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The Moo-Cow Goes to Uganda

The Holstein—the archetypal American dairy cow, whose black and white splotches are practically imprinted on the hills of Wisconsin—can now be seen in an unlikely place: the grasslands of Uganda. According to a well-told story in the New York Times Magazine, over the last decade the Holstein, pushed by USAID and the World Bank, has gradually displaced the native longhorn cattle, a breed called the Ankole.

The Ankole are perfectly adapted to their environment: They’re rugged and evolutionarily equipped to deal with almost anything. The Holstein often have to be medicated just to survive in Uganda, but they produce far more milk—20 to 30 times more. Many rural Ugandans, seeing wealth in the Holstein, have switched over to the breed. (So many, in fact, that the local market is now flooded with milk and prices have dropped.)

The story documents a frightening trend: the loss of traditional livestock breeds and therefore genetic variation. (The UN’s Food and Agriculture Organization warned recently of the potential collapse of the world’s livestock breeds, specifically noting the plight of the Ankole.) But their loss is heartbreaking for a different reason. The nomadic herding tribe of Uganda, the Bahima, have traditionally held the Ankole in extraordinarily high esteem. Before Christianity arrived, “the Bahima made offerings of milk to herdsman gods,” and many farmers have kept Ankole simply for sentimental reasons. “They are naturally good,” a farmer says in the article. “They are beautiful. In our culture we preferred these. But then we developed another culture, from Western culture.”

Say Goodbye to Lotion Mitts

Here in the test kitchen, food isn’t the only thing on our minds. Also important: lotion. We wash our hands so often that our skin becomes parched, itchy, dry, and red. Many of the lotions we’ve tried offer little protection or are so intense we feel like we’re wearing lotion mittens. While we have found a few shea butter products that are affordable and do the job, I’m currently crushing on Fresh’s Sugar Blossom Hand Treatment. Yes, it costs a lot more than I would spend on that drugstore vat of shea butter, but it’s got an addictive citrus scent, and it makes my skin feel great. Fifteen dollars is a small price to pay for the daily abuse my hands put up with.

Fresh Sugar Blossom Hand Treatment, $15 for 1 ounce

$45 Strawberries from Japan

This Valentine’s Day, New Yorkers can express their love with pricey produce. Evan Obsatz of Butterfield Market has plans to import what New York magazine’s Grub Street blog is calling “the Kobe Beef of Strawberries.”

[O]n February 12, pending Customs approval, [Obsatz will] be the only local supplier to receive 40 boxes of Amou berries — large, sweet, and juicy strawberries that are carefully cultivated on Japan’s Kyushu Island. It’s Japan’s most expensive strawberry, and it’s currently in short supply, hence a $45 price tag for a box of seven to twelve.

These expensive “Amou” berries seem to be called “Amao” berries by other food suppliers, and the Shanghai Seffy Trading Company describes them as “[s]weet, round, big, and delicious,” with a high sugar level and moderate acidity. In other words, they shouldn’t be big and flavorless, like the giant wintertime strawberries from the supermarket produce aisle. But really, rather than drop $4 per strawberry, why not wait a few months until the farmers’ markets are overflowing with tasty little red globes for a fraction of the price?

The Tuna Backlash Backlash

Those of us scared silly by the Great New York Times Tuna/Mercury Scare of 2008 can rest a little easier thanks to Jack Shafer, one of the professional skeptics employed over at Slate.

According to Shafer’s efficiently written story, a longitudinal University of Rochester study is required reading for anyone hoping to understand the effects of eating mercury-tainted fish. The study examined the (nominal) impact of mercury-laden fish on residents of the Seychelles, a group of islands in the Indian Ocean, where mothers eat an average of 12 servings of fish a week, concluding that not only is tuna probably safe to eat, it’s actually a healthy thing to do. “Go out,” the study seems to say, “and gobble up some tuna. It’s good for you! Mercury be damned!” And who do we have to thank for reporting on this study and writing a restrained and sensible look at the dangers of eating fish? Why, the New York Times. In 2003.

The money graf from Shafer’s piece:

The fish eaten in the Seychelles contains the same amount of mercury found in fish consumed in the United States. No ill effects on the children or mothers have been discovered in the ongoing study, leading the scientists to encourage fish consumption, especially ‘in societies where fish is the primary source of protein.’

Whether due to laziness or some kind of sinister tuna fish–sponsored agenda (“Eat Mor Chikin”), the most recent mercury-scare Times piece completely overlooked the Rochester study. And the study at least casts serious doubts on the danger of modern sushi joints—and may have rendered the whole story moot, if not actually malicious.

