Meeting Halfway between Locavore and Global

Continuing my exploration of organic, non-industrial vs. industrial, large-scale agriculture in terms of ability to feed the world, I came across a surprising assertion in a report I'm reading (The Future of Farming and Food, issued by the UK government). This report commits to the same values I discussed last time: right to food, sustainability, nutrition, global footprint and contribution to climate change, so I'm definitely intrigued (but not finished, it's long). The surprising assertion is that while they don't seem particularly in favor of big, industrial agriculture, they emphatically denounce national self-sufficiency as a viable agricultural system and advocate instead for a global food supply system, albeit with some radical changes. Global food distribution is usually associated with industrial agriculture.

Self-sufficiency of supply refers to the ability of the population of each country in the world to feed itself with produce grown within that country. This idea is definitely in vogue at the moment, and for good reasons.
• A country that feeds itself will be insulated from changes in global food prices. A recent story on NPR discusses various reasons for why food prices fluctuate less in some countries than others, greater self-sufficiency being one reason.
• Fossil fuels used for long haul transport of food would be reduced, although whether this would result in an overall reduction in fossil fuel is debatable because other uses, such as heating greenhouses to grow produce in a cold climate, could offset the savings gained from eating food grown nearby.
• Finally a country that is self-sufficient would not have to hand over much control of their food system to global multi-nationals, who don't have much stake in local well-being. For instance, in an area with farms that grow a variety of foodstuffs, selling (and buying) food locally would be one option for that area, whereas if all or most farms in a given area grew a single commodity, such as coffee, the community does not have any option but to buy food from an external source with a large enough infrastructure to procure, transport and sell that food across great distances, most likely a large corporation.

So why would this report argue against national self-sufficiency? Well, frankly, I don't know yet because I'm only reading the executive summary, which presents the conclusions but not the data to explain how these were reached. In a few hundred pages, I should have a better idea! But I would guess it is attributed mainly to the fact that many countries simply don't have a viable climate for supporting their population year round. I don't know that this is true, but if I examine my own situation in Colorado, I can certainly see that it would be a challenge...

While Colorado supports a huge agricultural sector, local food still isn't available during the winter, which by most standards, isn't a particularly hard one. I've gone to great lengths to store fall vegetables and fruits and can usually make it until about December without buying much from the supermarket. But in the months from January through to about April, the cupboards would be completely bare if I didn't buy produce from California. Obviously I could go further with preservation techniques like canning and freezing, but given that I already go to great lengths and spend a huge portion of my paycheck on groceries, I just don't see how asking each and every person to do this is fair or realistic. Carry that idea further to places with an even longer winter, and one has to wonder if people in those regions could survive on locally grown produce.

Despite the difficulties of eating locally (which is basically the same thing as self-sufficiency), I still don't believe that a global food system is the answer. This report proposes that in order for it to work, there must be drastic changes made, such as creating truly free trade by reducing subsidies in richer countries, or by some mechanism to stabilize prices of commodities.

Even if that happened, this still leaves every country completely dependant on global food policy, which seems like a precarious situation for small countries in particular, given that individually they will never be able to exert much influence on policy at a global level.

What about something halfway in between? For instance, each country focuses some percentage of resources on a commonly consumed staple in that country, e.g. rice or corn. The government could put national policies in place (e.g. tariffs on imports) that would push its farmers to grow and sell nationally the designated amount, say 50%, of the countries needs for this staple. The rest of the land could be used for any other purpose, such as commodity crops like coffee, or more diverse product like fruits and vegetables, or further growth of the staple for export. If global food prices increase, the country would have a buffer that could be used for softening the blow of the increase.

Perhaps strong national policies that mandate a minimum level of self-sufficiency and are tailored to each country's climate and culinary traditions would provide enough of a safety net to allow the remainder of the agricultural economy to be left to gravitate naturally towards the system that fits best, whether global or local in nature.

Updating Risotto with Whole Grains and Spring Veggies

In my last post, I decided that I was definitely going to branch out from my usual Italian and Irish fare into more diverse, particularly vegetarian, cuisines. Tonight I got the vegetarian part right, not so much the branching out part.

After going to the Farmer's Market last weekend, my fridge is filled with spring onions, garlic, leafy greens and beautiful purple and green asparagus. Whenever asparagus comes in season, I'm inspired to make risotto, that oozing, creamy, silky rice dish that lends itself so well to delicate spring vegetables.

