Pontormo

P.S. I know strawberries are classified as vegetables.

Here's another relevant thread from the past: Strawberries...going the way of Red Delicious?. It's good to know you cover this particular berry at great length in your book, Russ. I have to nod at comments made about the difference between the pleasures of waiting for the weeks that strawberries are at their peak in spring and what we expect now: chocolate-coated strawberries on Valentine's Day and placed on the other side of bottles of white wine and seltzer from the shrimp and chicken satay, trays of green grapes, strawberries and pineappple at catered events year-round. Perhaps the issue has come up before, but Driscoll's really dominates the market and now offers organic berries at Whole Foods, for example. Is there any way consumers can effect change and topple the regime of the hyper berries with fuzzy white hollow centers? I'm thinking of boycotts of Gallo wine, grapes, higher-priced sugar, etc. Who knows how influential they were, but clearly that is not the answer. Even if we put aside the fact that many shoppers do not take seasonality into account when buying produce, I have to wonder how many of us have tasted excellent fruit picked nearby.

My error--I obviously read in haste. I hadn't read the entries you posted in August 2005 about this month's two regions, so it was great to scan them and find both your qualified remarks about Calabrian eggplant and Alberto's theory concerning the Indian-Chinese route through which the Greek origins of pizza may be traced.During the lull between food blogs from Snow Country & Amsterdam, fans might find distraction in the archives of this blog: The Other Side of the Ocean. Scroll down to December 15 and then move upward through the 18th for accounts of a couple's time in Basilicata. While not a food blog-writer, Nina nonetheless takes pictures of meals in addition to people and her surroundings.

Always go for the obvious, Judith. It's the pasta shape that determines the regional association, that, and in the case of the orecchiette, the broccoli, though I've always made it with anchovies and garlic; sausage would be better without the tomato secondo me. More relevant is the compromise--or irony--represented by a statement familiar to most of us. This from his personal Web site:

Gorgeous, Klary! Actually, while compiling sources, I came across one recipe that gave me pause when it comes to attributing Eggplant Parmigiana to Basilicata. I am not about to draw conclusions from limited research and information culled exclusively from the internet at this point. However, the challenge of approaching a region that is so under-represented in cookbooks makes the effort interesting and useful when the births and pending arrivals of so many babies are putting dampers on participation. Not wanting to associate myself with the beliefs or practices of our most recent Pasolini revisionist, I nonetheless figure this is a way to do penance for not cooking anything from Abruzzo/Molise in April. Here's a reformatted, quasi-transcription of a recipe that I was going to post at one point, anyway. I'll add a link for my source along with further information later: Melanzane al forno (Baked Eggplant) 1 kilo eggplant 150 g black olives 100 g salt-packed anchovies 50 g capers 2 ripe tomatoes—sliced and seeded, I am guessing from instructions below 1 stale bread roll Olive oil (described as being very "soft" or mild-tasting) Oregano Parsley Garlic Salt Wash the eggplant, cut it in half and make some cuts in the internal pulp, salt and leave to drain for an hour. Pit the olives and finely chop the parsley, wash, debone and cut the anchovies into small pieces. Remove the soft bread from inside the crust of the bread roll, crumble it and put it into a mixing bowl with the olives, the parsley, the finely chopped garlic, the capers, the anchovies and a pinch of oregano, mixing all ingredients together well. Wash and dry the eggplants and put into an oven dish with the open part facing upwards and fill the hollow with the mixture. Cover with the fillets [seeded slices, I suspect] of tomato, sprinkle with plenty of oil and put into a preheated oven, cooking for about one hour. The recipe is called "ancient"--but experience in reading sources from the 16th-18th centuries suggests that the word "antiche" often distinguishes something "very old" from something as new as a generation or two ago. The tomatoes tell us something, but when you're dealing with a farmer's family traditions as opposed to Scappi's papal court... It makes sense that in a region defined by cucina povera, vegetables, bread and pasta are central to the diet. There are clearly many dishes featuring vegetables including eggplant, artichokes, potatoes, tomatoes and foraged greens. Especially now that tourism is beginning to affect cooking, other regions provide ingredients and some of their traditions have infiltrated indigenous culture, including major holidays when the cakes and pastries of Naples, Puglia and Sicliy slide into local ovens. Note the presence of anchovies in the recipe above; most likely they're from Sicily. Therefore, mozzarella* and Parmigiana are probably available. Yet, cows are not a major presence in Basilicata. Beef appears in a few dishes, but sheep, goat, chickens and rabbits are the animals the Lucani turn to more frequently. I'm going to postpone any comments about pigs since my sources vary given the animal's central importance in a few gory rituals, a dessert made with its blood, and of course, the sausages that are right up there with chili peppers as defining elements in the region's cuisine. As far as cheese-making goes, ewe's milk prevails. It's used for ricotta forte, a type of cheese also found in Puglia and produced over the course of a month, adding a little more salt each day to increase the flavor. I therefore wonder if Basilicata's baked eggplant dish simply evokes Eggplant Parmigiana. Surely, there are more ways in which a vegetable as versatile as eggplant is prepared, so I will be looking for other preparations with sliced, fried eggplant, layered with sauce, cheese and baked. *ETA: Just tried a quick search to see how internet sources associate eggplant parmigiana w Basilicata. No luck yet, but here's an essential clue: Source.

