Is Communal Cooking For You?

LIFE public domain image

Our hands are as busy as our foremother’s must have been at quilting bees and Grange dinners but we hardly notice. We’re talking and laughing as we chop, peel, roll, crimp, and bake dozens of pies. When we relax afterwards with wine and a potluck meal, we enjoy a blissful feeling of accomplishment.

I like getting together with friends to make food. We pick apples, then spend a long delightful evening cooking down and canning applesauce. Or we make time-consuming appetizers like homemade egg rolls to freeze, ready for the months ahead. I’m all about saving time and money, especially if there’s laughter involved. It should be fun.

Communal cooking is as old as cooking itself. Pooling our energy and talents as we gather to prepare food at the fire is so ancient that it might as well rest in our DNA. It’s not hard to imagine gathering, preparing, and bringing forth each welcome meal in partnership with our friends and relatives, the oldest among us sharing their wisdom while the children learn and lend enthusiasm. Somewhere in the back of our brains the feeling may linger that we are meant to do this together. Maybe that’s why the tasks associated with getting food on the table are so arduous. If throughout the ages we humans always did this with others, of course doing the work alone seems more burdensome. We miss the camaraderie, the conversation, and the pleasure found in teamwork.

Meeting up to do large-batch cooking lets us hearken back to our roots. Such groups let us ease the burden by sharing resources, hopefully with the added perk of merriment. There are lots of ways of structuring a communal cooking group. My friends are pretty casual. We tend to call each other when a big project looms, like making hundreds of sushi rolls for a fundraiser or getting holiday baking out of the way in one day. Some groups have more formal arrangements. They meet regularly to prepare large batch meals to be frozen in smaller amounts for upcoming dinners. They may use food as a way of establishing a local bartering group. They may gather around specific dietary preferences. They may add so many members that it’s necessary to rent commercial kitchen space. The possibilities are exciting. And hopefully, fun.

For more information

Mama Bake is a “worldwide community of big batch, group cooking, laundry ignoring, Mamas.” They offer an amusing blog plus some big batch recipes.

Eat With Me is “a social networking site where you can plan cool food events, post them online and invite other foodies to join in.”

Meetup is an easy way to gather together like-minded people. Their slogan is “Do something. Learn something. Share something. Change something.”

Cooking with Friends ”is an interactive community of people who cook together as a creative outlet and as a way to grow and enhance friendships.”

How to start a community kitchen

Food and Fellowship: Projects and Recipes to Feed a Community

Frozen Assets, 2E: Cook for a Day, Eat for a Month

The Best Make-Ahead Recipe

Cooking for a Crowd

Moosewood Restaurant Cooks for a Crowd: Recipes With a Vegetarian Emphasis for 24 or More

Large Quantity Recipes

 

 

This is a Food Renegade, Real Food Wednesday, Simple Lives Thursday, Pennywise Platter, Butter Believer, Patchwork Living, and Real Food Forager post.   

Plastic: Danger Still Lurks In The “Good” Stuff

BPA free plastics still leach toxins

You may be careful to buy only BPA-free toys, clear wrap, travel mugs, and other plastics. Doing so is supposed to spare your family from hormone-disrupting chemicals. But these items still aren’t safe (if by safe you mean products that don’t leach other hormone-disrupting chemicals). A new study indicates that nearly every plastic product (including BPA-free) is made up of chemicals that stimulate estrogenic activity (EA) in human cells.

Estrogen made by our bodies in the right quantities at the right time is a good thing. But chemicals with EA have been linked to a whole slew of frightening problems like increased rates of reproductive cancers, premature puberty in girls, lowered sperm counts, obesity, and more.

To perform the study, University of Texas researchers purchased 455 widely available plastic products. Although most were labeled “BPA-free” it wasn’t possible to determine exactly what chemicals they contained. Apparently this is proprietary information closely guarded by industry. To determine if the products had estrogenic effects, researchers exposed extracted versions to solvents meant to mimic food and beverage items these plastics were likely to contain. Then, they exposed these extracts to a type of human breast cancer cell that’s highly receptive to estrogen. Cells that multiplied in the presence of plastic extracts indicated that those particular chemicals were estrogenic.

