Water Boils: Demystifying Brown Bagging

Entries categorized as ‘processed food’

Yellow #6 or other artificial flavorings

March 27 · No Comments

There is a strange taste in my mouth and I do not know where it is coming from. Can you find it in this picture?

soba

Today I went to the office to work for the first time since I got sick. There was a cute bag of easter chocolate on a desk in the common area, gifted from someone who had more power than all of the inhabitants of the room. We thought we were lucky. I was particularly happy because they were perfectly sized for my bento, so I brought some home. But then something made me think again about whether I was really really lucky. You’ll see why if you have the patience to read all of this post.

It was a particularly long day for me. When I came home, I almost decided not to eat dinner and just go to bed. However, I had to do something for lunch tomorrow. This sounds funny for people who are not lunch-box crazy, but: because I needed to make a lunch-box, I made dinner. For the non frequent readers of the blog I have to reiterate: lunch is the main meal of my day, then breakfast comes. Dinner is never special, unless it is an intentionally special dinner: a date, a celebration, a self gifting ritual after a deadline. Most of the days my dinner is leftovers of my lunch-box for the next day, or scrambled eggs, quick salad, something like that.

Since I gave myself only fifteen minutes to prepare the lunch, I decided to make a version of zaru soba. I boiled some water, put a bunch of soba noodles, and added some tofu that I’d previously frozen a minute before the soba was done (note to self: freezing leftover tofu wasn’t a bad idea). Meanwhile, I chopped some cucumber, reconstituted wakame with some water and made a quick sauce out of soy sauce, hot pepper flakes, rice vinegar, ginger powder and sesame oil. Mixed soba+tofu with wakame and cucumbers and I was almost done. I put some sauce in a container rather than pouring it over all of the noodles to prevent leakage during transportation. I poured the rest on the portion I reserved for dinner. I was done. Good thing I washed some strawberries this morning. They were 2.50 per pound; and for that price during March I could ignore that they drove all the way from California. Please tell me, if you’d like to eat fresh fruit in Midwest when nothing is in season, what else can you do? A piece of Babybel cheese, and all I was missing was some kind of treat. I looked at the cream eggs that I brought from the office and asked “Why not”. I’ll tell why you should not.

I do not consider myself a food snob, but I can say that my preferences are skewed towards what most Americans consider snobbish. I don’t look down on people who eat food that I consider inferior; but yes I consider a lot of food, or better yet “industrial food products”, inferior. I do not pick food for its symbolic value, nor for its price, rarity or which part of the world it comes from; and I try not to make friends with people who do so. I have a particular aversion towards the gourmet culture which overlooks majority of the third world food culture (Have you ever tried searching biryani at Epicurious? Try it, please!), and undermines the real heroes of the food industry. Still I sound elitist every time I open my mouth about food. People hate me, they have even systematically harassed me in the past in other mediums. Perhaps because I tell the inconvenient truth?

I try not to act like an elitist asshole, but sometimes it just happens. Especially when it comes to processed food, factory produced “food products” and anything that is designed to resemble something other than itself. I gag when I see the ingredients of most standard grocery store items, and I haven’t eaten at a McDo since 2001. Yada yada, standard food snob bitching. Middle class abstraction process that prohibits a real understanding of the Kraft blue box subaltern. Bla bla.

I am sorry, this will sound another self righteous bull-crap but, I think if I had only 50 dollars per month for food, I would still not eat the blue box. In fact I think it could be an expensive way to eat. Rice, bulgur, beans and pasta cost around a dollar per pound, sometimes less depending on where you shop. Eggs tend to be cheap as well. Of course I would have to forgo fruit, fish and vegetables most of my days, which is a luxury that I take for granted with my current budget. Still, I believe that the real problem lies in the perceptions and accessibility regarding food. Most of the preferences of Americans below poverty are unfortunately learned preferences, class conditioned dispositions; more importantly, such dispositions directly harm them. And again, unfortunately, they are also stripped from the information that helps them to get out of those learned dispositions. As elitist as this might sound, most people don’t know any better and have no consciousness of their options. So yeah, you are right that I have no authority to talk about the subaltern, because I have power and agency; I can chose and I can decide. A lot of people can’t. They are stripped from knowledge, power and agency. They are alienated, they are dictated to think that the blue box is their only option and that there is no harm in eating it every day. Do you also know that poorer urban neighborhood grocery stores sell lower quality produce sold at a higher price because none of the big stores with cost advantage find it profitable to open a store in the area? Do you also know that less healthy food options are more heavily promoted in poorer non-white neighborhoods? But what about the blinded suburban kids with SUVs and their moms who have a weekly food budget that equals my monthly stipend? Why do they think you care about them when they are handed something that contains Yellow#6?

