Large food corporations are responsible for a lot of our eating. As much as I like to rhapsodize about "fresh" eggs, and lashings of cream, this isn't what's happening across the country. Therefore, I like trying out the new products these companies put out occasionally. Even among processed foods, people deserve a decent product.
With that in mind, I picked up Nestle's new "Sugar Free" Baby Ruth candy bar over the weekend. Obviously, the bar is a creature of the Atkins craze - a serious point against it. But how does it taste, and does it make sense to buy?
Well, first, even though FDA has required the label to say so, I just want to reiterate that there's nothing low calorie or low fat about the bar. A normal Baby Ruth, weighing in at roughly 60 grams, provides 280 calories and 12 grams of fat. The sheer numbers on the sugar free bar are indeed smaller (140 calories, 8 grams of fat), but that's because the bar itself is smaller - a mere 36.8 grams. One wonders if Nestle (and its consumers) wouldn't be better off just making their normal bar a little smaller, and leaving it at that. I should also note that you pay a lot more for the privilege of eating Nestle's sugar free offering - I noticed a premium of about 40 cents over the larger sugar-filled Baby Ruth, but it might differ elsewhere. I suspect the price difference isn't purely marketing - the artificial sweetener Nestle uses, sucralose (brand name Splenda) is much more expensive than even good sugar.
As for taste, it tastes exactly how you would imagine sugar free chocolate might taste, but with an unexpected (label warned) threat of laxative effect - flat, insipid, slightly sickly - with a few nuts strewn within. It certainly doesn't taste of chocolate. As people who read my writing realize, I can't imagine the mentality that drives people to eat this horrible thing regularly. Eat one square of real chocolate and give the rest away - buy an apple - drop a spare few blueberries into a pot of full fat yogurt - anything but this.
I sometimes wonder whether I'm being unfair to this kind of product. The bar tastes kind of sweet, after all, and there are some nuts in there, and the brown stuff covering the filling does kind of look like chocolate, even if it doesn't taste anything like it. And anyway, the chocolate of the normal Baby Ruth doesn't taste like chocolate either. Am I just sneering at something people want to eat? Well, yes, but I think my sneer is deserved. If even one person reads this and decides to put aside the sugar free Baby Ruth and do something else instead, I'll be glad. We don't all need to suddenly become yoeman farmers - but if we can put the person who invented this candy out of a job, then we'll have done something good anyway.
1/24/2005
Today is Championship sunday in the NFL, and two great games bookend the afternoon. As much as it pains me to say something nice about the despised AFC, however, the class of the games today is clearly New England's visit to Pittsburgh - the two best teams in the league, both tough, and nasty, and happy to play outside on a freezing, snow filled Pennsylvania evening. This kind of game is why I'm a football fan.
And, coincidentally, the games give me a great excuse to make one of my favorite stews (chili), and accompaniments (cornbread). Read below the fold for recipes
Football Chili
I don't put beans in my chili, and I don't use ground beef. I know some people do both those things, and the chili tastes great, but I think of chili as a normal beef stew with some different spices - and for that you need good, fatty, cubes of beef. I had some wonderful chuck, but a number of other cuts would do as well. I also always try to add some bony meat for its fat content and for its gelatinous properties, which help thicken the stew. The chili I'm eating today is flavored with a great looking lamb neck bone.
I brown the beef in olive oil until crusty and caramelized, and then take them out of the pan to sautee my thinly sliced onions and crushed garlic in the mix of beef fat and the vegetable oil until soft. Then the beef gets put back into the pan, is salted and peppered, and gets spiced by 5 chopped habanero peppers. I know the conventional wisdom is to seed the peppers before cooking, but I like my food spicy. Others will disagree.
I then add a tin of good diced tomatoes to the pan, and then a bottle of decent beer - I like to use German or Eastern European lagers. If you need more liquid, some water or chicken stock will do fine. I add cumin that I've ground from the seeds, and also add some herbs tied up in a cheese cloth - I used thyme, coriander, and parsley today. From then on, the chili is easy. Let it bubble at a very low simmer for three or four hours, until quite thick. Let cool, and refrigerate for a night. Chili (and all stews) are always better slowly reheated the next day.
"Easy" Corn Bread
I found this cornbread on a bag of cornmeal, but it's remarkably good. normally, I eat much rougher cornbreads (that is to say, with higher ratios of corn to flour) with very little sugar, but I was in the mood for this one today. If you want a slightly more authentic experience, instead of pouring the batter into a prepared pan you can put the pan with oil and butter into the oven, and pour the batter into this sizzling fat before putting back into the oven.
Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. Combine 1.25 cups of self raising flour with .75 cups of cornmeal (and this can be adjusted as you like). Add up to .25 cups of sugar, though I like a lot less. Finally, stir in a cup of whole milk, a beaten egg, and .25 cups of olive oil (though less will work too). Mix throughly and pour into a prepared (i.e, oiled) loaf pan. Bake for about 25 minutes until golden and done.
And, coincidentally, the games give me a great excuse to make one of my favorite stews (chili), and accompaniments (cornbread). Read below the fold for recipes
Football Chili
I don't put beans in my chili, and I don't use ground beef. I know some people do both those things, and the chili tastes great, but I think of chili as a normal beef stew with some different spices - and for that you need good, fatty, cubes of beef. I had some wonderful chuck, but a number of other cuts would do as well. I also always try to add some bony meat for its fat content and for its gelatinous properties, which help thicken the stew. The chili I'm eating today is flavored with a great looking lamb neck bone.
I brown the beef in olive oil until crusty and caramelized, and then take them out of the pan to sautee my thinly sliced onions and crushed garlic in the mix of beef fat and the vegetable oil until soft. Then the beef gets put back into the pan, is salted and peppered, and gets spiced by 5 chopped habanero peppers. I know the conventional wisdom is to seed the peppers before cooking, but I like my food spicy. Others will disagree.
I then add a tin of good diced tomatoes to the pan, and then a bottle of decent beer - I like to use German or Eastern European lagers. If you need more liquid, some water or chicken stock will do fine. I add cumin that I've ground from the seeds, and also add some herbs tied up in a cheese cloth - I used thyme, coriander, and parsley today. From then on, the chili is easy. Let it bubble at a very low simmer for three or four hours, until quite thick. Let cool, and refrigerate for a night. Chili (and all stews) are always better slowly reheated the next day.
"Easy" Corn Bread
I found this cornbread on a bag of cornmeal, but it's remarkably good. normally, I eat much rougher cornbreads (that is to say, with higher ratios of corn to flour) with very little sugar, but I was in the mood for this one today. If you want a slightly more authentic experience, instead of pouring the batter into a prepared pan you can put the pan with oil and butter into the oven, and pour the batter into this sizzling fat before putting back into the oven.
Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. Combine 1.25 cups of self raising flour with .75 cups of cornmeal (and this can be adjusted as you like). Add up to .25 cups of sugar, though I like a lot less. Finally, stir in a cup of whole milk, a beaten egg, and .25 cups of olive oil (though less will work too). Mix throughly and pour into a prepared (i.e, oiled) loaf pan. Bake for about 25 minutes until golden and done.
Phoebe disagrees with my post on French Women Don't Get Fat below. She makes two points - first, that I overstate the French health advantage, and second, that "incidental walking", as I describe it, is ineffective in producing weight loss. I suspect we agree on more than not, but I do want to address these two points.
As to the magnitude of the French obesity advantage, it is broadly true that the French are slowly getting fatter. As Phoebe concedes, however, the extent to which this is true can be pretty closely tied to their increasing abandoment of the lifestyle I was lauding. No, it's not true that literally all French people are lean and trim - I overstated the case. But obesity in France in at least half of what it is in the US according to the statistics I've seen, which is astonishing for a country so singularly unobsessed with weight. I've lived with French people at universities, both men and women - I've spent a lot of time there as well. Weight loss is simply not on the agenda in the way it is here. And that's because the people are leaner - not because wine is some sort of mysterious de-fatter, but because they eat less and exercise (in a broad sense) more.
Second, incidental walking is indeed effective in burning calories and fat. The article to which Phoebe links makes no claim otherwise - it merely says there are better ways of burning calories, and that walking doesn't create muscle. Those are both true, but a constant burn of even 300 or 400 calories per day (an hour or so of brisk walking) will have powerful effects on weight. I hate pulling out personal anecdotes, but it certainly worked for me. Do I now do other sports as well? Of course - that's how you develop cardiovascular fitness and muscle tone. But walking will help, and it will help because if you design your life right, you can't avoid doing it.
As to the magnitude of the French obesity advantage, it is broadly true that the French are slowly getting fatter. As Phoebe concedes, however, the extent to which this is true can be pretty closely tied to their increasing abandoment of the lifestyle I was lauding. No, it's not true that literally all French people are lean and trim - I overstated the case. But obesity in France in at least half of what it is in the US according to the statistics I've seen, which is astonishing for a country so singularly unobsessed with weight. I've lived with French people at universities, both men and women - I've spent a lot of time there as well. Weight loss is simply not on the agenda in the way it is here. And that's because the people are leaner - not because wine is some sort of mysterious de-fatter, but because they eat less and exercise (in a broad sense) more.
