Announcing the 2019 Julia Child Student Writing Awards
Congratulations to Gastronomy students Ilana Hardesty and Sarah Hartwig, winners of the 2019 Julia Child Student Writing Awards.
Ilana Hardesty was recognized for her paper written for Dr. Karen Metheny’s Cookbooks and History class, ‘Tracing Communities Through Recipes’, in which she analyzed Armenian community cookbooks to understand the complexities of diaspora communities in the US.
Sarah Hartwig was recognized for her essay submitted in Dr. Megan Elias’ Readings in Food History class, ‘Out of the Closet and Into the Kitchen: History, Food and Queer Identity’ which addresses the paucity of research on food in the Queer community.
In lieu of a springtime awards ceremony, please join us in virtual toast to the awardees while you enjoy Gastronomy Program director Megan Elias’s interview with Ilana and Sarah:
The Julia Child Student Writing Awards recognize academic excellence in the Gastronomy Program. Each year instructors are asked to nominate several students on the basis of the best final paper or project they have received. Winners receive a certificate and a cash award, made possible by the support of the Julia Child Foundation.
Portions Within the Restaurant Industry
Students in Steve Finn's spring special topics course on Food Waste (MET ML702 E1) are contributing this month's blog posts. Today's post is from Victoria Collins.
Many individuals are aware of the food waste issue in some capacity. Whether you tend to purchase a bit more groceries than you need each week, take more than you need at a buffet, or you’re one of those people who tend to make way more food than necessary during a family gathering in fear that there won’t be enough; many of us can relate to food waste guilt. One issue that particularly interests me is food waste within the restaurant industry. It may come as a surprise that those in the professional food industry still contribute to the food waste issue. Looking back at my camera roll, I noticed a huge difference in portion size depending on which restaurants I took photos at. I was particularly intrigued by a side by side pasta photo collage, pictured below. The photo on the left was taken at Michael Chiarello’s Napa Valley restaurant, Bottega. The photo on the right was taken at Gibbet Hill Grill, in Groton, MA.
Both of these were delicious pasta dishes at a comparable price, made with quality ingredients. The major difference, as you can see for yourself, was the portion size. The pasta dish at Bottega probably aligns with the actual recommended serving size of pasta. It featured such a rich and decadent veal Bolognese sauce, that the small portion was fitting for the sauce and ended up being very filling. On the opposite spectrum, the pasta dish at Gibbet Hill Grill was very large and almost impossible to finish in one sitting. It was a delicious beef stroganoff pasta dish with meaty mushrooms and earthy chives throughout. The sinful yet delicious sauce was so filling on its own, that the massive amount of pasta paired with it, made it truly too large of a dish to eat. I took half of it home because who doesn’t like delicious leftovers the next day? Unfortunately, I noticed that many people in the restaurant were allowing for the waiting staff to clear their plates with a lot of uneaten food left on their plates.
According to The State of Food and Agriculture: Moving Forward on Food Loss and Waste Reduction, written in 2019, “Food waste is the result of purchasing decisions by consumers, or decisions by retailers and food service providers that affect consumer behavior” (4). If food waste can be improved upon through both the consumer and the food service provider, we can attack the issue from various angles. One way that both the consumer and food service provider can help to reduce food waste is through portion control. Restaurants can provide portion options to their customers. This would benefit the consumer through a decrease in price and through food waste control. Offering customers either a half portion or full portion is a great solution to cutting back on excess food waste. If an individual enters a restaurant and wants a lot of pasta or a full sized salad, they have the option to order that specific size. On the flip side, if someone isn’t as hungry and wants something a bit smaller, they can reduce their spending cost as well as food waste. Some restaurants are already offering various portions but if we extend this across the board, I believe we can significantly reduce food waste within the restaurant industry.
Another idea for restaurants is to promote doggy bags and taking excess food home. If restaurants automatically assume that their customers would like to box up their extra food, they are doing their part in helping to reduce food waste. I have been to many restaurants where they automatically take your plate when they assume you are finished with your food. They skip over the step of asking you if you would like to take the rest home. If more restaurants promote this type of behavior, customers will start to assume that anything they don’t finish will be boxed up for them to take home. Even something as simple as the extra bread at the table can be boxed up and taken home for the next morning’s breakfast toast or a late night vehicle for a grilled cheese. These simple recommendations can help to improve our fight against food waste and also create a more mindful atmosphere surrounding food in restaurants.
Control, Alt Delete: Musings about Hoarding and Food Waste
Students in Steve Finn's spring special topics course on Food Waste (MET ML702 E1) are contributing this month's blog posts. Today's post is from Molly Breiling.