Shafer also takes a shot at the Times for running a shotgun blast of tuna scaremongering stories (an editorial, a consumer reaction piece, a column) along with the original “Tuna=death” piece … rather than a skeptical companion piece examining the evidence that maybe eating fish isn’t so bad for you after all.

Edible Rings for Commitmentphobes

Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and a couple of artsy candy stores are offering perfectly giftable jewelry that (hopefully) won’t outlast your relationship. If you’re lucky enough to be in Barcelona during the next couple of weeks, Escribà offers a collection of Candy-Glam Rings that look like blown glass and taste like lollipops. Another Barcelona candy shop, Papabubble—which also has locations in Amsterdam, Tokyo, and New York—is pushing its own brand of edible rings. Time Out New York describes these dazzling pulled-sugar treats:

Pulled, cut and rolled into a panoply of fanciful Technicolor designs—some topped with glossy rosettes or funky, striped wedges—the edible accessories are freshly spun from a host of lollipop flavors, including honeyed mango and spicy cinnamon, according to the whims of the shop’s dessert chefs. The goodie will stay fresh for several months, on the condition that your beloved can resist its sweet allure: We immediately devoured our passion fruit–cherry-and-watermelon bauble whose grown-up, intense flavors trumped a Ring Pop’s.

Unfortunately, these edible offerings don’t come cheap. The basic ring costs $20, and you’ll have to drop $55 for the rings embedded with gold leaf. Papabubble doesn’t have an online store, but if you live near one of its shops, it might be a good idea to call ahead to order for Valentine’s Day.

Not ready to invest that much time and energy into a V-Day treat? No sweat. You can still score a Ring Pop for 59¢ at Old Time Candy.

Ice, Ice Baby

There’s a cultish pastime out there that’s supercool (some might even say freezing) and very misunderstood. It’s ice-chewing, and the Wall Street Journal features an exposé of the underground ice-chewing lifestyle.

A young businessman chews so much ice his tongue goes numb and he can barely talk to clients. A middle-aged substitute teacher’s family has threatened to destroy her ice-shaving machine because of its “frequent high-pitched whir.” There’s even a website dedicated to ice-chewing, complete with recipes (!) and testimonials.

Could their chewing be a symptom of a mineral deficiency? Whether anemic or just plain addicted, ice-chewers are nearly unanimous in their choice of a favorite fast-food place. Sonic, which boasts ice made up of a blizzard of tantalizingly chewable nuggets, now even sells bags of its ice to go.

Bye-Bye, Shumai

Families in Japan may be rethinking their shumai and gyoza habits after 10 people became ill this week from eating dumplings imported from China; one child even fell into a coma. Tests all showed traces of methamidophos, an insecticide, in the dumplings. It’s not clear if the contamination took place in China or Japan, but I’d put money on who is going to get blamed for this one.

The import company has recalled 12 tonnes of dumplings (metric tonnes or not, let’s just say that’s a lot of dumplings) as well as 22 other products supplied by the same Chinese company.

Pet food, toys, toothpaste, now dumplings. Things are not looking good for China, despite high-profile safety campaigns to reassure consumers.

My Cupcake Hero

Last week our devilish intern Adela decided to stop by Miette Pâtisserie on one of her frequent stops at the Ferry Building in San Francisco. She returned to the test kitchen with cupcakes and a brownie, all of which looked delicious, but it was a particular gingerbread cupcake that caught my attention. It was perfectly sweetened, with an edge of bitterness from stout beer and ginger, and balanced by the most deliciously tangy cream cheese frosting I’ve ever had. I’m pretty sure I used the descriptor phenomenal several times. Folks who live outside the Bay Area can call to place a mail order for Miette’s gingerbread cake—same ingredients, just bigger. Writing about it now makes me want to run over there and get another one. Thanks, Adela, for introducing me to one more sugary, fatty food I cannot live without.

Miette Gingerbread Cake, $3 for a cupcake, $22 for a 7-inch cake

Gott Sauvignon Blanc?