One thing I don't like about risotto, and the main reason I get sick of it as soon as asparagus goes out of season, is that it consists mainly of starchy white rice which leaves me with a heavy, sluggish feeling.

So today, I thought I'd go crazy and try a healthier version using brown rice and pack it with spring veggies. I found myself remembering my brown rice pudding experiment and thinking that this will be a waste of perfectly good vegetables, but I was not to be deterred. We could always order pizza.

The challenge, of course, would be the texture. Risotto is made with very specific types of rice (I usually use arborio) which have a short, plump shape and high starch content. The starch is what creates the oozing texture. The rice is briefly sauteed in a base of fragrant vegetables and olive oil, then cooked slowly by stirring in spoonful after spoonful of stock or water. You're never simmering the rice, but rather stirring the liquid into it, over and over and over. This repeated motion is what draws the starch out of the rice. By the time the rice is cooked through, half of it has dissolved and mixed with the stock to create a thick, flavorful sauce.

The problem with brown rice is twofold. First, the cooking time: risotto takes about 40 minutes, which is about 4 times as long as the same rice would take to cook simmering on the stove. Given that brown rice takes about 45 minutes to cook (at Boulder altitude), this projects to a cooking time of 3 hours, stirring all the while. Hmmm. No wonder I've never seen a recipe for brown rice risotto.

The second problem is the rice bran. I assume that this coating, which gets polished off to create white rice, will probably be a nice layer of protection for the very starches which I want to release.

I decided to ignore the second problem, figuring that if I can at least get the rice to cook, then I'd be left with a soupy stew, which might not taste like risotto, but would be edible.

Back to the first problem. I didn't want to parboil the rice, as I was worried that it would get fluffy before it's time, and therefore I'd miss my starch release window. But I couldn't possibly stir it for three hours. Instead I did a combination stir/simmer method. After sauteing the rice and deglazing the pan, I went about making the risotto as usual, adding a spoonful of stock, stirring it in, adding, stirring, and so on. I did this for about 20 minutes. Next I added a few extra spoonfuls of liquid, stuck the lid on and let it simmer for about 10 minutes. Then I removed the lid and went back to the risotto stirring method for a few minutes. I repeated this process for about an hour.

The resulting texture was not quite as silky as white rice risotto, but it was definitely pleasant and unmistakably risotto. In fact, there was one improvement. Risotto is supposed to be cooked just until the rice has a bit of bite left in it, rather than until mushy. The chewiness of the brown rice enhanced the characteristic contrast between the soft texture of the sauce and the al dente bite of the rice.

One final tip - because this risotto takes much longer to cook than white rice risotto, don't add all of the veggies to the pot at the beginning, or it will end up bland and colorless. Reserve half to add at, or close to, the end. And go crazy with the veggies. I've put the ones that I used here for reference, but this is very specific to produce available in May in Colorado!

Here is my heavily modified recipe, adapted from The Naked Chef, by (my hero, sigh) Jamie Oliver.

Springtime Brown Rice Risotto with Asparagus Serves 4

• 1 Tbs. olive oil
• 1 red onion, diced
• 5 Egyptian bunching onions (or spring onions)
• 4 stalks celery, finely chopped
• 1 stalk Elephant garlic (or 2 cloves garlic, minced)
• 1/2 lb. asparagus
• 1 1/2 c. short grain brown rice
• 1/2 c. dry white vermouth
• 1 quart low (or no) sodium stock (chicken or vegetable) plus extra water
• 4 Tbs. butter, cut into large chunks
• 1 large handful grated Parmesan cheese
• 1 small handful mint, roughly chopped
• sea salt and fresh ground black pepper
  

Cut the elephant garlic into thirds crosswise. Save the end third for making stock another time. Finely slice the remaining green and white parts separately. Repeat with the spring onions.

Remove the tough ends from the asparagus by holding both ends and bending until the stalk snaps. Cut the tips from the asparagus. Finely slice the stalks. Blanch the tips for about 30 seconds in rapidly boiling water, then plunge them into ice water to keep them from cooking further. Remove and drain.

Ok, prep time is over...now to cook the risotto!

Heat the olive oil to medium/medium low in a large pan. Add the red onion, white part of the spring onions, the celery, and a large pinch of salt. Sweat them without coloring for about 5 minutes until soft. Add the white part of the garlic and cook for another two minutes.

