Cooking With Ideas

Pigs Are Us? Pork Is Us? Or Is That Me?

I admit it. I like pork in every conceivable version. One of my favorite dishes is the pork jowl sandwich at the Purple Pig (and much else), and I am also a fan of the good old fashioned BLT at Whole Foods in Lincoln Park (though I have not had one since my partner returned to upstate NY). I know, that like chicken, the pig is subject to factory farming and that both the pig, a creature that is quite intelligent actually, and the laborers are treated in horrifying ways. I know that factory farming of pigs, crating them in tiny little pens or crates, with their urine and feces running down slats into lagoons, creating horrifying gases and chemicals that are then spread on farmland in ways that harm not only the land but the waterways, and through both odor and airborne yuck harm hurt local people. I know that. 

So, why did I purchase and buy a book that reiterates that -- and then go right ahead and keep on eating pork. No, it is not because bacon is as addictive as heroin. It is not. No, it is not because I do not believe what I have read. It is, likely, because I am ethically lazy. I admit it. I do try for pork that is raised in more reasonable ways, some of which the author of the book I am eventually getting to identifies. But, I am not always that diligent. I should be -- for the sake of the pigs, the farmers themselves, the workers, the earth, myself. 

The book I am getting to is this: Pig Tales: An Omnivore's Quest for Sustainable Meat by Barry Estabrook. Estabrook wrote the well-received Tomatoland  and is a former contributing editor to Gourmet.  He also has a terrific website, Politics of the Plate, which you can peruse by clicking here. 

So: what about the book? It is readable, informative, and chatty in a sense, with you identifying with Estabrook as he wends his way through various encountered -- with factory farming, wild boars and the ecology of wild or feral pigs, more sustainable raising of pigs, and more. Perhaps the part that was most interesting to me (no, it did not challenge my ethics in the ways some of the chapters did) had to do with the wild or feral pigs; they are, it turns out, in the vast majority of US states (48 at the time of publication of Estabrook's book), a problem for many (including agribusiness, interestingly and perhaps ironically) because they can do loads of damage to fields and crops (not to mention people), and they turn out to be the source of much of what you encounter in restaurants as "wild" pork. Some of them are escapees and others were let loose by those who wanted to (eventually) hunt wild boar, a practice that started almost the moment of colonization/discovery by Europeans. Who knew? I certainly did not know that they were capable of demolishing acres of fields. Nor that their culling was a part of the source of what I eat. 

Elsewhere in the book, I also learned -- particularly from the portions from animal welfare scientists who work with pigs, including about pressures brought to bear against some of them from the powerful pork lobby. Estabrook was savvy in reminding us not only that pigs are smart, but that both pigs and people suffer from maltreatment at the hands of agribusiness. And, I read of activists and lawyers who spend their time trying to get legislation and enforcement with regard to gross abuses from agribusiness that go unpunished and often unnoticed by those in power. Whistleblowers do not do so well in such a powerful industry. 

To conclude: I really enjoyed the book, disgusting as parts of it were -- and I recommend it. I will continue to eat bacon and other pork products, but I will, I hope, be a better consumer. Like other books that focus on a single topic, this one reaches beyond the obvious -- and every chapter left me wanting more on that particular topic. The people I "met" and the pigs I "encountered" were memorable and worth the effort. And, for those of you with a passion for upstate NY, yes, there is a chapter devoted to a sustainable pig farm in upstate. 

By the way, Estabrook does not end up a vegetarian or even giving up bacon (as his partner feared when he began the project). He ends by noting that he will always want to know where his pork comes from. I agree, though I am, as I said, not that focused some times. 

For an interview with Estabrook, click here. 

Diane Mott Davidson -- A Cookbook!

Once in a while, I get mail -- real mail, not bills and not junk mail, but mail. And, on occasion, that mail is a book. So, a few weeks ago, I arrived to the mailbox to find a package slip, and the package contained Goldy's Kitchen Cookbook, subtitled Cooking, Writing, Family, Life. There it was, free, and there it was, beckoning me to read it (or at least peruse it) immediately. 

