Food Journal

5/8 Wed.             Carried a Camelbak full of water all day

10:00am              Bowl of Reese’s Puffs with skim milk

12:00pm             Swiss mushroom burger with barbeque sauce on the bun, steak fries with ketchup,

                               glass of Crush with ice

7:10pm              Piece of rotisserie chicken, penne in some kind of tomato sauce covered with 

                               shredded cheese, disappointing salad made of spinach leaves, sliced strawberries, and rubbery dried apple rings, lemonade

9:23pm             Cup of froyo containing cake batter, Oreo milkshake, and raspberry frozen 

                          yogurt topped with cookie dough, cheesecake bites, health pieces, and 

                          graham cracker dust

5/9 Thurs.

8:40 am                Bowl of Reese’s Puffs with skim milk

12:00pm               Ham sandwich on wheat bread with white American cheese, spicy mustard, and lettuce, disappointing string cut French fries, glass of Crush with ice

2:08pm                 Bag of original Pop Chips, can of Xingtea green tea

6:15pm                 Small slice of pepperoni pizza, penne covered with marinara sauce and a lot of parmesan cheese, glass of ice water

9:05pm                 Bowl of Reese’s Puff with skim milk

5/10 Fri.                Carried a Camelbak full of water all day

9:50am                 Strawberry Nutragrain bar

12:55pm               Ham and Swiss cheese on a roll with butter and mustard, Cheetos, Mountain Cooler Capri Sun, mini Twix

3:55pm                 Gala apple

6:15pm                 Ham and Swiss cheese on a roll with butter and mustard

Short Essay #4: History and Production

MN 1711

            The first time I ever tasted a Honeycrisp apple was at my grandparent’s house. It was martini time, 4 0’clock in the Lander house hold, and my grandfather cut up an apple for a snack. He offered me the bowl of slices but my hand stopped short when I saw they were lightly salted. I gave him a very skeptic look and he replied with a “just try it.”  With the first bite, everything I had known about apples was turned upside down. The delicious sweet-tart flavor was brought out by the salt. Apples weren’t supposed to taste this good! Granny Smith’s and Gala’s no longer compared to the crisp and juicy goodness of a Honeycrisp. But where had they been for the years of my life filled with inferior fruit? Turns out the Honeycrisp apple didn’t even exist until 1960.

            The Honeycrisp apple’s origin resides in the University of Minnesota Horticultural Research Center. There it was part of an apple breeding program to produce apple trees that could stand cold winters and still yield high quality fruit. Other apple varieties released by the university had folded under harsh winters, so the search was on for the perfect breed (“Honeycrisp”). After the initial crossing of a Macoun and Honeygold apple, the first Honeycrisp seedling was planted two years later in 1962 (University of Minnesota). Apple trees don’t produce fruit until they have matured, so it is estimated that a Honeycrisp wouldn’t have been sampled until 1967 (“Honeycrisp”). The next stage was selection where trees are rated on things like productivity, disease rating, and picking date. Because the Honeycrisp passed the test, nameless until now, it was assigned the subject number MN 1711. This selection occurred in 1974; it took almost two decades of further examination before the university released the apple as the Honeycrisp in 1991 (“Honeycrisp”).

To understand more about the Honeycrisp apple itself, I researched its parentage. The Macoun is a relatively small apple variety that is dark red in color; its crisp quality makes it a “perfect dessert choice, bursting with sweet aromatic flavor” (“Honeycrisp Heritage”). The Honeygold is a cross itself between a Golden Delicious and Haralson apple, and its sweet but hardy fruit quality lend it to baking (“Honeycrisp Heritage”). Knowing the roots of the Honeycrisp, I wasn’t surprised to find out the characteristic traits it held. The Honeycrisp displays a mottled red and yellow skin and has a crisp sweet-tart flavor. The most surprising trait is holds, however, is that the Honeycrisp can be stored for six months and still retain its firmness and taste (University of Minnesota). This long storage life has to be appealing to farmers and food distributors alike.

Even undergoing the many trials at the university, the Honeycrisp is still a relatively new breed with little information available on it. For the most part, farmers who opt to plant Honeycrisp trees in their orchards have to rely on their knowledge to cope with any problems that surface; apparently Honeycrisp’s are tricky to grow (University of Minnesota). To aid this process, the “Honeycrisp Apple” page found on the University of Minnesota’s apple website hosts a link (titled Production & Postharvest) that leads to a troubleshooting database. On this site, agriculturalists can upload pictures and text that illustrate problems they have run into and tips on how to best avoid them. For example, in solution to bitter pit problems for fruit grown in Maine and New York it is suggested to use calcium sprays during the growing season (“Bitter Pit”).

