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  • ASLE 4: farmers market and Banerjee on global warming

    The Bloomington Farmers Market played an unusual role in ASLE 2011. Not part of the official program, it was located near enough to the campus to lure a number of Saturday morning wanderers away from the last day’s sessions for an hour or two. By happy coincidence, I was one of those wanderers, having run into  a like-minded traveller in the elevator.

    We learned later from the evening’s banquet speaker – an academic whose husband grows flowers and garlic to sell there – that it had been a fairly average day with some 75 vendors and about 8,000 visitors. The sun shone on our visit (but not too much) and we had a happy forage through the wares. Cheese there was, including the Wabash Cannonball, which I believe I’d noticed at Goose the Market earlier on my visit, but like so much on offer, I did not dare try to take home with me except in pictures. A bakery with a bread subscription program. Flowers, scapes, honey, maple syrup, lovely beets and salad greens. Some fine coffee sellers. And even a pipe (micro-) band from the local fire department, there to see off a team of local youngsters on a cycling tour to New England and New York. And some Jazzercizers (not the first I saw on this trip, in fact, as a much smaller group had been toiling away outside the market in in Indianapolis while we lolled about indoors tasting beer).

    We returned with our spoils and hot-footed it over to hear the day’s plenary speaker, environmentalist photographer-writer Subhankar Banerjee, who walked us through some of the issues he’s been documenting. The Arctic, with its burden of interlocking catastrophes, was one. It was evident from Banerjee’s photos (some of which have had enough impact to be banned) that global warming is very real in the melting north, and is making wildlife migration and the subsistence hunting/fishing lives of aboriginal northerners precarious; it seems certain the impact of development and energy exploration will destroy this way of life.

    His talk about the lives of his images and the verbal/visual battle he’s had with Shell Oil on his Huffington Post column was fascinating. His 2001 polar bear image has had, he thinks, some 40,000 reproductions, becoming one of the most well-known visual arguments against Arctic oil exploration; but Obama’s government was prepared to let it happen, until the Gulf of Mexico spill called a temporary halt to the plan. His Climatestorytellers.org website offers a forum for these and other stories of our times.

    Banerjee lives in New Mexico and next showed us some images he’s been working on with desert flora, the cholla cactus in particular, in a series called Where I Live I Hope to Know. He’s trying to understand his surroundings by focusing on what’s unremarkable in his everyday landscape. But most interesting to me was his mention of the devastation of the piñon–juniper woodland. The piñon, New Mexico’s state tree, which gives us pine nuts, is (to put it mildly) a slow-growing tree; it reaches reproductive maturity at about 300 years, and can live as long as 1000 years. He says that about 90% of the mature piñons died between 2001-2005, because of development, erosion, fire and – where my ears pricked up – because of bark beetle infestation. Like the mountain pine beetle in BC (and elsewhere), global warming has meant that the beetle can survive the increasingly mild winters.

    In the question and answer that followed, Banerjee remarked that in terms of fossil fuels,  we have exhausted “easy energy” sources; hereafter we’re calling on “extreme energy” where any extraction is dangerous and involves a magnitude of devastation, and being caught up doing or responding to that simply delays the debate on how to solve climate change. Our appetite for energy, he observed, from three countries alone – China, India and the US – has the ability to destroy the planet through extraction and consumption.

  • ASLE 3: food

    There were 15 thematic streams running through the conference (though no stream was water, ha ha) and of course my interests leaned most heavily on stream 6: Food production, food consumption, and waste.

    Which calls for some mention of foods consumed since arrival.

    We wandered over to the nearby pub for a bite the first night, for a lesson in portions and the semiotics of Indiana menus. This is what “lettuce wedge” denotes in Bloomington:

    while P’s tuna salad with plantain and vegetative miscellany was similarly scaled for prairie sized appetites, and, one suspects, not targeted at locavores.

    And speaking of size, check out this guy’s paws! I was not in a squirrel-eating mood, but later that evening I did enjoy the Ethiopian meal which was all the more delightful for having been served at a restaurant which also had an Italian menu, as the owner is Italian-Ethiopian, which with the Persian chef, makes for some interesting food.

    The other favourite was the Burmese restaurant which offered a Tea Leaf Salad and some excellent eggplant.

    But. Turning back to the conference.

