Who Is My Server?

28. Eat your colors.
34. Eat wild foods when you can.
66. Don't be a short-order cook.

Right, so, you know, I think I've done more than give Pollan's Food Rules the ol' college try; I've done everything in my power to follow each and every one in the full spirit in which they were intended. But there are a few rules where I am forced to draw the line. I don't want to - I just can't help it. It isn't going to happen.

Take Rule 34: eat wild foods when you can. Yeah. I live in New Mexico, arid land rich in squat cacti and dust. What am I gonna do? Hunt for jackrabbits and forage for tumbleweeds? We have an abundance of local food, if you take the time to find it, but all of it comes from a long and practiced agricultural tradition. To say, eat wild foods "when you can" is essentially to say eat wild foods never.

I can't really imagine foraging for truffles here.

The same goes for eating a variety of colors (Rule 28). Sure, that's doable - as long as those colors come in my weekly box from the local CSA. I know that my harvest box is the closest I'm going to get to all local, seasonal produce, and I know it's more than enough to last me the week. So I make a point not to shop elsewhere unless I run out. Which means that if I get a colorful box, hurrah! And if not? Well, too bad. I just can't have it all.

Which is where Rule 66 comes in because that's what that rule - don't be a short-order cook - is really all about: not having it all. When Pollan talks about not being a short-order cook, I assumed that this rule was geared toward parents. "When kids learn to think of the dinner table as a restaurant," Pollan says, "they’ll eat the way most people do in restaurants: too much." Not having kids, I thought this rule didn't really apply to me; I thought I would pretty much end up ignoring this one.

But what I didn't realize is how much I act like Pollan's "short order cook" for myself. I'm so used to the idea that I can make myself whatever I want, whenever I want - and why not? (I used to think.) I buy the groceries, I'm the only one I'm cooking for... why wouldn't I fix exactly what I want.

But take my limitations when it comes from eating from the wild and eating a variety of colors. Those are specific limitations bound to time and place. And when you take the time and effort to really consume what the ground under your own feet is yielding at that place and time, you find that those kinds limitations proliferate your plate. You realize how strange and wonderous it is that we can step into a magic, flourescently-lit room and purchase any food we wish and buy anything we can imagine at any time, when that structure is so contrary to the way Mother Nature originally laid it out.

And I'll be the first to admit, I'm far from enlightened here. It's hard. It's really hard to tell yourself, "No, you can't have a mango on your cereal. Mangoes grow in a tropical climate, and you're in the middle of the desert in the middle of winter," when all your life you've been told that if you want a mango on your cereal, just go get one. But I'm starting to see that I can want strawberries for breakfast and have to have grapefruit because that's all that came in my harvest box was grapefruit and I don't even really like grapefruit... and it's not the end of the world. I'm beginning to accept that if it's Thursday, and I don't want lentils and chard for lunch, but that's all I had time to cook this weekend so I HAVE to have lentils and chard... I won't die.

Grapefruit with honey... mmmm, not so bad...

Pollan encourages eating "what we're served, rather than what we might order or crave," When you're the one who serves yourself, recongizing that difference is tricky - but it's there. The more we understand that the abundance of choice the supermarket offers is hardly the only way to eat and certainly not our God-given right, the more spiritual, healthy, and mindful eaters we become. And, in turn, the more spiritual, healthy mindful consumers we become - better stewards of the world and ourselves. And that, to me, is what it's all about.

Magic Spinach Water

29. Drink the spinach water.

This was a new and illuminating rule for me. Apparently, the water in which you cook your vegetables retains much of the nutrients of the vegetables themselves. I had no idea. So Pollan suggests saving it and adding it to future dishes - boom, instant nutrient boost.

To be perfectly honest, I haven't been great at following this rule. I once saved the water in which I had steamed some broccoli... and then promptly let it sit in the refrigerator for several weeks. And that's about as proactive as I've gotten on this rule.

In my defense, I very rarely steam vegetables. I'm really much more of a grill/sautee kind of a gal. But that's no excuse; I can and should do better. A part of it is I wouldn't know what to do with my "spinach water" even if I had some. Pollan says it can be added to "sauces and soups," but as far as I'm concerned, that's way too vague to be helpful. So I'm giving a little love to this rule and trying to pay attention to ways I can "save the spinach water."

For starters, it occured to me that I could have thrown a little veggie water into the dish I made for lunches this week. Too late, of course - maybe next time. And in the meantime, I'm going to share the recipe anyway, because it was a)delicious, b) easy and c) healthy.

I took a picture of my own lentils, but it didn't turn out great. Green collard greens + green lentils + grey smoked turkey = not super photogenic (but still delicious). But it looks and tastes kind of like this. Mmmmm. Image courtesy of The Wednesday Chef, who, by the way, recommends using bacon rather than turkey and adding onions and balsamic vinegar. Which would probably also be good.