Second, incidental walking is indeed effective in burning calories and fat. The article to which Phoebe links makes no claim otherwise - it merely says there are better ways of burning calories, and that walking doesn't create muscle. Those are both true, but a constant burn of even 300 or 400 calories per day (an hour or so of brisk walking) will have powerful effects on weight. I hate pulling out personal anecdotes, but it certainly worked for me. Do I now do other sports as well? Of course - that's how you develop cardiovascular fitness and muscle tone. But walking will help, and it will help because if you design your life right, you can't avoid doing it.
This week's installment involves Japanese food, the Oxford Companion to Food, any my desperate efforts to find bonito flakes in a Japanese supermarket. Great fun, from my perspective
What I'm Reading [About Food] this Week: The Oxford Companion to Food, Alan Davidson
The English do a great job with quirky, long gestating, writing. My great favorite, the Lord of the Rings, of course, took decades to complete - and the Silmarillion was never finished. The Oxford Companion to Food, similarly, has been in the works for twenty years, groaning slowly towards completion. The finished product, however, was worth the wait. This is a terrific reference.
It's not that Davidson has produced the most comprehensive food reference possible. The entries are often incomplete in an objective sense, and as the author notes in introduction, "there were to be no recipes, and there are none". But the breadth and of Davidson's work, and the unexpected directions in which he takes entries more than make up for any shortcomings. Take, for example, his inclusion of "Noah's Ark", and his short musing on what the inhabitants might have done for food - or his description of the combat between two hotels for title to the veritable Sachertorte in the early 19th century. These aren't meant to be part an encyclopedic collection of everything about food, but things one particular man found interesting, and I think the final product is better for it.
This isn't to say that The Oxford Companion to Food isn't good for reference. The number of topics covered is impressive, and Davidson even squeezes in an entry on our favorite ortolan, noting that Alexander Dumas favored drowning them in vinegar to killing them otherwise. To tell you the truth, however, I still think the best part of the whole book is the extremely full bibliography. Ever needed to find out who wrote The Confectioner's Oracle? - I don't, but the answer is William Gunter. For information of that kind on hand at all times, ready for dipping into at random, I'm willing to pay the cover price of $49.95. And you should too.
What I'm eating this week
So, it turns out that shopping in a Japanese supermarket is harder than it looks. I thought I was doing well by looking for a fish logo when I needed bonito flakes for the basic Japanese stock (dashi), but that's less helpful when there are 8 tubs of fish logo-ed flakes of one sort or another in a row, all shouting indescipherable Japanese slogans in the same lurid purples and pinks After a quick check of the notes I had brought along, I found the ones without sesame seeds, or peppers, or strange other things i didn't know anything about. From there, it was a pretty straightforward thing to find the Aka (Red) miso, and not the Red miso with all sorts of things simmered as well, or the white miso that looks more beige than white. I'm still not sure all the ingredients I got were the right ones, but they'll have to do.
All the above makes pretty clear that my theme for the week is Japanese food, and specifically miso. I'm going to brush it on salmon, and broil it till crisp - and eat that with miso soup made of dashi and miso. I've got some firm tofu to brush with more miso and grill with mushrooms, to be eaten with short grain japanese brown rice seasoned with miso. If I need it, there will also be miso soup with udon and mushrooms and kale. Sure, that's probably too much miso for one week, but that kind of immersion is probably a good way to start. I'll report back on my experiment next week.
What I'm Reading [About Food] this Week: The Oxford Companion to Food, Alan Davidson
The English do a great job with quirky, long gestating, writing. My great favorite, the Lord of the Rings, of course, took decades to complete - and the Silmarillion was never finished. The Oxford Companion to Food, similarly, has been in the works for twenty years, groaning slowly towards completion. The finished product, however, was worth the wait. This is a terrific reference.
It's not that Davidson has produced the most comprehensive food reference possible. The entries are often incomplete in an objective sense, and as the author notes in introduction, "there were to be no recipes, and there are none". But the breadth and of Davidson's work, and the unexpected directions in which he takes entries more than make up for any shortcomings. Take, for example, his inclusion of "Noah's Ark", and his short musing on what the inhabitants might have done for food - or his description of the combat between two hotels for title to the veritable Sachertorte in the early 19th century. These aren't meant to be part an encyclopedic collection of everything about food, but things one particular man found interesting, and I think the final product is better for it.