The results? Nearly every plastic product they tested leached EA chemicals. Some BPA-free products actually released more EA than other plastics. That included eco-friendly plastics made from plant products, which apparently released EA due to the additives used.

In addition, the researchers checked the effect of sunlight, microwave use, and dishwasher use on the products being studied. They determined plastics leach more EA after these ordinary stressors.

I’m not sure about some of the methodology used in this study, for example, to simulate a dishwasher they heated plastic in an autoclave to a temperature much hotter than average household appliances reach, possibility making the plastic degrade in ways it wouldn’t from normal use. But I prefer to avoid taking a chance. I’ve read too many studies showing there are markers of plastic-derived endocrine disruptors in some species of amphibians, the same ones manifesting a range of dysmorphic features.

We aren’t plastic-free here by any means, but a few years ago I started using heavy glass storage dishes of all sizes (some vintage ones found in resale shops and some new). I use my old plastic containers to store homemade soap powders and craft supplies. I pack lunches in metal food containers and fabric sandwich bags whenever possible. And when buying toys I aim for creative, open-ended Waldorf-y items rather than those buzzing, beeping plastic things that crowd toy store shelves.

Are plastics a necessary convenience or a risk you’d rather avoid? Check out these and other resources and  us know what you think.

Resources

Eliminating Plastic From Our Lives

Nine Ways To Reduce Plastic Use

My Plastic Free Life

Attainable Sustainable: Reviving the Lost Art of Self-Sufficiency

Plastic Fantastic

 

even co-friendly plastics made from plant products leaches chemicals

 

A Monday Mania, Simple Lives, Traditional Tuesdays, and Real Food Forager post.   

Mentor: Fancy Name For Grown-Ups Kids Need

image courtesy of LisaW123's Flickr photostream

The little boy just wanted to “do stuff.”

His parents let him traipse around with his wagon on garbage collection day. He’d take home pieces of wood, carefully pulling out nails to store in a can, so he and his friends would have the necessary materials to build forts or go-carts. Occasionally he found small engines that he’d do his best to fix. No one intervened to tell him his pursuits weren’t safe.

His neighbors didn’t mind having this kid appear whenever they did something interesting—fix a car, build a shed, tend a greenhouse full of plants, run a garage sale. He was eager to learn and even more eager to help, so they did what adults have done throughout time. They shooed him away occasionally but mostly they shared what they knew.

He made use of what he learned. By the time he was 12 or 13 years old, these neighbors let him take on their home and car repairs, recognizing he was able to do a more exacting job than they might have done themselves. He gained more than skills from the adults in his life. He may have been leaning over a car hood with Clyde, but he was also learning how to understand the function of each system by paying attention. It seemed he was only helping Mr. Christman with the heavy tasks of operated a greenhouse but he was also taking in something important about growing old with dignity. It appeared he was working alongside his grandfather but he was also seeing how reputation, honesty, and treating each person with respect builds a small business.

Because he developed richly rewarding relationships with people of all ages, relatives as well as neighbors, he had plenty of examples to draw on as he matured. He saw how different people handled decisions, disciplined their children, laughed off trouble, solved problems, stayed in love.

His experience was rare. It’s becoming rarer all the time.

Throughout nearly all of their childhood and teen years our kids are segregated in day care, school, sports, and other activities. Even when they benefit from the very best programs, if they’re restricted to the company of same-aged peers doing what adults consider educational and enriching they are deprived of the riches found through fully engaging in the wider world. This subverts the way youth have matured throughout human history, when children learned right in the context of family and community—freely able to watch, imitate, and foster relationships with people of all ages.

We put kids in an oddly uncomfortable position when most adults in their lives are focused on them. Children want to center themselves, not have adult attention centered on them. Kids long to model themselves after adults who are engaged in meaningful, interesting, and useful activities of their own. When their experience of adults is limited to those who are there to care for, educate, or entertain children (important callings but not all that adults can do) the dynamic is shifted. The age-old desire to gain mastery and take on responsibility, eagerly becoming a capable adult, doesn’t have the same pull.