    In Thursday’s session on Food Aesthetics: from Modernism to Postmodernism, Jesse Oak Taylor – in Nose to Tail Modernism – addressed the foods of Ulysses as presented by Fergus Henderson in St John Restaurant and his cookbook Nose to Tail Eating: the ‘everything but the squeal’ menu (Upton  Sinclair, The Jungle); concluding that Henderson was aiming to teach readers how to eat as much as how to cook; that respect for the animal was often seen as part of this (not wasting edible parts) but that of course from the animal’s point of view this was irrelevant (“dinner doesn’t care about the sauce”).

    On the same panel, I also enjoyed Dan Philippon‘s talk Little House on the Foodshed, which looked at the idea of the Little House books as models of sustainable consumption and noted that modern day locavores Alisa Smith/J.B. MacKinnon, Barbara Kingsolver and Bill McKibben had referenced Wilder.

    There were a couple of panels on food, film and ecocriticism. In one, Robert Boschman spoke on E.coli 0157: H7 poisoning – a personal look based on the life-threatening experience of his two pre-school children that led him to explore food safety from many angles, including the recent appearance of Cargill on the Oprah show; Dominique Laporte’s well known work from the 1970s; Marion Nestle; and the curious repression of drug treatments (that saved his daughters) developed to fight E.coli poisoning. His concluding words were that the experience – and ensuing research – changed his family’s eating patterns forever: although he lives in the heart of cattle country, he will not allow beef of any kind in his home.

    Joseph K. Heumann followed, showing Our Daily Bread while speaking on Eco-Food Films: The Documentary Tradition; a little too interesting a film for a backdrop. And at that point I had to flee to prepare for my own reading, on the Creative Approaches to Food and Farming panel where I read food poetry and was thereafter most interested in Stella Capek‘s essay about cheese and bacteria, called A Fine Line.

  • ASLE 2: gardens

    One of the features of ASLE conferences most beloved by attendees is the choice of activities slotted in to highlight the environmental features of the host region. My Friday afternoon pick was a tour of the Bloomington Community Orchard. The 44-variety organic orchard was planted last October, so it will be a couple of years before it’s bearing fruit (although there are berry bushes which will keep volunteers interested until then, perhaps).

    It’s administered by a volunteer board and has received grants already from Toms of Maine and Edys Ice Cream. Our guide, board member Ross Gay, said the grants were helpful as they gave the orchard focus through its beginnings, since the requirements – to carry out educational projects and the like – had to be satisfied within a strict time period.

    Situated at one end of land that was a former pig farm, the orchard is ringed by deer fencing and punctuated with handmade gates and posts of local locust wood.

    They try to use local materials wherever possible: the paths are made from local limestone which, compacted for use, are firm and even enough for wheelchair access. The garden shed was built with reclaimed wood, recycled materials and volunteer labour; the compost included donated leavings from a local brewery (until the eau de organic matter put a halt to that ingredient).

    Though water – and nutrients – are being carefully nurtured in the soil (groundcovers like rye and buckwheat are planted, and levelled with sickles), water will be an issue to be faced in the future because the cost of extending the water pipes is prohibitive for a nonprofit. So there are plans for a cistern and water harvesting in the works; meanwhile, in keeping with the permaculture principles being used in its design, the orchard boasts this swale which holds water along the contour of the orchard.

    Efficient use of resources means improvising and using sustainable gardening methods. Permaculturalists love comfrey as a dynamic accumulator, its use as a green manure, and its size which keeps down weeds, so it’s been planted around all the trees. The bagged decorations are actually weights intended to train the tree limbs into a horizontal or downward growth; and most of the trunks are protected with wrapping (rabbits and other rodents would be the chief culprits here, I suppose, as the fencing should keep the deer out).

    We had time to have a nose round the nearby community gardens as well, where a few people were pottering around on a Friday afternoon. Things were looking pretty healthy, despite a lot of Japanese beetles sunning themselves on corn leaves; a reminder that community includes shared pests… like this potato beetle in its striped pyjamas.

Book cover of Rhona McAdam's book Larder with still life painting of lemons and lemon branches with blossoms in a ceramic bowl. One of the lemons has a beed on it.

“…A beautiful, filling collection, Larder is a set of poems to read at the change of the seasons, to appreciate alongside a good meal, and to remind yourself of the beauty in everything, even the things you may not appreciate before opening McAdam’s collection….”

Alison Manley

Rhona McAdam is a writer, poet, editor, and Registered Holistic Nutritionist with a Master’s in Food Culture from Italy and a deep-rooted passion for ecology and urban agriculture. Her work spans corporate and technical writing to poetry and creative nonfiction, often exploring the vital links between what we eat and how we live. Based in Victoria, BC, and available via Zoom, Rhona is always open to new writing commissions, readings, or workshops on nutrition and the culinary arts.