I held out for 15 minutes. And then I opened this: 

(Image source: chacabooks.over-blog.com) 

I read all of the bits that precede sections of the cookbook. Each one is a brief (all too brief) bit on writing, on cooking, on family, and on life. Surprising, given the subtitle, right? The tone was chatty, and I did get some insight into a few things, most crucially why the author chose to have Goldy, the main character of her murder mysteries, be a survivor (most definitely not a victim) of spousal abuse. 

So, you have never heard of Goldy? She is the main character -- and amateur sleuth -- in around 20 mysteries written by Diane Mott Davidson, set in Aspen Meadows Colorado. Goldy runs a catering company, and encounters all sorts of dandy murders and mayhem in the course of her work, sometimes but not always being a suspect in said mayhem, and always getting in a tad over her head in trying to sort the mysteries through. The mysteries include recipes and, as has apparently become definitive of the genre, titles that are a tad punny. Her first novel in the series was published in 1990 and the final one (we think) entitled The Whole Enchilada in 2013. I have reviewed one or two of her cozy/foodie mysteries here on Cooking with Ideas, as regular readers will know. (See here or here.) 

So: Goldy's Kitchen is a surprisingly thorough and useful cookbook. I admit I expected it to be only fluff, reproducing the recipes from the mysteries and cashing in on their popularity. Obviously true. But, the bits of memoir actually call out for more from Davidson; what she says is interesting. I just wanted more, and more depth. Perhaps that is a consequence of the foodie genre -- or the series genre -- where leaving someone wanting more is a good thing. I was also somewhat surprised (in a positive way) by the range of recipes -- including low carb and gluten free options. I knew that there would be vegetarian options, given that a main character in the novels is her assistant, Julian, who is a vegetarian! But I was pleased by the additional dietary options. I admit that I have read fewer of the recipes than the memoir bits (I have read all the memoir bits. Did I say that already?) -- but I look forward to continuing to peruse them at my leisure. 

Want more? 

Here is a piece from the Denver Post when Mott Davidson published The Whole Enchilada which includes a tale also told in the memoir section of the cookbook -- about calling her wedding off. (SPOILER ALERT: She did not.)  And here is a bit of a bio of Mott Davidson, including her experience at Wellesley which she attended with a current Democrat -- who tried to recruit her into the Young Republicans. Hmmm. 

Crete -- Foodie Paradise

This past summer, my partner and I did something that is very unusual for us. We took a vacation. It involved no family or family-like obligations, no work or work-related obligations, no nothing except vacation. Yes, one of us did yoga. And yes, the other one checked her email a few times. But really, it was a vacation. It was wonderful on many fronts, including beaches and sunshine, archaeology and cultural exploration. And, it was wonderful on various food and food-related fronts. So: here are a few miscellaneous comments on the wonders of Crete and its calories. (We did go elsewhere, but I will stick with Crete for these purposes, for the most part.) 

First: A view. 

Now the food:

1. Dakos: I first ate this on a buffet offered at Pavlos Pension in Triopetra. This is the place that the yoga folks stayed, and where I visited daily for one or more meals. Every day, there was a vegetarian buffet of Cretan foods. Early on, there was the most delightful thing called davos. This involves, first, a kind of barley rusk that is traditional in Crete, a twice baked bread that is quite hard unless it has the opportunity to soak up olive oil or something else wonderful. That something else, when it is dakos, involves tomatoes and cheese and olive oil, and oregano. At Pavlos Pension, the dish came as a large bowl of the topping and a bowl from which one chose rusks. Then, one piled the topping onto the rusks, waited and. . . was delighted. I had dakos (spelled various ways) a variety of other places, and in more formal settings, but this was the start of a dangerous and wonderful obsession. 

2. Espresso Fredo: I encountered this the very first day I was in Greece, in Athens, introduced by our delightful airbnb host. It is just what it sounds like: a cold espresso complete with ice cubes. But, that does not quite describe what it is, if you are imagining anything might get at starbucks or some such place. They come without sugar, medium and sweet, and I always went with metrio (medium). The first one was the best -- and the first place the best -- but I also had these other places, including a delightful espresso redo served at the airport in Mykonos. As a side note, almost every place we went (except one high end place we were in on an island) also had fresh squeezed orange juice, including the tiny places at the airport. And, the oranges were amazing. 