COLLARD GREENS WITH SMOKED TURKEY AND LENTILS
Ingredients
•3-5 cups of collard greens, stemmed and cut into strips

**note: I ran out of collard greens halfway through and switched to chard, which tasted just as good.**

•1 cup green lentils
•1 cup chicken or vegetable broth
•1 cup water
1/2 tsp salt
pepper to taste (read: a crapload)

Instructions
•Combine ingredients in a saucepan and bring to a boil.
•Reduce to a simmer, cover, and cook for 30 minutes.

And that's it! So easy. So good. And it would be equally easy to replace a little of that water with leftover vegetable water instead.

And while I'm thinking about it, here's a few other ways I can think of to add veggie-water to my cooking:

• Homemade dips, like ranch, or spinach and artichoke - then when you dip carrots or celery in it, you get DOUBLE the veggie magic.


• Salad dressings. What if you threw a little bit of veggie-water into a homemade vinaigrette?


• Rice, quinoa and other grains - just throw it back in the water. That would work, wouldn't it? It would get absorbed back into the grain. And, I'll bet, would kick the flavor way up too.

So that's a start. And if anyone can think of other ways to get creative with the spinach water, I'm all ears.

Cheats

45. Eat all the junk food you want as long as you cook it yourself.
72. Limit your snacks to unprocessed plant foods.
79. Treat treats as treats.

So... I've been cheating a lot.

Accidentally! Accidentally! But still cheating.

See, I LOVE Rule 45. Pollan says we should feel free to indulge in anything we make with our own two hands, because most junk food, like fried chicken or chocolate cake, is time and labor-intensive and will, therefore, be a self-regulating system. But when Pollan gave the all-clear, I he seriously underestimated my dedication to junk food.

I two jobs and over 50 hours a week right now, but still I've managed to come home, think, "God, all really want is a cake," and somehow find the time to actually bake a cake.

Most recently I made Miraculous Matzo, which you could also probably call matzo crunch or matzo brickle if you wanted to sound less silly. It's a ridiculously easy and disgustingly delicious recipe: basically melted brown sugar and butter poured over matzo. Topped with chocolate of course. If you're like me and you have a lot of matzo leftover from Passover that you don't know what to do with, trust me, this is it.

Image from www.davidlebovitz.com

So I made probably a metric ton of these sinful cookies in about 20 minutes flat, and now everytime I walk by the fridge, I reach for a cookie: Michael Pollan said I could! I made it, so he said I could eat as much as I wanted!

But a little part of me knows I'm cheating.

There are still Rules 72 and 79. Treats are still treats and snacks are fruits, vegetables, and nuts. NOT a piece of toffee every time I walk by the fridge.

But it's not any rule or intepretation of that rule that makes me think this is a cheat. Because if you play the semantics and spin it just right, you can still make a case for my more lax, cookie-friendly interpretation of Rule 45. What makes me sure I'm cheating is the what I feel after the cookie-gluttony has subsided. It's not guilt, exactly, but it's still a kind of disappointment. I didn't eat that cookie because I chose to eat it, I ate it because it was there, and I really, really wanted to. There was no consideration there, no awareness.

What's the lesson here? I think it's that the rules are only so worth so much. Even with so many of them so carefully drawn-out, each and every one is still subject to innumerable interpretations. And if you want to know if your interpretation is a good one, you're not going to find that in a book. Because a big part of eating well - of what Pollan is on about - is being mindful and aware of how we consume. Have I really thought about what I'm eating today? Am I being honest and careful and kind to myself with this choice?

I know, I know, easier said than done. But in the toxic culinary environment we've created for ourselves, we can't afford to eat mindlessly. So we've got to try. And sometimes, when you look at a cookie, the answer to those questions is no. But sometimes, I think it's important to keep in mind, the answer is yes.

And in that spirit, if you want to make Miraculous Matzo for yourself (and you should), here's how. The variation I used is from David Lebovitz's blog, and is just perfect:

MIRACULOUS MATZO
Combine equal parts brown sugar and butter and heat until they start to bubble. The recipe I used called for one cup of brown sugar and one cup of butter, though I felt it worked better when I used 1 1/2 cups of each. (And yes, that means I made this TWICE.) After the mixture starts to bubble, pour it onto a cookie tray lined with parchment paper and matzo and then bake at 350 about 10 minutes, until the mixture starts to darken. Take it out, pour a cup of chocolate chips on top IMMEDIATELY, let it stand for about 5 minutes to let the chocolate chips melt and then spread them across the top. Set it the fridge to harden and, hooray! Miraculous matzo.

