a seed

Clammy. I had clams, they look like little vulvas! Such feminine little shells. Like Leonardo's Venus. Hot and moist. Secret. Exposed. I couldn't help but stare. Ooozing in butter. Laced with garlic and dressed in Rosemary. Threatened, threatening. I don't know whether to investigate or eat. it's all so new and alive and yet dead and gone. Never again to do its purpose...of eating sand? So delicate, and yet not as delicate enough to be compared to the Vagina. Deliciously and repulsive as so; Thus consumption, gratitude, and remorse echoe.

To clam or not to clam, a dilemma of tensions. Too grabby leads to extinction, then what's its intention? Proliferation, to feed you and me. But being soo grabby has growth in a recession. Destabilizing a connection. GoodTide recedes.


****

This was written as an activists' poem for the liberation of Living things from International trade markets. I wanted to express in a creative poetic way the tensions of conservation and exploitation. The availability of Mother Nature's gifts and the inevitable raping of those resources, I feel, is an important angle to encourage the re-feminization of nature against the male-dominated matriarchy ties of today.

-Seeds of Rebellion, since we all can plant the seeds.

Lunches

Cheese, butter, bread. Check. Hmm..wheres the tupperware..aha! Crackers or chips? Gotta have the fruit snacks, cheese stick. A slice of apple in a plastic bag, oh i'll just rinse this one out...hmm..maybe a granola bar? Or a tupperware of soynuts. Soynuts it is. And to top it all off, a teeny weeny box of apple juice. Zip up and toss it in the fridge for tomorrow. A nearly well balanced lunch, user-friendly and clean-up's a breeze!

Guilt now kicks in after that routine above, ever since our class on the Japanese Obento Box lunches. How can I just pop out a lunch in five seconds for the kids that I nanny for while some mothers in Japan buy magazines on tips for this sort of thing! My lunches are barely well-rounded by American standards, they lack very much freshness (one fruit or vegetable if I'm lucky), and they devour plastic throw away's like no other. How can I feel good about serving a meal day in and day out to my kids that will simply provide them with sustenance, but not the mental nourishment that they need to get through the day? By mental nourishment, I would like to use the lunch box as a way to instill values like variety, conservation, and healthfulness. In some parts of Japan, as we learned from Andrea, they encourage their social values at lunch time. Such as pressure to finish lunches with the rest of the kids so as to encourage punctuality. As my kid's mom said, if that was the rule here, Grace would never go to recess. So do we not value that Grace is punctual, or rather do we instill the lunchtime medium with different values, saving lessons in punctuality for a different time.

I'm just a part-time nanny, you can't expect me to carve a Pokemon character out of rice balls and nigri. In response, I'm a 6-year old, you can't expect me to eat that! And yet, no matter what the form of the lunch, it's creator can only hope that the child is thankful, recognizes the individuality of their lunch versus another's, and remembers the voice in the back of their head saying "finish your fruit".

There are undoubtedly different gastronomic expectations for Americans as well as Japanese, but don't we all just want what's best for our children? I can't help but critique that America has overwhelmingly chose convenience over creativity, easy to serve over uniquely yours. I hope that we want to encourage our children to take time and pay attention to the little things along with eating well. To value the time and energy it takes to create a valuable meal for the ones we love. If it are the patterns and consistencies in life what shapes how we are as adults, then I worry for these one-serving bite-sized watermelon flavored kids of ours! If we as nurturers can't show them what a care filled meal, or lunch even, looks like, who will?

I worry, but I also thank all the mom's out there who worry about everything there is to worry about. I know that we are all trying to do our best, unfortunately, time fails to allow it. However, learning about the other ways in which people make lunch a symbolic act, such as in Japan, has only allowed me to tap into new and interesting ways to add more values to the act of fueling our youth.

My oBento attempt! It's fish, see?

oh bento oh wo w!

Power structures in food

This title sounds amazing right? You want to learn more and are engaged. I am not prepared to , nor available for the time it would take to give an answer that would encompass a crumb of this whole strawberry topped New York cheezcake with graham cracker crust. Food is like a super hero, if we knew Why it is so amazing it probably would seem less exciting. Science has a problem with this: Always wanting to know why.

"Just because" works as a way to see past the why? to the whoa!. The appreciation for what it is simply because it's doing what it's gotta do.

I will focus on, in actuality, the power structure behind foods as a social artifact. Being in an anthropology class, one must never fail to give at least a gulp's worth of critique to power struggles. Obviously, it is a recurring theme, as we saw in the film Tampopo (rent it) and learning about obento box lunches (try it). As my own cinematic life of anthropological importance plays out, I can't help but notice how my role as a female, in my class bracket, with my symbols, values, and culture, interacts with everyone else's stats. In particular, has my role as a woman impacted the places in which I revolve myself around food? Does my relationship with food exist in the presence of a man or concerning "domestic" duties? I would say that, yes, these are descriptions of what my interaction has become. But to contradict such broad statements, I am also a very creative and daring chef. I end up cooking for my boyfriend because, damn it, I want it the way I want it and that way is the bomb. He's never yet complained.

No problems there.

