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ASLE 2013 – and I’d never been to Kansas

Bricks, Lawrence KSI arrived on the heels of a big thunderstorm that flooded basements and washed the place clean before disappearing off to neighbouring states. The air is still heavy with heat and humidity, and more storms are forecast but so far we’ve been lucky.

I flew into Kansas City, MO, which is across the Kansas River from Kansas City, KS, more or less. The Missouri River is also involved in ways I have yet to become clear on. Anyway I left that puzzle behind me and was whisked off to Lawrence, about 40 miles west, where Kansas University is hosting the tenth biennial ASLE conference, whose theme is Changing Nature: Migrations, Energies, Limits.

I spent Tuesday walking around the neighbourhood I’m staying in, which borders the university, and where there is, happily, no shortage of gardens to gawp at.

 

 

 

 

 

A bit of wildlife too. Funny to see the rabbits, not as pretty or numerous as the ones that entertained ASLE 2009. I throw in a gratuitous cat picture because I don’t have cats in my suitcases as often as I used to. And a Jaybird for the sports fans.

 

 

 

 

 

Pretty campus, on top of a steep hill which gets steeper during the hottest time of the day. And it has been warm. Not inside where the air conditioning is: there, it’s been very chilly. Never occurred to me to bring winter clothing for the meetings…

 

 

 

 

 

And finally, a couple more gardens. I suspect that exams and graduations got the better of the campus garden which does have some lettuce struggling for life against the weeds. But most gardens here suffer the effects of short growing seasons, which are short and powerful: hot sunny weather and lots of rain mean it’s hard to exert much control over what grows where once it starts. The school garden at right seems to be well in someone’s hands though, with the broccoli nearly ready. And that’s where I’ll leave it – more about the conference itself another time.

 

Food & mood, sleep & diabetes

Having kicked off my conference by hearing from the magnificent Sandor Katz, I wondered how the rest would compare. My second session, Depression & Anxiety Epidemic: How, why & what works better than anti-depressant drugs, though interesting, was a little disappointing. Julia Ross MD (author of The Mood Cure) had clearly spent some of her thunder in the first of her three-part appearance (while I was hearing Katz) and so left unexplained in this session some of the technical aspects of her talk that she’d covered earlier.

However, she gave some good causal information: that people have a 51% greater chance of mood disorder if they eat the Standard American Diet. The top three causes of mood disorder problems are the dietary changes since the seventies (when refined foods replaced home cooking, cereal product and sugar consumption increased, and refined industrial vegetable oils replaced animal fat); the increased addictiveness of refined sugars; and low calorie dieting, where the brain chemistry needed to support mood (and much else) is literally starved out.

She sketched out the diet needed for proper brain function, and explained a useful fact about the WAPF dietary principles’ obsession with pastured meat (grass-fed and finished beef, for example), which is that corn-fed protein is deficient in tryptophan, the amino acid without which serotonin – the body’s chief mood regulator – cannot be produced or function. There was much else, including a discussion of how caffeine, aspartame and ritalin block the effects of the body’s natural relaxants, keeping it in a perpetual state of stimulation, which of course doesn’t allow the brain to rest and recharge. She observed that most people on SSRI (antidepressants) really need them, but may be unaware of the side effects or addictive qualities, or the non-pharmaceutical alternatives (she provides amino acid therapies to her patients).

After a break, she moved on to discussing Insomnia. She observed we’ve been sleeping so badly for so long, we don’t know what good sleep is, so she defined it for us:

  • 8-10 hours in the dark, with no awakening
  • dream recall in the morning
  • regular breathing (no apnea)
  • waking up rested

Insomnia is rampant in Western culture – she said that a third of teenagers report having it – and is costing us in many ways: it correlates with food cravings (increasing them by 30%), insulin resistance/diabetes, depression/anxiety, ADHD, fatigue and injury. There is also a fourfold increased risk of mortality with the use of sleep medications. So it’s a good idea to solve this without. The first step is to identify the type of insomnia (night owl who enjoys staying up late; can’t get to sleep/don’t enjoy it; light sleeper waking several times through the night; or some combination of these; apnea sufferer; person in chronic pain; restless leg; short sleeper needing only around 5 hours a night; or caffeinated or medicated – ADHD – manic type). Each one corresponds to a different neurotransmitter or amino acid treatment (details in her Mood Cure book, I imagine).

