Traditional Table Tuesday: Why Food Matters

On holy milk

From virgin nurse the Boy God feeds;
This miracle all else exceeds.
The One to whom all owe their lives
On food from someone else survives.
O peerless wonder! See him thrive
On fleshly food who keeps alive

the flesh.

(From a poem featured in the Magnificat on January 1, celebrating Mary the Mother of God.)

Over the past months, and years, really, I have been trying to get to the root of why food is not incidental to those who live a life of faith. Food isn’t just a neutral factor in our lives, something just to be consumed without thought, a topic that hovers on the margins of the life of faith but never really enters in. Why? So many reasons come to mind. I’ll just get started with one. The One to whom all owe their lives/ On food from someone else survives. These simple lines reveal two simple truths:

1) Christ ate.
He who shares all in common with us (except for sin, of course) ate, and in so doing, he incorporated the act of eating into the eternal Trinity. Kind of blows you away, doesn’t? God not only made the world, but entered into it, and entered into it all the way, made it a part of himself in the most basic way possible.

2) Food comes from.
Even the completely self-sufficient farmer (and perhaps the self-sufficient farmer is more greatly aware of this) exists in a relationship of reception. For him, food comes from the earth, from his animals, from the good graces of a Creator who has set the world up to be responsive to his labor. For most of the rest of us non-farmer types, food “comes from” in an even more radical way. Food comes from the farmer, from the field laborer, from the trucker, from the butcher, from the supermarket shelf-stocker, and finally, from whomever it is who prepares it for us. What does all this mean? It means that food comes from someone. Thus, food establishes relationships. This basic fact is beautifully illustrated by the infant who must be fed; the entire survival of the infant is completely dependent upon being in relationship with someone who will feed, someone from whom food will come.

These days it is easy to forget that food comes from. We could potentially enter a supermarket, purchase some shrink-wrapped, pre-made frozen food, swipe through a self-checkout aisle, and breeze out of the store, without a word to another human being. No one to thank, no one to even acknowledge.

Looking at these two points together, we see that in eating, Christ entered into relationships. The first and most basic we see in the poem–nursing put him in relationship with his mother Mary (and through her, with all of created humanity). We can only guess at the web of relationships that the Holy Family entered into in order to obtain their food, but I would guess that they were probably not self-sufficient farmers if Joseph and Jesus worked as carpenters. They probably raised part of their own food and traded for part of it. In any case, I doubt that Christ or the Holy Family entered into exploitative relationships in order to obtain the food they ate. Granted, it was a very different time in history, but I am certain there were those who were exploited by the commercial system of the day. All this has convinced me that I need to think hard about the relationships that are established by the food that my family purchases. Am I doing my best to make sure that I am not exploiting others just to get a lot of something cheap, when I could pay more or go to some small amount of trouble to be more respectful of those who are bringing my food to me?

I know there is so much suffering that is invisible to me, suffering that I take for granted on a daily basis, but the suffering of agricultural workers is something that will probably always be present to me. I was blessed by the opportunity to meet and work with a handful of the Mexican migrant workers who pick the apples for our Virginia applesauce and the grapes for our classy Virginia wines. I see their faces when I pay more for the organic produce I purchase, when I chose to get our summer produce from Amish family farms by joining a summer CSA. Most vividly, I see Lupita’s face–she was young, she was my best student, and she and her husband worked in a vineyard. They had constant rashes from the sprays that irritated their arms as they picked the grapes, and although they wished for children, were having a lot of trouble conceiving and wondered why. Although I will never know for sure, I often wondered if the level of chemicals Lupita was exposed to had something to do with their fertility issues.

Our “traditional table” has a lot more to it than just the conventional/organic issue, and certainly, there are nutritional and health benefits to organic foods as well, but honestly, for me, those have always been the icing on the cake, as it were. To me, it is more about the people, more about the social and commercial structures that I am supporting with my food dollar, although it’s nice to know that there’s less toxic chemicals building up in my family’s bodies as well.

New for 2010: Traditional Table Tuesday

Everyone who approaches eating with a high degree of intentionality seems to like to label themselves– perhaps because the way they eat is not just about scanning a finger down a menu and choosing one thing rather than another, but it can become a whole way of life. I’m thinking here of vegetarians, vegans, raw foodies, etc. Over the past five years that we’ve been married, my husband and I have been on a gradual path towards becoming quite intentional about what we eat, but we don’t fall into any of those categories. We’ve been drawn, for a variety of reasons, towards becoming “traditional” eaters.