How I operate as a culinary professional, does not necessarily mirror my day to day, household practices. When I have job for an individual, or group, I must design a menu based upon what the client desires, married with what makes sense for the particular season and setting. Cost and price are significant factors and staying with the plan is essential. I try to source ingredients on a wholesale basis, and begin preparations well prior to the event. When I am tasked with feeding the inhabitants of our home, I market daily and for the most part devise menus and food planning around what looks good to me. I place an emphasis on fresh vegetables and fruits, and moderate portions of proteins. I do keep a fairly well stocked pantry, even if stored in less than traditional spaces; the coat closet shelf is an overflow space. Impulses, at times, get the best of me, causing me to have more than ample supply of one item or another. Through creativity, this is rarely a difficulty, and does not often create waste. If it cannot be consumed by this crew, the item will be given to a friend or acquaintance who will benefit from the infusion.
Fairly early into the appearance of Covid 19 in Massachusetts, I was at the market for a sortie. What I encountered was nothing less than astounding. I can safely say that I have never, ever, witnessed the behaviors to which I was exposed. Patrons had carts that were full to the brim, with items. Some patrons commanded two carts. Bare shelves abounded. No poultry products, virtually no dairy products, no paper products, cleaning supplies, first aid items, soups, or much in the way of fresh proteins existed. 
I was raised during the cold war. I have experienced the gas crisis in the early seventies which resulted in rationing and long lines. I recall when sugar was difficult to source, and when meat was both in short supply and highly priced. I was the parent of an infant living “inside the Beltway” on September 11, 2000, when there was a run on batteries, sterno, dry goods and the like. This experience couldn’t compare to any of those. All at once it gave me pause, and reminded me of food shortage issues in Russia in the eighties, as well as stories told to me by relatives who lived during the depression, or World War I or World War II. The difference is that, currently, we do have choice in the matter!
Adding insult to injury, I would bet the farm, if I had one, that a large percentage of the foods purchased, strike that hoarded, will end up wasted. Further, that they will likely land in the garbage. Panicked, impulse purchases, without any type of plan in place will not only lead to items expiring, or timing out in the case of some packaged goods, it will lead to foods in the freezer that may never be utilized. Emotional purchasing is not planned, well thought out, purchasing. Atop the gross quantity of waste in terms of time, resources and actual food, there is another uncomfortable reality. Food that is hoarded is now inaccessible to other persons, some of whom are food insecure, and/or marginalized in some manner. These behaviors are harming the overall environment and exhibit irresponsible use of resources. Further, such actions potentially place a neighbor in need at even further risk.
Food Recovery in Granero Central: Gleaning in Santa Marta Colombia
Students in Steve Finn's spring special topics course on Food Waste (MET ML702 E1) are contributing this month's blog posts. Today's post is from James Lysons.
The hungry men were seen, followed by their valets, roaming the quais and guards' quarters; gleaning from their outside friends all the dinners they could find; for, according to Aramis, in prosperity one should sow meals right and left, in order to harvest some in adversity.
~ Alexandre Dumas
On vacation in Santa Marta, Colombia, a coastal city east of Cartagena of around a half million people, I took an afternoon, accompanied by a guide, to visit an example of locals gleaning in the Granero Central, the public market of the city. Sebastian (my guide) was proud of his city and assured me that the locals waste little food at the market.
Knowing that I was a Caucasian tourist (a “gringo”) there for the single purpose of observing locals and taking pictures, Sebastian suggested just driving by to observe, within the security of tinted automobile windows.
The market was bustling, with vendors selling fish, produce, textiles, and general goods on tables that lined the streets. Driving in what seemed like circles, Sebastian slowly positioned our car to enable observation of the spectacle he was so proud of. To the left side of the car were large dumpsters, each with several men rummaging through what appeared to be trash bags and food scraps. On the outside of the dumpsters were people instructing what the men should look for. We passed them twice and, on the last lap, I saw a cardboard box newly positioned on a cart containing salvaged celery. It appeared perfectly fine and edible.
Sebastian explained that these rummagers (technically, gleaners) salvage the reusable goods and sell them in the stalls a few meters from the dumpsters at a fraction of the cost of the same items found in the market next door. Their customers are a “lower-class” group of people. Although neither governed nor regulated the system of salvaging works -- it is simple. It provides an ample supply of food for this group of people struggling with limited income and resources. When contrasted with the gleaning that is popularized in Vancouver, Canada, this system is relatively profitable and has created a community. I felt it was the sense of community that largely made the process function and so my inclination was to accept it.
The Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs), as outlined by the UN, are missing a kind of mortar that might bind all the SDG initiatives as one: a mortar which earlier incarnations of UN development work took more into account when dealing with what it termed “the informal sector.” There are lessons we can learn from the rummagers and vendors in Santa Marta. The community appeared to be the mortar at the Granero General, offering an additional dimension to the issue of food waste while also creating an informal sector community alongside the “official” food market. How can such a “community” become a priority, on a global scale, while outside of the “normal” corporate and government channels, regulations, and controls? After all, in much of the “developing world” significant percentages of the population work, live, and exist throughout their lives in the so-called informal sector. How can we not only accept but find ways to support such a sector while important corporate and government entities deny (or at least fail to act on) the matter of climate change; while powerful religious organizations promote an anti-vaccination agenda; and other industries insist, still, on their right to reduce fish to the brink of extinction?
The perfect answer or solution remains to be seen. Still, these challenges inspire creativity to foster a sense of community that may oppose such denial and/or “anti-this and that.”
We watch the world come together, slowly, amid the zombie-like apocalypse called COVID-19. Must we wait for a food shortage for the world to come together to solve the food-waste problem? The signs are everywhere, and the writing is on the wall.
My experience in Santa Marta, although short, was inspiring.
The Fine Line Between Generosity and Waste
Students in Steve Finn's spring special topics course on Food Waste (MET ML702 E1) are contributing this month's blog posts. Today's post is from Anne Howard.
Doesn’t this look like a feast? At this Chicago Korean barbecue restaurant, grilling your own food is only part of the draw. (That’s marinated octopus cooking on the tabletop grill in the center.) It’s when the server brings out the banchan, small side dishes, that the fun begins—and keeps going and going. The dishes just keep coming: kimchi, of course; salads of cucumbers, broccoli, and potato; and preparations of vegetables like lotus root, bean sprouts, radish, and eggplant. Diners don’t order banchan; they are chosen and provided by the restaurant. Our party of five, including two children (whose faces are covered in the photo), received thirty-one small dishes of banchan.
This was impressive, and certainly made it feel like a celebratory meal. But seeing more dishes than could fit in a single layer on the table also triggered my food waste radar. It caused me to consider how subjective the idea of waste can be. What looks like wasteful behavior to some might look like generosity to others. I wanted to think through my own subjective, culturally-based view of what constitutes food waste and reflect on how my thinking and actions contribute to the problem.
According to Food Cultures of the World, “the Korean table is communal; all side dishes are shared. Koreans are very social eaters and love eating with family, friends or coworkers.” (Albala 2011, 141) Though meals at my home are also served family-style, the dishes are fewer, which made this spread feel excessive. Experiences at other restaurants conditioned me to expect eight to twelve different banchan (even fewer are common at in-home meals (Cwiertka 2003)), so I was surprised by the number of dishes the first time I dined at this particular restaurant.
Cecelia Hae-Jin Lee, quoted in HuffPost, notes that when it comes to banchan at home, “whatever isn’t used is saved for the next meal—so it’s not a waste.” (Bratskeir 2017) This would not meet health codes in a restaurant, however, and as banchan can be difficult to take home as leftovers, more is discarded. As Jonathan Bloom, author of American Wasteland: How America Throws Away Nearly Half of Its Food (and What We Can Do About It), points out, American restaurants serve ever-increasing portions, and that “chefs want what they serve to appear generous.” (Bloom 2010, 133) Americans seem to believe that quantity equals value. The more on offer, however, the more opportunity for waste. In this case, even though the serving of each banchan was small, they added up to a large volume.
However, restaurant owners are always looking for ways to trim costs. Decreasing plate waste saves money on ingredients, labor, utilities and disposal. Even in a cultural setting where multiple small dishes are an important part of the meal, restaurant owners can look for ways to cut back on waste. Our table was served multiple dishes of the same item, for instance, which is unnecessary if the restaurant has a policy of allowing free refills on banchan, as many do. Noting this policy on the menu informs first-time patrons and might also encourage returning customers to ask the server not to bring any banchan the customer doesn’t want to eat, knowing they can have more of the ones they like.
So, is this a picture of waste or of hospitality? It is fair to say we over-ordered because, as first-time patrons, we weren’t prepared for the serving sizes or number of side dishes. It is also possible to argue that, while generous, the restaurant is providing too much banchan for a party of five. We took home most of the banchan remaining at the end of the meal, as well as the grilled meat and the cauldron of seafood stew at the bottom of the photo, which made four more meals. I think this picture shows opportunity—to be more cognizant, as eaters or restaurateurs, of what we can be doing to save food from going to waste.
