Umeboshi: The Lively Little Plum!

Final Food History Paper
Introduction

There is one taste that I crave. It is a combination of sour and salty. To trace this love of a particular taste, I can look back at my experiences as a young child, consuming only food my parents prepared for me. My first experience with food, beyond my mother’s milk, were macrobiotic staples derived from Japanese cuisine, like brown rice, miso, seitan, sea vegetables and of course umeboshi. The latter is what readily sticks in my memory. After the task of making obento boxes in my Anthropology of Food class, the sight, smell and taste of the umeboshi that were offered as items for our obentos sparked my taste buds. I realized that salty and sour sensation that I was craving was from a food that I grew up with: umeboshi! How does this intriguing pink, wrinkled, once upon a time plum, immediately throw me back to bouts of memory? And why did this taste, so far removed sweetness, become something I crave? Finally and most importantly, what does umeboshi have to offer the consumer? Before I dive into the latter question, I want to look at the function umeboshi had in my own life as well as historically.

A New Taste

In macrobiotics, umeboshi is used either as a food condiment or as a medicine for ailments. My family would supplement umeboshi paste for traditional American condiments. For example, instead of butter on an ear of sweet corn, my mother would smear umeboshi paste. At that time I did not know what butter on corn tasted like, so the sweet taste of cooked corn exemplified by the salty/sourness of the umeboshi paste was the complete experience of eating corn on the cob. The alternate medicinal function for my family was eating one whole umeboshi plum to cure a stomachache. In having a food that I was already accustomed used as a remedy, I always accepted the umeboshi as treatment. I remember nibbling the pickled flesh down to the pit. Next, my favorite part was splitting the pit with a nutcracker and eating the softened bitter seed within. Shortly after consumption my stomachache was gone. I began “faking” stomachaches to obtain more umeboshi and as I got older “sneaking” whole plums at any opportune time. My mother used to get upset at me because umeboshi was to be used sparingly.

I think that the reason I enjoyed the taste so much was partly to do with the experience of having a food item work to overcome an ailment. I also think that having umeboshi as one of the first foods I was introduced to created a positive relationship with that taste. As a child the particular taste of sourness and saltiness meant umeboshi. I do not think it would be so absurd to suggest that I learned the word “umeboshi” before I learned the words “sour” or “salty”. In a sense umeboshi encompassed a new taste, something beyond salty and sour. In other words, I would propose that the umeboshi plum describes an alternate taste; a taste that the English language does not have a word for. Also, there are rarely any foods in contemporary American cuisine that is advocated as both medicinal and flavorful.

History

Interestingly, according to The Kushi Institute “Ume is usually translated as 'plum', but this particular 'plum', prunus mume, is actually a species of apricot.” The ume tree holds a legacy in Japan with the white or pink ume blossoms reflected in ancient Japanese art and poetry. Ume blossoms look very similar to the traditional sakura (cherry) blossoms, but the ume tree blooms earlier and thus traditionally was a symbol for Spring. A Wikipedia article states, “Japanese tradition holds that the Ume functions as a protective charm against evil. For this reason, the Ume is traditionally planted in the north-east of the garden, the direction from which evil is believed to come. The eating of the pickled fruit for breakfast is also supposed to stave off misfortune.” According to Raw, the Art of Living the original fruit is actually inedible and even poisonous because the fruit falls from the branch before fully ripened into a form suitable for human consumption. Therefore, the recipe of pickling and drying salvaged the otherwise inedible fruit. The process has been passed down through generations and requires patience because the umes are left for a minimum of one month (and up to five years is acceptable) in a container with only sea salt. A loose, but heavy lid or stone is placed on top of the salted fruit and according to Eden Foods, “The combination of salt and pressure extracts the juice creating the pickle brine” and “Desirable lactic acid bacteria quickly multiply under these conditions inhibiting the growth of undesirable microorganisms and enzymes.” The final step is to dry the plums in the sun, and once adequately wrinkled they are returned to the juices. The other important component is the addition of Shiso (beefsteak leaves) during the pickling process or after the umes are dried. Eden Foods states “besides adding color to the umeboshi, red shiso contains a natural preservative called 'perilla-aldehyde,' that is documented to have over one thousand times the strength of synthetic preservatives used in food and when ingested contributes to digestive health.”

