Julia

Lately I've been watching DVD's of Julia Child's earliest cooking shows. I've been doing some cooking demos myself, and I thought it would be a good idea to learn from the master, and also get a fresh look at the TV cooking show genre in its infancy.

I never watched Julia when I was a child. Until I started watching these old shows my main experience of her came from guest appearances with celebrities like Emeril, Graham Kerr, and Martha Stewart, where she was rightfully treated like a venerable matriarch.

These shows are much different. She has presence and poise, but she doesn't seem quite confident yet. Most of the recipes are simple, and she even offers suggestions for substituting canned ingredients for homemade ones.

The production details are fascinating as well. Some of the bowls and enamel pans are chipped, giving a real sense that nobody had any idea at that point that she--and the whole phenomenon of television cooking shows--would be so popular. I was also surprised to see her cooking on an electric stove, and I don't mean one of the fancy modern flat tops.

All in all, it's refreshing to see that this woman whose work gave rise to so much culinary snobbery was so wonderfully down to earth herself.

Creativity

I was asked to prepare some food for a local public radio station's pledge drive this week, and my first thought was that it would be a great opportunity to do something out of the ordinary. The cooking I do these days is mostly repetitive, and part of me craves a chance to do something different.

But I had some extra tamales after Sunday's market so I decided to steam those up instead, along with a simple salad. It made more sense on a practical level, and the tamales are special too.

I read a book many years ago called The E-Myth, a profound, insightful book that changed the way I think about business, although it was so badly written I almost couldn't get through it. The central idea is that each entrepreneur has to wear three hats: we're artists, technicians, and managers. (It was so long ago that I'm not even certain that those were the exact terms, but they do communicate the general idea.)

The artist represents the creative energy, that spark which drives many of us to strike out on our own. The technician is the detail and production oriented aspect of our personalities, while the manager looks at the big picture, making the business work as a whole. According to the author, most businesses fail because one persona dominates the equation at the expense of the others, and the key to having a successful business is striking a good balance.

Lately I've been more of a manager than an artist, and I've been lucky enough to be able to delegate a lot of the technician work. The food is creative in the sense that we're continually improving our vegetable mix, but that uses a quiet, rather than flamboyant, type of creativity.

These days the managerial work actually feels creative as well, learning to motivate my employees and finding simple, elegant solutions to day-to-day situations.

Systems

I've been trying a new system in my market booth the past few weeks. We've always had a front person who takes orders, makes change and drinks, and then directs customers around the side of the booth to the other person who cranks out the food. The front person moves people through their line as quickly as possible, and when it's busy there can be a bit of a wait before the food is ready. When I'd set up the system I'd assumed that if each part of the operation ran as quickly and efficiently as possible, then the whole process would be optimally efficient.

When I was snowed in around Christmas time I read a "business novel" called The Goal, one of those unfortunate books that introduces business concepts by trying to weave them into a story. In spite of my difficulties with the format, I did learn something. The book is about a plant manager who is told that he's going to lose his job if he doesn't dramatically improve efficiency. So he finds a guru who tells him to look for "bottlenecks", or places where things get backed up. He finds ways to move things more efficiently through the bottlenecks and this makes the whole operation more efficient and profitable, and he gets to keep his job and save his marriage.

I asked myself if there were any bottlenecks in my own systems, and the only thing I could think of was the way the line would get backed up as people waited for food to come off the grill. So lately we've been taking a few orders at a time, and the front person works with the back person until they're all filled, and then we take a few more orders.

It's taken us a little while to get the hang of it, but it feels smoother every week. We don't seem to be selling any less food, and folks do seem less ornery because they don't have to wait in line twice.

The Lapsed Locavore

1. Oregon's Statesman Journal ran an article earlier this month about an aspiring locavore who threw in the towel. That's about as newsworthy a topic as "Dieter Succombs to Temptation and Eats Cake", or "Vegan Craves Protein and Eats Steak".