Since its release, the Honeycrisp has become very popular to consumers and therefore farmers. The Honeycrisp has even gained a following in Europe where it has been dubbed the Honeycruch apple (“Honeycrisp Apple”). Though the Honeycrisp is protected under U.S. Patent, trees can be acquired through licensed nurseries located in the United States, Australia, and Canada (“Licensed Nurseries”).  Farmers in South Canterbury, New Zealand are looking to enter the Honeycrisp market. With a cooler climate that is ideally suited to growing the apples, they hope to capitalize on the exports during the U.S. off-season (“Episode 17: Crunch Time”).

            What started as one seedling in an agricultural experiment has turned into a multi-continental mania. As written in an article on the Minnesota Harvest website, “Whenever we give sample slices of Honeycrisp at the orchard, new converts are won over…one slice, and Honeycrisp is their new favorite” (“Honeycrisp”).  From experience, I can verify this statement; the Honeycrisp is by far my favorite apple. Just last Thanksgiving I was going to bake my first ever apple pie and insisted that my father buy Honeycrisp apples. I never imagined, though, that I was just one more person jumping on the bandwagon.  It amazes me how much this one fruit has altered the apple industry; it also amazes me how good a hybrid apple can taste. I never thought before that my food could be engineered, especially when it comes to “natural” things like fruit and vegetables. It was also surprising how much thought and time goes into selecting one apple tree; I mean the Honeycrisp was around for thirty years before the world knew about it! This research opened my eyes to the fact that something as normal as a Honeycrisp apple can be man-made. It makes me wonder what other foods I eat every day that have been genetically bred for my enjoyment.

"Bitter Pit." Honeycrisp Apple Research Results. University of Minnesota, 2007. Web. 07 May

2012.

"Episode 17: Crunch Time." Hyundai Country Calendar. TV ONE. New Zealand, 5 June 2011. TVNZ.

Television New Zealand Limited. Web. 07 May 2012. Transcript.

"Honeycrisp." Apples. Minnesota Harvest, 2011. Web. 06 May 2012.

"Honeycrisp Apple." University of Minnesota: Apples. University of Minnesota, 7 Sept. 2008. Web. 07

May 2012.

“Honeycrisp Heritage.” Honeycrisp. Pepin Heights, All About Apples, and Black Twig Design, 2008. Web.

7 May 2012.

"Licensed Nurseries." University of Minnesota: Apples. University of Minnesota, 16 June 2008. Web. 07

May 2012.

University of Minnesota. "Honeycrisp Description." Honeycrisp. Pepin Heights, All About Apples, and

Black Twig Design, 2008. Web. 7 May 2012.

Apparently McNuggets aren't the only thing to worry about

           These three texts approach the history and production of our food from the angle of cruelty to animals and workers alike. Estabrook and Cook provide examples of how low-paid migrant workers are exposed to harmful situations every day at their jobs. On the tomato farms of Florida, Estabrook writes how the chemicals blasted into the soil, onto the plants, and even sometimes people themselves affect the workers and cause children to be frequently born with birth defects. The harvesters are paid almost nothing, and the majority being Hispanic migrants, they have no union protection or benefits. They’re only viable living option is to be crammed into trailer slums owned by the farms. Estabrook paints a picture that is eerily similar to cotton plantations of old. Cook chooses to comment on the working conditions of poultry factories. The things he cited really troubled me. Workers get carpel tunnel and tendonitis from pulling out chicken guts. They receive back injuries from slipping on leftover chicken product and blindness from cleaning up. They even can get poisoned by evaporating chicken blood! Are you kidding me? This stuff sounds made up! You can even lose your fingernails to chicken bacteria…the horror. And it doesn’t stop at disease and injury; according to Cook, “cumulative-trauma disorders among poultry workers are 16 times the national average.”