Just as the recipe does not have a precise method, there is no concrete history of the origins of umeboshi. Professor Watanabe gives a suggested historical account that the ume tree and the use of the fruit as medicine was transplanted to Japan from China in the Nara period (710-794). She also suggests “In the middle of the Heian period (794-1192), the umeboshi appeared in writing for the first time.” At that time and until the Edo period beginning in 1867 umeboshi was used mainly for medicinal purposes including fatigue and even packing wounds. Eventually the taste of ume went beyond medicinal purposes and in modern Japan it is a common ingredient in both onigiri (rice balls) and obento boxes. Interestingly, as discussed by Professor Watanabe, before umeboshi became a food source, it was only created with salt and not the shisho leaves. I wonder if the reason for adding the shisho leaves was initially for the added color, and then the practice became more viable with the nutrients and natural preservative the shisho added. In Japanese Mothers and Obentos, Allison states “Presentation is critical: not to the extent that taste and nutrition are displaced, as has been sometimes attributed to Japanese food, but to the degree that how food looks is at least as important as how it tastes and how good and sustaining it is for one’s body” (p. 197). Would the shiso even have been experimented with in food pickling if not for its color that the Japanese found pleasing?

Misrepresented Umeboshi

The significance of umeboshi in the Japanese diet is reminiscent of Italy’s tradition of lardo (pork fat) as discussed by Leitch. She states “Given its dietary importance, it is perhaps not surprising that it was also adopted as a cure for any number of health ailments from an upset stomach to a bad back” (p. 443). Even though this statement is made about lardo, I saw a similarity in a traditional food like umeboshi used to sustain digestive ailments and thus evolves to sustain many parts of a culture, whether medicinal, dietary or a component in a lovingly prepared bento by a mother for her child. However, unlike lardo, the making and distributing of umeboshi does not surmise political action. Also, Umeboshi has not become a “commodity subject” like cacao (Piltcher). This might be partially due to its sour/salty taste that does not suit the masses. However, how long will umeboshi stay outside the mass produced world?

In my research it was disconcerting to find that some umeboshi products made in Japan for American consumers have artificial additives and additional sweeteners. For instance on an online site, Asian Food Grocer, four of the six ume products have monosodium glutamate (MSG), corn syrup and red dye! The irony here is that when you do an Internet search for umeboshi (google search) the majority of website that come up advocate umeboshi as a “health food.” One particular website suggests using umeboshi to cure allergic reactions to MSG without any side note that some brands of umeboshi have MSG. I wonder if this is an American ideology of Japanese foods as pure and wholesome? If so, the result is American websites that advocate umeboshi as a cure all, while ignoring that some umeboshi contains the very additives these sites protest. What is more disconcerting is that if people are unknowingly eating the “artificial” umeboshi as a treatment for ailments, they probably are not receiving the results promised. Would my stomachache be cured if I consumed an umeboshi with MSG? Not likely. Also, how does this replace the true taste of umeboshi with an enhanced or altered version? As discussed by Haden in regarding the “commodification of sensation” and “how the fragile, ‘chemical’ history of taste is being usurped by simulations, as the focus is tightened on the immediacy of thrilling sensations. Chemical additives simulate the qualities of tastes, textures and other gustatory sensations, as the experience of tasting an actual food becomes an impossibility” (p. 349). So for a person who has only had the MSG umeboshi, I would argue that they do not know the true taste of ume.

Last Words

I am not suggesting that the new commodified umeboshi is near that of a Twinkie or a McNugget. However, the fact that brands are selling umeboshi with corn syrup and MSG is just the beginning. I wonder how much longer it will be before umeboshi becomes one the endangered foods on the Slow Foods Movement list: Another addition that needs to be added to the “Arch of Taste.” The possibility that truly scares me however is the knowledge that I would possibly enjoy the new artificial umeboshi over the traditional food that I hold dear in memory.

Additional Resources (not linked in text)

1. Anne Allison, “The Obento as State Ideological Apparatus.” Anthropological Quarterly 64(4):195-208.
2. Roger Haden, “Taste in an Age of Convenience.” In The Taste Culture Reader, Pp. 344-358.
3. Allison Leitch, “Slow Food and the Politics of Pork Fat: Italian Food and European Identity.” Ethnos 68, 4 (December 2003): 437-462.

