Just keep eating. Just keep eating. Just keep eating, eating, eating...

When Dr. Hartman, our Reconnecting with Food professor, first made the observation that fast food leaves him unsatisfied, I couldn't relate. Apparently, when munching on a burger and fries, one feels the need to keep eating one bite more but the food never really delivers its promise of quenching the craving. "Maybe this bite will be satisfying, or maybe this one," the taste buds say, but it never is.

Last Thursday, I experienced this phenomenon in action, but it wasn't with a burger and fries. It was a take-out box full of noodles, veggies, and sesame chicken. I took a bite, and then another. It was nothing spectacular, yet I kept eating. I seemed to remember having better food court Asian fusion somewhere, and I kept eating, looking for that deliciousness that I thought I remembered.

Who are the true culprits in this odd, disappointing occurrence? No formal investigation has been made at this time, but we have three top suspects: Salt, Sugar, and Fat.

"Salt, Sugar, Fat" Intro Response

After reading just the introduction to Salt, Sugar, Fat: How the Food Giants Hooked Us, I have some thoughts about who is really at fault for America's obesity problem.

We are. We, the consumers, who buy food and put it in our own mouths, are at fault. The food giants are responsible to honestly tell us what is in their products and to produce those products safely, but the consumer is responsible for deciding how much of that product to purchase and consume.

However, I am lucky enough to have been raised in a financially comfortable, moderately health-conscious, highly educated family. The real ethical question comes with acknowledging those who struggle financially. I cannot imagine how that might restrict one's food options. Are the food giants responsible for the health of the poor and uneducated, who cannot afford better or don't know any better?

In Part IV of Michael Pollan's Cooked, aesthetically but perhaps inappropriately titled "Earth," Pollan delivers an absolutely delightful mix of food, microbiology, and one accomplished nun.

With a title like "Earth," one would expect Part IV to be about potatoes or some other other tuber, but although Pollan does mention a few roots in his pickling chapters, the methods of food preparation discussed in "Earth" require being underground at all. Rather, Part IV discusses the many and varied miracles of fermentation: pickled veggies, cheese, and alcoholic beverages. This section of Cooked isn't about the earth, it's about the wonderful world of microorganisms--that's what I got out of it, anyway.

There are microorganisms everywhere: in our intestines, between our toes, in our yogurt, and they even help out in our bread, as Pollan discussed in Part III. In my day-to-day life, I usually only hear and think about the bad bits of microbiology. After all, an E. coli outbreak is a serious and newsworthy thing. It was refreshing to hear about bacteria and fungi in a not-so-harmful context.

The "Air" chapter of Cooked by Michael Pollan inspired me to complain about it to a friend. Then I sat down to read most of the chapter. As Pollan introduced me to all the intimate details of yeast, I found myself--frustratingly--enjoying the chapter. I enjoyed it because I could see myself baking bread from scratch someday, just for the fun of it, although not necessarily with a recipe as complex as the sourdough recipe Pollan used.

I prefer a denser loaf of homemade bread over this airy sourdough stuff Pollan aims for.  When I bite into my bread I want to taste food, not air with a food-like taste. A thin slice of Irish brown bread with orange marmalade or a plain slice of my mom's fruit-'n-spice recipe made with plain store-bought yeast and a bread machine...

Admittedly, the process of growing a starter is fascinating. I was first introduced to sourdough while playing at a friend's house in elementary school. Her mom called us over to take turns kneaded the dough and explained how much goes into making this type of bread--yeast starters, kneading, letting the dough rise, etc.

As a side note...look at these! The medical field is finding creative ways to encourage healthy lifestyle, particularly food choices.

http://www.npr.org/blogs/thesalt/2013/09/18/223405641/just-what-the-doctor-ordered-med-students-team-with-chefs?utm_campaign=nprfacebook&utm_source=npr&utm_medium=facebook

http://www.npr.org/blogs/thesalt/2013/09/12/221757539/no-bitter-pill-doctors-prescribe-fruits-and-veggies

 The reading and class discussion of The Omnivore's Dilemna Part 2: "Grass" has given me a few thoughts. The pastoral definitely holds sway over me. I just see a field--grazing animals or no--and I feel wistful. Or joyful. Or both. And it usually makes me want to frolic. I'm also one of those people who enjoys looking at grass and the things that inhabit it at eye level. It's safe to say that I like green space and pastoral settings.

Despite all that, I have yet to notice the draw of the pasture on packages and cartons in my limited grocery shopping experiences. Low prices are far more attractive.