References
Albala, Ken, ed. 2011. Food Cultures of the World Encyclopedia – Asia and Oceania: Volume 3. Santa Barbara: ABC-CLIO, LLC. Accessed March 20, 2020. ProQuest Ebook Central.
Bloom, Jonathan. 2010. American Wasteland: How America Throws Away Nearly Half of Its Food (and What We Can Do About It). Da Capo Press: Cambridge, Massachusetts.
Bratskeir, Kate. 2017. “A Guide to Banchan, Those Delicious Side Dishes Served at Korean Restaurants.” HuffPost, December 6, 2017. https://www.huffpost.com/entry/korean-bbq-banchan_n_6146600?guccounter=1&guce_referrer=aHR0cHM6Ly93d3cuZ29vZ2xlLmNvbS8&guce_referrer_sig=AQAAAMGQt4ulaXmaX9KbKAfKjxrNosA2mvkYol3mBto1lvCfquylwKXJQS0EK2EGiIrMxSyiftYAWPe65q9fs7BnpC3JEDoQIr15ezo6lHuYMN311xz4NUxqNA702Gwc0pTb3rU_dCl7YpaIaQCKJFA0JWTIeluZ8HBIQNO9zFV7Sjtf.
Cwiertka, Katarzyna J. "Korea." In Encyclopedia of Food and Culture, edited by Solomon H. Katz, 336-341. Vol. 2. New York, NY: Charles Scribner's Sons, 2003. Gale In Context: U.S. History (accessed March 20, 2020). https://link.gale.com/apps/doc/CX3403400370/GPS?u=mlin_b_bumml&sid=GPS&xid=8892c340.
Food Obsession and Overconsumption
Students in Steve Finn's spring special topics course on Food Waste (MET ML702 E1) are contributing this month's blog posts. Today's post is from Wiley McCarthy.
Food waste discussions generally focus on the UN Sustainable Development Goal (SDG) 12.3: “By 2030, halve per capita global food waste at the retail and consumer levels and reduce food losses along production and supply chains, including post-harvest losses” (www.champions123.org). Recommended solutions include gleaning unharvested crops, redistributing surplus prepared meals from restaurants and schools, and transporting manufacturers’ and retailers’ surplus stock to food banks. BUT, what about considering individual overconsumption as a form of food waste? Let me be clear that I am not attacking the visibly overweight: a veteran myself of myriad forms of disordered eating, I confidently assert that those ranging from seriously underweight to morbidly obese can experience malnourishment and serious health issues when they find themselves sucked into a pattern of overconsumption. The attendant physical and mental illnesses fall under the aegis of SDG 3.4 “By 2030, reduce by one third premature mortality from non-communicable diseases through prevention and treatment and promote mental health and well-being” (www.who.int).
In Obsession, (Weinstein Books, 2013), by Mika Brzezinski and Dianne Smith, the authors discuss their personal food histories. Mika’s story involved food restriction, periodic “binge-ing,” and exercise bulimia, while Diane’s encompassed yo-yo dieting, regular overeating, lack of exercise, and health issues. Despite vastly different behaviors, their food obsession shared a focus on shame, willpower, and hunger. Public opinion would blame each for weakness, lack of discipline (or conversely, OCD), or poor personal accountability; yet, environmental factors contributed to their food issues.
How did a pattern of constant, non-nutritious eating develop in the United States? First, a misguided emphasis on low-fat foods since the 1970s prompted food manufacturers to increase the carbohydrate (read SUGAR) content of their products. After all, if tasty fat is removed, something must be added to make the foods palatable. As we prioritized convenience, ease of preparation, and shelf-stable food storage, whole foods were increasingly processed, destroying nutrients and reducing fiber content. Food manufacturers opted for inexpensive high fructose corn syrup to save money, trans fats to extend shelf life, artificial flavorings and colors to increase products’ “curb appeal,” chemical preservatives and stabilizers to retard spoilage, and physical manipulation of whole foods (grinding, pulping, mashing) to form identical easily-packaged shapes. Many of these foods, in handy packages with shiny pictures and eye-catching logos, were geared for convenient (read CONSTANT) snack or other non-mealtime consumption.
Then we arrive at what I consider the single most important factor—the ubiquity of food in American society. In an observable change in social mores during the last 35 years, we now eat in our cars, in libraries, on the street, in our beds, at our desks, at sporting events, during movies, in class, on the subway, on the couch, and–well, you probably recognize yourself in one of these situations. Food, particularly the highly processed (and thus infinitely palatable) substances, is everywhere. For those subject to carbohydrate or sugar addiction, it’s like an alcoholic walking through a pub all day. Both foodies and dieters are allowed to obsess and make wildly random or restrictive food choices, however. Food is an acceptable drug.