There are plenty of educational initiatives to bridge this gap, particularly for teens. These programs connect students with mentors or bring community members into schools to talk about their careers. While these efforts are admirable, such stopgap measures aren’t the way young people learn best. They need to spend appreciable time with people of all ages—observing, conversing and taking on responsibility. Real responsibilities, real relationships.

How can we remedy this?

• Re-engage kids in the community.
• Foster strong extended family relationships.
• Respect and support the ways young people find their own mentors.
• Encourage potentially rich connections that can be made online and in the work-a-day world.
• Recognize that each person gathers what they need from interactions with others.

That little boy? He grew up to be a remarkably capable, beautifully open-hearted, and endlessly positive person. I married him.

Re-posted from Farm Wench’s main blog

What Kids Learn On The Farm

The bridge over our creek washed out again, but rebuilding it was out of the question with our finances. We discussed the problem around the dinner table as we often do. Over a meal of homemade bread and soup our four children contributed plenty of suggestions. In fact they came up with the best solution. The next weekend we dragged rocks from the woods with our trusty 1942 Ferguson tractor and shored up the bridge. Sweating, grunting, and laughing as we rolled rocks into place together was a bonding experience more powerful than any vacation could be. Not that we’ve ever really had a vacation.

Or have we? I’ve seen glossy brochures advertising “farm vacations.” These are offered by working farms that also offer accommodations and meals. Their paying guests have the opportunity to do “real down home chores” like gathering eggs and milking cows. A day or two of these packaged experiences cost thousands of dollars. When the lucky vacationers return to their harried lives they have fond, although brief, memories of living closer to the land. These fancy advertisements help me realize that my own children are developing much more than memories. They are benefitting from rich life lessons gained here on our little homestead. All around me I notice examples of life lessons easily found on the farm. Take chickens, ponds, and chores for example.

Lessons via Poultry

Our chickens have always ranged freely. They have favorite areas for shade, foraging, and dust bathing. Some gravitate towards the pasture with the cows, others towards the house, still others prefer the woods. When we order day old chicks we raise them carefully ourselves, waiting to introduce them to our flock till the poults are eight weeks old. But each summer we’re fortunate to have a hen or two raise chicks she’s brooded. The mother hen brings them out with her soon after hatching. She shows them each day which foods to eat, clucks at them to stay safely nearby, and shelters them under her wings for warmth.

We notice a stark difference between the naturally raised chicks and the young ones raised in confinement with other chicks. Those raised by their own mothers, ranging outdoors with the other hens and roosters, are hardy, clever and able to fend for themselves at a young age. Those we have raised with their age mates are weaker and less adaptable. Sitting on a log with one of my children watching our chickens can’t help but lead to insightful conversations on behavior, science, and culture.

Lessons via Pond

Our pond needs dredging. We haven’t had the funds or equipment to take on the task for years. Meanwhile our once deep swimming hole is getting shallower. But when we mention this our children ask what will become of the pond’s creatures when heavy equipment scrapes away layers of mineral rich silt and algae. Won’t oxygen in the water be compromised by the particulates stirred up? Will the fish and salamanders die? Good questions.

So we give up the dredging idea, knowing the pond may eventually become boggy wetlands. Already different plants populate the edges and a greater diversity of creatures inhabit the area. We see dragonflies, huge bullfrogs, great blue herons, kingfishers, and snapping turtles. Meanwhile all around us acres of farmland have been sold and the fields paved over. Farmyards with old plantings of roses, grapevines and fruit trees are giving way to new houses with careful landscaping. Many of these homes have ponds with water in unnatural blues and greens due to chemical treatments. For our children, the contrast makes the exuberance of life flourishing on our pond seem ever more precious.