3. Sun Dried Octopus: I was in a tiny village in Crete watching my partner buy blankets in a little place in Spili and saw an amazing post card, which we ended up receiving as a gift. On the card? What looks like a clothes line, on which are hanging multiple large reddish colored octopuses (or is that octopi?). I wanted the card just for the oddity and the smile, though I had seen nothing like that in Crete. Then, while on Mykonos, sitting in a taverna by a port, there they were -- a row of octopus hanging in the air, in the sun -- and there it was, on the menu. An adventure. We tried it. I liked it more than I had anticipated. Slices of cooked sun dried octopus in olive oil, vinegar and herbs. I am not running out to buy it and (my neighbors might applaud here) I am definitely not hanging octopus out my window to dry, but it was one of the most foodie things I have ever done. 

4. Rabbit: I love rabbit. I looked for it various places after seeing it on a menu in Spili and not having it.  But: I did have it elsewhere after one of those nights trying very hard to find a restaurant and making every mistake possible with a map and with local instructions and getting frustrated and then having a delightful meal. The rabbit was amazing. My personality not so much. It was served somewhat like the octopus in that it was in a light sauce with olive oil, vinegar and herbs. And it was roasted perfectly. I am 99% sure it was wild, but almost as sure I am wrong. Where did we have it? Chrisostomos Taverna in Chania, a largish place on the north west side of Crete. 

5. Raki: Yes, I bought some. It was amazing, and flavored with honey. No I did not bring any home. Yes I should have. 

6. Cheese pies: I started the trip with a cheese pie in Athens and then got them several other times, including one at the restaurant where we had rabbit. (Sfakia cheese pies are a particular version which I also had at Pavlos Pension). Each is filled with a traditional Crete cheese, which can vary from quite tart and savory to somewhat sweet. And each one I had was a delight. On occasion this is accompanied by honey, which, well, is delicious. 

7. Baklava: While I used to think of this as really really Greek, I only had it once in Crete (which only became a part of the Greek national state relatively recently and is really not the same thing). I did, though, indulge once, at a small bakery in Agia Galania -- and it was delightful. That one piece of baklava, which was not unduly sweet and chock full of nuts, lasted several days. 

8. Olive Oil: On a Chania food tour we took with a new friend, we went to a place called the Olive Shop. We had a olive oil tasting, at which we not only tasted very different oils, but learned how to do so in Crete. This involves holding a delightful bit of bread, pouring olive oil on to it, adding sea salt (preferably wild) and a sprinkle of oregano and . . . smiling. Oddly enough the walking tour place is called something like Athens Walking Tours, but it does the Chania food tour. I recommend it. I also recommend Cretan olive oil, some of which comes from a region to the east of Chania. 

9. Fava: When I first saw this on the menu at a place in Athens, I thought it was fava beans. I was totally right but utterly wrong. Fava beans in Crete are kind of like yellow lentils or yellow split peas; they are indigenous to Crete and as far as I know nowhere else. We had a dish prepared from fava a number of times, including our first night at a place called Byzantium, later at another place called Mani Mani in Athens, and much later at a very nice place called 1800 on Santorini where we had it in a kind of three takes on fava appetizer.

Fava kind of looks like dal when served, and is usually warm. Every version we had tasted differently and had a different texture. Simple, but not so simple. IN places that grow olives, it comes with those -- while here and there on the islands which do NOT have olives (yes, these exist) the topping is capers. I admit, I preferred the capers. We did buy some fava to try to make -- which makes me a tad nervous, but I will try. It is not in the Crete cookbook I purchased. But it is findable here, for example. 

Giant Beans are unrelated but worth a mention as they became a fan favorite too. They are (surprise) large, white, and usually come in a tomato-y sauce. (Crete's cuisine was definitely changed when tomatoes arrived from the "new world.") Giant beans, like much of the food in Crete, is a seasonal product. 

10. Pork: I love pork in almost every version imaginable. And, we had it -- as sausage and as a kind of smoked item I cannot even describe in a place somewhat outside of Chania. I cannot remember the name and may never have something quite so lovely again. 

There is more. Think freshly caught (very freshly caught) fish, simply grilled. Think eggplant and green beans and . . . .But I must stop. Can you tell, I loved Crete?