I did a little hunting on Basilicata only and have lots of links to add some time later in the day or before the end of the week at any rate. However, a few are worth adding quickly right now: First, it would seem that one book in English includes recipes in an exploration of Basilicata, though it looks as if libraries would you your best bet for flipping through a copy of James Martino's work. Formerly known as Lucania, the Italian region of Basilicata does seem to be making efforts to attract tourists and has built a fine Web site in the process. Here's one page its authors call Lucanian Delicatessen which actually features local foods. Note the side bars devoted to relevant topics. After giving our otherwise, mostly beloved Mario Batali grief in a different thread in this forum yesterday, I thought I'd make up with the fashionisto by drawing your attention to a Web site I'm not sure any of us have linked before: Mariobatali.com. This must be a response to the Food Network's cancellation of his show (?). At any rate, I've linked the site's overview of Basilicata, but there is much to click and browse. To conclude on a light note, sort of, and this is my point: How do you flip a frittata made with 30 eggs? Here's an account of the 16th-century origins of that rather cumbersome dish.

Kevin, I believe I cited John & Galina Mariani who claim that from 1890-1910 of the 5 million Italians who came to the United States, 4 million were from the southern regions of Campania, Calabria, Abruzzo, Puglia and Sicily. Remembering an article on Basilicata in Gourmet last year, I found a reference in a blog that implies the region is about to become the new tourist destination. (The other articles were also in Condé-Nast publications, though.) Evan Kleiman wrote the short piece, accompanied by recipes in April 2006. The blogger also mentions Carlo Levi's Christ Stopped in Eboli which Francesco Rosi adapted as a film in 1979. Available on DVD, it may be worth renting for the cinematography alone. Pasolini shot The Gospel According to Matthew in Calabria, should you prefer to watch a classic film after preparing something frugal from this region. ETA: The latter would be especially good for a newly baked loaf.

Kevin, I wish we could all deliver covered dishes to tide you and your wife over for the weeks and months ahead. Andrew, are you implying something relevant in your justification for serving okra? Elie, look at how much an emphasis on nutrition and vitamins has contributed to the health of Americans! * * * About all I did in honor of this region was pick up a bottle of red wine, though it remains unopened. Also spoke to a couple who sells lamb at my farmer's market about purchasing a milk-fed lamb (abbacchio) since they raise sheep in Virginia. Apparently regulations governing the slaughter of animals are extremely restrictive. While a friend and I could have ordered a whole animal, it would have to be sent to one of the very few meat processing facilities in this area--which is actually some distance away. The fee for processing would have been around $75 in addition to the cost of the meat. The head would not be returned to us. All organs would be discarded as well. Since I couldn't figure how to make my dulcimer do double-duty in the kitchen, I was also pleased to find a package of spaghetti alla chitarra on the shelves of a supermarket that has switched from local to Dutch ownership. Here's their upscale line: Simply Enjoy. Scroll down to see the pasta. Can't say my sautéed ramps were in the spirit of the region.

Here's something all of us Mario Batali fans might appreciate: a new line of frozen pasta dishes brought to you by the fine folk at Progresso. Who knew Puglia was "the Florence of the South" and that an entire region could become a small city packed with tourists? At any rate, Mario's vast experience in learning and sharing the specialties of discrete Italian regions lends itself to promoting gemelli pasta with meatballs as an authentic Puglese dish. I learned about this new product line thanks to praise from Ed Levine of Serious Eats.

Hiroyuki: The reason you give for learning English is both touching and hilarious. Thank you for sharing the story along with everything else you've reported this week. If time remains, and if you have answers, I would like to know WHY the ice cream cone rises triumphant over the prone form of the drunken businessman: Might this be a Japanese version of a Public Service announcement in which the pleasures of ice cream are promoted over those of sake? A sugar rush and a little bit of pudgy flesh around the bellies of the lactose-tolerant are not as alarming as the consequences of indulging in too much drink?The fiddlehead ferns you found are beautiful! They are prized far north in the United States (Maine, for example), but very expensive and not of good quality in the gourmet food stores that carry them where I live. Here is a link to Kikkoman's explanation of Shokuiku, offered in English. What a wonderful idea! Kristin's thread on the school lunch program in Japan is one of the best things here at eGullet, so I appreciate your introduction to more about this side of Japanese culture. I wonder how much corporate sponsorship affects what the public learns. It would be great to see similar efforts here in the United States, but companies would not be able to resist the temptation to market their products. McDonald's as a food educator? Blech!!! (Translation: ) Finally...or almost, finally, are you able to recommend anything Japanese from recent years that would be classified as "food literature" and available in English translation? I am speaking broadly, so that Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto might be one example of such a book. However, is there is a best-selling example of shokuiku that promotes traditional regional dishes, or explores national trends in eating? You probably do not have the time or interest to explore many eG forums, but perhaps you've heard of Michael Pollan, Bill Buford, Ruhlman, Parsons or Fast Food Nation. Are there Japanese journalists or authors who write books about food that do not contain recipes? Again, thank you. I hope your son's recovery is swift and that you and your daughter remain healthy during Golden Week.

