out of touch”. Greg, mUmBRELLA

What I’d like to know in these lil ‘get to know me’ vids is how much Mr Farmer is getting paid, how many kilometres Mr Truckie clocks every delivery, what is fed to Ms Butchers chickens to make them so perfectly rounded and if the deli dude knows that most of the kalamata olives he serves are from Greece.  Yes, please.

They boast to supply 96% of the their fresh fruit and veg from within Australia and 100% of their meat.  But if our apples and tomatoes are coming from WA we’re talking food miles way over 4000 km.  What about our beef?  European farming methods aren’t sustainable, are their producers working within the environmental limitations of our land and climate?

Nice concept but we’ll need a whole lot more juice than what Woolies wants to provide:

“Put your money where your mouth is Woolworths. Nice campaign but it is ill fitting with the maga beast that is Woolworths. Woolworths screw their farmers and food companies to the wall, their produce is not seasonally fresh and it’s more difficult to find the aussie apples and oranges in amongst the imports. This is a campaign simply geared at making us feel better about the fact that there is a major duopoly and we have limited choice whilst we whistle the tune down the aisle. Woolworths no matter how sweet the campaign – you suck”.  -taste of reality, mUmBRELLA

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

This article is also published on www.youthfoodmovement.org.au

I never understood the value of a pomegranate until I lived in Turkey.  To be entirely honest, I’m not sure I really knew what a pomegranate was.   I knew that it made good juice and thats about it.

As it turns out, the absence of pomegranate in one form or another on a  Turkish dinner table is like a party without beer for Aussies, they just don’t quite know what to do without it.  But while its famed for its rich antioxidants and juicing qualities, the pomegranate capabilities extend far beyond the heaving pressure of a market sellers forearm clenched firmly around the uncompromising juice press about to seal its fate.

Away from the sidewalk of Galata and into a local lokanata, pomagranate in its purest form can be found in salads, stews and mezzes either as a molasses, juice or dressed with the seeds themselves.  The beautiful Turkish saying: “I bought one from the market and came home with a thousand” shares the poetic love affair the Turks have with the beloved fruit.

For next weeks 6 Degrees of Pomegranate, the star ingredient will be honored by Efendy’s  Somer Sivrioglu in two Turkish dishes and there is no better chef in Sydney to meet the challenge.  Once again Evan Pemberton will deliver his range of experimental dishes from a range of cuisines and we’ll be releasing the menu soon for all mouths to drool over.

Don’t forget to book your spot next Wednesday the 20th at Efendy restaurant in Balmain.  See the link below to secure your spot!

6 course, stand up degustation for $45

http://6degreesofpomegranate.eventbrite.com/

“Nearly half of the world’s population are aged 25 years and below, and it is these young people, and in particular young women and Indigenous peoples, who are most impacted by the broken food system”.  (OIYP)

Oxfam International Youth Partnerships (OIYP) is part of the global discussion surrounding hunger, waste and environmental degradation across the globe at this years UN conference on sustainable development, otherwise known as the Rio +20.  On the 20th of this month, thousands of people from across the globe will gather in Rio de Jenerio, Brazil to “actively advocate on behalf of their communities to secure a renewed political commitment to sustainable development.”

An incredible delegate group of 15 leaders from around the world will be joining OIYP in a few days.  Their cultural backgrounds are as diverse as their advocacy contexts and all 15 have strong strategies  to create a just and sustainable global food system where “everyone has enough to eat, always.”

OIYP are key in discussing one of the most important global issues we face today and experienced, knowledgeable, passionate youth will have their voices heard and the following addressed:

“Food justice is under the spotlight now more than ever. Food and fuel prices continue to rise, chronic hunger and vulnerability is a reality for more people as each day passes, the impacts of climate change is growing more evident and widespread, natural resources are eroded and scarce, sustainable production is constrained, and access to land, markets and technology is an increasing challenge for vast populations. High levels of youth unemployment, coupled with large proportions of young people from Africa, Asia and Oceania working in the agricultural sector and other low income sectors, demonstrate that young people are most vulnerable to the impacts of the global food crisis. This is further exacerbated by the fact that young people experience greater isolation and alienation from decision-making processes that directly affect them.”

Find out more about the delegate team and their causes at http://oiyp.oxfam.org.au/

Food professionals are in a tricky business.  Regardless of what the industry; restaurants, producers, farmers, or market sellers, the consumer dictates what is bought and sold.  Not only that, supply and demand of the food industry is perhaps the most challenging aspect.  Determining how much fresh produce needs to be ordered for a restaurant, grown by a farmer or available at the market is rarely met with the exact demand.