Lessons via Chores

Our woodpile is neatly stacked, although there are always more logs waiting to be split and moved. Most farm chores are labor intensive—hauling water, moving hay, checking beehives, and weeding the garden. Our offspring can clearly see that their youthful energy and strength are necessary to run the place. The sheer fact that we need their help for the benefit of the whole family strongly affects their growing years. They are marvelously imperfect as we all are, but they are a far cry more responsible, caring and mature young people than many are at their ages. Could the fact that they’re needed on the farm have anything to do with this?

What’s fascinating is that researchers have studied the long-term effect of childhood chores. They found that adult success in work, relationships, and health habits is strongly associated with regular chores in childhood—starting early on. This is a win-win. Chores help out the entire household while letting young people know that they are needed.

All children have inborn inclinations to learn by working alongside adults, gaining worthwhile skills and gradually taking on real responsibilities. That leads to a sense of true purpose and belonging that no entertainment can provide. Working on our little farm together provides us with warmth, food, pleasure and learning. It provides us many opportunities to say to each other, “Thanks, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

I have few illusions that my children will choose a farming life. But I do know that they see themselves as capable people who are able to surmount any challenge.  And I’m convinced that that the laughter and learning they find on our little farm helps them grow toward the best possible future.

First published in Countryside & Small Stock Journal 

Spinning Straw Into Gold

Anne Anderson Wikimedia Commons

Annoyances tend to come with built in irony, at least around here.

I trundle down the basement steps clutching piles of wet jeans so I can hang them close to our wood burning furnace, saving a bit of propane our clothes drier might have used.  That seems like a farce when we discover a fitting on the propane tank has been leaking, letting hundreds of dollars worth of gas drift away in an ecologically irresponsible manner.

We have fresh milk, butter, and cheese thanks to our cow Isabelle. We avoid calculating if we’re actually saving money this way but it’s obvious when it costs us. Like now, when we couldn’t harvest a single bale of hay last summer due to flooded fields. These days we have to buy each mouthful of hay she eats in exchange for the food she provides us.

What I can’t grow and preserve myself, I like to get in bulk from a natural foods co-op. It helps us afford organic food. But not when I find grain moths in my 25 pound container of buckwheat groats. Guess the chickens get buckwheat added to their diets and my kids won’t have to complain about pancakes the color of wet cardboard.

Sometimes I’m tempted to indulge in a Rumpelstiltskin-like tantrum. I don’t want to hear about the money we need to fix a tractor. I don’t want to clean a pile of dog puke or stay up late to meet another deadline or deal with unspeakably stinky laundry. I’d like the straw of everyday annoyances to turn into gold.

But then I pay attention.

Right now two of my sons are sitting by the fireplace talking and laughing with their father. My daughter is coming in from the barn, snow melting on her hair and on the bucket of eggs she’s carrying. The small dogs are wrestling at my feet while our old German shepherd rolls over to avoid watching such unruliness. It’s all perfect exactly as it is. My socks still have holes, the window molding is unfinished, there are muddy footprints by the door. But none of that matters.

This is golden.

Feast & Famine

George Eastman House collection, ca

A basic principle used by wise householders the world over is “use the worst first, put the best by.” That’s entirely contrary to what’s preached at us by advertisers but it’s how most generations before us survived. They passed down traits like fortitude, patience, and the ability to go on no matter how bleak the prospects. The hardy genes they gave us are surely flummoxed by fast food and passive entertainment.

“Use the worst first, put the best by” these days doesn’t necessarily mean we save the best for seed stock or dig through a root cellar to make sure the rutabagas going bad are fed to the cows (although I happily save seeds and feed rutabagas to cows). It simply means the apples going soft are the ones selected to make pie, leaving crisp ones for another day. The blemished celery stalks, wizening carrots, and wrinkled peppers inspire a soup. And the cut of meat that’s nearly past the “use by” date is quickly turned into an entrée.

This frugal advice inspires me to try with enthusiasm that’s easy to maintain because I know the  grocery store is only 20 minutes away. Still, I check the pantry and refrigerator regularly, employing my subversive cooking powers to create meals from whatever needs to be used up. And living on a small farm I also do my best to put up what we harvest. Despite bushels of homegrown potatoes and hundreds of canning jars filled with tomatoes, jellies, applesauce, and juices it’s clear that I’d make a horrible pioneer. Blight and powdery mildew regularly hits my garden. Cows get sick Chickens are killed by predators. Cheese doesn’t turn out right and a dozen jars of pickles are inedible. My family would starve.