Images (as presented):

1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Umeboshi.jpg
2. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Fruits_of_Japanese_plum.jpg
3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Umebosi_Doyobosi.jpg
4. http://metropolis.co.jp/biginjapan/350/biginjapaninc.htm

Dumpstering Exposed

“Obsolescence is the state of being which occurs when a person, object, or service is no longer wanted even though it may still be in good working order.”
Wikipedia

I loved how David Giles used “Obsolescence” in his discussion of how food gets defined as trash. At one point he noted, “trash is defined by what it is not.” I think this is very significant to ethics surrounding when something becomes trash. We can say food is rotten or decayed, but the list becomes much longer when we define what it is not: Food is no longer fresh, healthy, new and ultimately it is no longer perfect! So who decides that something is obsolete? In The Revolution Will Not Be Microwaved, Katz states“ The greatest sources of wasted food are retailers and consumer: both regularly overstock and end up discarding perishable items” (p. 288). David gave the example of his involvement with Food Not Bombs and acquiring avocados that would have otherwise been thrown out. He commented that they were not rotten, but ripe (guacamole perfection!). So why would perfectly ripe avocados be thrown out? Well, supposedly the market retailer would do so when a new batch of avocados was available for display. David talked about how retailers view it as more costly to try and market the old food items when new items become available. Another example would be bakeries that produce baked goods everyday. Why waste time trying to sell old bread when new bread is baked (cheaply) each day? I think it is a cycle between consumer and producer, where expectations are created on what is viably edible versus what is not.

So if there is a market for the new food, what happens to the old food? Sadly most of it gets deposited in one of the many landfills throughout the country. In more "recycle conscious" cities, like Seattle, we are able to have food scraps and yard waste picked up separately, which gets made into compost and sold at home and garden stores. Even though making compost is a more reusable approach, the fact remains that edible food is thrown out as trash. Not all the thrown out food makes it to the trash or yard waste. Instead, a third market finds food that is no longer on the dining table or on the shelf as useful: dumpster divers. This third market is made up of more than just the stereotypical image of the vagabond sorting trash. Also, Food Not Bombs has traditionally dumpstered reusable food to create meals for the homeless. Interestingly, David brought up the fact that the Seattle chapter has been able to establish connections with markets and retailers to obtain food before it hits the trash (i.e. avocados from the market).

In addition there is another group, proclaimed or described “punks” who sustain their food needs through dumpsters. My life has intertwined closely with dumpsters. It began with my enthrallment and joining of the punk traveling culture when I was 19. In The Raw and the Rotten: Punk Cuisine, Clark states “So for those punks who were raised White or middle class, dumpster and dumped food dirty their bodies and tarnish their affiliation with a White, bourgeois power structure” (p. 28). At that time I would have not claimed such articulate words, but mere indifference; Why not eat trash? Why would I waste money on food from the very elite I withdraw from? Being part of the punk society meant joining protests against GMO foods (See The Root of All Evil ), but those same food products we protested were okay if they were dumpstered and ate by us or redistributed through Food Not Bombs. It began as an adventure of travels, patchwork hoodies and anarchist revolution and ultimately ended with me stranded on the streets of San Francisco. This brought a whole other aspect of dumpster diving, one in which food in dumpsters became a source of sustenance for survival. There is a difference in how dumstered food is revered; Foremost as the traveling punk thrilled at eating the wastes of society, and concluding as the house-less gutterpunk gulping food to fulfill hunger pains.

This leads me back to this concept of obsolescence pertaining to not only food, but people. David brought up an interesting point about how retailers find it okay to give food away that is destined for the trash as long as that food is being fed to "the homeless." Even though the food might still be good food, by the fact of its denouncement as "trash" or "broken" and okay for homeless people to eat, defines the homeless as also broken and no longer wanted. Interestingly, sometimes people's trash is still too good for the homeless or the dumpster diver identified as such. One of the interviewed punks in The Raw and The Rotten state "There is the odd paradox-- the casualness with which they will throw something into the dumpster and the lengths they will go to protect it once it's there" (p. 27).

image: http://deployview.com/blog/uploaded_images/DumpsterDiving-art-8-763589.png

P-Patch Wander

Teresa Mares led our class on a journey to the University district P-Patch. Nestled on NE 40th Street near 8th Ave NE, I had walked nearby in the past and was surprised to realize I had never noticed the garden space. If my memory serves me correct, this particular p-patch is 14,000 square feet… that’s about two houses plus two generous yards. Almost 50 individual gardening plots are laid out across the area, with paths between to allow for plant tending and also the curious wanderer. Spring was the perfect season for us to go because all of the flowers were in bloom; irises seemed to be the favorite of the many gardeners. Now that I know where the garden is, I would love to walk through during autumn harvest season (I noticed a lot of squash plants, so I can imagine the colorful array when the plants become fruitful).