In addition to “demystifying brown bagging”, I intend to use this blog not only to inform people about the amount of unnatural stuff in their food, but also to monitor, track and improve my own eating. I might even sound hypocritical in this post, since frequent readers of this blog also might recall that I use lots of convenience items (Trader Ho anyone?). Well because it is a learned disposition. I do possess those dispositions, unfortunately. A year from now, and hopefully done with school, I hope to eliminate all things processed; for now, leave me be an hypocritical asshole. The thing is, mainstream ideology regarding what we put in our bodies, especially the one dominant in the USA, is so messed up that sometimes there is no way to escape. What are you going to do when your school cafeteria serves meat which is actually a sort of “meat product” (a.k.a meat with lots of synthetic fillers and preservatives). Do you have to shop at Wholefoods to avoid high fructose corn syrup? Why do I have to defend myself every time I refuse to take a painkiller for a headache? To avoid eating nuclear weapon grade materials, you really have to become an obsessive compulsive person who reads all ingredient labels; or if you have time and motivation to make everything from scratch, just ignore anything that is packaged. I don’t; I have successfully convinced myself that I can’t.

Now, the chocolate easter eggs. The first thing that I sensed when I put this egg shaped food product was an unpleasant sense of sweetness. There it was, the ubiquitous corn syrup. There was also something cold and metalic, think about licking a piece of steel. But that sugar, it was overwhelming. Then I remembered, sometime in last century per capita consumption of sugar hit 150 pounds (pdf file), per year. I don’t know how big or small you are, but this is basically equal to the number on my scale. I can even imagine a pile of sugar that is 150 pounds. In fact, I am pretty sure tonight’s nightmare will be a giant monster made out of sugar, running after me, shouting “I will catch you and make you diabetic”.

Anyhoo, no wonder we all became sugar junkies; we were sinisterly fed it. But I wasn’t, or more appropriately I had gone cold turkey. Since I was watching my sugar intake for the last six months, the taste of the cream egg, a favorite product of many, was disgustingly sweet. It was also too chemical. By saying this I will probably offend millions who like this product but honestly it tasted like aluminum foil and burnt sugar. So I wondered what it was that contributed to this impeccable taste? What tasted so chemical that I can still feel it in my mouth 2 hours after dinner? Unfortunately, Hershey’s web site didn’t list the ingredients for the said product. Instead they said:

Nutrition information for this flavor is not available online at this time. Please consult the package label or call us at (800) 468-1714 for further information.

I almost called them, but I was suddenly lazy and tired and kind of foggy minded. Then I realized, there was probably some form of corn syrup in that thing. I rarely show this kind of reaction towards real chocolate; but how much chocolate was in this chocolate? Quickly, my blood sugar rose, then my insulin; suddenly I felt like fainting. Perhaps my insulin hit 200?. Yay, bullseye! “They should use this product instead of that flat orange soda thing that they force feed me every time I get a glucose intolerance test”, I said to myself. How many of these would you need to supply 75 mgs of glucose? I still needed some answers, but nutritional info was not available.

Instead of driving to the nearest convenience store and checking the labels, I decided to to try my chance with google. The closest information I got was this, which shows a portion of the nutritional labeling. Corn syrup? Present! Unidentified artificial flavorings? Present! Rest was cropped from the picture. Thank you dear senior departmental person who gave me this. You must really dislike me, or that, like millions of Americans, you are truly blinded by the agro-industrial complex.

America wake up! They are feeding you crap. And because it is so cheap, you look the other way. When one pound of oreos cost less than a pound of fruit, there is something wrong.

Categories: bento · food politics · processed food

The second episode of Supermarket Secrets

March 17 · No Comments

Why do organic potatoes cost so much? Why do all fruit look the same? What is in a bag of salad, other than salad? What about organic milk?

Not that you cannot find this at google video by yourself, I just like to finish what I started.

We will be back with regular lunchbox programming after the weekend.

Categories: activism · factory farming · food politics · processed food

can you guess why supermarket chicken is cheap?