After a hearty supper we were off again, and I chose Treating Diabetes with Dr Deborah Gordon as my post-prandial entertainment. It was excellent. She had much to say on the subject (more info on her website) but the (by now) usual advice applied: no sugar or refined carbohydrates; lots of high quality protein; and the inclusion of dietary fat. She cited a study that was done of 311 women following the Atkins (high protein, low carb), LEARN (low fat, high carb) and Ornish (low fat, plant-based) diets which showed that the Atkins diet was the most successful: it’s very similar to both the Paleo and Weston  A Price eating plans. She also recommended lifestyle choices including avoiding environmental toxins (pesticides, cleaning products), reducing stress, getting enough sleep, avoiding iron supplements (shown to contribute to diabetes), and doing strength training such as the HIIE exercise plans, like Tabata Training.

Food for thought

Santa Clara Topiary

The older I get the more I experience the Whoosh factor: one minute I’m staring at West Coast rain, and the next it’s a sunny morning in Silicon Valley, and I’m part of a 1,700-strong hive of health at the Santa Clara Conference Center. We’re buzzing round stands promoting magnetic beds, fermented cod liver oil, natural cosmetics, books on healthy stomach acid and fermentation and nutritional cures for mood disorders. There’s a seafood stand doing a brisk trade in Alaskan salmon roe, a couple of guys selling crispy nuts – raw almonds which have been soaked and dried according to principles laid down by Sally Fallon Morrell, our queen bee if ever there was – and someone offering tastes of a new product made with ratfish oil.

Soon my hands are warmed by my cup of beef broth and I’m balancing a bowl of full fat sheep’s milk yogurt with frozen blueberries. I have some organic fruit and cheese in my pocket for later and am considering how I can manage to juggle a couple of boiled eggs before grabbing a bottle of raw milk to wash it all down. In my bag I have a small jar of coconut oil, some pecan nut butter and a small package of granola made from pre-soaked grains and coconut.

Such was the sweet beginning to my first Weston A Price Foundation conference. Those breakfast items were purchased for Moolah, tickets sold in support of the Farm-to-Consumer Legal Defense Fund, which exists to help those persecuted by the FDA for living the WAPF dream of eating nutrient-dense foods, including raw milk.

And eat we did over those three days. If I saw one person raising a piece of sourdough wholemeal rye topped with half an inch of butter to their lips, I saw a hundred, at every meal. The lunch and supper buffets were groaning with pastured meats, whole fat cheese and sour cream, fresh green salads, liver sausage and fermented foods of all descriptions. We had sauerkraut pretty much every meal, plus kimchi, fermented apple butter, lightly pickled beets and kombucha. (In keeping with the foundation’s food principles, there were no refined carbohydrates or sugar or caffeine.) Several times the meal lines stalled while the kitchen scrambled to keep up with demand. At every table there was a shaker of Celtic sea salt with which we could lavish minerals as well as flavour onto our food. More than one mealtime conversation embellished the theme of “how great is it to be able to trust conference food?” And it was good.

And given all that food, what was really unusual here was the size of the participants. There was another event going on at the same time in the centre, a spirituality conference: the participants there were strikingly like most large gatherings of Americans that I’ve been to: a good proportion were morbidly obese, most were at least chunky. The Weston A Price people were proportioned more like Canadians or Europeans: not many would have been described as heavy, very few obese, and most were either slender or fit. And this wasn’t because they were all in the first flush of youth: middle age was the norm. Living proof that fat doesn’t make you fat.

I’ll follow this entry up with more about the talks I attended that left my brain buzzing even while my body hummed with contentment.