To their credit, they had been running occasional articles about his undertaking. But the article made me think about a term I'd stumbled across recently: "locavore backlash".

Maybe we all just need to get out more.

Weather Reports

I had a great day at the Ballard Farmers' Market yesterday. It was especially good because I'd expected it to be slow after checking the weather reports.

As someone whose livelihood often depends on the weather, I check local weather reports obsessively. First I check weather.com, which gives me a long range view of the upcoming week. Then I look at the KIRO web page, which tends to be somewhat more accurate in the short term. That's not surprising in light of the fact that they're focused on weather specifically for this area, rather than all over the world. Lastly, I look at the Cliff Mass weather blog, which has plenty of fascinating information, especially about how difficult it is to predict the weather in this area, though ironically he happens to be wrong a lot more often than the other, more imprecise forecasts.

When the weather reports call for sunny days I know to bring plenty of lemonade, and more food in general, because there will be more people at the markets. When the predictions call for rain I bring somewhat less product.

Yesterday was an interesting case because all of the forecasts called for rain and yet it was a reasonably nice day. I think some of the best market days happen under those circumstances. My theory is that people don't make plans for outdoor day trips because of the forecasts, but when the weather turns out to be okay they still want to be outside, so many of them go to the market.

It may be a crackpot theory, or there may be some truth to it. In either case, it's my little way of trying to assert some measure of control over something that I know is actually completely out of my control.

Kallari Chocolate

I found this chocolate bar at Whole Foods the other day. The price was right and the packaging was appealing, so I went for it.

I've written before about my ambivalence towards Fair Trade products. Sure, I believe that folks should be fairly paid for their work, but I'm wary of some of the ways the label is used as a marketing tool, and I'm often singularly unimpressed with the quality of fair trade products.

This chocolate bar was interesting. (I say that even though I bristle when folks describe my food as "interesting". ) It was a bit grainy, and the flavor was kind of rough. But I couldn't tell whether the roughness was deliberate--like Michelangelo leaving some of his raw stone uncut for aesthetic reasons--or whether it was rough because the chocolatiers aren't as accomplished as some of the French processors who make a very smooth product.

Chocolate is one of the most complex flavors around. That's why it can be successfully mixed with everything from chiles, to cinnamon, to anise, to salt. It's lovely processed into a sleek, creamy bar, but there's also something to be said for a bar where you get to taste something closer to that magical, unrefined bean.

Wasted Shrimp

There were some shrimp on the ground where I parked my car at the Cash and Carry the other day. They were pretty stinky.

The only thing worse than shrimp that have been raised on toxic fish farms in third world countries where indigenous fisherman used to be able to earn an independent living is seeing those same shrimp going to waste.

I bet some local cat was pretty happy.

Political Action Water

I bought a bottle of water the other day. I've been trying to avoid buying bottled water lately, after growing aware of the issues surrounding the bottled water industry: their sinister privatization of the global water supply, the conspiracy to convince us that tap water is unsafe, and the fact that billions of plastic water bottles end up in landfills every year instead of being recycled. And yet there are situations when it makes more sense to buy a bottle of water than it does to go thirsty.

I found myself in one of these situations, so I bought a bottle of water. I was at Central Coop's Madison Market, and I was pleased to see that they had the Okanogan Highlands water that I used to drink whenever I found it back in the days before I really understood about the evils of bottled water.

The label reads, "Water is more precious than gold." The proprietor began bottling this water in reaction to an 1872 law which prioritizes gold mining over a supply of fresh, clean water. I've met him. He's a great guy with a lot of integrity. But as I finished off the last of the water in the bottle I was struck by this irony: his message is that we all have a right to pure water and the mining companies can't take that away from us. And yet the big bottled water companies are treating water the way the mining companies treat gold, that is, as a resource that can be appropriated for individual profit rather than for the common good.

Large Portions

According to an article in yesterday's New York Times, the recipes in the contemporary edition of the Joy of Cooking average nearly 50% more calories than the recipes from the first edition, which came out 73 years ago. The increase is due to the fact that the newer recipes call for ingredients with more calories, and also because the portion sizes created by the recipes are larger.