This isn't to say that The Oxford Companion to Food isn't good for reference. The number of topics covered is impressive, and Davidson even squeezes in an entry on our favorite ortolan, noting that Alexander Dumas favored drowning them in vinegar to killing them otherwise. To tell you the truth, however, I still think the best part of the whole book is the extremely full bibliography. Ever needed to find out who wrote The Confectioner's Oracle? - I don't, but the answer is William Gunter. For information of that kind on hand at all times, ready for dipping into at random, I'm willing to pay the cover price of $49.95. And you should too.
What I'm eating this week
So, it turns out that shopping in a Japanese supermarket is harder than it looks. I thought I was doing well by looking for a fish logo when I needed bonito flakes for the basic Japanese stock (dashi), but that's less helpful when there are 8 tubs of fish logo-ed flakes of one sort or another in a row, all shouting indescipherable Japanese slogans in the same lurid purples and pinks After a quick check of the notes I had brought along, I found the ones without sesame seeds, or peppers, or strange other things i didn't know anything about. From there, it was a pretty straightforward thing to find the Aka (Red) miso, and not the Red miso with all sorts of things simmered as well, or the white miso that looks more beige than white. I'm still not sure all the ingredients I got were the right ones, but they'll have to do.
All the above makes pretty clear that my theme for the week is Japanese food, and specifically miso. I'm going to brush it on salmon, and broil it till crisp - and eat that with miso soup made of dashi and miso. I've got some firm tofu to brush with more miso and grill with mushrooms, to be eaten with short grain japanese brown rice seasoned with miso. If I need it, there will also be miso soup with udon and mushrooms and kale. Sure, that's probably too much miso for one week, but that kind of immersion is probably a good way to start. I'll report back on my experiment next week.
I'm also participating in the 50 Book Challenge. I think I'm going to do most of the blogging for it over on my own site, but I'll put up appropriate books here - and also, of course, many of my "What I'm Reading about Food this Week" entries will be involved. Anyway, you can see the first 4 books I've read this year over on my site . Here's a taste
Book #4 - French Women Don't Get Fat, Mireille Guiliano
I'm not the type of person who normally reads women's self help books. But this particular book sounded promising - I was hoping that Guiliano was able to distill my basic philosophy when it comes to food (which itself is largely French) in a way that people would like to read it. All of us want vindication sometimes.
I'll dispense with the book's weak points first. The recipes are lousy - you'd be much better off picking up a copy of any book by Richard Olney, and I'm surprised there's no such recommendation. Second, Guiliano's constant, unexplained, divergences into French are really very annoying. Yes, I know I do it sometimes too, and I know it's supposed to be cute and whimsical, but I would argue that any use of French in food writing ought to actually be necessary. Writing "moderation is the key" in French doesn't count. Third, Guiliani is personally really well off, as a big cheese in Veuve Cliquot America (incidentally, bits of the book come across as an ad for the champagne, but one ought to cut her some slack). That's obviously not a problem, but it does come through in her recommendations to eat a lot of oysters, or to adorn your potatoes with caviar. I agree that the vast majority of people can indeed afford oysters (say), in the way the French do (once a year, at Christmas). But shorn of that context, which she doesn't really provide, one is left somewhat with the impression that the lifestyle Guiliano recommends is beyond the reach of most people. That isn't true.
Having said all that, the book really does provide what it purports to provide - the secrets of why all French people, not just women, remain lean and trim. What Guiliano says largely corresponds to my experience. First, the French incorporate much more walking into their daily routines. And I don't mean the forced march of health walks that most people think of - decked out in sweats and those goofy ankle weights - but what Guiliano rightly calls incidental walking. That is, walking to work, because you live a mile or so from the office, or walking to the grocer, who happens to be down the way, because you've forgotten the cream. That's the kind of exercise that slaughters calories, and when Guiliano recommends moving to somewhere where incidental walking is unavoidable, I'm in complete agreement. Personally, I'll never live further than a mile and a half from work, or closer than half a mile or so. The health benefits of that daily treck are simply too important.
Second, Guilano's message of moderation is precisely right. The American intuition has always been to categorically eliminate one type of food or add another - fat, carbs, bran, oats, olive oil, wine. These are sometimes effective short term solutions, but they have nothing to do with long term weight loss and maintenance for the general population. I agree with Guiliano that the real solution is a matter of attitude - the belief that food is a special pleasure, and that preparing your own, delicious, meals well balanced between taste and health is necessary to a sustainable diet regime. I'm not sure she'll be successful in pushing the re-institution of multi-course meals in America (though that would be great), but the basic point is right - meals should be exciting opportunities to try something you're looking forward to eating. You owe it to yourself to make the effort.
