This little piggy ate junk food

The Food Section linked today to a highly disturbing article from the Wall Street Journal. Lauren Etter reports that due to rising demand for corn-based ethanol, a biofuel subsidized by the U.S. government, corn prices have risen so much that farmers are seeking other foodstuffs to feed their livestock. The result? Pigs and other animals are increasingly being fed "cookies, licorice, cheese curls, candy bars, french fries, frosted wheat cereal and peanut-butter cups" and other "human" junk food as a main part of their diet. Some farmers even feed piglets a "Cocoa Puffs"-like mixture of chocolate powder and cereal.

Why is this so shocking, when humans eat this stuff every day? I'm not a nutritionist, but it is generally accepted that junk food is not good for you and is only acceptable as part of a balanced diet. According to the WSJ article some farmers are using 100% "byproducts" to feed their livestock. I accept that this may be a passable way to put flesh on the bones of these animals in terms of food safety (without considering animal welfare), but I don't eat cheesies and trail mix all the time and I don't want to eat an animal that has, either.

Lauren Etter also commented that "Thanks to the ethanol rush, the price of a bushel of corn for months has hovered around $4 -- nearly double the price of a few years ago. That has prompted livestock groups like the National Cattlemen's Beef Association and the National Chicken Council to call for an end to federal ethanol subsidies, including a 51-cent-per-gallon tax credit offered to companies that blend gasoline with ethanol. For now, livestock must pay up or make do with alternatives."

Of course farmers are concerned about their bottom lines and have to maintain a profit margin, but environmentally it seems to me that the business of feeding animals junk food goes against the grain (better watch out for those puns). Is it energy efficient to feed animals highly processed food so that corn can be used to produce subsidized biofuel? I don't know.

A "good thing"

While waiting for a friend the other day I got a chance to go into a bookstore that I have always wanted to peruse - McNally Robinson (52 Prince St). Not only do they have a little cafe with handsome baked goods (unfortunately I had just had breakfast so I didn't get to try any), but they have a well organized selection of books and magazines.

The periodicals were already looking good from afar with a couple of my favourite titles such as COLORS, the visually arresting, socially conscious magazine and Adbusters, the Canadian quarterly that is "concerned about the erosion of our physical and cultural environments by commercial forces." But the display featured a few titles I hadn't heard of, including a new-ish publication called Diner Journal.

Apparently the adage "good things come to those who wait" holds true in this case; I was waiting, and a good thing appeared. Diner Journal is a delightful small-scale quarterly published by the staff of Diner and Marlow & Sons, two restaurants in Brooklyn. Unusually, Diner Journal is committed to showcasing the restaurants' own recipes and sources for local, seasonal food. Highlights in the current Spring issue (No. 3) include maple syrup stories, an interview with Guy Jones of Blooming Hill Farm, and recipes featuring asparagus, ramps and rhubarb. Although they are not written for the novice cook, these recipes will inspire you to head to your local farmers market and try something new. Although I haven't cooked directly from the journal, I did use their advice about ramps ("use them in everything as you would garlic") inspired me to put them in an asparagus and lemon risotto to great effect.

Diner Journal is not technically a zine since it is a commercial venture, but the layout and typography (and handwriting) and limited distribution (as far as I know DJ is only available at McNally Robinson or by subscription) of the publication place it in the middle ground between independent zines and bigger restaurant mags. The BLT restaurant empire has recently come out with BLT Living, a high-gloss quarterly complete with full page advertisements which is given to customers at BLT restaurants free, as reported in an article by Florence Fabricant in The New York Times. Diner Journal has no advertising (but has a cute grocery-style price tag of $7.50 on the inside cover) and comes with three hole punches down the side to help you store and reuse it.

A short piece in New York Magazine also contrasted Diner Journal with BLT Living, but likened it to Chez Panisse publications, which I have never had the fortune of reading. There must be many more small, worthy food publications, so I'm on the lookout.