I learned from Teresa that Seattle is fortunate to have a close relationship with the local government regarding public gardens. Interestingly, she brought up both sides of the equation. In having a close relationship with the local Seattle government means the property is protected from developers, it also means that certain regulations are required. For example, in South Seattle’s Marra Farm; the transition from farm to City of Seattle Park meant adding a gravel lane down the middle so that “trash” could be collected by the city. This seemed a bit ironic to me, because how much “trash” can a garden produce? I’m assuming that the waste the garden does produce is turned into compost?

Speaking of trash brings me to the article “Want Amid Plenty” and the discussion of the amount of food waste, which “totaled a startling 96 billion pounds, or 365 pounds—a pound a day—for every person in the nation.” Of course this was in 1995, over a decade ago! Our population since then has increased and I’m assuming that our food production as a nation has most definitely increased as well. With the awareness of the over abundance of food the U.S. produces and throws out each year, one might wonder why there would be the need for community gardening? If already too much food is produced and over a quarter of that food thrown out, then why would more need to be grown?

I think the answer here goes beyond just hunger and distribution. As we have been discussing in class and something that Michael Pollan reiterates is that the over production is only of certain food products and only grown and produced by a small percentage of farms and companies. The issues go beyond just over production, but how food is grown, produced and who is being benefited. Would I rather help finish off the over abundance of pesticide ridden GMO veggies grown by a big corporate farm? Or would I rather eat local grown food with traceable origins? For myself, I can make this choice because I do not have to depend on food banks or food stamps for my meals. However, in the past I have been dependent on food banks and state aid for my groceries. I think it is great that our country is trying to redistribute food through food banks, but what food is being redistributed? Mostly corn derived products? Thus, it is wonderful that the “P-Patch community gardeners show their concern for the value of fresh organic vegetables by supplying 7 to 10 tons of produce to Seattle food banks each year.” If for some reason in the future I once again have to rely on a food bank, it will be comforting to know that some of the vegetables provided come from local gardens.

Image: http://www.seattle.gov/neighborhoods/ppatch/locations/10.htm

The Big Bad Wolf

The story of the three little pigs; the wolf the evil villain with the ultimate goal of consumption and the pigs with the one goal of sustaining their lives. Interestingly the story all boiled down to what kept the wolf out and kept the pig in. As a child having this story read to me at night created more conviction on why my family did not eat meat (even though my parents choices were more nutritionally based than sympathy based). As I got older and started learning about animal instinct and the whole cycle of life, prey to predator, I tended to sympathize with the wolf. Was he just succumbing to his natural instinct of a need to fulfill hunger? His sharp teeth evolved for the purpose of tearing flesh and likewise his digestive system made to process animal meat. A carnivore true to form! Interestingly enough this cycle of life is not only about eating, but also nature sustaining a natural order of population of living things.

This brings up the question of where humans fit into the equation: Do we sympathize with the human frying up a pan of bacon because she is only following an instinctual guide to eating meat? Or do we sympathize with the pig that unknowingly lived her life to become bacon? I think that these questions can only be answered individually. However, Michael Pollan brings up an alternative perspective of viewing animals as meat, not so much in whether or not we should eat meant, but how the meat is produced and killed. In the chapter so endearingly named “The Ethics of Eating Animals,” Pollan states “The proper measure of their suffering, in other words is not their prior experiences but the unremitting daily frustration of their instincts” (p. 310). So by keeping cattle, pigs and chickens in close quarters and only providing them a limited diet that they did not evolve to eat, is this a form of induced suffering? Interestingly, I have had long debates with my partner, Tim on this matter, because in his younger years he spent a good six months working at a “pig factory” in Missouri. His job in the assembly line was to skin the pigs from snout to tail (the previous person in line had already killed the animal). I have constantly deluged him with questions about how this type of job affected him. Did he hold any empathy for the pigs? Did he get depressed? “No” to both questions. “Meat is meat.” Interestingly enough, he did admit to not liking how they were kept enclosed in compact spaces, reminiscent of Pollan’s description of Poky farms. Tim’s reasoning came down to it being against the natural way of things. So Tim’s issue was not in the method in which they were killed (he said it was very swift), but the method in which they were kept alive prior to being killed.