Whether it’s blemished/imperfect produce, over ordering or short shelf life, so often food business are left with a surplus of good quality, edible food that ends up in the bin.   In fact more than 21.5% of Australian business waste is food and in Sydney alone, business’s send 300, 000 tonnes of food to land fill each year!  So how do business deal with their food waste in a manner that benefits the broader community, the disadvantaged and that minimises their environmental impact?

Food businesses can find the answers in a new ‘how-to’ guide to food donation. It makes the process simple by detailing the benefits, answering common questions and introducing businesses to NSW’s three largest food charities – OzHarvest, SecondBite and Foodbank.  Many businesses still believe they are unable to donate their surplus food for legal reasons. However, this is not the case and the tool kit explains clearly the legislation and responsibilities of the donor.

You can access the tool kit as a free download from the Foodwise and the LoveFoodHateWaste websites (http://foodwise.com.au/get-foodwise/the-food-donation-tool-kit.aspx)

This post also appears on http://www.youthfoodmovement.org.au/

GOAT BISTEEYA  (Morocco)

Many people said this was a standout dish, a mix of sweet and sour; the filo pastry layered with almonds contrasts a sweet crunch with  the spicy goat mince stuffing.  The dusting of icing sugar  is typical of minced pastries in the middle east and I remember vividly the sugary lamb borek Utku and I used to gobble down for a special weekend breakfast with his family in Istanbul.  A really interesting and easy to eat, canape-style dish.  Serves 40

800g goat mince
2 red onion 2 cloves of garlic
1 tsp ginger, finely chopped
1 long green chili, finely chopped
1 stick cinnamon
1/2 tsp saffron thread
250ml veal / goat stock
50g slithered almond
1tsp icing sugar
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
6 sheets of filo
melted butter
egg wash (1 egg beaten)
1/2 a bunch of chopped coriander
Seal the goats mice in a heavy pan, removed when browned to bowl to cool. Sweat the onions, garlic, ginger, chili in the same pan until soft. Add again the mince, cinnamon stick, saffron and stock and cook slowly until the liquid evaporates then leave aside to cool. Toast the almonds in ovens and finely chop, ad icing sugar and ground cinnamon. Brush the filo with butter and add almond mix between layers, keep making layers (filo butter, almonds). Place the filo sheets in a bowl or cake tin so that the edges hang over. Add the egg and coriander to the cold goat mix. Spoon the mix into the filo then enclose the edges to form a pie. Bake for 15-20 mins at 180 degrees and when ready sprinkle with icing sugar.

]]> http://www.thefoodanthropologist.com/2012/03/6-degrees-of-goat-biteeya-recipe/feed/ 0 http://www.thefoodanthropologist.com/2012/02/passata-day-the-preservation-of-tradition/ http://www.thefoodanthropologist.com/2012/02/passata-day-the-preservation-of-tradition/#comments Mon, 13 Feb 2012 02:16:30 +0000 Sally Ayhan http://www.thefoodanthropologist.com/?p=374

20 years ago, it would be fairly common for an Italian family of 30 to gather in a suburban Melbourne back yard to make their yearly Passtata stock.  They’d have their boxes of roma tomatoes, their ‘Passapomodoro’: a manual mincing machine ready to churn through the hundreds of blanched tomatoes, and most importantly, they’d have the strong Mediterranean bond of togetherness. These days it’s a rather different picture. Families are splitting from one another; the younger generations move interstate or overseas and home-made Passata no longer proves the cost-effective, practical alternative it once was. Today, the practice of Passata making carries not just the preservation of an over-supply of tomatoes but the preservation of a fading tradition.

Tania Cammarano is a PHD student researching the history of Italian food in Australia and remembers passata day as a tradition that carried with it strict guidelines. In her family there was a pecking-order production line that ensured all members had their role. She remembers the reluctance she and her cousins felt “As kids we were responsible for putting the basil in the jars, nothing more”.  A promotion came only to those committed enough to stick out the arduous weekend.  Graduating up the ladder could mean: helping the women scrapping or blanching the tomatoes and if you were male and diligent, the years ahead may see you sealing bottles, running the Passapomodoro and one day, like grandpa, you may just make it to production manager.

But as a kid, Tania didn’t really care about Passata and neither did her cousins.  Their reluctance to be educated in mastering the art of preserving tomatoes meant that when grandma or grandpa weren’t around the production line was immediately disjointed.  Like many young adults, Tania moved around.  From London to Sydney she spent 12 years away from her family, and every now and again she tried to make the passata family get-together. Over time she noticed the group dwindle, “It’s kind of sad, it’s broken down from the big community group to smaller get-togethers” she says.