I'm not sure if Guiliano's effort will make much difference in the obesity wars. But it's at least a symbol of how we should be approaching the problem, and perhaps a warning as to how far off track many of our efforts are. I wouldn't buy the book - it's far too short a read for long term use, but if you're interested in the modern problems of health and food at all, this is an excellent addition to the literature.
Book #4 - French Women Don't Get Fat, Mireille Guiliano
I'm not the type of person who normally reads women's self help books. But this particular book sounded promising - I was hoping that Guiliano was able to distill my basic philosophy when it comes to food (which itself is largely French) in a way that people would like to read it. All of us want vindication sometimes.
I'll dispense with the book's weak points first. The recipes are lousy - you'd be much better off picking up a copy of any book by Richard Olney, and I'm surprised there's no such recommendation. Second, Guiliano's constant, unexplained, divergences into French are really very annoying. Yes, I know I do it sometimes too, and I know it's supposed to be cute and whimsical, but I would argue that any use of French in food writing ought to actually be necessary. Writing "moderation is the key" in French doesn't count. Third, Guiliani is personally really well off, as a big cheese in Veuve Cliquot America (incidentally, bits of the book come across as an ad for the champagne, but one ought to cut her some slack). That's obviously not a problem, but it does come through in her recommendations to eat a lot of oysters, or to adorn your potatoes with caviar. I agree that the vast majority of people can indeed afford oysters (say), in the way the French do (once a year, at Christmas). But shorn of that context, which she doesn't really provide, one is left somewhat with the impression that the lifestyle Guiliano recommends is beyond the reach of most people. That isn't true.
Having said all that, the book really does provide what it purports to provide - the secrets of why all French people, not just women, remain lean and trim. What Guiliano says largely corresponds to my experience. First, the French incorporate much more walking into their daily routines. And I don't mean the forced march of health walks that most people think of - decked out in sweats and those goofy ankle weights - but what Guiliano rightly calls incidental walking. That is, walking to work, because you live a mile or so from the office, or walking to the grocer, who happens to be down the way, because you've forgotten the cream. That's the kind of exercise that slaughters calories, and when Guiliano recommends moving to somewhere where incidental walking is unavoidable, I'm in complete agreement. Personally, I'll never live further than a mile and a half from work, or closer than half a mile or so. The health benefits of that daily treck are simply too important.
Second, Guilano's message of moderation is precisely right. The American intuition has always been to categorically eliminate one type of food or add another - fat, carbs, bran, oats, olive oil, wine. These are sometimes effective short term solutions, but they have nothing to do with long term weight loss and maintenance for the general population. I agree with Guiliano that the real solution is a matter of attitude - the belief that food is a special pleasure, and that preparing your own, delicious, meals well balanced between taste and health is necessary to a sustainable diet regime. I'm not sure she'll be successful in pushing the re-institution of multi-course meals in America (though that would be great), but the basic point is right - meals should be exciting opportunities to try something you're looking forward to eating. You owe it to yourself to make the effort.
I'm not sure if Guiliano's effort will make much difference in the obesity wars. But it's at least a symbol of how we should be approaching the problem, and perhaps a warning as to how far off track many of our efforts are. I wouldn't buy the book - it's far too short a read for long term use, but if you're interested in the modern problems of health and food at all, this is an excellent addition to the literature.
I'm taking a course in food and drug law this semester, which has turned out to be a lot of fun. Reading the casebook, I came across this excerpt from a deposition. I think it speaks for itself;
Q. Mr. Konicov, does your firm still market a tape called "Astro Sounds"?
A. Yes, we do.
Q. How does it differ from the other tapes?
A. It's just a bunch of loud, squeaky noises.
Q. And what is it supposed to do?
A. I don't know.
Q. Why do you sell the tape if you don't know what it does or purports to do?
A. Why?
Q. Yes.
A. To give people a choice to buy it or not to buy it.
Q. Mr. Konicov, does your firm still market a tape called "Astro Sounds"?
A. Yes, we do.
Q. How does it differ from the other tapes?
A. It's just a bunch of loud, squeaky noises.
Q. And what is it supposed to do?
A. I don't know.
Q. Why do you sell the tape if you don't know what it does or purports to do?
A. Why?
Q. Yes.
A. To give people a choice to buy it or not to buy it.
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