                And humans don’t even receive the worst end of it; at least they get to live. On farms and ranches, cattle, pigs, and chickens are reduced to “production units.” Pollan suggests the way chickens are locked up in cages too small for them to unfold their wings and cattle are herded into pens where they stand shoulder to shoulder in muck is wrong. It’s a kind of racism, “speciesism.” Hey way Pollan describes it, it sounds like a mass genocide of animals. What you have to realize though, is that we are programmed to eat meat. It is anthropologically in our nature and to our advantage that we eat other animals (the species that didn’t went extinct, go figure). So while I can’t agree that we should give up meat, I can agree that animals should be treated fairly.  I liked Pollan’s solution of passing a law “requiring that the steel and concrete walls of the CAFO's and slaughterhouses be replaced with . . . glass. If there's any new ''right'' we need to establish, maybe it's this one: the right to look.” If the meat industry was exposed like this, they would have to better their conditions or face public scrutiny.

                I remember in high school learning about the terrible conditions in meat packing plants in the 1900’s and about the establishment of the FDA. I guess I was naïve to think most of the gross things had ended there. It troubled me when I realized how close to this abuse I am every day. Back home, anywhere I drive there is a good chance I’ll pass by a cattle ranch with droves of animals packed into the mud. I pass cattle trucks hauling animals off to the slaughter houses. And on the way to work downtown, my mom passes by the old slaughter yards every day. So this sounds more horrifying than I meant it to, but my point is, it is just something we all live with. Maybe if people were made aware of what was really going on, the meat industry as a whole could change their conditions, like allowing animals to live “naturally” on farms.

Oh the irony...

          Michael Pollan suggests that as a nation of mixed cultures, America has no establish food tradition. This is the problem that our “national eating disorder” boils down to. Without this solid background of food, Americans have nothing to base their food choices off of and therefore buy into the propaganda of science and advertisements. Science breaks food down into it nutrient components, trying to define it by its health factor, and not necessarily taste or enjoyment. Ads latch onto this idea and project an image of healthy foods. This is what fills the vacuum of American food culture. We want to be healthy; diet crazes change our eating habits all the time depending on what is important to us. One day we count calories while the next we buy into the Atkin’s diet and watch out for carbs. Pollan suggests that this instability in our diet is not good. Other cultures have relatively stable eating patterns, but of course they have the history of food that America is lacking.

He discusses how other cultures actually are more fit than Americans, pointing to those that value “pleasure and habit rather than nutritional science” when sitting down to a meal. Pollan cites France as a place where food tradition is an integral part of society; the French choose food based on taste and enjoy small portion sizes at very social and lengthy meals. In a society of convenience and diet and fads, Americans try to “work out our dietary salvation on our own.” This doesn’t lend to a social atmosphere for meals. Food should be about enjoyment. In America food is about guilt. We feel guilty when eating foods that taste good, foods that are high in sugars or carbs. Pollan notes that food becomes numbers. We are so busy worrying about the health ramifications that we don’t find eating pleasurable like the French. At worry turns into binge eating and other unhealthy activities – which is really kind of ironic. Pollen writes that “…how we eat, and even how we feel about eating, may in the end be just as important as what we eat.” If we eliminated the stress around eating “right” we could enjoy our food again and probably be healthier because of it.

I like to think I eat what I eat because I like it, because I enjoy certain things over others. Generally this is true; I eat pizza for lunch over fish and pick up chocolate chip cookies at the dessert bar instead of a Jell-O cup because those are my tastes. But I can’t deny that I don’t feel the American guilt every once in a while. After a large dinner or a second ice cream cone or going through an entire bag of Cheetos in my dorm room, I start questioning if I really should have done that. This idea of eating healthy is kind of programed into us. Even if I don’t go around analyzing the fat content of every meal, there is still a little voice in the back of my head.

Extended Essay #1: Final Draft

The blessings of liberty

                In my hometown there are at least eight places to get a burger: Smash Burger, Fat Burger, Two Guys, Freddy’s, Red Robin, and Village Inn, not to mention the steadfast Burger Kings and McDonalds’. I could list off the same number of restaurants specializing in Mexican, pizza, and Chinese. Clearly, Americans are not satisfied with only one option for their favorite foods. What does this say about our culture? We like choices. The ability to choose is an integral part of our country’s values. The Bill of Rights protects our right to make decisions; we are guaranteed freedom of religion, of speech, and of privacy in our own homes. Any career path is open to us and we can strive to attend any college we choose. This principle has clearly spilled over into the area of dining. By deciding when and where and what to eat, we connect to our national identity. Food can also serve to define us as individuals; the choices we make as consumers build our personal identity through our individual tastes and the associations we create between food and memories.  Our personal identity is the product of choice, and the ability to make those choices is essential to our national identity. The freedom to choose and a need to individualize lead to choice as a prevalent food value in American culture.