Brewing change – Sandor Katz

The Iambic Cafe has been in a process of change in recent weeks, and is now emerging in a slightly altered state, as my interest in food tracks itself inward through the body. I’m studying how food can heal, nourish and sustain us, and so I find myself today in Santa Clara California at the annual Weston A Price Foundation Conference. I’m here with some 1,699 others who think food is the answer to many of the ills that we have brought upon ourselves through industrial agriculture, monocropping, pesticide and biotech damage to soil, crops and consumers; environmental contamination; the consumption of industrial foods; and destructive public health policies that have led to dangerous practices such as low fat diets and overmedication.

I have this weekend achieved a long cherished dream to hear Sandor Katz speak. We met briefly on the floor (literally) of the marketplace at Terra Madre 2008, when he was gathering his blanket with a bemused look on his face, having just sold his last copy of Wild Fermentation. He has published two books since then, and the latest, The Art of Fermentation, is a tome of near biblical proportions which reflects his expanded understanding of all things fermented, and offers extensive footnotes and references. If you’re looking for a cookbook, this is not that. Instead it gives a cultural context plus detailed guidelines for the ingredients and steps involved in fermenting many different foods, in accordance with Katz’s view that fermentation is not a precision activity but a wider cultural movement. Fermentation, he believes, gives us control over our food by allowing us to regain the skills of traditional forms of preservation.. which just happen to offer massive benefits to our gut bacteria as well.

Think you don’t like fermented foods? he asked us. Think again: about a third of what we consume even in a Western Diet involves a degree of fermentation. Coffee, cheese, chocolate, yogurt, bread and vinegar all involve this process of microbial transformation.

Our history of guiding the transformation began with wine, and the edible repertoire expanded as humans took careful note of the natural processes of rot. For really, says Katz, fermentation spans a fine line between rot and delicacy: one culture’s compost is another’s survival food. Rotting fish, whale, seal or walrus until it has the texture of cheese was the far north’s traditional means of making vitamins and minerals bioavailable. (It was also a concept the Franklin expedition failed to embrace, to their cost: cooking their food killed the nutrients and contributed to the crew’s starvation.)

Fermentation was not a human invention, but a discovery: our most observant ancestors noticed that insects and animals were attracted to fermenting fruits; the inventive ones simply took that a step further to cause fermentation to happen on their own terms, and then we had wine and mead.

Agricultural societies adopted fermentation as one form of preservation because we simply couldn’t invest all our energy in crops that are seasonally available without some way to keep them stable and edible beyond harvest. Fresh milk is a 20th century phenomenon: most people in this culture have a “fermentation slowing device” in their homes, otherwise known as a fridge. The obsession with safe storage temperatures is a modern concept, because until refrigeration, we never had a way to store foods below 40f.

Nowadays, fermentation is a way to renew our acquaintance with the healthy gut bacteria we’ve been abusing through years of antibiotic use and poor diets. We need bacteria to digest our food and to sustain a healthy immune system and balanced mental functions. The war on bacteria has proven a very misguided campaign when so many of our internal bodily functions have been enabled or enhanced by the presence of bacteria. While the first triumphs of microbiology had to do with the discovery of pathogenic bacteria, we have ever since been having trouble letting go of idea that all bacteria are pathogenic.

Before opening the floor to questions, Katz held up one pre-emptive hand for a question he knew would otherwise be asked: Safety. From his research, the USDA has never reported a single case of food poisoning from fermented vegetables. Given our recent experience with tainted spinach and cantaloupe, it may be that fermented produces is even safer than raw. The basic reason is that fermented foods are populated with lactic acid bacteria which will overwhelm pathogens. The notorious anaerobic bacterium botulism (clostridium botulinum) can only grow in the complete absence of oxygen (such as in canned foods, sausages), but vegetables are never fermented anaerobically, always with oxygen circulating above and in a liquid which contains some oxygen. In minced meat products (such as sausages) nitrates are what prevent botulism from forming and he doesn’t recommend eating sausages unless they contain nitrates.

After which followed a good hour’s worth of intelligent questioning by people who had attempted fermentation themselves or wondered about the effects and benefits of varieties of these. After that, Katz spent a further couple of hours patiently signing books and answering still more questions. And yes, I got mine, and damn the weight of my poor suitcase!