Complete self-reliance isn’t my goal. I’d rather cozy up on the couch with a stack of library books and beverage of choice than work hard, even if I do appreciate the genes bestowed on me (and you) by stalwart ancestors.  But the attempts I make are teaching me something about what feast and famine might have meant to people who really relied on food they put up themselves.

After a few months of storage my potatoes begin to shrink into softness and my garlic turns dark and hollow. My dried peppers become fragile as dust. My fermented cabbage and pickles start to taste strange. If I lived about 200 years ago I wouldn’t know about home canning and would have to rely entirely on techniques like salting, drying, lacto-fermentation, and root cellaring. These methods are no real assurance that food will last. Several hundred years ago I’d have to balance out my family’s hunger with the need to save enough to get through the winter. I’d have to check regularly to make sure the dried fish and fruits were free of infestation, the salted meat wasn’t getting slimy, the grains weren’t spreading mold, the root vegetables hadn’t frozen. At some point, probably around early to mid-winter, it would be clear to me and to every other householder making the same hard choices, that some of our food wouldn’t last no matter what we did. Everything degrades.

And so we’d make a decision based entirely on faith and goodwill. We’d entend, through our own hard won food, the kind of hope that is of the body itself, the kind of hope that has a close acquaintance with hunger and death but goes on anyway. If I were a woman of this time I would take from storage a bounty of foods not likely to last through the winter anyway. I would cook and bake and invite people to feast with my family. The table would be filled with plenty, even if it meant in a few month’s time I’d be feeding my children soups made with nothing more than salt and beans to tide them over and scrounging in desperation for the first greens to emerge as the snow melted. I can almost picture this woman heaping food on plates. Such a feast would be celebrated with faith that we talk about these days but don’t know in our bellies. It has to do with reverence that’s forever tied to holiday meals.

I’ll be thinking about this woman as I put dinner on the table tonight, relishing the welcome sight of my loved ones eating what I’ve worked to prepare just as she must have done. That’s what “put the best by” is teaching me.

This is a Food Renegade, Real Food Wednesday, Simple Lives Thursday, Homespun Waldorf, and Traditional Tuesday post. 

Five Ways To Ease The Crazy Busy Syndrome

Who isn’t busy all the time? But around the holidays we’re crazy busy. At least women are, and those lights in our lives we call children make the pace even more frantic.

Sure we make efforts to simplify and de-stress but for most of us the additional joy of holiday decorating, baking, cooking, shopping, wrapping, gifting, visiting, hosting, and merrymaking have to fit right into our regular (overburdened) schedules.

It’s not like we can make more time where there is none. Well, maybe we can. At least we can use our time differently. I confess to suffering from Crazy Busy Syndrome but I fight back with these tactics.

1. Renounce the How-Does-She-Do-It-All-Disease.

You know the symptoms. You add extra responsibilities to your already hyper-responsible list of tasks. You uphold traditions because your family enjoys them. You pay close attention to get just the right gifts. You worry about money more than usual while spending more than usual. On top of all this you try to keep the focus on intangibles like joy and togetherness. The most extreme cases of How-Does-She-Do-It-All-Disease manage to keep up with everything and still keep smiling. Or at least feign good cheer.

When the frenzy is over you often end up with an empty feeling. The warm tenderness and connection we hope to feel around the holidays often gets lost under the sheer weight of obligation.

The cure? Talk to your loved ones about what means the most to them, then slice away the rest. If that doesn’t work, slice anyway. If you feel guilty about it sit down and read a nice stack of picture books to your children. No one really puts you in the Little Red Hen role for the holidays. Besides, that too-cheery tone you use doesn’t fool anyone.