But then why do I feel like I'm being "domestic" when I cook food for my Manfriend and I. Or when I'm packing lunches for the kids that I nanny for. How is the way that I am treating this responsibilité de nourriture different than how a man would do it? Are there innate characteristics or is it an example of either you got it or you don't..

Here is where everyone chimes in "Well my dad would make great..." "He makes the best..." Most of these fill in the blanks usually end in meat. Steak. Burgers. In my case, spaghetti, but that's because I'm Italian. You can't get far being an Italian and not being able to make good spaghetti, no matter which sex. But do women have some sort of maternal way of caring for the health and survival of the species, while the men are the big strong protectors? Does this resort back to hunter/gatherer instincts? There are probably tests, surveys, and student groups getting to the bottom of this. But what I am wondering is if this is the patriarchial power structure at play, like with Tampopo's challenge at becoming one of the first female noodle chef, or are women just built with a greener thumb, a natural gift for getting the most out of food?

I would like to balance the role's of the sexes, as well as even out modes of production for all social human interaction by creating atmosphere's of respect. Cultural division of labor is acceptable as long as it doesn't impose harmful constraints on an individual. Although it was rare in Tampopo's Japan for a woman to be a noodle chef, she was still able to do so. Also, if a man wants to cook, be a nanny, or take on more feminine roles of care-giving no one should be stopping him.

Social and cultural divisions of the sexes have deep historical roots. Some of these roots need to be pulled, those which discourage self exploration and diversity. While others should be nourished; each day as a nanny and care-giver and girlfriend I become more aware of the woman inside of me, the creator and nurturer of life. Perhaps it could be challenged that men could learn a thing or two from indulging in their womanly halves, blurring and challenging the socially constructed boundaries of masculinity and femininity in relation to food.

Ode to Tubular Tubers

Ruth Ozeki's book All Over Creation is as mouthwatering as it is inspiring. All the talk about potatoes, activism, and conscientious communities has made me want to take a different look at what I can do with that old bag o' potatoes in my fridge. I also found a yam, an onion, and some radishes. Talk about TUBULAR TUBERS. That's all I could think about as I was slicing these amazing root veggies. Their color, lack of scent, but amazing tastes put potatoes pretty high on the list of everyday diets, but unfortunately I believe that there is more to these pre-transformation fries. This something is indefinitely connected to bio-diversity, local knowledge, and sustainable agriculture as is described in Ozeki's book.

So this Sunday, rainy Seattle afternoon, let's give a moment to praise and probe the Potato.

Livin' in the city ain't easy. So separate we metro's are from the toil, soil, and stakes that go into the Dick's fries which I dip in my milk shakes. It's quite a shame. I have been exploring this as a stepping stone by which to help myself have more control over the lifecycle of my food.

FUN FACT: There are over 150 different varieties of potatoes. When Indigenous South American's first began cultivating potatoes they had over 250 varieties. In Idaho today, 99% of all potatoes grown are of the Russet variety.

As we have been learning in Ozeki's book, the stakes in potato farming are very high. It's almost like gambling, you put all your energy into one cash-crop, hoping for a nine-dollar potato jackpot, but knowing that the attack of blight and weather are unpredictable risks. While I spent time in Ecuador for a study abroad opportunity, I visited potato farmers who were struggling with the pressures from bio-chemical companies and fertilizers while also feeling the physical side-effects of high input potato farming. The main struggle for the farmers was how to quit the toxic pesticides cold turkey. The threat of decreased yields and blight outbreak, is terrifying and when your livelihood is invested in a single crop it is hard to want to take any more risks than you have to. However, local people are re-discovering that the pesticides have become less effective and their yields are decreasing. This has encouraged a rediscovery of local, more traditional methods for preparing the soil, planting the potatoes, and for using an integrated crop system in order to discourage the use of pesticides. This learning is being transmitted through many educational mediums such as Farmer Field Schools. These are integrative and community knowledge based groupings that work in a horizontal, non-hierarchical fashion in order to test and share farming techniques. The locality of FFS's is what makes them so effective in producing site-based solutions to site-specific problems.

I think that Americans can learn a lot from the Farmer Field School's methodology about sharing and dispersing information rather than patenting and concealing it; I think that in the least we would all be less afraid of this wild natural world of ours and be more obliged to explore and experiment with its quirks and synchronicities.

In conclusion, for my wild night of experimenting with introspective Tators, I created a feast from nothing:

1. Cut potatoes, yams, onion, radishes, whatever you want to bake and put them in a zip lock bag

2. Set oven to 400 degrees

3. In the zip-lock bag add some oil, salt, lotsa pepper, some curry, i picked fresh rosemary from outside, again WHATEVER you're experimenting here. Put it all in the bag and shake shake shake!

4. Pour all the goodies out on a pan, preferably greased with that fancy spray stuff but dont worry if you don't have that cuz they are pretty greasy already.

5. Stick em in the oven! This will take about 25-30 minutes, but use your senses!

6. Start piling something else together to go with your Special fries, for your special guy.

<--my special guy

oooh flavorful

And VOILA! A beautiful home-cooked experimental and experiential Chili with Tators au Spicy!

This is your world! Do what you want! Especially in the kitchen: there are no rules, only possibilities..