So how do I view this whole dilemma, to eat meat or not to eat meat? I am writing this after devouring beef kabobs over the weekend—no, not organic or grass fed beef, but the cheapest cubes we could find. For me the cheapness of meat items creates an ease of mind in buying it. Interestingly, as Michael Pollan points out, if we deconstruct this industrialization and essentially brutalization of animals, “Yes, meat would get more expensive. We’d probably eat a lot less of it, too, but maybe when we did eat animals we’d eat them with the consciousness, ceremony, and respect they deserve” (p. 333).

Ramen Omen

“Society is a joint-stock company, in which the members agree, for the better security of his bread to each shareholder, to surrender the liberty and culture of the eater.”
Emerson, 1841

Artificial, Synthetic, Man made…
When did consumer goods move from the real thing to the imitation? Leather to pleather or cotton to polyester: Is the new product ever better than the original? The need to recreate materials, makes sense from a business perspective… why not use plastic to recreate the sensation of cotton if it saves time and money? Though there is always the question of what really is at stake… by creating a capitalist solution, what problem is traded for instead?

When it comes to food, the very nourishment we need to keep us running smoothly, you would think this is one area of playing god that humans would leave alone. Other than genetically altering plants and animals to maximize production, much of our food is filled with artificial flavorings, colorings, and preservatives. In class we had a lovely little test called “Know Your Ingredients.” Surprisingly I did quite well … remember that saying: What you don’t know won’t kill you! Is that so? Ignore disodium insoinate, disodium guanylate, tripolyphosphate and hey chives and garlic, ingredients I know!

So with the knowledge of unknown ingredients, the whole class was presented with the challenge of consuming a cup of ramen. For me it began as a challenge, but my stomach grumbled and it was all over; I consumed every last inch of noodle and sipped the broth down to its last neon yellow drip! The taste was salty and I felt that the more slurps I took of the broth, the more I wanted, also a sense of numbing on my tongue which sublimely sent messages that I had to try more to get to the “true” taste. Afterwards, my stomach felt bloated, my head dizzy from MSG sensitivity and my mouth felt coated with something foreign.

I have had ramen and numerous variants of the instant noodle throughout my years, but for some reason every time I eat this tasty treat, I succumb as if having it for the first time and seem to forget the uncomfortable after affects. This makes me think that the illegible ingredients are ones in which addictive qualities lie. Perhaps the MSG? However, as we talked in class, there are possible other factors that contribute to the allure of commodified taste: possibly created by advertising, convenience and history all wrapped up with taste.

Watch Out Crows!

This past week the class began reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma. Not normally one for introductions, I decided to deviate from my norm and start there. After several pages I was riveted and decided that this was definitely a book to share, and who better with than the person I share most of my meals with: my partner Tim (and our dog Sprocket, though how much she understands is up to interpretation).

I wish I could say that it is reminiscent of the cozy bedtime story time, but the culprit is far worse than the wicked witch of the west. Lets just say that the scarecrow was lucky to be freed by Dorothy from guarding the cornfield, the crows possibly not as lucky. Of course this is all in assumption that the world of OZ is also in the same predicament as the Earth is with our industrialization and genetic manipulation of zea mays: Corn.

Michael Pollan begins the first chapter with a visualization of a supermarket from the naturalist perspective, at first seemingly diverse, but upon closer inspection mostly “a manifestation of corn.” I have thought of myself as pretty aware of the corn epidemic, especially in processed foods and the fact that corn has been altered with built in pesticides and lost its ancestral nutrition, but I learned in this first chapter that corn makes up a good quarter of a supermarket’s goods; food and nonfood items.

Last night I had my first supermarket experience since starting the book and I could not get that first chapter out of my mind. Entering the produce section and looking at the variety and thinking about what has to be done to the food to make it last in shipping from miles away, made me more aware of what choices I was making as a consumer. Walking around the aisles of packages foods, one whole aisle of cereal, rows upon rows of soda, I imagined the origins of many of these products: a cornfield somewhere in Iowa. I could almost imagine a field of corn, in tight rows upon rows, a homogeneous vision of inbred genes, maximized to its harvest potential. However, the by-products of corn on the supermarket shelf are hidden in a variety of items.