**Note. If you don't have matzo, but still want to make these cookies, you can substitute Saltines. I can tell you from experience that this works great, and the cookies are Amazing.**

Break Time

After a long and grueling 46-day period, I'm taking a short break from blogging to catch up on the rest of my life. I haven't abandoned the rules, not for a moment. I'm just taking a short breather from writing about it, to do things like, you know, taxes.

Following a brief spring cleaning of my life, I'll be back next week with your regularly scheduled programming.

See you next Monday!

Day 43

More on meat, and then I'll shut up about it. (Probably.)

Maybe I'm hyper-aware because of this project, but I keep seeing articles about the relative benefits and health risks of eating meat. Mostly the latter; it eating meat might still be the order of the day in contemporary American society, but if my Facebook page is any kind of social barometer, thinking it's cool is hopelessly passe.

To begin with, I'm very intrigued by this article that drifted my way, because it's a very intelligent argument in favor of synthetic meat products, which Pollan specifically condemns. Mark Bittman, by the way, is the same author who wrote the previous amazing NYT article about meat to which I linked last week.

The article argues that eating meat (again:) is not a healthy choice for our bodies or the environment. The author is optimistic and excited about new, more realistic fake-meat products. With fake meat this good, he posits, even died-in-the-wool meat-eaters will be eating less of it. Which is good news for us and the planet.

Pollan, on the other hand, argues that anything that's one thing masquerading as another thing (that is, vegetables masquerading as meat) is bad news from the start. Why? Because anything that is made to feel, look, and taste like something it's not has, by very definition, been highly, highly processed. And we all know how Pollan feels about processed food.

So the question is, what, exactly, is so bad about a little processed soybeans anyway? If you ask Bittman, food made out of nothing but soybeans and other veggies is practically a God-send.

And if you ask Michael Pollan, the answer is, we don't know, and that should be enough. "Nutrition science is, to put it charitably, a very young science," says Pollan in his introduction, "[It's] approximately where surgery was in the year 1650 - very promising, and very interesting to watch, but are you ready to let them operate you?"

A fair point, MP, but by those same standards, an innumerable amount of things in our everyday lives are a "very young science": cell phones, X-rays, microwaves. We trust doctors and scientists everyday to tell us, "This is perfectly safe," without even seeing a full generation that has lived and died not knowing a world without that science. If we trust some guy to say, "Look this big plastic box is pumping radiation into your food in order to heat it, but don't worry, it's totally not going to give you cancer; we did a study," trusting that same guy to say, "This food may look different, but it's really just the same soybeans people have been eating for hundreds of years, so it's completely fine," is no big thing.

And then there's also this little Huff-Po Op-Ed gem that essentially likens eating meat to smoking cigarettes. Which I think is a bit extreme, but in its defense, it has some fair points. There was a study conducted at Harvard a few years ago that everyone - my buddy MP included - loves to cite, clearly linking the consumption of red meat to mortality rates. It's hard to refute that evidence - although some have tried, citing unreliable information-gathering, and a failure to distinguish between cattle that were grass-fed and those that were corn-fed and factory-"grown."


Personally, I think that if you look at the nutritive difference between corn-fed and grass-fed beef, as well as the high rates of antibiotics and hormones found in factory-raised livestock, it's clear that this is an important distinction. Still, it's necessary to recognize that these are important points.

But I have a hard time getting behind it. And it's not because of the grass-fed argument, and it's not because of the data collection methods. It's basic, gut instinct when I think about how I feel when I include meat in my diet vs. when I don't.

And it's the fact that people have been eating meat for thousands of years and seemed to do just fine. You know when don't seem to be doing just fine? Right now. Heart disease and cancer are the leading causes of death in America, with diabetes not far behind, making this century the first time in human history that the top two causes of death are largely influenced by lifestyle choices, as opposed to accidents or communicable diseases.

It seems profoundly counterintuitive to blame meat for this.

To eat meat or not to eat meat? To embrace imitation meat products as a health- and eco-savior or to denounce it as part of the problem? In situations like this, I think the best we can do is make the choice that feels right and pray that in the end good intentions count for something.

I know what I choose. What do you think?

Day 40 (So I've Been Thinking)

I'm at Day 40 here, which is kind of a milestone, so I've been thinking.

With six days left to go until Easter, I thought I'd be pretty much through all the food rules on the blog at this point. Turns out, I'm not even halfway through.