A few entries back I described a conversation with winemaker Joel Gott, and I mentioned that I’d follow up with some notes about his Sauvignon Blanc. The idea was that I’d go through the wine facts with him, and get him to comment. It was a shorter talk than the one about his Zinfandel, but interesting nonetheless. The wine facts look like this:

Grapes: 100 percent Sauvignon Blanc
Appellation: Monterey County, Lake County, and Napa Valley
Harvest Dates: September 10, 18, and October 13
Harvest Brix: 22.1–24.0
Fermentation: 100 percent stainless steel fermentation
Alcohol: 13.6 percent
Release Date: March 15, 2007
Suggested Retail Price: $11

The fact that he’s using 100 percent Sauvignon Blanc didn’t prompt much discussion, but the appellations did—and the implied blending of fruit from different areas. This sort of thing is central to what Gott does: Rather than playing the estate-bottling game, he trades that cachet for the freedom to source grapes from all over the place and to make the best wines he can at a reasonable price. This means there’s less on the label signifying quality—fewer of the usual indicators, I mean, pointing to small properties and single vineyards and the like—and a requirement that a consumer just trust the guy. (As more than a few do.)

“The Monterey stuff,” Gott told me, “well, we got these awesome growers down there, and that’s our New Zealand or Southern Hemisphere component, grassy and tropical. Lake County is all about the mineral quality out of that red volcanic soil. It’s a little harder style, so it’s a good balancing act for the Monterey stuff, and in Russian River Valley, it’s more of that coastal component, a lot of fruit and midpalate stuff. It’s warmer than Monterey over there, but it’s not as hot as Lake County. So I guess you could think about it this way: We’re getting aromatics from the Monterey stuff, the mouthfeel from the Russian River, and that top level out of Lake County.”

And why the different harvest dates? The answer to this one wasn’t complicated: Grapes in different regions ripen at different moments. Gott can’t have grapes sitting around, though, waiting for the rest of the fruit to ripen, so he told me they make the Monterey component right there in King City, south of San Jose, and then truck it up later. The rest of the wine, the Lake County and Russian River stuff, they truck right over to St. Helena for pressing and fermentation.

And why the range in Brix (a.k.a. the sugar content of the grapes at the time they’re picked)?

“The range in Brix just shows the difference in the growing areas.”

What I enjoy about these conversations is only partly the factual data they offer—which, admittedly, isn’t a ton in this case. The other part, the larger part, is the chance to hear how winemakers talk about these things, to hear what it means to them and therefore what it might mean to us. I enjoy also the craftsmanship element—not in some mystical artisanal sense, but in a more practical sense. These guys practice a trade, and they don’t talk about it like it’s a big mystery. They talk about it like a job.

And while we’re at it, by the way, I want to mention that it’s a good job: Gott’s Sauvignon Blanc is a great value at $11, crisp and clean, and well balanced and food-friendly, as I learned when I paired it with a salad of radicchio, Asian pear, and Truffle Tremor goat cheese. But of course, that was the same night my friend Amy broke her arm during the main course and stuck around through dessert, so the wines got a little overshadowed by all the drama.

The Golden Arches: A Golden Opportunity?

BBC journalist John Hand has written one of those rare first-person pieces in which a meaningful idea is actually communicated through a series of biographical anecdotes. Hand’s point is a simple one: Working at a fast-food place like McDonald’s can have many positive effects on one’s attitude and CV.

It sounds corny, and it most assuredly is, to some extent. But it also makes an interesting point for those of us inhabiting an era wherein service work is automatically associated with laziness or some kind of personal shortcoming.

About his time at McDonald’s, Hand writes:

It is notable that those who have positive things to say about the McDonald’s working experience are those who threw themselves into it, without any cynicism. That means caring deeply about the company’s four central tenets — quality, service, cleanliness and value.

I understood the sound business principles behind asking ‘Is that a large?’ or ‘Do you want fries with that?’, so didn’t feel at all self-conscious about chanting the then-obligatory mantras at every customer.

I’ve since learned I was in good company. Andrew H Card, otherwise known as President Bush’s chief of staff between 2001 and 2006, has spoken glowingly of his time at the Golden Arches.

The piece is a little sappy, incredibly square, and a throwback to the pre–Information Age era when people actually, you know, did stuff. As a result, it’s a charming read. The piece also struck a chord with readers, generating a slew of comments.

Most, like this one, trended positive:

When I worked in recruitment, I hired a lot of 18-22 year olds. The difference in the ones who’d worked in McDonald’s was striking. They were keen, polite, enthusiastic, customer-focussed and wanted to learn. I wouldn’t fancy it myself — or any kitchen job, to be honest — but it clearly gives a good grounding.

But it wouldn’t be the Internet without a little bit of this, too:

None of the above ‘lessons’ make McDonalds special. You can get all of that from any honest work. Often without having to peddle greasy rubbish. Personally, I only enter their premesis [sic] to use the loo.

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