                An example of how choice is important in American society can be found in advertisement. The purpose of advertisements is to attract consumers. To do so, advertisers must look at the way people feel and think to make the most successful ad. Because of this process, looking at how an advertisement appeals to its audience can tell a lot about the consumer’s values and culture. Burger King’s ad campaign markets to an audience that likes choice; they have been letting customers “Have it [their] way” since 1954 (see Image 1). The ad that adorns paper tray liners and hangs, framed on the walls of Burger King places the customer first; underneath the bold “HAVE IT YOUR WAY,” the sub heading states “You have the right to have what you want, exactly when you want it” (see Image 1). Burger King has keyed into the fact that Americans like to choose what they eat and not be limited to a few, pre-selected options. Being able to customize an order allows individualization and a larger variety of choices.

                On a broader scale, simply noting the number of restaurants on any given commercial street illustrates American’s need for variety. Pull off any major interstate exit and a Wendy’s, Arby’s, Taco Bell, Subway, and some golden arches will be waiting. Where there is one eatery, it’s not unusual to find three or more other options nearby. Choice is obviously an important part of American culture. Being a center for the great American pastime, a ballpark can function as a good representation of this culture. At any baseball game, there are a variety of people in the stands. From race and age to couples, friends, and families, the fans at a ballgame really exemplify the American melting pot. While most may come for the game, there is also something to be said for the food; the options available at any given ballpark exemplify the principle of choice. When I attended a weekend Rockies game at Coors Field, this food value was apparent; the number and diversity of concessions was overwhelming.

                Coors Field houses an array of dining options from the traditional hot dog to the not so traditional basket of oysters. The typical built-in concession stands sell hot dogs, hamburgers, fries, popcorn, nachos, helmet sundaes and all other baseball staples.  Free-standing carts carry Dippin’ Dots, cotton candy, lemonade, and beer (Coors of course). In addition to this customary fare, there are plenty of novelty food items. Tornadoughs (a cheese or cinnamon covered twisted pretzel), salads, kettle corn, noodle bowls, burritos, and chocolate-covered fruit kabobs can also be purchased around the stadium. A more specialized burger can be found at Helton’s right behind left field as well as ice cream at Madeline’s. The type of food is not the only choice people can make at Coors Field; how someone eats is also up to them. For fans that don’t enjoy holding food in their laps, two restaurants are located around the park, the Mountain Ranch Bar and Grill and the Blue Moon smokehouse. For those who don’t want to leave their seats, vendors move throughout the stands, hawking frozen lemonade, hot chocolate, and beer.

                Similar to the Burger King ad, Coors Field allows fans to have it their way. With a multitude of choices, everyone can enjoy exactly what they’re craving. This sample of American life supports the food value of choice. A common value can create a unifying identity; as cultural analysts Nancy Albrecht and Brian Fortney note, “When individuals hold ‘core’ identity labels they are very deeply committed to the fundamental values and beliefs associated with that group…” (182). For Americans, one of these core labels can be considered choice; embodying this value as a group constructs a national identity. This country was built on the principle of a man’s right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. This basic concept encompasses all areas of daily life, whether it is finally buying a house or eating precisely what one wants for lunch. In the United States, people identify as free; this includes the freedom to eat. We are free to choose where, when, and what we eat; we can even choose who we share a meal with.  The selections made when preparing for a meal reflects American beliefs; our national identity leads to the privilege of choice. 

                Another way the food value of choice plays out is through personal identity. Sociologist Claude Fischler discusses how food is integral to a sense of identity (275). While national identity is about belonging, personal identity is about being different. Fischler states, “The way any given human group eats helps to assert its diversity, hierarchy and organization, and at the same time, both its oneness and otherness of whoever eats differently” (275). While a group of people may identify as Americans, it is their differences that set them apart and make them individuals. The choices a person make produce these differences; they serve to define who he or she is, which includes the food he or she chooses to eat. Fischler suggests two ways that food enters our identity: through our preferences and through our memories.