The Omnivore's Dilemma (Michael Pollan, 2006) gets real disturbing around Part 1, Chapter 5: "The Processing Plant." This is how we treat our food? I had always wondered where those mysterious ingredients come from.

I had always naively hoped that xanthan gum comes from a xanthan plant (meaning a green leafy living thing, not a building). To my disappointment, Pollan lists xanthan gum as a corn product (page 116), but according to a simple Google search, xanthan gum is produced by a bacterium.  What have you heard about xanthan gum, dear reader?  Is the bacterium used to process corn product? Or did Pollan get his facts wrong?

Pollan also spoke briefly about TBHQ, which is used to preserve food and, coincidentally, can cause " 'nausea, vomiting, ringing in the ears, delirium, a sense of suffocation, and collapse' " (page 114, indirectly quoted from A Consumer's Dictionary of Food Additives).  That seems like a risky substance to be spraying onto food.

Michael Pollan would be proud if he knew:

My mother and I cooked lunch together.  It featured her homegrown peppers. 

The featured snack of the weekend was homemade granola cookies (oats, flax seed, dates, olive oil, yogurt, honey).

On Saturday morning, while strolling through the woods with my faithful canine sidekick, I harvested an appetizer.  It was a return to an old North American secret, the pawpaw (genus name "asimina").

And, yes, we even had flowers at the table.

I cannot convey the immense satisfaction of these eating experiences. To harvest one's food, cook with a loved one, and enjoy homemade meals and snacks was absolutely wonderful.

Our most recent assignment was from Michael Pollan's Cooked: "Part 1: Fire."

"Fire" made my day on Monday.  It was not because of the more interesting bits in which Pollan introduces his readers to various barbecue pit masters nor his occasional witty comment nor because of his long ruminations on the advent of cooking in human evolution.

Pollan made my day by making me appreciate--even more than usual--a barbecue sandwich from the school cafeteria.  I had been drooling over in-depth descriptions of barbecue for an hour. The whiff of pork that my nose now caught on the way to the cafeteria was like a dream. While waiting in line for the long-anticipated sandwich, I observed the mix of races in line with me and thought about what Pollan said about barbecue historically erasing social differences. Of course, there's always a mix of races in the food lines at this school.

True, I relished my barbecue alone, while sitting at a desk. (Go, ahead: scold me, Michael Pollan.) However, I opted to solely meditate on the food while eating instead of eating while reading or watching a video. 

Cooked has earned some merit in my book by interesting me enough to affect my behavior.

Last week, our course instructor gave us a challenge: Go to the grocery store and find at least three foods. Simple, right? But there was a catch--two catches, actually. (1) We may not shop around the edges of the store, which is where most of the produce, dairy, and raw meats are. (2) The food has to be real food.

 I chose to base my definition of "real food" on a few of Michael Pollan's most basic food rules in his appropriately named book, Food Rules. If it is real food...

          ...I can imagine it in its natural state. (Rules 7 and 15)
          ...it contains less than five ingredients. (Rule 6)
          ...sweetener is not one of the top three ingredients. (Rule 5)

Right off the bat, I found something. Everyone's favorite popcorn didn't let me down. Good ole Orville. Ingredients: (white corn) whole grain popping corn, (Original) Orville Redenbacher's Gourmet Popping Corn.

Next up, frozen veggies just like Mom makes them. Ingredients: corn, carrots, peas, and green beans.

While I was strolling the aisles of the nearest grocery store, a pre-recorded store advertisement came on telling customers that even though some people say it's best to shop around the edges of the store, [store name] has plenty of nutritious options on the shelves in the center of the store.  One of those nutritious options was supposedly canned meats, so I headed for the canned food aisle.  After some scrutinizing and a few mysterious mentions of "modified food starch," I found Double "Q" salmon.  Ingredients: red sockeye salmon and salt.

So it's true.  Real food can be found in big name grocery stores.

 The web is full of food-related suggestions. Today I'm adding a few of my own.

1. Never skip a meal, including breakfast. Didn't wake up until noon? Eat your third meal
    at midnight.
2. Got a headache?  Eat something.
3. Feeling shaky? Eat something.
4. Got a stomach ache?  Eat something.
5. If a little voice in the back of your mind tells you a certain food will make you feel ill, listen to it. 

Next up is a reflection (of sorts) on a little book called Food Rules by Michael Pollan.

Welcome to my blog, where I will post assignments and reflections for the class Honors 395: Reconnect with Food, in which I am a student.