Traditional eating, for our Catholic family, means that we try to:

• eat foods that have fed and nourished humanity for thousands of years.*
• purchase food that is local; grown in a sustainable and traditional manner
• prepare said food in a traditional way–maximizing not only its nutritive value but our understanding of meals as the gift and fruit of labor
• ponder in ever-greater depth what it means to eat if our God has become Incarnate; if he asks us to take and eat of His very self.
  

On Tuesdays I will chronicle our adventures in becoming traditional eaters. I'll try to add a suggested booklist and some recipes too, eventually.

*The fascinating findings of Dr. Weston A. Price, a dentist who travelled all over the world and observed the eating habits of populations that had been isolated from industrial civilization are well-chronicled elsewhere. The short version is this: he observed diverse populations– from the Inuit in Alaska to isolated mountain-dwelling Swiss villagers to Afrikan tribes– and found that their health, not only dental but all-around, was excellent. He compared these isolated peoples to members of the same racial/cultural groups who had begun to eat the foods of industry– white flour, white sugar, white rice, concentrated fruit juices, among many things–and saw the industrial eaters suffering from a great many more health problems as well as physical and mental debilities. Although we have joined the Weston A. Price Foundation– a group that encourages traditional eating and publishes an interesting a quarterly journal on the subject– I must make a caveat here that I do not wholeheartedly endorse everything this group says and does, for reasons I am feeling out slowly and will discuss here as time goes on.

My Sprouting Debut

One of my recent resolutions has been to incorporate more traditional, varied, and nutritious foods in our family's diet. Sprouts, anyone? :) Apparently germinating seeds, nuts, and grains turns them into nutritional powerhouses, and it's pretty exciting for a two-year-old too!

We chose lentils as our first sprouting experiment. It was actually pretty simple. (Gabriel saw the red ones in the Whole Foods bulk bins and asked if we could try them, hence the red and green combo.) Here's a quick story about how it went. If you want more in-depth info, check out Sproutpeople, the folks we got our sprouting lids from.

First, we obtained our equipment: mason jars for about $1.25 at Michael's and the lids from the abovementioned site.

Next, the lentils were soaked overnight to jump-start them out of their dormancy.





Second, I rinsed long and well, especially those red guys. They were very starchy and the starch inhibits the sprouting.














Then I drained, long and well. (8-12 hours). I repeated rinsing and draining until the sprouts were about 2.5 days old. The most important thing was to make sure there was enough air circulating in the jars, I think so they didn't get moldy or suffocate.








By about day 2.5, this is how the green lentils looked. Exciting, no? Raw they tasted a bit like an uncooked bean sprout. As well they should, because lentils are beans. :)

Finally, I steamed a mixture of the red and green lentils to use in the recipe below, an invention of my own.


Sprouted Lentil Salad
2 cups sprouted lentils (or other beans)
1 red pepper
1/2 Vidalia onion
1/2 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
Homemade red wine vinaigrette (to your own
taste)
Toss everything together, and serve on top of greens, if desired. I think I actually prefer it on its own, though. And yes, for those of you who are wondering, Gabriel did eat it. And he even said "yum". Although that might have had something to do with the fact that he got to pour his own dressing on top of the two tablespoons of sprout salad he had, and he poured about a tablespoon of dressing on. Not sure he could taste anything through the vinegar, but at least he ate it!

Ode to vegetables (and a veggie cookbook too)

We’re not vegetarians, but a quick glance on our shelf or in our fridge and you might think that we are. In the past year and a half, Michael and I have come to the conclusion that meat should be a “sometimes” food for our family, which means that vegetables, grains, and legumes take an honored place in our pantry! We usually only buy and prepare some type of poultry, fish, pork or beef/buffalo dish about once a week, and we decided to take this low-meat approach for a variety of reasons:

*Simplicity: An interesting fact: the monastic Rule of St. Benedict calls for a vegetarian diet unless otherwise dictated for health reasons. Ever heard of those cookbooks “From a Monastery Kitchen”? They’re all vegetarian.

*Solidarity: There are so many in the world who either aren’t able to afford to eat meat. There are also those who usually eat only simple vegetarian food and live quite healthy lives. We try to think of them as we plan our weekly meals.

