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food & poetry, but mostly the poetry of food

Food • Writing • Poetry

Goodness, here it is March. Where did that come from?

And here are some February crocuses.

The more I read, the more complicated the world seems. Recently I’ve been reading about Omega 3 fatty acids; there was a helpful article in the Times a little while ago that shed some light on one part of the puzzle – the difference between ‘good’ (EPA and DHA) and ‘bad’ (ALA) Omega 3 fatty acids, and the tendency of vitamin supplement marketers to blur the distinctions between them.

The ‘aha’ for me was discovering that the ideal balance of Omega 3 and Omega 6 in our diet should be about 4 (Omega 6) to 1 (Omega 3). Today’s diners are more likely to be in the 20 to 1 range, thanks to the transition that Michael Pollan describes as a catastrophic shift of our “western diet” from leaf- to seed-based feeding.

The outcome is that it’s harder all the time to get enough Omega 3 in our diets, since it comes mainly from green leafy vegetables and cold-water fish, and our diet is increasingly heavy on cereals such as wheat, corn and rice, and we eat more meat than we should (beef is a special case — but more about that later).

More problematic still is the question of whether or not fish is a good thing to be eating nowadays. Between over-fishing and dangerously high mercury levels in some fish, it’s hard to know what to do. There’s a helpful chart in an exceedingly helpful article called Mercury in Fish vs. Omega-3 Fatty Acids Health Benefits that clarifies many of the questions.

Someone had told me they’d heard mackerel was particularly bad for several reasons, but it turns out that King Mackerel is bad; Atlantic Mackerel is ok. From a mercury point of view, at least. But how do you know what you’ve got when the tin in your hand simply says “Mackerel”?

I’d been shocked to read in The Omnivore’s Dilemma and again in Not on the Label about the alarming transformation in beef of ‘good’ Omega 3’s into less helpful Omega 6s through the beef industry’s switching them from grass-eating animals to grain-fed meat products. It’s true even for a cow that ‘you are what you eat’, and by eating Omega 6-laden grain, the cow’s flesh becomes likewise heavy on the Omega 6, and therefore so does the meat we consume.

By the same reasoning, we should be wary of farmed salmon – once a favoured source of Omega 3s – that are fed corn and other grains instead of their Omega 3-rich natural diet. (But then the natural diet – requiring anywhere from two to five kg of fish (as feed), depending on whose statistics you read, to produce one kg of farmed salmon – is also unsustainable.)

An otherwise thoughtful article about salmon farming by Cameron MacDonald in the Globe & Mail (Feb. 23 Focus) fell a bit short, I thought, by not discussing these health implications when promoting grain-fed salmon as the solution to the destructive practices that harvest the fish that go into the fish pellets being fed to farmed salmon in BC. But then, as the author rightly says, eating wild salmon isn’t helping either in these times of over-fishing.

Eat less of all meats and fish, I guess is the only sustainable answer. Eat mostly plants, as Pollan says.

And here he is:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LWg0cCNAB-M]

What a farewell gift from the weather gods.

Although I got lots of writing done at the writers and artists’ colony this year, I also enjoyed the reading time. I spent my evenings with Edward Hirsch, browsing his Poet’s Choice, which led me down interesting paths — including one that led to Yusuf Komunyakaa, whose name I’m sure had not crossed my radar (though Brenda tells me she also came across him recently and was impressed).

I brought a chapbook called When Now Is Not Now, produced by The Poetry Trust for Alastair Reid‘s 2006 appearance at the Aldeburgh Poetry Festival, where he was one of my clear favourites, and after re-reading those poems still is.

For criticism and theory, I brought Annie Finch, The Body of Poetry, which had a fabulous piece in it about how the DWM canon came to be and what to do if you don’t like it. And some welcome introduction to the work of Sara Teasdale, which delighted me.

Other books I’ve read over the past couple of weeks include Jane Hirschfield‘s After; Vona Groarke‘s Shale, Paul Farley‘s Tramp In Flames, the 2007 Forward Prize Anthology, Helena McEwan’s Ghost Girl, Medbh McGuckian‘s The Currach Requires No Harbours, Mimi Khalvati’s The Meanest Flower, and Naomi Guttman’s Wet Apples, White Blood.

So here we are, having had a fabulous if freezing view of the lunar eclipse; last night having seen some absolutely gorgeous layered photographic slides from Regina’s own Cherie Westmoreland, and had our farewell reading. It’s time to pack up.

So long to Benedict…

And to these newcomers, who were born out in a -25c field and luckily spotted and brought inside for a little time under the heatlamp…

And today, all the colonists fly away home.

I went round to the sheep barn again yesterday, braving the face-freezing weather for a glimpse of the two latest arrivals, born on Sunday.

I had apparently timed my visit to nap time. Tipsy was there with her colourful offspring.

And this pair were watching the door.

In other news… Last night I made a batch of Fanny Bay smoked oyster pate (my changes: I used 2 tins of Fanny Bay smoked oysters instead of 1; green onion instead of white; and added a tablespoon of plain yogurt and a good squeeze of fresh lemon juice and a pinch of minced lemon rind) which swiftly vanished into the colony’s creativity machine.

A last swing round the freezing streets of Humboldt yielded an “Italian-inspired” yogurt maker, currently in experimental use (though Carla tells us she makes her yogurt in a much simpler way: using a mason jar, wrapped in a towel and set on the hot water tank overnight). After a crippling second night of badminton I am moving slowly but making what I can of my final two days and looking forward to our finale reading and studio tour tomorrow night.

What’s behind the blue door?

The chickadees have long been friendly,

but this is the first year I’ve had nuthatches in hand.

This little white lamb is a charmer – always curious and full of beans…

..who’s mama’s favourite little mountain goat?

And I hate to say it, but the alpaca babe (Benedict, of course) has a funny face.

As we engage in our annual reflections about food and menu in the monastery’s dining room, it happens that the Food Programme’s latest show was on nursery school food and what toddlers eat: the roots of institutional dining, and part of the programming that shapes a child’s food tastes for life.

There was an observation that parents ought to be looking at the food offered to children with the same care they pay to checking out the qualifications of the staff and the rest of the facilities.

An interesting point made: don’t expect children to take to something you demonstrably don’t eat and enjoy yourself: “It’s no good expecting a child to eat something if you make a face when you feed it to them” remarked Dr Gillian Harris, a child psychologist (interviewed to much the same ends in this interesting piece on ‘supertasters’).

And the French were again held up as a model of good practice; this time for school meals – where attention is paid to the quality of the food as well as the food culture around it. Which is nice to hear, but not what we witnessed being fed to students of business school age, if what we experienced at the Dijon Business School is anything to go by.

I was even happier to have been born liking broccoli and cauliflower when I read this article.