Dear Muir Glen, I Need More From This Relationship

Dear Muir Glen,

If you want us to be together, I’m going to need more out of this relationship. Hear me out, would you?

We broke up because you and I had different needs. I needed to be able to make pot after pot of chili without feeling like I was serving up BPA stew all the time. You needed to keep your price point reasonable, given that there weren’t any obvious substitutions you felt you could make to your can liners.

We had, in short, irreconcilable differences.

Then, we had a post break-up chat. I sent you this little breezy message:

11/10/09: I love your products, but I have a question. I see on the label that the can has a "white enamel coating." Have you tested for BPA? Thank you, S.P. 

You replied:

Dear Ms. Pinneo:

Thank you for contacting Muir Glen regarding bisphenol-A in food packaging.  Bisphenol-A is a critical component of protective coatings used with metal food packaging and provides important quality and safety features to canned foods.

Scientific and government bodies worldwide have examined the scientific evidence and consistently have reached the conclusion that BPA is not a risk to human health.  Recent examples include comprehensive risk assessments in Japan and Europe and a review by an independent panel of experts organized by the Harvard Center for Risk Analysis. The can coatings used in Muir Glen packaging comply with the U.S. Food and Drug Administration requirements for use in food contact applications.  These coatings have long played an essential part in food preservation, helping to maintain wholesomeness, nutritional value, and product quality.

We work closely with our suppliers to ensure that all of the food ingredients and packaging materials we use are fully in compliance with U.S. Food and Drug Administration requirements and meet our high quality standards.

We will continue to monitor this situation.  If you have any further questions, please feel free to contact us.  Your questions and comments are always welcome.  For more information on the safety of metal food containers, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration press office may be contacted at (301) 436-2335.

Sincerely,

Craig Grey

Consumer Services

To be honest, I didn’t like your reply very much. I felt the need to restate my objections. I wrote:

Dear Mr. Grey,

I have thus far enjoyed Muir Glen products, but I feel your approach is wrong-headed here.  It is no coincidence that the email address from which your reply comes is "Corporate.Response@..."  Your answer is very much a corporate response.  I am quite sure that the Muir Glen line complies with FDA regulations.  But the public tide against BPA is turning very much against this product.  In fact, it is likely to be outlawed a ways down the road.  Why not get ahead of the curve?  You make an otherwise wholesome product.  People are tired of learning that companies they've trusted use BPA in their packaging.  Every mother at our school is horribly annoyed at SIGG for the water bottle revelation.  

Get ahead of the game here.  Get rid of the BPA.

S.

And you wrote… nothing. And so that was it between us. And even though many of my friends really love you, and it was awkward at parties, we’ve been apart for quite a while now.

And I’ve been coping on my own. There were a few lonely Friday nights, but I pulled through. I flirted with other tomato products, I batted my eyes at tetra-packs and glass bottles. If you must know, I have a big crush on glass bottles these days. In my darker moments I wonder why you can’t just put your tomatoes in glass bottles, so that we could be together again.

Even the FDA has recommended limiting BPA for children, even if they're too wimpy to outlaw it entirely. And then there was that bombshell study published in Pediatrics, which (although it was a small study with a couple of flaws) has implications even more dramatic than I ever would have imagined.

So you were the last one I expected to pop up on twitter a few months ago, with a note just for me:

 

To which I said:

 

And then you said… nothing.  For months.

Listen, I’m flattered by this semi-recent gesture—really I am. And I do love progress. But I hope you know it’s going to take a little extra love to heal the rift between us.  If the problem is on its way to being solved, I’m going to have more than a few questions about how. If your new cans are BPA free, great. But I’m going to need to know what else might be in there. Is it something more stable? Less chemically interesting? Would I be able to spell it on the first try?

Parents’ trust of corporations has changed in the last decade. Remember when fast food restaurants felt free to advertise their “secret sauce?” Those days are over. We can’t take any more secrets, please. We’re more alert now. More knowing. So if you have an improvement to make, let it be good and thorough.