With all of this knowledge spinning in my mind, I seriously felt a bit ill and also a bit pissed off! How could such a huge lot be taken up by a grocery store that sells mostly corn? I glanced at cereals and picked up a few, scanning the ingredients feigning surprise at the corn syrup listed first. Not today. After doing this denouncing of other products I usually get including Gatorade and granola bars, I purposely by-passed the snack aisle. I ended up in produce, seemingly a safe haven. Hey, I'd rather have a genetically modified tomato, than a product that has been over produced from remnants of corn. Also, at least produce has a sticker stating the foods origins. As Schneider states in his article Where did that food come from? "The updated law would require that beef, pork, lamb, goat, fresh and frozen fruits and vegetables carry a label with the origin of the food. The no-man's-land of labeling would be the grocery store aisles of processed food in cans, jars and pouches." However, he also mentions that such labeling laws get caught in "red tape". So in other words, it might be easier to trace corn as a main ingredients to somewhere in the Midwest versus knowing without a doubt that the tomato I'm about to buy came from Oregon.

Where am I left in the supermarket? Well, I saved $40 bucks and stuck to the outskirts for the remainder of my shopping. Now what I am frightened of is the shared shopping trip with my partner, Tim. How will I dissuade him from buying his favorite cereal? Then again, if I continue to read aloud from The Omnivore's Dilemma, he will probably become apprehensive of grocery shopping experience as well.

image: http://www.clothespinreferee.com/Images/cornfield.jpg

Root of All Evil

I read All Over Creation several years back as a casual choice, not realizing that this fictional work would link with some of my own experiences. Ozeki’s creation of the “Seeds of Resistance” reminded me of the group I traveled with to Sacramento for a protest in 2003. In comparison to the "Seeds of Resistance" we were less educated and less organized in regards to genetically modified food.

We were a scattered bunch of youth ranging from 15 to 20 years old and drawn together from past lazy summer adventures and toying with ideas of dumpster diving and squatting in Seattle. Banded even more together with past protests in Seattle, against the WTO and the LEIU, we felt freed by marching, rallying, and of course causing chaos. Yes, I would say we idealized anarchy. Did we really know what standing for anarchy meant? I am not so sure now, but regardless of our true values, our new-formed traditions brought us to planning a journey to Sacramento, California to take part in the protest against genetically modified foods.

The journey itself was uneventful, though charged with eagerness. Thinking back, there were several ironic and a bit hypocritical instances in our convictions. For example, our dinners at camp sites on the drive down would be solely made up of huge Burbank potatoes, not organic, just one of the largest bags that someone had snatched from a store before leaving Seattle. Here we were heading for outright dissent against GMO corporations and we were feasting upon the very food, a homogeneous tuber, which was renouned for being genetically altered. Along with corn and soybeans, potato cells were modified with insecticides to ward off predator insects. I think what it came down to was that while we truly believed that GMO was the root of all evil, we lacked some knowledge of what that truly meant in our daily consumption.

We arrived in Sacramento, California and immediately gathered at the central welcome center for the protest. Our first real meal was served by Food Not Bombs, who generously and amazingly fed a good portion of the people gathered for the protest (a hint at how much food is actually thrown out and salvageable, since a good 500+ people were there). I did not think twice about consuming dumpstered food, as such a choice of eating was now a part of my daily life. I remember the first meal served was a kaleidoscope of colors; beats, peppers, apples, greens, garbanzo beans, and other textures and tastes unidentified. It was a thrilling meal, overridden be a rise in adrenaline and moral as we geared up for the protest.

It begin peacefully, marked by colorful costumes of food characters, some as an idealized healthy happy food, smiling ears of corn, or others taking the more literal, killer tomato costumes and the like. Biodev.org reported on September 10th 2003 “Monday’s rally and parade was a true festival of resistance to biotechnology, industrial agriculture, globalization and empire. There were billowing felt tomato costumes, foam rubber trees, chefs wielding giant cooking utensils and UC Davis students’ Beneficial Bug Brigade.”

With any protest, the cops eventually showed up and most of felt that their use of force was undeniably cruel. However my companions, myself and the other young proclaimed anarchists retaliated by matching violence with violence: setting garbage cans afire, tagging businesses (which we later found out were supporters of the protest), and just all out young adult angst. In this aspect, I think we were very much like Ozeki's "Seeds of Resistance" and like many young protesters who romanticize revolution. The press loved people like us, because stories could be built around unruly youth instead of the message against GMO and it’s empire of corporations. I think this is where protesting in the United States falls short because the press coverage is typically negative. However, I also think that protesting can still be very effective in resisiting.

image: http://www.reclaimingquarterly.org/web/sacto/Sacto1.html

Olfaction

"The human tongue can distinguish only among five distinct qualities of taste while the nose can distinguish among hundreds of substances, even in minute quantities." (Wikipedia)

I have noticed in food memoirs, like Marcel Proust’s The Madeleine that it is usually one one of the five senses that really does the trick in bringing back a memory purely. In Proust’s case, it was taste more than anything, as in the combination of the Madeleine and tea that connected through to the memory. For myself, it is scent that always does me in first and the other four senses follow suit in splitting open the memory to it’s full potential, if possible.

