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Should we thank Junk Food Blog for bringing this outrage to a broad attention?
It's first destination, of course, is the microwave. Then it promises to affix itself directly to your arteries. That name again: Jimmy Dean Chocolate Chip Pancakes & Sausage on a Stick.
Should I feel nauseous or just awed that some evil genius had the temerity to combine nitrites, ultra processed crabs and trans fat SO conveniently?
You may have already encountered the lurid jacket of Eric Schlosser's docu-depresser Fast Food Nation. Written a few years back, this fine little muckraker kickstarted some sophisticated fast food protest.
Director Richard Linklater, whose name you may recognise from Slackers or School of Rock, mutated the polemic into a drama for film. It's open right about now - or indeed very soon. And, heavens, it's bleak.
Decidedly not a first-date film. Unless, of course, you and your consort are each grave little Vegans to whom a whiff of social Armageddon is even sexier than Patchouli. I would say, however, that it's engaging in a sad way.
I didn't leave the cinema uplifted. Nor did I leave feeling hungry. I did leave with the desire to recommend this film, with caveats!, to others.
It's an elegant map of the links between food, industrial relations and community. Even if it is depressing.
Until this very morning, my admiration for Cheddar, Somerset was hazy and limited by dim gratitude for its piquant cheesy namesake.
An accidental stumble into the region's local paper reveals that Cheddar continues its artisanal traditions. I'm always easily seduced by rustic online promises of handmade ciders, ruddy yokels overcharging at farmers markets and anything whatsoever to do with goat's milk.
Ah. Another agrestic food town to dream about and never visit...
The colossally cool thing about this little foodie-propelled community, however, is that they're striving to make it an all Fairtrade zone.
As aforementioned, I'm all for a fromage fuelled revolution. When everyday folk dare to question the might of liberalised economies in these practical ways, I'm so very impressed.
Food and community have, until the current era, always been so intertwined. It is genuinely heartening to see people abandon the cult of the individual just for a moment to refigure their local and international communities.
Mmm. Cheddar.
Thanks to the relentless fad spotting faculty of all at cribcandy, you can now lounge on Nigri Sushi.
While Sushi is my preferred way to ingest Essential Fatty Acids, I remain a feeble itamae ( pron ita-meh-ee, meaning sushi chef).
A Japenese friend called Mayumi assures me that this is the order of things. Apparently women are too fiery to handle a dish so sensitive to temperature and PH balance
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September 27th 2006 00:27
“Frittering money on pretentious organics!”
If you’ve ever had a parent to stay, you’ve had your habits as a consumer examined. Recently, The Bad Hostess enjoyed a lengthy visit from her papa. Yes, we had a marvellous time boosting the filial bond. Yet, when it came to the What’s For Dinner conversation, that link became a little knotty.
Fortunately, Dad and I share an eagerness to scoff Ga Xoi Mo, Pho, Goi Cuon and, indeed, anything picked from the artful grill of Vietnam. With the possible exception of blood tofu. Can’t quite get my gums around that one, yet
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Ideological Indulgence...mmmm
I may be a food-snorting sow. This does not discount the fact of my little piggy conscience. Even in a reverie of extreme truffle type worship, my internal snout of guilt may quiver. Oink.
Perhaps it was the film The High Cost of Low Price that transformed me from sluggish consumer into, um, sluggish but remorseful consumer. Whatever the case, I now find myself carefully vexing over the provenance of everything I purchase. Including, of course, that stuff I purchase most carefully: food.
I’m certain you’re familiar with the Slow Food types. In fact, Australian piglets will be able to (slowly) inhale the fruits of this radical, slow labour this very weekend. Even though, to paraphrase an associate of mine, the Slow Foodies can tend toward an unfortunate Spelt and Lentil menu, they basically rock. Who’d-a-thunk that a broad cultural conscience could taste so good? This is where anti-globalisation and delectable hedonism meet. Should be more of it
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Comment by The Bad Hostess
on Meticulous Consumption