That's not terribly surprising, in light of the fact that our technologies for agriculture and food production have grown much more efficient during the intervening years, producing considerably more food than any of us need to stay alive.

Brian Wansink, one of the authors of the paper that reported these findings, attributed the trend in part to the fact that we're now able to afford more higher calorie ingredients, like meat and fat. Wansink is the guy who studies the effects of visual cues on our consumption habits, like the fact that we tend to eat more chips when we're munching out of a big bag.

I like to overeat sometimes, mostly on special occasions when there's great food around. Part of me enjoys that mildly uncomfortable feeling of having eaten more than was truly necessary, as long as it's not an everyday thing and it doesn't reach the point of severe discomfort. I think about the fact that humans have been overeating in celebration since the beginning of time. It's hard to keep that in perspective now that we have the resources to overeat on a daily basis.

"Pay As You Feel" Lentil Soup

1. When I was in Vancouver last weekend I passed by a very appealing looking place called the Rhizome Cafe. I was particularly intrigued by the lentil soup listing on the menu, whose price was "Pay as you feel for this dish."

It's a beautiful idea, a way to feed people who can't afford a set price, and also to appeal to the better instincts of folks who can afford to pay more. Lentils are cheap, tasty and nutritious, and we should all eat a lot more of them.

Apparently it's getting them some good publicity, as well.

CSA by Sail

The Cascade Harvest Coalition blog just did a piece on a new CSA concept: sailing local produce from the Kitsap Peninsula to the Shilshole Bay Marina and then selling it directly to consumers. Their goal is to transport the food by means of engineless sailing, creating zero carbon emissions. Apparently the first shipment was a success, selling out in just a few hours.

The folks at Cascade Harvest wondered how the folks at the Ballard Farmers' Market felt about the competition. I haven't spoken to them about it directly, but it's my guess that they'd be really excited to see this new model for local food distribution getting started. This isn't the kind of scenario where there's a limited demand, and sales through one channel cut into sales somewhere else. It's more of a situation where rising awareness and rising demand is in everyone's best interests.

When I first started vending at farmers' markets there were only two weekly markets within the Seattle city limits. Now there are eleven markets each week during the summer, and both the newer and the more established markets continue to grow, in spite of the competition. The more people are turned on to this kind of food, the more they spread the word and look for as many opportunities as possible to buy local produce.

Buying in Bulk

An article in last week's PI offered tips for saving money on your grocery bill by shopping like the pros. Among other things, the author recommended purchasing in bulk. She did caution against buying more than you can eat before it rots or sprouts, but there are also other reasons why it's not always a good idea to shop in bulk.

The phrase "shopping in bulk" can mean either buying food from bulk bins, or buying in quantity so you can get a discount. Buying from the bulk bins is a great way to shop. The prices are great, you don't throw away wasteful packaging, and you can buy just as much as you need.

Buying in quantity in order to get a discount can be a good strategy for ingredients that you use regularly but it can be tricky, in fact, I often see professional chefs and entrepreneurs making foolish choices about when to buy in bulk.

Before you buy something in bulk, ask yourself how much of that item you typically use, and how long it will take you to go through the quantity you're considering. As the author of the article advised, don't buy more than you can use before it goes bad. Even items like dried beans, which we think of as having long shelf lives, can take a lot longer to cook if they've sat on the shelf for too long.

Is this an item you want to have on hand all the time? I buy a couple of chocolate bars every week and I'd certainly save money on each individual chocolate bar if I bought a case of them, but I don't want to have that much chocolate on hand because then I'd surely eat more than I should.

How much space do you have? It doesn't make sense to buy a case of something if it's going to take up so much of your storage space that you don't have room for other things you need.

Is this the best use of your money right now? If you buy that case of juice that's going to take 3 months to drink, will you still have cash on hand to pay your electric bill?