The Five-Second Rule

You know you've used it, but does it work? Yesterday in The New York Times, Harold McGee wrote an article on whether we can actually trust food that has been on the floor for less than five seconds. According to him, there is truth behind the notion that the longer food is on a surface the more bacteria it picks up. However, very small numbers of some microbes can still make us sick. Hence, McGee gives us the updated rule: "If you drop a piece of food, pick it up quickly, take five seconds to recall that just a few bacteria can make you sick, then take a few more to think about where you dropped it and whether or not it’s worth eating." Sounds reasonable to me.

Hausgemacht Fro-Yo

For all of the frozen yogurt lovers who were as disappointed with Pinkberry as I was (see the post), I think I may have found a good alternative. Heidi Swanson over at 101 Cookbooks just blogged about a great recipe from David Lebovitz's new book, The Perfect Scoop. It's simple (containing just yogurt and sugar, with optional vanilla) and adaptable, so you can make the frozen treat to your taste at home, which I am going to try as soon as possible. Check out her post for the recipe and gorgeous photograph.

Building a library...

When I was upstate last weekend I did some cookbook shopping – one of the only kinds of shopping it is important to do on a full stomach. I bought a couple of books to add to my NY library, which made the collection a grand total of four. But then friendly brown box came in the mail this morning; and then there were five.

I miss a lot of the cookbooks that I left in London, particularly my collection of Nigella Lawson's books and, now that it's springtime, my River Cafe Two Easy by Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers which contains lots of great ideas for fresh vegetables, antipasti, pasta and fish. I rarely follow a recipe word for word (though I'm sure this is not a good thing) so I don't miss having particular recipes, but I do miss the inspiration that a flip through a great cookbook can give. The only "inspirational" type book that I have here in New York is Nigel Slater's The Kitchen Diaries. The photos themselves could melt in your mouth, and as the focus is on seasonal eating, it's great for a quick peruse before or after a trip to the farmer's market.

I feel that every recipe collection should have a basic "methods" cookbook which will actually teach you how to make things, no matter how competent you think you might be. Mark Bittman's How To Cook Everything fills this position in my NY collection, appropriately since he is a food writer for The New York Times. His cookbook is a modern take on the basics, and contains a refreshing mix of multicultural recipes. The "pasta" section, for instance, contains authentic recipes for penne arrabbiata, cold soba noodles and pad thai. Clear black and white illustrations explain the most complicated steps visually, and there are lists of basics gadgets and tools that are necessary, and others that are not. Other cookbooks that can the same purpose as this in a recipe collection include The Fanny Farmer Cookbook and Delia Smith's Complete Cookery Course to name just a few. I find that allegiance to these cookbooks is often passed down through generations, hence the sustained popularity of seasoned classics such as The Joy of Cooking which are regularly updated.

An outdated retro-classic was one of my two purchases last weekend. The 1963 edition of The New Good Housekeeping Cookbook shows its age with recipes like "Chicken a la King Surprise" containing just one package of frozen chicken a la king, 4 bread slices and sharp cheese spread. I will not be making that any time soon. There are also guidelines for the "glamourous serving" of vegetables, in fact the whole book encourages you to "serve with a flair" - see the "Snowy Orange Cup" on the right. Not my cup of tea either. However, there are recipes for old stand-bys that I will try, like candied sweet potatoes and a coffee cake which, surprisingly, contains fresh ground cardamom seeds. That's more like it.

The other two books in my collection are part cookbook, part memoir, and both are in my pile of books to read. M.F.K. Fisher's With Bold Knife and Fork contains foodie anecdotes and a few recipes, and follows the structure of a traditional cookbook from appetizers to drinks and desserts. Barbara Kingsolver's new book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle retells the story of her family's quest to eat locally for a year. Reviews to follow.

Upstate Escape

A friend recommended Hudson, New York to me as an antique shopping destination that is easily accessible from the city. Just a two hour train ride from Penn Station, Hudson is fast becoming a home away from home for urbanites not only with a keen eye for art and architecture but with a keen palette, too.