I’ve had my heart broken once already. I’m not going to go through that again. 

Tentatively yours,

S.P.

Is it Lunch, or Is It a Game?

I am made slightly uneasy by the trend toward cute food.

This is difficult to admit, because I don't want to squelch others' fun. But I'm uncomfortable with the message that sandwiches are tastier if they're cut into a heart shape, or that crackers need to be adorable.

Recently, Pepperidge Farm introduced fish-shaped bread, which sells at my local store for $4.65 per pound, as opposed to $2.66/lb for the same brand's sliced bread. The fish bread promises a "deliciously soft texture and fun, crust free shape!" The cynical girl in me hears: the inmates are running the asylum. 

But my kids are 6 and 8 already, and they're both tremendously flexible eaters. So when my kindergartener asked if he could make the "tic tac toe" sandwich he found in his "cookbook" I said yes. 

A couple of years ago I mentioned to another mother that a certain type of shaped cracker had a nice, clean ingredients list. But she said "I don't buy shaped food." It was the first time I ever heard another mom share my grinchy hesitation. And while I adore food blogs, the proliferation of top shelf food styling and photography can feed our insecurities. A midday gander at Pinterest suggests every cupcake should resemble the face of a perfectly cheerful monkey, and every bowl of oatmeal should sport a raisin and raspberry smile.

If there's a gene which makes people acknowledge the appeal of cute food, I may be missing it. But--hang on--I had it too as a child. I remember begging my mother to let me make "candle salad," wherein half a banana stood on its cut surface, projecting from a canned pineapple ring. There may have been a "flame" made from a maraschino cherry and cool whip. As gross as that sounds, I once felt about it the way I now feel about fresh guacamole. (Come to mama!)

My son enjoyed the work of cutting ham and cheese into thin strips with a real knife, and didn't make a stink when they kept breaking. The cheesy Xs had an advantage on the diagonal of this sandwich, but then they melted under the broiler. Even that didn't ruin his fun. 

And then? He ate the whole thing.

Locally Produced Gin? Come to Mama

You all know how much I like to write about local entrepreneurs, and to taste their wares. Could it be that I have a kind of localvore karma built up by now, after a steady diet of Vermont grass fed beef, naturally raised poultry and local cheeses? 

I think I must.

Imagine my pleasure at finding samples of Barr Hill Gin and Vodka at the so-called Discount Liquor store in tony Manchester Center, VT. I didn't actually taste the gin then as I was on my way to the delightful Northshire Bookstore for a reading and signing. It's not a great idea to turn up at ones' own bookstore events tipsy, even if tipsy on glorious local hooch.

The distillery's website describes the gin as: "a celebration of our special connection to the land. We use pure grain spirits as a canvas to showcase juniper berry and raw northern honey. Added just before bottling, the raw honey imparts unique floral qualities that vary with season and blossom."

The grain comes from Buttermilk Farms, which also grows the oats we like to use in our homemade granola. The bottles are sealed with (what else?) bees wax.

And the gin is wonderful. "Almost a shame to add tonic," my husband insists. 

It's a shame for him, perhaps. But I find it delightful.

Food Styling Gone Wrong

One of the fun things about watching The Ski House Cookbook transform from a document on my computer to a book was the food styling. I really enjoyed watching the fabulous Margarette Adams at work. But good food styling is incredibly time consuming, and not every photo shoot has the same ideals. During the pre-holiday run-up, when my newspaper is full of retailers' flyers, there are many rushed style jobs to be spotted. 

Am I the only one who notices these things? There's some really good humor here. For example: raw peaches on a skillet at Kohl's! How practical.