                Just as Burger King allows its customers to personalize their meal, many restaurants let the consumer pick and choose what goes onto their plate. At many sandwich shops, the diner can construct his or her meal from the bread to the sauce. Frozen yogurt places function similarly, permitting the customer to fill his or her own bowl and add toppings. Restaurants like these allow customers to express themselves; people “identify themselves in this framework by their tastes and distastes” (Fischler 286). Throughout high school, I would frequent Subway, grabbing a sandwich to go between activities. My usual is ham and white American on parmesan oregano bread topped with lettuce, green peppers, and spicy mustard. However trivial, each choice I make serves to define another aspect of my being. The individual choices I make are “representations of [my] ‘self’ with multiple labels” (Albrecht and Fortney 182); each preference says something about who I am. When I go to TCBY, I always order a chocolate milkshake with Oreos and cheesecake mixed in. But I can also remember a time when Nerds over a dish of vanilla frozen yogurt was my dessert of choice.

                Food produces strong personal connections for me. Being a military dependent, I have lived many places in my life, and each place has come to be associated with a different set of foods. Memories reinforce our identities by highlighting aspects of our lives; my memories of places tend to revolve around the food I experienced there. These foods serve as anchors for the many events of my childhood. Nerds in frozen yogurt reminds me of South Dakota and a day at the park and being pulled down the street in my little red wagon to the local TCBY. Freezing orange juice into popsicles brings back the feel of clay, catching bullfrogs in the ditch, and the pebbled drive way of my house in Virginia. Food acts as a stimulus for memories containing the places and actions that I identify with. Albrecht and Fortney present this facet of identity as “a product of multiple discourses and relationships” (182). We connect to past events, to “multiple discourses,” to solidify our sense of self. Choices we made growing up provide the memories that reinforce who we are in the present.

                This association between food and identity can be found within Geoff Nicholson’s ruminations in “Eating White” and Roy Ahn’s reflections in “Home Run: My Journey Back to Korean Food.” Growing up in England, “white” foods, bland meals with a bland color, were common to the English diet (Nicholson). This was especially true in the author’s household to the extent that he connects that type of food with his mother. Nicholson eats a plain cheese sandwich made on white bread in memory of his mother, showing how food is integrated into his sense of self (Nicolson 21). These “white” foods connect him to his family and country. Similarly, Ahn connects to his culture through the type of foods he chooses to eat. As a child growing up in the States with Korean parents, Ahn tried to find a happy medium between two very different cultures. He identified himself as American or Korean through food. Eating out with friends, Ahn downplayed his ethnic roots, while at home he enjoyed kimchi and ginseng chicken stew (13-14). Later in the article, Ahn discusses imparting his mixed culture on his newly-born son; he writes “…food remains a primary conduit through which I hope to instill in him the lessons of one half of his ethnic roots” (Ahn 15). As Ahn believes, when accompanied by meaningful connections, food is a tool for building identity.

Americans love choices, especially where food is involved; the sheer number of places to eat is a testament to this fact. Our inclination for choice springs from the fundamental values of our country. The choices we then make build our personal identities; through individual tastes and past experiences, we define who we are. My family is completely Americanized. We frequent Panda Express and Qdoba, and McDonald’s has been a staple in our diet ever since I can remember. In addition to identifying on a national level, we are each part of our own culture, with a unique set of dishes that define us. The dishes I have experienced growing up serve as focal points for memories that secure me to my identity. Crab cakes in Virginia; schnitzel, brochen, and curry frites from Germany – each food says something about me. The choices we make, whether it is because of personal taste or a connecting tradition, define who we are. The next time you are craving a burger or maybe your mother’s pot roast, note where and what you choose to eat. What might that say about you? 

Works Cited

Ahn, Roy. "Home Run: My Journey Back to Korean Food." Gastronomica: The Journal of Food and Culture 9.4 (2009): 12-15. Print.

Albrecht, Nancy and Brian Fortney. "Thinking Identity Differently: Dynamics of Identity in Self andInstitutional Boundary." Cultural Studies of Science Education 6.1 (2011): 181-186. OmniFile Full Text Select (H.W. Wilson). Web. 14 Apr. 2012

Fischler, Claude. "Food, Self, and Identity." Social Science Information 27.2 (1998): 275-92. Ebsco Host. Web. 22 Apr. 2012.

Nicholson, Geoff. "Eating White." Gastronomica: The Journal of Food and Culture 10.1 (2010): 21-23. Print.

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