Once a prominent port and industrial city, Hudson fell into decline in the late 19th century when prostitution and gambling became the most prominent trades in the town, as documented in Bruce Edward Hall’s book Diamond Street: The Story of the Little Town With the Big Red Light District. After years of recession and decay, Hudson is regenerating thanks to the foresight of antique dealers who took up shop in some of Hudson’s charming period buildings in the 1980s. A walk up and down it’s main street, Warren Street, showcases many pristinely refurbished Victorian homes, but the revival is still underway; fixer-uppers are not hard to find, either. They include the town's opera house, which is partially refurbished as a community arts center with exhibition space, but whose main auditorium still awaits refurbishment. Visit the Hudson Opera House (327 Warren Street, (518) 822-1438) or their website for before and after pictures, details of exhibitions and a history of the building.

Architecture and design treasures are not the only ones to be found in this town; there are plenty of cultural and culinary riches on offer. Our trip took us to many antique and junk shops with tempting offerings like vintage Pyrex bowls and mid-century flatware.

Bookshops are my favourite places to while away a few hours on holiday. Hudson City Books (553 Warren St, (518) 671-6020) has a good selection of used cookbooks, from practical classics like Mollie Katzen’s The Moosewood Cookbook to tomes like Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duquid’s coffee-table worthy Hot, Sour, Salty, Sweet. At The Spotty Dog Books & Ale (440 Warren Street (518) 671-6006) you’ll find an expertly chosen selection of books including, but not limited to local history, cooking, and baking and you can be even more leisurely in your book shopping by pausing at the bar for a local brew. The atmosphere is young, friendly and focused on community – The Spotty Dog hosts lots of events, including a quiz night. Here you’ll find an expertly chosen selection of books including, but not limited to, cooking, baking, wine and beer.

The culinary highlight of our trip was dinner at Swoon Kitchenbar (340 Warren Street, (518) 822-8938) on Saturday night. The place was humming Manhattan-style and reservations were essential. We sat at the bar and were given excellent recommendations by the bartender, including a very reasonable but excellent bottle of white wine and the charcuterie and gravadlax appetizers, both made in house. The terrine included in the charcuterie selection had a perfect texture midway between a smooth pate and a chunky meatloaf, and was served with sweet-sour cornichons that cut through the rich taste of liver. The appetizers were accompanied by fresh, warm bread. Swoon prides itself on fresh, local ingredients as evidenced by the list of suppliers on the back of their menus, which change daily.

Our fantastic meal continued with homemade papardelle with duck gizzard confit and wild mushrooms, and pan-roasted Maine monkfish. A hazelnut cake for me, and a panna cotta with rhubarb for Jan, were more than we needed, but were still happily received.

The feast at our bed and breakfast on Sunday morning was the most unexpected gastronomic treat of the trip. Reading about a local bakery, Jan thought he was imagining the smell of baking wafting upstairs, but it was real. When we went downstairs to the gorgeous dining room, we were treated to a spread of cereals, fresh fruit and yoghurt, and most importantly – home made quiche Lorraine, banana bread and scones.

Paul Barrett, the owner of The Country Squire Bed & Breakfast (251 Allen Street, (518) 822-9229), was a gracious host. He agreed that the quality of many restaurants in Hudson rivals New York City establishments, and recommended that we try Ca’ Mea (333 Warren St, (718) 822-0005) for its great Italian food. Unfortunately we didn't have time to get there. Looks like we’ll just have to go to Hudson again.

Underground dining

The Ghetto Gourmet was my first gastronomic blind date.

The "original underground experience" was set up in Oakland, California by two brothers, a chef and a poet, looking to feed and entertain people in an unconventional manner. They began to put together weekly dinners in their living room, and the movement grew larger and larger. Now events are run across the country and range from intimate gatherings to groups of more than fifty people, usually with food from local guest chefs. The Ghetto Gourmet has been cited in The San Francisco Chronicle and in Budget Travel magazine, where I read about it.

I had to go. Sadly, their only upcoming NYC event had sold out, but I signed up for their newsletter anyways and sent an email pleading for any return tickets. The team decided to have another NYC event, and this one was called GG Roots – back to the roots of the organization, a small dinner for 15 hosted in someone’s apartment with Joe, the original chef, in the kitchen. I signed up online and paid for the $75 ticket online, not knowing where I was going or what I would eat.