How can we continue weight-shaming our neighbors and ourselves when we suffer a 24/7 barrage of enticing non-foods? We face gum and cookies at the grocery checkout; pretzels and candy at the Staples checkout; chocolate bars at the department store lingerie counter (!)—all legitimizing consumption of carbohydrate, sugar, and fat concoctions anytime, anywhere. Most will face willpower fatigue at some point and give in to these foods that contribute nothing but the classic “empty calories” to our diets. If we do not recognize the dangerous role ubiquitous food plays in our modern lives, we will continue to waste food by making it less nutritious and by overconsuming it to the detriment of our health.
We face a public health crisis of proliferating diet- and weight-related diseases, particularly diabetes, heart disease, weight-related orthopedic issues, non-alcoholic fatty liver disease, and a range of mental health issues accompanying body dysmorphia and food obsessions. As these run rampant— often invisibly—in the United States, the increase is being replicated abroad as more nations adopt the SAD (standard American diet). The SDG 12.3 framework encompasses the waste of foods being processed into non-nutritive substances and the waste (in decreased availability to others) of overconsumption on an individual basis. Under SDG 3.4, diet-related illnesses qualify as chronic non-communicable diseases. Let’s put a stop to both.
Shopping for a Pandemic
Students in Karen Metheny's Anthropology of Food (MET ML641) class are contributing posts this month. Today's post is by David Ginivisian.
The rapid spread of Covid-19 and the resulting human response is cause for the end of the world as we knew it. Without being alarmist, my point is this: this pandemic will represent a crossroads in history, dividing how the world was before the outbreak and how the world will reconfigure in the years that follow. Both individual and collective reactions to this crisis will have far-reaching consequences causing sweeping changes in our ways of life.
Coronavirus first began to impact my lifestyle March 12. The school system in which I teach High School Culinary Arts had been ordered shut down for two days for ‘deep cleaning’. This was the beginning of an evolving response to the growing concern. These bonus days off allowed me to catch up on errands while my wife and daughter were working and attending their respective schools. It was quickly evident that my routine trip to the grocery store would be anything but.
It was Wednesday morning and the store was unusually full with customers. Upon entering, mindful customers lined up for what was now an obligatory sanitizing wipe for their cart and hands. Some shoppers donned gloves to avoid direct contact with potential germs. Foreshadowing the weeks to come, the high volume of customers crowded the aisles with overflowing shopping carts. While large crowds shopping with fervor are nothing new to those who frequent Market Basket, on this day the scene was strangely different.
The growing volume of shoppers was not dissimilar to a pre-blizzard shopping frenzy; still, something was awry. People were not moving about the store as they normally did. The flow was out of step with the usual pattern of cart traffic. Concerned store goers were showing signs of panic evident in their altered regular habits. Shoppers were abandoning their usual routes and routines. Haphazard movements caused traffic jams at every corner. Customers leaving carts to grab-n-go created a jaywalking effect on the line of traffic. Impromptu U-turns, backtracking, and exploring unfamiliar aisles all contributed to the slowdowns.
The Salem, MA store was populated with the usual diverse clientele, all with a shared objective: to stockpile necessities and niceties for an extended time. Some shopped in tandem, enlisting a divide and conquer approach of grabbing goods for one or two carts. Darting through the traffic, they would occasionally rendezvous to plan their next move. One of the ‘Dads’ (eyes glazed like a deer in the headlights), appeared to have been dispatched to run ‘Mom’s’ errand only to find himself engulfed in the fray. Senior citizens moved cautiously, pulling over to let the faster carts by. Some parents, with a sudden need to shop for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, were stocking up. Others had to bulk up home inventory for the anticipated arrival of college students' unexpected homecoming. Usual shopping strategies interrupted and abandoned became the norm, instead navigating as quickly as the congested aisles would allow.
As one would now realize, the sanitizing products aisle had long been cleaned out. Most goods had been seemingly well stocked, but the relentless wave of shoppers would ultimately pick the shelves bare. The checkout line began to wrap around the store. The logjam left many in line for over one hour. I’m pleased to report that while there appeared to be mayhem, there was no malice. Fellow consumers collectively recognized that this was unchartered territory - extraordinary circumstances - and everyone was in the same boat. Examples of these shopping frenzies quickly posted to all media. Was it hoarding or simply stockpiling resources as a precaution? Some have described these behaviors as irrational, unethical, inappropriate, even shameful. Was it socially irresponsible to take more than one’s “fair share?” Who is to say?