For those unable to be here but within easy reach of Vancouver, check Katz’s website to learn about his upcoming January visit to UBC.

ALECC 2012 – Space + Memory = Place (days 4&5)

Saturday morning we repaired (by schoolbus) to the beautiful spaces at Okanagan College, where the luckiest presenters spoke in the curvy pod at the top of the stairs, but really everything was lovely there, including a fine breakfast of fresh muffins (featuring Okanagan apricots) and lots of fruit.

Okanagan College PodBreakfast fruitFruit+muffin

 

 

 

 

 

The best overall session of the conference for me was one called Looking Away, Looking In, Looking Under: Perspectives on the Okanagan on Saturday morning, which featured a lively talk by Kelowna’s own George Grinnell on Patrick Lane’s novel Red Dog, Red Dog which is set in the Okanagan; followed by an entertaining if depressing look at development by another local speaker, Daniel Keyes (White + Green Space Invader: The Rhetoric of Development in the Okanagan) – check out the toe-curling promotional video. Poet, blogger and essayist Harold Rhenisch finished things off with Caraway & Pippins, a luscious essay that circled around the Newtown Apple (each “a tiny earth, a green planet”) as an emblem of the cultural and agrarian changes wrought by commerce and industrialization on the Okanagan.

The Saturday junket to the farmers market was a brilliant idea, but much too short a visit. No sooner had I downed my black bean-chickpea quesadilla than I was sprinting up and down the aisles, power-shopping for produce – a giant fennel bulb, a jar of local salsa, a box of sweet yellow cherry tomatoes – the latter from Curtis Stone, who had mentored another SPIN farmer at the market, Janice Elliott – and trying to find an organic peach grower.

Kelowna Farmers MarketKelownaFarmersMarketKelowna Farmers Market

 

 

 

 

I had come to the Okanagan with a mission: organic peaches were on my mind. As you may know, dear reader, peaches are right near the top of the Dirty Dozen, a couple of fruits below apples, and so one of the best places to put your money when buying organic produce. I’d been warned that I might have to make a side trip to Cawston or Keremeos to find organic growers, as most of the Okanagan fruit in the Kelowna area is chemically produced. At the 11th hour (12:58 in fact, since the stallholders start packing up at 1pm) I was pointed to the Fruit Guy, Michael Welsh, who grows without pesticides and sold me a 20lb case of beauties (he also writes very fine poetry, according to Nancy Holmes, but I didn’t know that at the time.) The catch was I had to drag it back on the bus and get it back to our residence so I could pack it into the car for the morrow’s trip back to Victoria.

Mission accomplished, fruit in hand, grateful to be back in the cool of the building, I settled into an easy chair in the pod for the last Saturday session, Unmemoried Heights? Thinking In/With the Rockies, starring Gyorgyi Voros who took us on an excellent adventure: Wallace Stevens‘ hunting trip to BC; Tempest Emery who talked about landscape and memory in Sid Marty‘s work; and Benedict Fullalove who invoked a host of odd characters, from Rupert Brooke to Viscount Milton & WB Cheadle and Howard O’Hagan before the clock ran out on his Unmemoried Heights: Historicizing the Rockies.

Sunday morning began with probably the best yoga session I’ve ever attended, at 7am on a sunny, dewy lawn overlooking the valley. After that, temperatures already starting to climb, came a blur of packing and vacating and hanging about waiting for the most welcome coffee, fruit and pastries which arrived mid-session: our saintly panel chair released us to seek refreshment mid-panel, while being entertained on the subject of Generation A by Richard Pickard, Cate Sandilands and Jenny Kerber.

I had to depart after that session in order to get to the ferry with reasonable confidence of getting home before midnight; the traffic was horrendous, stop and go for an hour or two on the baking highway beyonFerry, sunsetd Hope, until I got nearer Tsawwassen and those welcome sea breezes. Ironically, given the last session of the conference, the saddest news awaiting me when I returned to my garden later that night was the death of my bumblebee colony. My local entomologist can’t be sure what the cause was, just disease of some kind he thinks.