I decided to drag a few friends along, but couldn’t tell them where to meet me until the day of the event when I received an email with an address and a request to bring a cushion. We found ourselves at the East River, in an over sized dorm-like living room with a view of the water. The lights were low and candles and flowers adorned both the apartment and the low table in the middle of the room that would seat us. We cracked open some of the wine (it’s BYOB) and began to mingle.

Initially everyone was quite shy. We introduced ourselves to everyone in the room, but gravitated back to our own little groups quite quickly. This changed once we all sat down at the table.

We had a rousing introduction by Jeremy, the poet, which included the two rules of the evening: give thanks and hold on to your fork. He lightened the mood significantly, and we all got chatting as the first course arrived. The rest of the food arrived in quick succession which was an amazement considering the size of the kitchen. The enticing menu read:

"Beef tartar w/ parmesan crisp, parsley salad, red salt and aioli

Ghetto house salad w/ cucumber wrap, bleu cheese, bacon and buttermilk dressing

Burbon braised chicken thighs w/ potato salad and coleslaw

Pork tenderloin w/ creamed collard greens, white beans and pepper vinegar sauce

Cheese plate with caramel apple and berries" [sic]

The food did not disappoint. The flavours in every dish married very well, the combination of textures was considered (particularly in the beef tartare) and there were many things that stood out in my mind. The hawaiian red salt with the beef tartare was delicious, the blue cheese was an outstanding choice, and one I've never had before (called Roaring Forties, from Australia) and the pork tenderloin was perfectly pink in the middle, a tribute to the chef and (hopefully) to the quality of the meat he was serving. The cheese plate was a creative combination of mini toffee apples, cheese, berries and cotton candy with sprinkles, and Joe encouraged us to try the sprinkles with the cheese - an unlikely pairing, but actually really good. The only complaint we had was that the potatoes in the potato salad were slightly undercooked.

We had a quick break before the pork tenderloin course for a game, a story about the community that has evolved out of Ghetto Gourmet and for a little massage circle to break down barriers further. Everyone was a good sport and participated, perhaps thanks to a few glasses of wine. Massage is not the first thing you expect to do with a room full of strangers, but you don’t come to an event like this without an open mind to begin with.

Overall the evening was a little like eating cheese with sprinkles - not something you often do but it actually turns out quite well. We ate excellent food and got to share it with some interesting people – a publisher, pharmacist, dancer and architect among them. I’ve been looking out for more opportunities like this. A similar New York venture has begun called Homeslice West, what they call a “culinary speakeasy” aiming to bring people together over a modern take on Southern food. All meals include a signature cocktail and homemade buttermilk biscuits with honey butter. Yum. There is also The Whisk and Ladle, a supperclub based in a Williamsburg loft. Their logo, like Ghetto Gourmet's, is based on the skull and cross bones, but from their website the premise is much more classic. They host meals based on the "traditional structure of a dinner party" with dishes such as salmon poached in white wine with shiitake mushrooms.

So far I don’t know of any similar things going on in London, but I suppose that’s the point. They’re underground. What I do know is that after the success of our first date, I’ll be seeing Ghetto Gourmet again. I just have to find an event that's not sold out.

Bravo!

I must admit I was slightly proud to see an article about fellow food blogger, Clotide Dusoulier, in The New York Times Magazine this weekend. Dusoulier's blog "Chocolate and Zucchini" is a showcase for her passion for food as well as her idyllic life in Montmartre, Paris. Following in the tradition of her quartier, her recipes are creative and sometimes verging on the avant-garde (Broccoli and Apple Quiche). Her blog is is so wildly popular that she has written a book of the same name that will be released May 15. I can't wait to buy it for the Apricot and Pistachio Ricotta Cake recipe alone.

Chocolate-induced stress

Perhaps you have suffered from it too? Chocolate anxiety; that feeling I get when I want to make the perfect creation of chocolatey goodness can’t find the right thing to make. The dreaded feeling happens most just before birthdays or parties. It helps to know that I am not the only one; according to Julia Moskin’s article on brownies in the New York Times, she suffers from the same thing. The quest for chocolate perfection.

I agree with Moskin on many points. I think it’s true that we have become too chocolate obsessed. No dessert menu is complete without death-by-chocolate this or that, or at least one of those omnipresent melt-in-the-middle warm cakes. I like them, don’t get me wrong, but enough is enough. And I am not the first person to feel this way – one-time chocoholic friends have said to me they are now happy to turn away an oozing cake for a fruit tart or crème caramel.