The food industry, in particular, is suffering on all counts. Distribution systems have been compromised. Restaurants are either closed or struggling to remain viable, offering takeout, curb-side pickup, and delivery. Alarmed consumers now rely more than ever on the local supermarkets for provisions. The stores, in turn, are working tirelessly to stem the tide of overwhelming demand while addressing mounting concerns about how to keep all food and people safe.
Creativity and Collective Action amidst the COVID-19 Crisis
Students in Steve Finn's spring special topics course on Food Waste (MET ML702 E1) are contributing this month's blog posts. Today's post is from Stacey Terlik.
There is no doubt that the coronavirus has impacted your life these past few weeks. It is a global pandemic that is changing all aspects of our society and has the potential to impact future policy. As a Gastronomy student, focusing on food policy, I cannot help but question: how will this pandemic influence food policies and future sustainable development goals? How will it affect food waste practices of corporations, businesses, and consumers? Will it perpetuate the problem of food waste? Or will it be a wakeup call about the fragility of our world?
It is evidenced by the empty shelves in grocery stores that people are buying way more than they would ever need during this unprecedented situation. There has been a rush on supermarkets, with people stocking up on foods they consider essential: canned, prepackaged, and processed foods. This undoubtedly will lead to a higher percentage of packaging waste then if people were strictly buying fresh foods. Moreover, once this crisis passes, what will happen to this overstock? Based on current food practices, it is likely these foods will go to waste and people will revert to their typical habits. However, it is possible that our society will learn from this experience and begin to place greater value on food and the environment.
In Sara Roversi’s presentation at the COVID-19 Virtual Summit, she frames the pandemic as an opportunity to reset, reconnect, and re-understand the power of food. She cites chef, Massimo Bottura, who asserts that “This virus has the power to make visible the invisible.”[1] While of course, this situation is a forced cultural reset, it creates the time and space to encourage individuals to think differently about food. People have to be creative with what is in their pantries, and they also have the extra time to access to cookbooks/ tutorials to learn how to can, preserve, and pickle produce in order to eliminate waste and ensure future nutrition.
Food creativity can also extend beyond the consumer level during this pandemic. We have seen innovative solutions by restaurants that have moved to takeout, created family meal boxes, or have sold out their inventory in attempts to sustain revenue and prevent food waste. In this same vein, because restaurants, businesses, and schools have been forced to close their doors, we have witnessed people taking care of each other in regard to food. Many organizations are distributing lunches to children in need and delivery services are transporting meals to vulnerable populations.
This notion of taking care of one another can be transformed from local to global food policies and systems. As Roversi stated, moving from “design thinking” to “prosperity thinking” can impact the ways in which we think about food difference, inclusion, diplomacy, and the environment.[2] While we may have to physically distance ourselves from one another right now, we still have the capacity to build an evolved food community that can positively impact global Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). SDG 12.3 states: "By 2030, halve per capita global food waste at the retail and consumer levels and reduce food losses along production and supply chains, including post-harvest losses."[3] My recommendation during this time of quarantine is to focus on the consumer aspects of this goal, as this is where advocacy and change can begin.
While we have the time and space, let’s reconnect to our roots, attempt to eat locally, experiment with new recipes, and use all the components of our food. The wild part is that with technology, we can all do this together. We can reach out to family and friends to make and eat dinner together over FaceTime or Skype. We can share recipes and cooking demonstrations over social media; it is all quite literally at our fingertips.
The biggest challenge for consumers will be the desire to return to their former food habits after this crisis. Of course, everyone is craving some semblance of normalcy, but let’s create a new normal of being intentional with our food procurement, production, and waste practices. While it may sound overly optimistic in the face of this trying time, simply modifying our food habits and taking care of one another can move us towards achieving each one of our interconnected SDGs.
[1] COVID-19 Virtual Summit - Day 2 - How Do Global Epidemics Affect the Future of Food? W/Sara Roversi. n.d. Accessed March 19, 2020. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J6eyuBl25ig.
[2] COVID-19 Virtual Summit - Day 2 - How Do Global Epidemics Affect the Future of Food? W/Sara Roversi. n.d. Accessed March 19, 2020. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J6eyuBl25ig.
[3] “12.3.1 Global Food Losses | Sustainable Development Goals | Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations.” Accessed March 20, 2020. http://www.fao.org/sustainable-development-goals/indicators/1231/en/.
I Didn’t Order That: How Freebies are Adding on to Food Waste.
Students in Steve Finn's spring special topics course on Food Waste (MET ML702 E1) are contributing this month's blog posts. The first in this series is from Christina Grace Setio.