Herbs could be boiling in the pot, the smell of charcoal on the wind from a neighboring yard, or just an uncanny scent that I can neither place as what it is or why it seems to nudge at the depths of my mind. Whatever way a particular smell reaches my nostrils and hits my brain brings the realization of memory to be had. The problem that arises for me in realizing I have a memory versus fully encompassing that memory, is that when a scent is on the wind so to speak, I could stand there a whole day with a sense of nostalgia that never moves beyond that. Quite frustrating! It is only when I see the food, touch it, munch on it, and also the sounds incorporated in preparation or consuming, that the full memory unfolds. The latter four can be in any combination, but it is scent first (for me) that ignites the whole process of the memoir.

Bento Bites

So the fabulous fact about taking Anthropology of Food is not only eating food, but creating food!

Last week, our whole classes trekked down to the UW’s kitchen and crowded around tables set with bento making concoctions. Some of us were in awe and others in quizzical anxiety. I was probably more anxious than anything, not so much over the food items, which some I was familiar with, but more so for the fact that we had to make a bento box, not for our own enjoyment, but for a classmate! When making food for myself, I rarely care about visual appeal. In making food for another, the step of plating or in this case packaging (Bentos remind me of little presents), becomes just as essential as taste.

My Bento recipient, Adam brought the bar up by knowing I have a history of Macrobiotics--- he hinted that I probably knew what I was doing. The dilemma with Macrobiotics is that yes it is derived from Japanese cuisine, but to put it this way: Macrobiotics is a part of Japanese cuisine as a carrot is to the vast world of root veggies. Yes, some foods were recognizable, but as far as bento making experience I had zilch; my school lunch during my parents Macrobiotic phase was usually just Tupperware with a whole mess of rice and whatever side dishes we had (by lunch time it usually looked like a glob of stuff).

I guess I was surprised that I felt anxiety over making food for someone else’s enjoyment. I felt a whole new heightened sense of food preparation as I positioned the onigiri and decorations. Once, I got into the process, I started getting creative and looked over at Adam and saw he was getting really into the whole process too!

Once we were finished with our masterpieces, we went and set down to enjoy them joking that this was dinner, though in all actuality this bento container was tiny compared to my typical dinner portion. Now the art of eating! With chopsticks in hand, I went first for the two onigiri that Adam had made, each had seasoning on top and with designs made in nori. The largest one had a face on it and seaweed mixture for hair. After the first bite, it was satisfying, but seemed cruel at the same time, eating this character that took special planning by the giver. I liked how each onigiri was like an egg with a treat inside; first the solid taste of rice and nori, then hitting a different taste in the middle, salmon or umeboshi!

Surprisingly, this small bento filled me up!


(image- Thanks Ann!)

Can you say Cheese

Last weekend my fiancé, my sister and our friend drove to Washougal, WA to visit our dear friends for the weekend. Being only 30 minutes away or so, we spent all day in Portland meandering our way about. Towards the end of the afternoon we had exhausted ourselves wondering from the Saturday Market (which is more of a craft fair… no fresh produce that I saw) and then down and back up Hawthorne Boulevard. As one of our last stops, we ended up wondering into a small grocery store called Pasta Works. Sooner than later we were standing in front of the cheese counter, almost drooling. I immediately spotted Amsterdam Gouda and one of our friends went straight for the creamy goat cheese. After much deliberation and many toothpick tastes, we settled on the Amsterdam Gouda, an aged chipotle cheddar and of course two different goat cheeses.

Once we got back to their home, we cut slice after slice of cheese. Not really knowing what we were doing, some of the cheese crumbled, like the Gouda (I learned quickly you can’t just take a knife and hack away… likewise with the goat cheese). However, crumbles and all created a beautiful plate with crackers of course and thin slices of salami (from the Pasta Works as well) and a side plate with grapes, sliced apples, and pears. Cracker, salami, cheese and fruit all in one bite… Yum. I wish I would have taken a picture, but with stomach rumbling, all that was in my mind was cheese! There is nothing like bringing together a group around a tiny coffee table. Hands reaching every which way, cheese dropping on the floor (our friend’s cats did not mind) and the increasing munching with some grunts of approval.