But some occasions still call for cocoa and brownies, as Julia points out, are the ideal fix for the home baker. They are reliable, as long as you get the cooking time right, and they almost always satisfy the desire for a rich, dense, dark chocolate treat. How could you go wrong? Julia takes offense to any additions other than walnuts and pecans. Though I agree that peanut butter, marshmallows and other flavourings are generally over the top, I must say that I often like nuts in my brownies. The bakery at St. John, in London, does a very fudgy version packed with brazils, almonds and hazelnuts (or at least from what I can identify) and it never fails to amaze me how well the flavours and textures meld together. At once dense, smooth, crunchy and soft, the nuts retain some of their natural character since they aren’t crisp and toasted.

My absolute favourite brownie, the one that I recommend to people the most, in fact the one that I make people try when walking past the store no matter what protests they throw at me, is the Boston brownie at London’s Konditor and Cook. This bakery has never failed me – everything I have ever bought there has been scrumptious - but their brownies are more than delicious; they are original and superlative at the same time. They are the best brownies I have ever had and at the same time different to any others I have tried. The key is the Bostonian element: the cranberries. Their occasional tanginess cuts through the richness of the chocolate and brings out the dark flavour at the same time. The cranberries are not overdone, in fact there are only a few in each brownie, but they make all the difference. Unfortunately I have not been able to get my hands on the Konditor and Cook recipe, but I will try. And if I don’t succeed, I will try my hand at recreating them next time the chocolate anxiety comes around. They could be just the thing for it.

"The Sturgeon King"

The torrential rain that hit the Northeast yesterday did not keep me from enjoying an otherwise perfectly good Sunday. We met friends for brunch at Barney Greengrass on the Upper West Side and then headed to MoMA for some cultural stimulation.

Barney Greengrass was a NYC favourite of mine before I even moved here. I liken this institution and another old-school Jewish stalwart, Schwartz’s in Montreal. In my four years of studying in Montreal I tried a lot of smoked meat, but nowhere drew a comparison with Schwartz’s quality or atmosphere, and I feel the same way about BG. It’s simply a really enjoyable place to eat fantastic smoked fish. The staff are understatedly hilarious, friendly and efficient. The restaurant and store don’t seem to have changed for years, and they don’t need to - the art deco cabinetry and kitsch wallpaper are part of the attraction. Most of all I love the sturgeon and Nova Scotia salmon platter (Barney himself was, after all, "The Sturgeon King"). For about $30, it comes with a couple of bagels or bialys and enough fish for two to share. It's just what you need to set yourself up for a long Sunday in the city.

My brother says he would fly to New York every weekend just to have some sturgeon (he's also fond of Schwartz's). Now that I’m living here, it’s going to be hard to convince myself to go anywhere else. Luckily both Barney Greengrass and Schwartz's have been around for some time (99 and 79 years respectively), so I doubt they'll be going anywhere soon.

The highlights at MoMA were classics of a different sort - a display of design classics and how they have influenced other products. My favourite were the Wilhelm Wagenfeld's Kubus Stacking Storage Containers (1938) (right), clever and practical square glass containers that are a perfect marriage of form and function. They were paired with Constantin Boym and Laurene Leon Boym's Use It Containers (1995) (left), a modern system with clear similarities to Wagenfeld's Bauhaus product. With both systems the variety of sizes ensures that you always have the right size for the job, and you can pile them high on the counter or in the cupboard to save storage space.

Lunch with love

I used to bring a packed lunch to school, and the best days were always when my mum put something extra special in it - a joke or a note, some chocolate or some unusual fruit. I was reminded of this when my mom sent me an article from the Guardian about Mimi Ito's bentoblog, an online photojournal of her children's lunchboxes.

These aren't just any lunch boxes. They are impeccably organized bentos along the lines of the traditional Japanese boxes, but filled with a mixture of Japanese and American foods and with an emphasis on fruit and vegetables. As they say in the article, it's hard to believe that her children eat so many vegetables, but I can see the appeal of the presentation to children. Lots of little compartments, each with a different treasure. I just wish someone would make me a bento box every day, but I will have to live with my bento envy for now.