March 16 · No Comments

No lunch box for tomorrow. There IS such a thing as free lunch, but I am not even sure if I can eat.

Categories: activism · factory farming · food politics · processed food

fok-kin sloth

March 14 · No Comments

Meet choloepus hoffmanni:

Meet my lunch:

chinese takeout leftovers

Oh, don’t worry! I didn’t eat the poor choloepus hoffmanni. I guess if I wanted, he would be too lazy to say no; but I don’t take advantage of creatures who are naturally or artificially stoned. I just feel like one when it comes to cooking these days. I am working some long hours writing, or at least trying; so when I finally arrive home, all I want is some food in front of me.

What you see is about a quarter of the Chinese takeout that I picked up five minutes before closing time tonight. I decided to pimp it up with some frozen edamame and a tiny apple to save some of my arteries. The menu consists of fragrant fried chicken with already-mixed Fok-kin fried rice. I have never eaten the latter before, but I am known for ordering random things from the menu. Even if the names sound dirty or funny, I hope for serendipitous discoveries. I usually end up finding a new favorite; but you should have seen my face when I opened the bag and saw two different containers. Just for a second I thought that someone mixed the orders. Thankfully, the instructions were written in sharpie on the plastic lids: this is fried rice and this is sauce for fried rice. I guess whoever wrote this was laughing at the ridiculous obviousness of the explanation, especially if it was some common knowledge for the Cantonese. But it took me another minute to figure out that, after mixing the two, you end up with some sort of “wet” rice. Wikipedia concurred, but corrected the name from “fok kin” to fukien.

Fokkin fukien, you almost ruined my evening! I was paralyzed to the extent of quitting eating. But in the end, you were very tasty and comforting.

The feeling was surprisingly familiar. X over rice is a poor man’s lunch in Turkey, especially if it is ordered as “a little” X over rice. Good thing is, a little is never too little; most of the time you pay half price for a portion that is much larger than what you expect. This didn’t taste like anything I have eaten before; but the feel and the texture was similiar. It was like some unknown dish over rice at a corner greasy spoon. Maybe grandma’s leftover specialty? Turkish gummo? Except, it was a little bit expensive for something that you would call “X over rice”.

I am afraid I have exceeded the budget by picking up expensive food items without considering my promise to budget. In a city where the majority of Chinese population consists of students, it is hard to find someone who cooks good Chinese food. And when someone does cook Chinese food (I am not even saying good), it is never as cheap as the ones you find in legitimate Chinatowns. It was worth to splurge for this meal though; I am happy enough to sit down and work a few more hours before going to bed.

Over, and out.

Categories: bento · processed food

- Honey, I can’t believe you cooked! How sweet.

March 7 · 2 Comments

Ummm not really, and they are kind of, umm, processed. But at least, they are like, umm, kawaii. This lunch cost me less than 3 bucks. Hey, the grapes weren’t cheap!

kawaii sandwiches

Dear readers,

In this picture, we have mini vegan meatball and spinach sandwiches. Some assembly is required before eating, and I admit that they are made from frozen meatballs. Furthermore, the ingredient list has some stuff that I don’t understand, but I’ll close my eyes to this. Sauteed spinach, the only thing I cooked for this meal, will be later added on top of the meatballs. Some mayo with chipotle will leave their tiny pink container and join them to play. Isn’t that nice? Four cute meatball and spinach sandwiches.

Perhaps right after, perhaps a couple of hours later, I can enjoy some grapes. Later in the afternoon, some tea with the tiny lemon tart. The tart is sold frozen at Wholefoods. It is their store brand, and yes it has funky ingredients in it; but not as much as mainstream stuff. It shouldn’t be bad, since Wholefoods claims that they don’t stock bad stuff. Just today one young lady with dreadlocks and a couple of hundred piercings was telling me that they cannot stock (gasp) Nutella! “It has trans fat”, she said. I guess this tart doesn’t.

Tell the guys that I am back. I have been eating horribly in the last couple days, and the only way I can stop myself from eating a whole pizza in front of the computer is to prepare lunches; and perhaps stay away from pizza. I will be brave and go back to the office to write. Some good headphones should protect me from the noise. Or perhaps I could try the library, which by the way was voted the best pickup place on campus by my horny undergraduate students. Hmm maybe not. Headphones it is.