*Ecological justice: The practice of raising grain-fed, factory-farmed animals for consumption in our country results in huge quantities of (apparently) cheap meat and poultry that meet the “average American” demand for everyday meals with generous portions of meat or poultry. Much has been written about this elsewhere, so I will simply note that the low cost of purchasing such meat doesn’t accurately represent the high environmental and social cost of producing it. We find it much more in keeping with our call to be stewards of the gifts of creation to spend our resources to support farms that raise grass-fed meats and poultry. Local farms like Cibola, Mt Vernon Farm, or Polyface Farms, make appearances at roadside stands and farmer’s markets. Even though this entails a sacrificial expenditure of more money than we would otherwise spend for meat, we decided that it is ap appropriate use of our resources, especially because we purchase meat so infrequently.

*Health: The challenge of creating vegetarian meals requires a bit of creativity and forethought, but it’s worth the effort because it encourages us to eat larger portions of vegetables and legumes thanks to their starring role as the “main dish”. We definitely aren’t vegans, though –we eat a good deal of eggs, cheese, yoghurt, and milk, both to boost our protein intake, and because they’re just so darn good! :)

Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone has been my companion in the kitchen in this adventure of mainly-vegetarian cooking. It is by far my favorite cookbook on the shelf, the one I turn to for everything from broccoli to baking. Her recipes are simple yet interesting enough to provide a good variety, healthy but not annoyingly “low-fat” (they don’t call for reduced-fat cheese or egg substitutes, for example), and well-proportioned (I don’t have to adjust the salt/seasoning/oil amounts as I do with many other recipes). Because we cook from scratch almost all of our meals, we do have a relatively well-stocked pantry, but even considering this I think it is a great compliment to her cookbook to say that rarely do I have to make special trips to the grocery store for ingredients that I will only use once. She also makes suggestions for seasonal eating, which we try to do as much as possible by preparing what we can buy at the market or grow in our garden, now that it is flourishing thanks to Michael’s hard work.

No, I am not on a secret mission from Deborah to get all of my blog readers to run out and purchase her cookbook, although I did email her to thank her for her great work on this cookbook. I just wanted to share because I think the key to great vegetarian cooking is often getting an inspiration and a jump-start from some excellent cookbooks, and I have used quite a few vegetarian cookbooks that have recipes that are much too complicated to use on an everyday basis, and made me think that cooking mainly vegetarian meals would be too difficult. I now know better, thanks to VCFE!

Here’s one of my favorite "main dish" recipes from the book, although I must admit it is hard to choose just one.

Green Lentils with Wine-Glazed Vegetables, Spinach,
and Garlic-Rubbed Croutons
Serves 4-6

1 ½ cups green lentils, sorted and rinsed
Salt and freshly milled pepper
1 bay leaf
2 tsp olive oil
1 onion, cut into ½ inch dice
1 large carrot, cut into 1/4 inch dice
1 celery rib, cut into 1/4 inch dice
1 garlic clove, mashed or put through a press
1 T. tomato paste
2/3 cup dry red wine
2 tsp Dijon mustard
2 T. butter or extra virgin olive oil
2 tsp chopped parsley or tarragon

Put the lentils in a saucepan with 3 cups water, 1 tsp salt, and the bay leaf. Bring to a boul, then lower the heat to a lively simmer and cook until the lentils are tender but still hold a little texture, about 25 minutes.

Meanwhile, heat the oil in a medium skillet. Add the onion, carrot, and celery, season with ½ teaspoon salt, and cook over medium-high heat, stirring frequently, until the vegetables are browned, about 10 minutes. Add the garlic and tomato paste, cook for 1 minute more, and then add the wine. Bring to a boil and then lower the heat and simmer, covered, until the liquid is syrupy and the vegetables are tender, about 10 minutes. Stir in the mustard and add the cooked lentils along with their broth. Simmer until the sauce is mostly reduced, then stir in the butter and season with pepper.

Just before serving, steam or saute a large bunch of spinach. Pile the lentils into a flat serving dish, surround them with the greens, or stir the greens into them, and serve with thin Garlic Rubbed Croutons (slice baguette/other bread 1/4 inch thick, brush with olive oil or butter, place on baking pan and bake at 375 until crisp and golden, and rub with halved clove of garlic when they emerge from oven)

Buen provecho!