Last weekend brings me to another cheese experience, one of which I forgotten about since it was seven years ago. It was a legendary Holiday meal because the family excluded the traditional green bean casserole (with much griping) for good ol’ Mac & Cheese. Well, I guess it wasn’t any old Mac & Cheese recipe, but one I had come across randomly in the Oprah magazine: Three Cheese Macaroni. I had never made any kind of macaroni from scratch, saving mac nights for quick meals from a box. This was probably one of the first holidays with family that I truly got in the kitchen and carved a niche out for myself. Did I mention we also decided to deviate from a turkey and went with Cornish hens and wild mushroom stuffing? But the Cornish hen cooking experience is for another entry… lets just say my brother became vegetarian for a bit after that.

The macaroni dish was loved by everyone! If there’s cheese involved count my family in (I guess our younger years eating only soy cheese has created quite the cheese addiction). Before, I leave you with the recipe I wanted to make note that one of the cheeses is fontina, which is an Italian cheese with a strong flavor, almost nutty; the one we got was slightly bitter, but was a nice contrast to the cheddar. If you try it and it's too strong for you, substitute another cheese.

Three Cheese Macaroni
(Lactose intolerant beware!)

Ingredients

½ lb cheddar cheese grated
½ lb fontina cheese grated
5 tablespoons fresh grated Parmesan

1 stick of non-salted butter
2 cups milk (I use 2% )
1 egg
2 tablespoons flour
1 piece toast crumbled
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon paprika
2 tablespoons olive oil

1 ½ lb elbow macaroni

Preheat oven to 350°

Cook pasta, strain, and place in buttered casserole dish (3 quart dish should be good). Lightly mix in the cheddar and fontina with the pasta, saving ½ cup of each cheese. Put dish to the side.

Melt butter in a saucepan and stir in flour and salt until it appears smooth. Very slowly add milk using a whisk to prevent lumps or curdling. Pour sauce over macaroni, saving ½ cup of sauce. Mix egg into leftover sauce and pour over macaroni. Sprinkle remaining cheddar and fontina over top.

Mix crumbled toast, Parmesan and olive oil and then put on the top of macaroni. Sprinkle paprika over the whole dish

Place casserole dish on a foil lined baking sheet (in case of melting cheese spillage).
Place on oven’s middle rack.
Bake 25 minutes or until bubbly and golden brown

Feeds seven people as a side dish

Recipe is an alteration from one in the December 2001 Oprah magazine: http://www.oprah.com/foodhome/food/recipes/food_200112_macaroni.jhtml

Tomato Summers

Summer in Mississippi defines the word "hot". The dirt dry and cracked, leaving a red dust over everything. That summer when I was nine, I had gone alone to visit my grandparents. I remember looking forward to the treats of white bread, soda pop and candy that my parents did not allow in our home. But this memory is not about eating so-called "junk" food, which I definitely did in abundance, but instead about how I fell in love with tomatoes as a child. These weren't just any tomatoes, but were picked fresh from my grandpa's garden. Before each meal that summer, I would be sent out to pick a few off the over zealous plants that took over a good corner of the yard. The tomatoes were dusty, but once washed, a deep red and when sliced, the flesh perfect.

As a child, I was not a picky-eater, but tomatoes had been on my unsure list along with mushrooms. On other visits, I had always been with my parents and would be more inclined to refuse (or at least whisper to my parents) about foods my grandparents would serve that I was unsure about eating. However, visiting alone, was different and without my parents to pass the word on about what I would not eat, my grandparents would serve me up a plate and I would eat out of politeness.

I can remember the first morning I was there that summer, sitting at their oak table. My grandma served me a plate with eggs and toast and my grandpa brought over the plate of sliced tomatoes and placed it right nearby, almost expectantly. Of course the rest is history, because after my first bite followed by a bit of eggs... I was in love with tomatoes! Why had I spent my nine years avoiding them? The different textures of skin, flesh and seeds was delicious, especially when followed by a bit of egg or toast. My young mind ran with the possibilities and a whole new understanding of why you would want to leave the tomatoes on a BLT!


image: http://www.thisoldhouse.com/toh/article/0,,191671-5,00.html