Dear Santa...

When I went to Pinkberry last night I felt like a child who didn't quite get what they wished for for Christmas. It's as if I asked for an all-singing, all-dancing battery operated doll and received a "true to life" plastic doll instead. Still a nice present, but not quite the indulgence I was looking for.

Pinkberry has nice wrapping, as I suspected. The store is lit with what look to me like Le Klint pendant lamps, and, as I mentioned before, there are Philip Starck ghost chairs which lend an air of regality. Slightly incongruous were the Alessi kitchen gadgets lined on shelves, although they may have been for sale. I didn't inquire.

The interior design and the quality of the ingredients (fresh, not frozen, fruit and a good choice of other sugary toppings) were betrayed by the presentation of the toppings and the finished product. The fruit is kept in small sunken storage bins just as it might be at a sub sandwich chain. My cup definitely did not look like the perfectly coiffed swirl on the website. As you can see, the fresh, firm berries were jammed on top of the yogurt and had none of the artful placement that was advertised.

But more importantly, how does it taste? Well, it tastes healthy. It has the sourness of a more acidic yogurt and is lacking the creaminess of unctuous Greek yogurt because, well, it's non-fat. The cookies-and-cream and raspberry toppings I had were a perfect crunchy and fresh antidote to the sweet-tart frozen yogurt. Although there seemed to be an equal distribution of consumers of the plain and green tea flavours, we tried the green tea and weren't terribly impressed; it had a loud green tea after taste but was very watery at first.

As my companion said, "it's not as good as ice cream," but the comparison is probably unfair. I wasn't expecting ice cream, but I was expecting something better than other frozen yogurts I've tried in the past, and this just wasn't it. Yogen Fruz is still top of the list. Now they just need to open one in NYC.

Designer "Fro-Yo"

I can’t wait to try pinkberry. A friend told me that it has taken SoCal by storm – to the extent that it is bothering him that people won’t stop talking about it. Apparently everyone says their frozen yogurt 'really tastes like yogurt'. I’ve got to try some. I didn’t even know that it existed, let alone that there are three branches in New York. I already have a soft spot (excuse the pun) for Yogen Fruz, so let’s see how pinkberry measures up. From what I can see on the website the décor is definitely a step up from the Fruz's, including Philip Starck ghost chairs. Not too shabby.

What came first, the cockatoo or the egg?

I'm wondering what to do with my leftover Easter eggs. I dyed them naturally with turmeric, beetroot and red cabbage so they are more than edible. I was thinking retro-chic deviled eggs, but I don’t think the two of us can eat ten boiled eggs in any form, so they will have to be eaten in installments. For now I am still happy just looking at them when I open the fridge…

Although I love my eggs, the most heart-warming egg-related squib of this Easter comes from the BBC. Check out their story about Pippa, the cockatoo, who mistook some Cadbury's eggs for her own and has been guarding them for the past two weeks. Gorgeous.

Tool of the trade

Moving to New York was a shock to my system in more ways than one. I left a great job, fantastic friends and family and the familiarity of my beloved London. It takes a lot of time and commitment to get to know a city like London or New York, and I feel like I was nearly there. I’ve exchanged easy weekends of wandering around old haunts for the buzzing opportunity of this manic city. New York affords some wonderful conveniences: shops open 24 hours a day; the subway running through the night and every service you could possible ask for. Gastronomically it is rich, diverse and eager to please. My biggest difficulty is narrowing down the choices.

One of the best tools I’ve found to acquaint myself with the food scene here is the Manhattan board at Chowhound. Members post and answer any kind of question relating to groceries, gourmet shopping and restaurants in Manhattan. Non-members can search previous questions and answers to find out what people have to say about a particular restaurant, area or cuisine. It’s the ultimate online support group for those wondering about trying something new in the city. The outer boroughs have their own board too - in fact almost everywhere on earth is represented by one board or another. Most of the advice I have read has been spot on, and if in doubt, you can cross reference a variety of posts. Just keep an eye out for the most recent information.