Not only does this cultural and social change stem from the re-direction of priorities but the simple practicalities of making passata are proving harder and harder to perform.  Families had room to produce several hundreds of bottles of passata after a solid weekend of work.  Now, as suburbs see the rise in apartment living, producing and storing the fruits of this labour is impossible.  “My grandmother had an old bathtub in the back yard where we’d wash the tomatoes and at the end of the day we’d store up to 600 bottles of Passata in the chicken shed out the back” Tania reminisces. An apartment dweller herself, she wonders how the new generation will find the room.

Most believe that the fruits of nonna and co’s labour would well and truly rise above any factory made alternative. The supermarket varieties are assumed to be packed with preservatives and artificial flavouring. But walk an isle of the Italian delicatessen in Adelaide’s central market and rows of passata line the shelves with ingredients listed with only ‘tomatoes and salt’.  Not only that, a bottle of La Primavera natural passata sauce will only set you back $2.65, making it hard to compete with the hours of slicing, blanching, churning and bottling of a 20kg box of tomatoes.  Tania’s credentials reveal the most credible yet, objective response: “It tastes exactly the same” she responds without hesitation.  Her mother on the other hand tastes much more; “she tastes the nostalgia and memory which is why we still do it as a tradition”.  This is clearly the defining factor.  A bottle of Passata carries much more than liquid roma tomato pulp, it carries the love and companionship of family, bound by a purpose and rewarded with achievement.  The achievement, Tania says is the best part of all and comes in the form of a sumptuous Italian feast doused in freshly made passata.

“Every age has a different flavor,” my father in-law says to me over the phone from Istanbul.  It’s my 29^th birthday and the bittersweet taste of my 28^th year passing me by so quickly is replaced with the quiet wisdom of my Turkish in-law.  From the moment the day starts the flavors come.  Bundled in bed, the gentle raindrops tapping the tin roof outside slowly wake me to the sound of leisurely breakfast preparations.  Precise chopping, the kettle boiling and the smell of coffee brewing float up the stair well.   I hear the chinking of bowls and cups as my husband climbs the stairs as if to offer an encore to this early morning culinary experience. Laid out is a colorful bowl of deep yellow mango and glistening strawberry’s dressed with yoghurt and sunflower seeds. Firm yet gelatinous the mango stimulates my morning senses and prepares me for what’s next.  Nestled between the fragrant coffee and the fruit bowl is a plate of French pastries from the local patisserie; their appeal is indulgent and in someway scandalous for this time and day.   The crisp pastry contrasts the custard and sour cherry brings bursts of ‘zing’ across the roof of my mouth.

From breakfast to lunch, there is little time to waste, and we dine at Otto Ristorante on this still wet and dreary day.  Defiant against the odds we sit outside and order the Menu Del Giorno, a lunch special comprised of a cocktail, entree and main. Rolls of delicate prosciutto are accompanied with foamed goats curd, ripe figs, saba and olives.  Soft, spongy whole meal bread wipes the plate clean before I polish off my Aperol Splice cocktail.  Finally the Cone Bay Barramundi sits perched on a bed of parsnip puree, mushrooms and porcini dressing.  We glance at our watches and cringe at the time, 3pm and we have a family dinner in just 3 hours to make room for.

Regardless of what stomach state I’m in the family dinner is always the highlight.  A quick trip the fish market ensures a 2.5kg rainbow trout is in tow and a last minute special on mussels ignites an impromptu family favorite, Mussels Mariniere.  The clock strikes 7pm and my father cracks open a bottle of pungent Brittany cider.  Soon our chatter gravitates towards the table where my mother serves her elegant gazpacho, fresh and clean our palates are inspired with what comes next: the mussels.  The robust and mossy shells showcase the garlic and onion littered mussels that beckon to be released from their captors.  The white wine broth is rich with infused thyme, bay leaf and parsley and we soak its remains with crusty oven-warmed baguette.  The star of the evening is served the way he was intended to be; whole, rotund and cooked to perfection.  Rubbed with cumin we slice the trout’s side to reveal the tender pink of him, the still simmering juices ooze between the bones and slithers of flesh.  An accompaniment of yogurt and dill lifts the tender qualities of this rainbow treat and a snake bean and nectarine salad contrasts with a timely crunch.   The evening is topped with the sweet hit of hazelnut torte, laced with apricot puree and dusted with chocolate we surrender to its layered curves.

My top button is unfastened and I’m resting in the kind of gluttony that is only welcomed on two days of the year, this being one of them.  My father-in-laws words ring loud and clear after tasting the first flavors of my 29th year.  “Each age has a different flavor” and I plan on savoring them all.