ALECC 2012 – Space + Memory = Place (day 3)

Digging the City on the ALECC book tableWe began our Friday in a state of suspended animation, awaiting the arrival of various participants and speakers who were caught in a spectacular traffic snarl caused by a 3am accident that took down power lines in central Kelowna and led to the complete closure of the city’s main artery, highway 97, in both directions.

For my part I was grateful and delighted both to see my beautiful new book on the book table, my first glimpse of it, and to have a chance to hear Andrew Nikiforuk – who by some miracle had arrived on time – give what must be a well travelled talk by now, on the impact of the bark beetle on the forests of Canada and many other parts of North America – extending in fact from Alaska to Belize. I’d read about these beetles in The Insatiable Bark Beetle, an informative and particularly charmingly designed fellow filly in my publisher’s Manifesto stable. Nikiforuk’s book, Empire of the Beetle, has the space to go into much more detail about the pros – there are some – and cons of the beetles that are literally changing the face of our planet.

As Nikiforuk pointed, out, beetles make up one third of all animal life on the planet; there Andrew Nikiforukare over 7,000 species of bark beetles alone. No other living creature can change landscape as quickly as we can except for bark beetles. But they have a crucial environmental role to play in managing the forest, by removing old, sick or drought-stressed trees in order to encourage regrowth. Humans have messed with that role by imposing monoculture on our forests and by interfering with the role that forest fires also play in forest revitalization, not to mention altering the climate so that winters are no longer cold enough to slow the beetles down. In an old tale about man against nature, not to mention man in pursuit of financial profit, humans have tried to destroy the beetles using a range of futile weapons, from poisons (injecting arsenic into the trees), to clearcutting, to explosives and even electrocution. The bark beetles have not only survived every human attempt to eradicate them but adapted to changing conditions of habitat and thwarted all the predictions of scientists, travelling over mountains and switching from lodgepole to jackpine as circumstances required.

Dying trees in KelownaNikiforuk concluded with some sobering insights. We have taken out all the redundancy in our global forest, and made it highly vulnerable. We have imposed a false stability on the landscape through our use of hydrocarbons. With the effects already occurring to our landscape due to climate change, forests are rapidly changing, and we may be left with grasslands where forests can no longer grow.

As these changes progress, we need to reconnect with the natural world in a way we have  not been connected for at least 100 years. In Canada, we make so much money as a resource economy, he said, we forget that 40% of our population is illiterate (why would you fiForest near Merrittnish school when you can make good money without it in the oilpatch?).

Canada needs to get over its reluctance to address the core of the problem, he told us: who are we as a culture? Do we really want to dig a hole the size of Rhode Island or Delaware in order to keep cars on the road in the United States or China?

Having slipped into the programs of ASLE conferences past by reading poetry, on Friday I made my ALECC debut as a paper presenter, holding the first spot in the first session following the plenary (and following a luscious coffee break in which we were supplied with good quality baked goods and condiments) with my paper Reaping the Past: Gardens as Repositories of Local Food Memory. I reflected on the aspects of memory to be found in soil, seed, plant and gardener, and the impact of our cultural amnesia around food production, drawing on some interesting reading I’d done (I was particularly taken with The Secret Life of Dust). One of my fellow presenters, Jennifer Wheat, took us later for a ramble round lost gardens and the possibilities of guerrilla and community gardening.

For the rest of the conference, technology ruled the sessions I went to, and it was not a benign dictatorship. PowerPoint slides that ran ahead and out of control, papers read off iPads without having been timed, speakers seating themselves squarely in front of their screens, presentations delivered off websites that had to be manually dragged into frame, disappearing pictures, and the irritating Apple-shrinkage of screens at the hands of PC users. It is hard to think of a way we could prevent all these diverse problems in today’s technological ocean, whose tides travel in both positive and negative directions. Bringing a child along to these conferences as technology adviser might be a start.

I had certainly been grateful,earlier in the day, for the tweeted and emailed updates to the traffic situation and the location of key participants. But I also had ample time to reflect, as I have over the years in which technology has overtaken the simplicity of the spoken word in lectures everywhere, on just how many wasted learner-years must have accrued in the endless waiting for technological problems to be righted.