If you have ever dined out to a Korean, Mexican, or European restaurant, chances are you have gotten some type of a freebie. Specifically, the food items served free of charge as you patiently wait for your meal. This practice is now so culturally instilled that most servers don’t even ask if you actually want it, they just assume it can’t do much damage to just serve it. While it is a gesture most customers appreciate, some argue that they would rather be charged for a more palatable and better-quality product. How often are these food items left unfinished? Regardless of whether it has been touched or not, food safety regulations prohibit any food that has been placed on a customer’s table to be reused. Now, this may not be an issue if everyone takes away and finishes any leftovers at home. However, a study by Brian Wansink of Cornell University shows that 55% of leftovers at restaurants are not taken home, this just adds to the many other food waste issues that happen within a restaurant. Now you may ask, isn’t it fine if they just compost the food? While this is a better solution than landfill, think about of all the wasted natural resources used in growing food that goes to waste – water, energy, labor, occupied soil – these are additional costs to be considered.
There may be several reasons as to why restaurants serve freebies; first, it is a low-cost way of keeping customers calm during a busy service. Second, it creates a good image of generosity for the restaurant, and people feel taken care of when they receive complimentary gestures. Expectations from other restaurants of the same style may also pressure other restaurants to follow the flock. If you are the only one that does not offer free food like your counterparts, people might see it as a travesty. I remembered going to a Korean restaurant and was told that I had to pay for their Banchan (small side dishes), and feeling slightly cheated since I have never had to pay in the past. Not fulfilling a customer’s expectations can damage the image of a business. But how did we start to have this culture of expectations in the first place?
When restaurants offer free food items, they generally don’t ask if a customer wants it, nor do they consider a customer’s possible intolerance, for example gluten (found in bread) or nightshade vegetables (bell peppers, tomatoes, and eggplants). They also often serve a significant quantity even for individual diners. How many times have you seen steakhouses serve you multiple varieties of bread for a single person? Abundance gives people sense security and pleasure, and America has a food culture that values size when food is relatively cheap and plentiful in most of its cities. Nevertheless, should we fulfill this temporary sentiment at the cost of wasting food?
In 2015, the UN created the Sustainable Development Goals to sustainably increase the well-being of the planet and people globally, ending poverty, hunger, all while protecting our land and seas. Target 12 of the 17 SDGs calls for “Responsible Consumption and Production,” encouraging consumers to take their roles in shifting to a better diet and more responsible food consumption. A powerful report by the FAO suggests that we lose and waste one-third of food produced yearly, and in the U.S. 40%, with the majority at the retail and consumer level. So individual consumers and households have a lot of power in making a big difference to reduce those numbers.
Should restaurants start asking customers instead of blindly offering complimentary food? Although the idea of receiving items free of charge is tempting, can we as customers be counted on to accept or refuse responsibly? Should restaurants serve at a gradual pace instead of serving once at a hefty quantity? What other dining out habits do you see contributing to avoidable food waste?
So the next time you eat out, remember that you have the power to decide where that food will end up. 
Saccharomyces Serenades, Lactobacillus Lullabies: The Soundscapes of Fermentation
By Dana Ferrante
It’s not everyday you meet a self-proclaimed ‘fermentation evangelist,’ let alone play a small part in his upcoming exhibition.
On February 1, 2020, I participated in a workshop for the members and friends of the Somerville Community Growing Center led by Joshua Rosenstock, an artist, musician, fermentation expert, and Associate Director of WPI’s Interactive Media & Game Development program.
The workshop had an eclectic mix of participants, including community garden and farm members, pickling enthusiasts, musicians, young children and their intrigued guardians. The task at hand was relatively simple: using produce from Waltham Fields Community Farm, we were to create pickle jars that would then be connected to Joshua’s living art piece, The Fermentophone.
According to Joshua’s website, the “Fermentophone is a multi-sensory installation in which an algorithmically generated musical composition is performed by living cultures of bacteria and yeast. The installation comprises a series of different vessels containing actively fermenting foodstuffs and beverages, wired with electronic sensors. Each colorful, odorous, and edible ferment has its own musical vocabulary which is expressed according to microbial activity. ”
Joshua created his first Fermentophone installation back in 2013 at a festival at MIT’s Media lab; since then, he’s exhibited his idea in an empty storefront in Wisconsin as part of the state’s Fermentation Fest, as well as a similar festival in Boston in 2016. The fruits of our labor in February 2020 were destined for a temporary installation within the Harvard Museum of Natural History’s exhibit, Microbial Life: A Universe at the Edge of Sight, a “multimedia journey into [the] fascinating, invisible realm” of bacteria and microbes (HMNH website, 2020).