2. Shun Those Voices.

They speak to you from TV shows, magazines, websites, blogs, store displays—in fact they’re hard to escape during the holidays. They seem genuine and alluring but their sole aim is to make you feel insufficient. These voices relentlessly tell you that you’re not enough. To compensate you must do more. Dress beautifully, make elaborate meals, buy lavish gifts (and wrap them with panache), lose 10 pounds by New Year’s Eve, capture every holiday memory in photos and videos, be a sexy surprise for your partner—oh, you know the list.

This is the only diet you need to go on. Don’t watch a single cooking show, don’t open one slick women’s magazine, avoid stores as much as possible. You’ll have a lot more time plus you won’t have to reassemble what’s left of your self esteem.

3. Screw Tradition.

No, I don’t mean you should shun Grandma’s house.  I mean it’s possible to enjoy the season without so much of the heavy Gotta Do It  Because We Always Do It weight hanging over you.

Some of my family’s most memorable holidays have actually been those that veered wildly from tradition. We won’t forget a holiday dinner at Becky’s house featuring walls still wet with paint, an oven on fire, and a dog getting sick everywhere. The zinger? She hosted the event to show visitors from Germany how we celebrate here in the U.S.

If you’ve always gone to the movie theater to see the newest holiday releases after a day of shopping, skip both and go to a play at your community theater. If you’ve accepted every holiday invitation despite the costs of babysitters, travel, and lost sleep limit your selections to those events that are simply too wonderful to miss. If you’ve always made a big meal, consider ordering take-out from a locally owned restaurant to serve on your best plates. If you’ve always accommodated your kids’ requests for gifts because it’s Christmas or Hanukah or Kwanzaa put new limits on materialism, letting them know you’ll consider one or two items they make their highest priorities. If you’ve always driven around to see the holiday lights, go outside on a frosty night to sing together (even if only to a lone tree lit by moonlight). You’ll not only save time and money, you’ll also create new traditions.

4. Rethink Gift-Giving.

Great-grandma is right, things have gotten out of hand. In her day children looked forward to gifts such as a fresh orange, maybe a piece of candy, and if they were lucky a toy or useful gift like a pocketknife or sewing kit. Historian Howard Chudacoff writes in Children at Play: An American History that most toys co-opt and control play. A child is better off with free time and objects he or she can use to fuel imagination (yes, a cardboard box).

I admit things got out of hand in my own house. In a quest for meaning (let’s rephrase that to my quest for meaning) we’ve always had handmade holidays.  I’m one of those annoying people. Meals from scratch, hand crafted gifts, organic cookies that are frightening dark due to buckwheat flour. Each of my four children made gifts for everyone every year, gifts that took substantial effort such as woodworking, felting, and ceramics. My kids still make some of the gifts they give although I’ve stopped putting myself in charge of coming up with the ideas and supervising the process.

The last few years economic realities have made handmade and useful gifts ever more necessary for many of us. Thankfully there are solutions. Choose gifts from socially responsible vendors, non-profit sources, and directly from artisans.  And take heart, studies show experiences brings more lasting pleasure than possessions. That’s a great reason to steer your holiday dollars toward gifts of theater tickets, museum passes, unusual lessons, local restaurants, and other experience-based gifts.

5. Last Resort.

This tactic is heavy duty, the one I bring out when I start to feel sorry for myself. Because we’re not crazy busy in comparison to women throughout history. We think we’re stressed? Our foremothers hauled water; carded, spun and sewed clothes; chopped firewood and maintained the stove they cooked on; ground grain and made bread each day; planted and weeded gardens, then canned and dried the harvest; stretched limited food reserves with careful planning to last; cared for babies, children and the elderly with no professional help; treated the sick, stitched wounds and prepared the dead for burial. You get the idea.

Worse, many women in today’s world still do this sort of grinding labor each day. Typically, women in developing countries work 17 hours a day.  Our sisters receive a tenth of the world’s income while performing two-thirds of the world’s work. These harsh realities put any concept of busy or stressed right out of my head. (For empowering information, check out the wonderful book Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide.)

So fight the Crazy Busy Syndrome with all you’ve got. And if you aren’t on my list to get homemade buckwheat cookies, count your blessings.

This is a re-post from Farm Wench’s main site.