These 40 days have also been an exercise in back-tracking, amending, and re-evaluating; it's been a constant stream inside my head of After thinking about it, I really shouldn't be doing this and, you know, maybe I should start doing that. In hindsight it's unsurprising, but it has nonetheless changed the rhythm and intention. Instead of being six intense weeks of full-stop dietary changes, it's gathered steam slowly. So many things - like joining a CSA and trying my hand at homemade condiments - I feel like I just began. It certainly doesn't feel like I've been doing this for a month and a half - not for real anyway.

So I've got to keep going. I think I'll keep plugging away until I get a chance to write about all 83 Food Rules - or until it really, really feels like I'm doing this for real, no cheating or forgetting or taking shortcuts. Whichever comes last.

...

Now that I've said it, I'm a little overwhelmed. If I'm going to be honest with myself, I'm a little terrified of this project stretching out in front of me with no forseeable end to it. But I've started it, and ending it next week would feel to much like giving up now. I've got to see it through.

(Oh Lord, what have I done?)

Day 36

26. Treat meat as a flavoring or special occasion food
27. "Eating what stands on one leg [mushrooms and plant foods] is better than eating what stands on two legs [fowl], which is better than eating what stands on four legs [cows, pigs and other mammals]."

These two rules essentially address the same concept: the less meat in one's diet the better.

I'm conflicted on this concept. On one hand, I get the idea that, as Americans, we tend to believe that a meal = one big honking piece of meat and some other stuff, which is not only misguided, but actually completely backwards. Human beings aren't meant to eat so much meat, and until the combination of rising affluence of the United States and completely whacked-out federal subsidization of the meat industry, we didn't. It was too cost-prohibitive.

(Side note regarding that chart: Michelle Obama's crusade for healthier childrens' diets completely baffles me. What is the point of her campaign when at the very same time US government tacitly supports this massively unhealthy way of thinking and eating through its subsidies?)

And according to this totally bad-ass article from the New York Times that EVERYBODY should go read RIGHT NOW because it explains exactly what is so toxic about the overly meat-dependent diet, Americans eat twice the daily recommended intake of protein, and almost all of it from animal protein. World meat consumption has also doubled since 1961.

So I'm also all for reversing that way of thinking. I mentioned earlier that I try to make a habit of asking myself if there is just one vegetable I can add to every meal. By the same token, before preparing each meal, I ask myself if there is any way I can make it without meat. I also strive for and tally my "vegetarian days," days where (duh) I eat no meat whatsoever. Actually, today looks like it's shaping up to be a vegetarian day. An apple, homemade granola and yogurt for breakfast, salad and homemade pasta for lunch, and leftover huevos rancheros for dinner. Go me!

So, I totally, totally get that that's important. But, on the other hand, there comes a point in observing this rule that I can no longer see eye to eye with Pollan.

Pollan claims that vegetarians, as a rule, are "generally healthier," than meat-eaters, and I'm sure this is true. I'm sure there's a study out there somewhere, that proves it. Here's what I know: I was a rubbish vegetarian. I ate too much bread and cheese, too little protein. I also was (and am, if I'm going to be completely honest) not nearly creative enough or generous enough with my use of fruits and vegetables. In the words of my co-worker, who could not have said it better than me: "I was a vegetarian for a while - I got so fat and so tired."

So Pollan specifically advocates only eating meat in about two meals per week, leaving a whopping 19 vegetarian meals to figure out every week.

Now, for me, reduction in my consumption of meat came naturally for me, especially in the beginning, before I had had a chance to stock up on meat from local, non-industrial sources, because of the observation of Rule 30 (Eat animals who have themselves eaten well.) I thought maybe, as a more mature and thoughtful eater, that I would be better at being a vegetarian than I was as a teenager. That might be true up to a point, but I could also see a dozen bad vegetarian habits that I was falling right back into.

So, now that I've been to the co-op and the fancy local deli and I have an ample source of acceptable meat, I've slackened the reigns considerably. My personal goal is to have at least two vegetarian days per week, and eat meat with only one meal the rest of the time. I don't always succeed, and when I don't I'm not too hard on myself, but I think it's safe to say that this is the goal; this is what I find reasonable.

I had to be so lax about The Rules, especially in the middle of a project dedictated to observing them as strictly as possible, but I really think I'm in the right here. When I began eating meat again at age 20, I felt the effects immediately. I was less tired, more focused, had more energy. I didn't feel weighed down all the time.

I'm not one of those people who are all, "your body will always tell you what to do." In fact, I have not observed that to be the case at all. My body doesn't speak very clearly most of the time. So when it DOES, I feel obligated to listen.

After all, Pollan himself says in his introduction that food science is still relatively new. "Nobody knows what's going on deep in the soul of a carrot to make it so good for you," and, by that same token, nobody must know exactly what is going on deep within my body that makes meat so important to my health. But I know it's true. So on this rule, MP, you and I are just going to have to part ways.