Categories: bento · processed food

Find The Nail Polish in This Picture

February 28 · No Comments

tamale and bean salad lunch

This one is for tomorrow. It is high fat (tamale, avocado and full fat yogurt), but I guess I won’t die. Or will I? See, you’ll have to read the whole post now.

Total cost should be around two bucks, if not, less. I don’t exactly recall what I paid for the tamales since I bought them almost a month ago, but as far as I remember it was around $3-4 for a 6 count. A friend told me that I could get them for much cheaper from a Mexican grocery. I bet they will be tastier too.

The salad is a mix of one perfectly ripe avocado, canned chickpeas (another staple of mine), not so good winter tomatoes, half a red onion, juice of one lemon, olive oil, dried parsley, cayenne, paprika, salt, pepper. I love fresh parsley but since I am really bad with keeping fresh herbs, I rarely have some at home. Dried was, I guess, fine for the occasion. Not perfect, but passable for a weekday dinner (and leftovers as lunch). Canned chickpeas on the other hand are (is?) my savior. It is, of course cheaper to cook from dried, but you have to plan ahead and soak them overnight. This saves me when I am desperate for a quick hummus fix or craving for some chickpea salad. Mix the whole thing in a bowl, gently, trying not to smash the avocados too much. Let the flavors blend for a couple of hours. This will make two very generous servings, or four-five small servings.

The round container is plain yogurt, nothing fancy. It is cheaper to buy a big tub and portion it, and I have been very happy with my steel yogurt size container that I scored a few years ago. More importantly, it is local yogurt; it only travels 30 miles to reach me and it tastes just like the ones at home. Atop that, lies a pre-portioned pack of raisins. It is still cheaper to buy a big bag and portion it, but I won’t do it. See, I have no self restraint for raisins. The little plastic bag is a barrier between me and the act of eating the whole damn big bag. Well, I am a woman of many contradictions.

The tamale is from Target’s store brand Archer Farms. It is one of my guilty pleasures. It tastes very similar to the ones at Trader Joe’s and it is cheaper. In fact, I am suspecting that they use the same suppliers for most of their store brand products since there is a lot of overlap. I had never bought food from Target till I heard a rave review about their coffee, and it was pretty good. And recently I’ve been impressed with their store brand staples like pasta and crackers.

Anyhoo, the ingredient list for the tamales is as follows: Water, masa flour, monterey jack cheese, green chilies, corn oil, salt, mild chili peppers, vinegar, carrageenan (so far the only potentially offensive ingredient) and oleoresin paprika for color (mmm this one is a little puzzling too). Let’s check:

From Wikipedia:

Carrageenans or carrageenins (pronounced [ˌkærəˈgiːnəns]) are a family of linear sulphated polysaccharides extracted from red seaweeds. The name is derived from a type of seaweed that is abundant along the Irish coastline near the village of Carragheen. Gelatinous extracts of carrageen seaweed (also known as Irish moss) have been used as food additives for hundreds of years [1]. Research has raised concerns about the health implications of carrageenan consumption.

….

Health concerns: There is evidence from studies performed on rats, guinea pigs and monkeys which indicates that degraded carrageenan (poligeenan) may cause ulcerations in the gastro-intestinal tract and gastro-intestinal cancer [4]. Poligeenan is produced from carrageenan subjected to high temperatures and acidity. The average carrageenan molecule weighs over 100,000 Da while poligeenans have a molecular weight of less than 50,000 Da. A scientific committee working on behalf of the European Commission has recommended that the amount of degraded carrageenan be limited to a maximum of 5% (which is the limit of detection) of total carrageenan mass. Upon testing samples of foods containing high molecular weight carrageens, researchers found no poligeenan. [1]

What about the oleoresin paprika? FDA says:

Identity. (1) The color additive paprika oleoresin is the combination of flavor and color principles obtained from paprika(Capsicum annuum L.) by extraction, using any one or a combination of the following solvents:AcetoneEthyl alcoholEthylene dichlorideHexaneIsopropyl alcoholMethyl alcoholMethylene chlorideTrichloroethylene

Hmm, have I been eating nail polish?. As Borat would say, NIIICCEEE!

Epilogue: While it is still not clear whether I am going to die from this meal, the occasion calls for an reason to learn how to make tamales. But first, I have to check the ingredient list for the ones from TJ.

Categories: bento · processed food