Turn the heat up a bit, then add the rice. Stir it continuously, so as not to color. After a few minutes, it will look translucent. In a dramatic splash, add the vermouth (see my previous post on how much fun this is), stirring to dissolve all of the delicious vegetable residue from the bottom of the pan.

Once the vermouth is cooked into the rice, add the first spoonful of stock, the sliced asparagus stalks and a pinch of salt. Continue to cook for about an hour using the stir/simmer technique described above. Also, check for seasoning periodically, adding salt and pepper to taste.

When the rice is soft with a slight bite remaining, remove the pan from the heat. Stir in the butter, cheese, green ends of the onions and garlic, the asparagus tips and the mint. Be conservative with the mint - you want just a hint. Leave covered to rest for about five minutes.

Finally, check the texture, adding a little more liquid if necessary, and seasoning. Serve garnished with grated Parmesan and a little more mint. Goes well with a crisp green salad.

Step Away from the Banana

I haven't been blogging as much as I'd like to lately. It's not because I'm not thinking about it or because I have run out of topics ... actually it's the opposite. As I do more and more research, I get sucked into the wealth of interesting information out there. I want to draw it all together somehow, introduce you to a few interesting articles you may not have found, and then point out interesting conclusions or questions that were left out.

But there is too much. So instead, I just keep reading and thinking...

This week's fascinating topic? The economics of locavorism.

After reading the New York Times' column by James McWilliams on the topic of not-so-free range pigs, about which I wrote last week, I found more interesting columns from him and also from the Freakonomics blog in The New York Times.

The theme - eating local is not a panacea to all of our environmental and economic woes. A few of the major points:

• Food miles travelled is not necessarily an indicator of the carbon footprint of a food. For example, lamb raised in New Zealand on their abundant source of clover and then shipped to Britain, requires about 1/4 of the energy of lamb raised in Britain which must be supplemented with feed. Therefore, while the distance a food has traveled is a nice metric to follow, the environmentally minded consumer must actually think about the entire life cycle of the item to determine the least impactful choice.¹
• Most places are not suited to growing a diverse, healthy diet year round. ² Therefore, the amount of fossil fuel and water that must be devoted to producing such a diet locally is offset by any reduction in fossil fuel spent on transporting it from a more suitable climate. ³ Actually, I guess this a slightly different statement of the previous point. Oh well, I like it. Maybe I should edit more, but tonight I'm not going to ;)
• What about economics of scale? Large scale farming of only tomatoes is efficient in a way that cannot be reproduced by small farmers or home-gardeners, regardless of whether the climate is suited to growing tomatoes.
• Consumers would have to adopt a radically different diet if they were to avoid, for instance, bananas, which can't even grow in this country.
• How local is local enough? If everyone agreed to eat food grown within a 100 mile radius, it wouldn't be possible to feed all of New York City. Does this mean that everyone should leave?

While all of these are certainly interesting points, I'm left, as usual, with more questions than answers.

How sustainable long-term is large scale farming? How much soil is depleted and resources are required by repeatedly farming the same tomato crop on the same plot of soil?

What about the non-economic value of a fresh, varied diet? While variety can certainly be added to a diet by importing tropical fruits from abroad, it can also be added by redeveloping countless heirloom plant varieties not sold in supermarkets. Fruit and veg (and meat) sold in supermarkets is bred for two things, consistency and yield. Whether grown locally or not, a diet consisting year round of the same single variety each of strawberries, carrots, potatoes, spinach, apples and bananas may be efficient but I doubt if it provides us with the complex set of nutrients you can get from experimenting with regional varieties. Local farmers aren't in it for the efficiency, that's true. They're in it for exactly this inefficient diversity, among other things. And I like that.

Ok, ok, each of these columns raises some interesting points, and while I don't wholeheartedly agree, I definitely have some things to think about.

But geez, who are these extremists to which these columns refer? Yes, Barbara Kingsolver managed to do it, and write about it (is her book published on locally sourced paper?), but what about the rest of us? According to those close to me, I am BY FAR the most extreme local eater of anyone I know. And yes, I do eat bananas. And I only feel a little guilty about it. Ok, maybe a lot. But I still do it.

¹ Food That Travels Well, James McWilliams. The New York Times: August 6, 2007

² Do We Really Need a Few Billion Locavores, Stephen J. Dubner. The New York Times: June 9, 2008.

³ Will the Anti-Locavorism Never End, Stephen J. Dubner and James McWilliams. The New York Times: August 26, 2008.