And Walmart's intended puree of raw yellow squash, escarole, tomatoes and herbs, yum!:

This one may be my favorite--a juicer so marvelous that you can put an apple in it, and get orange juice out of the bottom:

I always cook artichokes whole, in a skillet, like they do at Macy's:

And sometimes the problem is just over-reaching. When you cook a whole chicken in a slow cooker (and you really shouldn't) it has no shot of ever looking like a store-bought rotisserie chicken surrounded by raw vegetables:

Well, that was fun. I'm off to style a more realistic lunch for myself. Bon apetit!

Tomatoes Please. Hold the BPA.

It's officially chili season, people. And another year has gone by wherein there are no better BPA-free canned tomato products on the market. I've been ramping up my gardening, but I'm nowhere near canning all of our own tomatoes yet.

So what's a chili-loving girl to do?

There are some companies, notably Eden Organics, who can beans and other vegetables in BPA free cans. When I'm not using dried beans, I always turn to Eden.

But the acidity of tomatoes means that even Eden can't make a BPA free canned tomato product. Scanning high and low, I've come up with a scant three BPA free products. First there's Pomi, in a tetra-pak. The container is not recyclable or compostable, but it is BPA free. In glass jars, I've found BioNaturae and a brand called Cirio. 

BioNaturae is found in many East Coast shops, and their pasta is--hands down--my favorite organic brand. The tomatoes are the priciest choice and only come in a very well pureed texture. Pomi's "chopped" product is a more traditional chili texture. 

The Cirio brand has a texture in between the other two. Problem: these are not sold in my town. It is an Italian import which I found at Fairway in New York City, a store full of quirky European brands that aren't widely available.

Why aren't there more glass containers? A BPA discussion over at Groovy Green Livin' brought up this question, with a less than satisfying answer from a representative of Annie's products--that glass is heavy and difficult to transport.

True. But it's also oh so recyclable. I argue that it's more efficient to can tomatoes in 24 ounce jars than it ever will be to put baby food in 3 ounce jars. And I don't hear any companies suggesting that baby food should soon appear in BPA lined cans.

Dear Muir Glen (owned by giant General Mills) I'm talking to you! Your pasta sauces reach my store in glass jars. Please, please consider putting those tomato products in glass, too. 

Enough, already.

Never Make Just One Lasagna

A Lasagna's Eye View of My Kitchen

Almost 20 years ago, my smart friend (and Ski House Cookbook co-author) Tina taught me this valuable life lesson: never make just one lasagna.

See, lasagna is no small effort. I'm sure we could point our browsers to several dozen fabulous food blogs right now where even more artful foods are prepared, styled and photographed twice a day. (The 8-layer faux asparagus cake springs to mind.) But at 1.5 hours in the kitchen, lasagna is about as labor intensive as I can fathom on a weeknight. That's why I always make two: one for tonight, and one for the freezer.

Now, isn't that good advice? One night, this month or next, I'll use my get-out-of-jail free card, which will be waiting in the freezer. And that will feel great.

The following recipe is large enough to make two lasagnas, each one will serve 4-6. 

(I don't have two identical pans, so one of them goes in a 9x13 glass pyrex dish and the other in a square pan with higher sides. Feel free to improvise.)

Here's my straight up meat-and-red-sauce recipe:

Ingredients

cooking oil
1 large onion, diced
2 lbs (humanely raised grass fed organic Vermont) ground beef
2 large or 4 small garlic cloves
1 32oz tub of ricotta cheese
2 eggs, slightly beaten
3/4 cup parmesan cheese
12 oz. no-boil lasagna noodles (or regular noodles, cooked)
1 and a half 32 ounce jars of marinara sauce
8 ounces shredded mozzerella

Instructions

Preheat the oven to 350. Heat the oil in a skillet and saute the onion until beginning to brown. Add the beef and garlic. Crumble and cook until no longer pink.

Meanwhile, combine the ricotta, eggs and 1/2 cup of the parmesan. Set aside.

Spoon just enough sauce into both baking dishes to barely cover the bottom. Cover with noodles. Then spread 1/4 of the ricotta mixture over the noodles first in one dish and then the other. Set aside the other half of the cheese mixture. Cover cheese mixture with another layer of noodles.