The prevailing wisdom in the grocery business is that it's best to keep less inventory on hand and turn it over as quickly as possible. Inventory is clutter, and it ties up resources that you might need for other purposes.

What I Learned From My Cooking Demonstration

I did a cooking demo this weekend at the Wellness Show in Vancouver. It went reasonably well, and I certainly learned a lot about how to do a better job in the future.

They say that the two things people fear most are death and public speaking. I wasn't exactly looking forward to this, but when the time came I was reasonably calm. I was glad to have a tangible activity--cooking--as my focus.

I demonstrated a recipe for Gold Beets with Leeks and Chives. My biggest concern was that there wouldn't be enough time to cook and peel the beets during a 40 minute presentation, so I got there early and had them mostly cooked by the time I was supposed to go onstage. I was supposed to make enough to hand out 100- 1 oz. samples, so I cooked 6 pounds of beets. That's a lot of beets to peel, so most of what I was doing during the demo was peeling and chopping beets, and talking about winter produce. In that sense it probably wasn't the best recipe choice, but the show coordinator had suggested that I do something low fat and wheat free, so I went with the beets.

I learned that, in order to do a presentation on seasonal produce in a city that's not my own, I should have researched the options that were available locally. I talked a lot about Seattle farmers' markets, but I didn't know anything about Vancouver farmers' markets, and that would have been a lot more relevant. I also should have known something about their grocery and natural foods' stores, because people were asking me where they could find gold beets, and I didn't know.

I'm not that good at doing cooking demos, but I think I could learn to be a lot better. I could even learn to enjoy myself doing it. I have a few more demos scheduled over the next few months, and it'll be good to get some practice. In the meantime, I've got some DVD's of Julia Child's older shows on the way from Netflix.

Beet Diversity

One of my favorite things about the mix of veggies I cook in the depth of winter is the spectacular color of the beets. I'm not just talking about the red ones: the gold ones are also vibrant, and the pink concentric circles in the Chiogga beets never cease to amaze me.

They all taste more or less the same, but the range of colors certainly adds visual appeal. And, unlike the red ones, the other varieties don't bleed onto everything around them.

Flow

I just watched the documentary "Flow," about water rights issues. Coincidentally, I heard on the radio this afternoon that Stephen Chu is warning that, at the current rate of global warming, there could be no more agriculture in California by the end of this century.

The film did a great job of bringing together information about the fight for water rights all over the world, from South Africa, to Bolivia, to Michigan. I also appreciated its emphasis on common sense, low tech solutions like strategies for harvesting rainwater and simple, inexpensive filtration systems.

The declining supply of fresh, clean water is similar to the degradation and corporatization of the food supply in that both issues seem huge, complex and insurmountable, yet there are important small actions we can take as individuals, like drinking tap water instead of bottled water, or choosing to eat locally. These small steps may or may not add up to bigger changes, but we'd all be in much worse shape if we didn't even try to make a difference.

My New Kitchen

I love my new kitchen. As you can see from the photo, it's still very much a work in progress, but much less so than I was anticipating. I've built two kitchens from scratch over the years, and the process has always been expensive and stressful. It was nearly miraculous this time around to find a space that has been used as a kitchen in the past. It already had the plumbling, electricity, and ventilation that I needed.

This spot is a commercially zoned property in the heart of a residential neighborhood, right near the arboretum. It was a grocery store 100 years ago and it's been used by a number of different catering companies more recently. A friend of mine worked for a company that operated out of this space nearly twenty years ago so I'd been there (though the layout was really different at that point.) But when I saw the listing on Craig's List I knew exactly what it was, and I went for it. I can't wait to start cooking there later this week.

Superbowl Sunday at the Market

Superbowl Sunday is typically one of the slowest days of the year at the Ballard Farmers' Market. (The other consistently slow day is Easter.) Yesterday was no exception. The meat vendors do okay but even for them, things completely die at about 1:30. At least it's good to know what to expect.