Before we began carefully stuffing our mason jars, Joshua gave us some very important background information on the history, power, and process of fermentation. Here are the key takeaways:
1) Microbes, or the yeasts and bacteria responsible for the fermentation process, are everywhere.
Evolutionarily speaking, microbes preceded humans, and likely exerted selective pressure on humans—which is both a humbling and somewhat terrifying concept. Humans are majority microbes, and we exist in a symbiotic relationship with them (you may have heard the term ‘microbiome’). Little is known about the gut-brain axis in the human body, which is organized around microbial activity, but scientists have established it plays a role in regulating some of our thoughts and emotions. (Hence, somewhat terrifying.)
2) Saccharomyces, a genus of fungi, includes many types of yeasts humans have used to create food and drink for at least 12,000 years.
From beer in the Epic of Gilgamesh, to ancient Chicha pots unearthed in the Andes, to depictions of the Greek god Dionysus with satyrs and wine glasses, strains of Saccharomyces have been harnessed throughout human history, around the world, to produce fermented, alcoholic beverages. Many have attributed the existence of bread, beer, and other fermented food and drinks to a rise in surplus grains due to the agricultural revolution (approximately 10,000 BCE).
As Joshua pointed out, microbes not only control different physiological processes (e.g. gut-brain axis, microbiome, etc), but have the power to expand our minds. Accordingly, fermented beverages in a variety of cultural contexts have gained significance beyond pure nutrition; for example, beer was once used as a form of currency or salary, and chicha, bread, and wine are linked with spirituality in cultures across the globe. Today, yeast continues to produce delicious breads and brews, as well as some kinds of synthetic insulin and some vaccines.
3) Another microbe, lactobacillus, can survive where many microbes can’t; this often leads to spontaneous lacto-fermentation.
When vegetables are put into a salt water brine, the salt drives out the water in the vegetables. Very few bacteria can survive in this context, with the exception of lactobacillus, which imparts that distinctly sour, tangy flavor we associate with a good yogurt or lacto-fermented pickle. Lacto-fermented foods are found in cultures around the world, from kimchi to sauerkraut, Greek yogurt to miso.
Joshua was quick to point out that for much of human history, fermentation was one of the only ways humans could preserve foods. Until the advent of refrigeration beginning in the 1930s, harnessing microbes was one of the best and most common ways to save food for later.
4) Not all pickles are fermented.
As someone who enjoys pickling any and all vegetables, this was something I knew in the back of my mind, but didn’t really want to admit, I guess. Like many impatient, city-dwelling folks living in a shared space, I am always a bit weary about letting things I plan to eat actually ferment. I love vinegar, and am pretty skeptical about the type of microbes that might be living in my apartment....
So what foods are actually fermented? Pickles that undergo spontaneous lacto-fermentation are ‘real’ pickles, according to Joshua. When vegetables are “pickled” in vinegar, their immersion in a highly acidic solution (e.g. vinegar) essentially ensures their preservation. In contrast with a salt water brine that encourages spontaneous chemical reactions, vinegar inhibits any spontaneous microbial activity. In order for the Fermentophone to work, our pickle jars needed to lacto-ferment, thereby releasing bubbles and producing the Fermentophone’s rhythm.
Ultimately, this hands-on experience has made me significantly less afraid to lacto-ferment pickles, and I cannot wait to use New England’s bounty of late summer vegetables and give it a try.
Aside from the fact that Joshua’s installation involved the community in a very hands-on way (Harvard’s Food Literacy Project and students from a local school also contributed mason jars), I think what makes the Fermentophone so clever is that it uses live organisms to create “generative art,” as Joshua called it.
The Fermentophone translates the chemical process of fermentation into a sonoric experience, while also connecting science with visual art, the culinary arts, and questions of cultural significance. While we could curate the colors, shapes, layering, titles, and flavors of each mason jar, the Fermentophone produced “serendipitous” sounds and experiences.
As a student of gastronomy, this experience has made me reconsider the mediums and sensory experiences one can harness to explore topics in food. While I have often found myself wondering what the food in an 18th century kitchen tasted like, I now found myself thinking: what would that kitchen have sounded or felt like? What can I do as a gastronomy student to make better use of sonoric, tactile, and visual mediums in my research or presentations?
Lastly, a quick apology: the Fermentophone exhibit, to the best of my knowledge, has been dismantled at the Harvard Museum of Natural History. That said, a visit to the museum is certainly worth the while for gastronomy students, especially with the Peabody Museum’s Resetting the Table: Food and Our Changing Tastes exhibit happening right next door until November 28, 2021.