Spread the cooked meat evenly over the noodles in both pans, serving all of it out. Next apply about 1/3 of the total amount of sauce. Cover with another layer of noodles. Spread the remaining ricotta next. Add another layer of noodles. Cover with a generous layer of sauce, and then sprinkle with shredded mozzerella.

Cover one lasagna with foil and bake 30 minutes covered and 30 minutes uncovered. Serve hot, with the remaining parmesan cheese.

The other lasagna: cover with foil and freeze. When frozen, wrap tightly in plastic wrap or a plastic bag and replace in the freezer. Cook as above, but for 50 minutes covered and perhaps 30-45 uncovered. Lasagna is cooked when a knife inserted into the middle comes out hot.

Review: The River Cottage Preserves Handbook by Pam Corbin

As I admitted before, I've always been a little afraid of preserving things. But since my husband planted 50 fruit trees and shrubs last year, I'd better figure it out before we're buried in overripe fruit. (Many of his darlings are still infants, so at least I've got a couple of years to educate myself.)

I was seduced by The River Cottage Preserves Handbook because of its beauty. I tucked it under my arm in the bookstore like a lost kitten, and never quite put it down again until the checkout counter. The still life photography of preserves in simple jars is extraordinarily attractive. The book's design is also gorgeous.

But worried that I'd succumbed to a pretty face at the expense of substance. Would this full price hardcover beauty be a good worker too? Things looked up as the bookseller handed back my credit card. "I love this book. The mint syrup is to die for."

I had nothing to fear. The Making Perfect Jams instructions were concise and supportive, and taught me things that I haven't read in any other book about canning. Did you know that tougher fruit skins will not soften properly if you add the sugar immediately? I, for one, did not.  The science of jamming and jellying is laid out nicely here, and I appreciate the table showing the pectin content of different fruits.  I can't wait to try the fruit leathers.

The recipes are quite adventurous. Apple lemon curd? Roasted Sweet Beet Relish? Yes, please.  I especially appreciate the section on cordials. Elderflower cordial! Come to mama.

The only hesitation I had after a thorough read was that the book was first published in the UK, and then converted. So the amounts of fruits nearly always read: "2.25 pounds plums," for example.  That's a kilo, people. Caught you! But then I realized that this quick conversion is less troubling in a book on preserves than anyplace else. When we pick our own fruit, it surely doesn't come to us in even poundage.

I'm smitten. And my kitchen scale is happy to take up the slack.

Strawberry Blueberry Jam

I have to admit that I've always been a little fearful of preserving things. My husband refers to me as Food Safety Girl. I've been known to stand in front of the refrigerator scrutinizing leftover breasts of chicken, as if they were suspected of terrorist activities. With food safety, there's a fine line between cautious and crazy, and it's anyone's guess which side I'm on.

So preserving fruit has always sounded a little scary, and reading about it is doubly so.  Most canning books make frequent use of the words "botulism" and "bacteria." They don't really put me in the happy experimental mood necessary to dive into a new recipe.

But I overcame my fear this past week and made Strawberry Blueberry jam from berries we'd picked. (The strawberries were picked in june, and I'd frozen two cups of berry halves.) And... wow! This is a recipe I'm sure to repeat next year.

2 cups halved strawberries (defrosted)
4 cups blueberries
3 cups white sugar
The juice of 1 lemon

I cooked the fruit, sugar and lemon juice for more than a half hour, while sterilizing the jars in boiling water. Because I don't like the way blueberries fail to spread in jam, I actually pulsed my stick blender into the simmering jam. I put a saucer in the freezer for a while, then dropped a teaspoon of my thickening jam onto it. When I saw that this gelled, I knew the jam was ready.

With a funnel, I filled the jars to 1/4 inch from the top and sealed them.  Et voila.  The leftover bit was allowed to cool in a stray jar, and we ate it the next day.  Wonderful!  Like heaven on toast.