While one of my recent dinners* is probably the reason I'm waiting for the plumber, I would like to raise a glass** to Klary in honor of her birth*** in the best time of year and under the perfect sign (Taurus, I presume? Domestic, earthy, stubborn...). And Little Ms. Foodie, I am so glad to learn you could bake her a cake for her fourth birthday celebration were you both only in the same city. *Zuni Cafe roast chicken with bread salad? **of water, but pretty, made in France with embossed bees and gold rim. ***Rhubarb-Strawberry-Mango Compote, recipe modified from Deborah Madison: 1 1/2 lbs. rhubarb, trimmed, washed & sliced into 1/2 in. pieces 1/4 t salt 3/4 c sugar (I actually used a little less given personal preferences & next ingredient; recipe calls for 1 cup) Crystallized ginger (amount according to personal taste; keep in mind amount of sugar coating pieces), chopped fine 1 Meyer lemon 1 pint strawberries (good to do with mediocre container), hulled and quartered 1 Champagne mango, peeled and diced 1. Toss first 4 ingredients into saucepan and then zest lemon (I use microplane grater, making sure just to remove orange peel in thin flecks, leaving white pith) over contents. 2. Cut lemon into two domes to juice and pour juice into saucepan. Mix until vegetable (rhubarb) thoroughly coated w sugar & zest. 3. Put items in second list in bowl large enough to accommodate cooked rhubarb mixture. 4. Stew rhubarb over medium heat, stirring fairly frequently if not constantly, to make sure all pieces spend some time on the bottom of the pan, close to heat as sugar dissolves with some of the rhubarb. Adjust heat to low if necessary. In about 10-15 minutes (or less; test after 5 mins.), all the rhubarb should be tender, some pieces liquified, others still quite intact but soft when pierced with knife or fork. 5. Pour hot contents of the pan into the bowl of uncooked fruit and stir. Let sit until cool and chill. Great with plain, tart yogurt and sprinkling of granola for breakfast or for dessert, with vanilla ice cream and thin gingersnaps or hand-cracked ice cream made with organic Hawaiian gingerroot, or strawberry frozen yogurt, mango sorbet, Meyer-lemon buttermilk cake, Angel-food...

Briefly, in Italy, the dairy producing regions and the seafood producing regions in Italy didn't overlap so, due to the hyper-regionalised nature of Italian cuisine, there weren't any dishes that contained seafood and cheese. When Italian cuisine arose in America, those regional boundaries were erased and the uniform "Italian-American" cuisine was created. "authentic", regionalised Italian cuisine was created largely as a backlash to this and the no cheese with seafood rule became an emblematic touchstone of all that was wrong with Italian-American cuisine. It eventually made it's way back to Italy too but it was essentially largely popularised by Americans. ← Guy, I've never heard that explanation. Interesting. There are some traditional regional dishes in which cheese and fish are both ingredients. However, Alberto, an Italian expat returning to the homeland on vacation, mentions a modern dish that pairs tuna with fresh cheeses: See Post 29, then exchange with Docsconz in #37 & 38.Cf. Faith Willinger: The biggest lie And this example: Kevin72's calzones or Post 75. Finally, while more about San Francisco and fish stews, cf. this general discussion. * * * I never knew there were people who actually preferred stuffing/dressing baked in casseroles. Of course the moist glop retrieved from inside the bird is choice!

Hiroyuki: Good morning! I hope you are well rested after last night's exhaustion. Please accept my best wishes for your wife and for you and your children. I am not sure I've read more than four works of Japanese literature, but Snow Country is one of them. I took a copy from my shelves last night after catching up with your blog and found it almost unbearably heart-wrenching and beautiful. That final image....! The region seems transformed when compared to the remote world of inn, spa and village that Kawabata described more than sixty years ago. This photograph reminds me a bit of what it was like to live in Colorado. Running errands on the weekend, going to a chain supermarket after a trip to the hardware store, you walk across asphalt down aisles of parked cars, then look up and see that you are surrounded by mountains. I never got used to them--nor how out-of-place the large, boxy commercial buildings seemed in their presence. The lid on this jar of umeboshi was probably photographed upside down because we have always read English from left to right rather than than the reverse. We tend to "read" images the same way and the most prominent feature of the graphic design (light yellow box) appears on the left in this photograph. (I understand that the modern system of writing Japanese switches from the traditional style of columns running from right to left, but maybe commercial artists don't follow the new system? I have no idea how prevalent yokogaki is.)Finally, your meals interest me a great deal because you purchase so many items that come in small sealed packages that contain mixtures and at least partially prepared ingredients. I remember a scene in a fairly recent movie by Hirokazu Koreeda in which a young boy shops to feed his siblings, picking up one bright, shiny package after another in a small market. I can't quite figure out how to distinguish the differences between my limited understanding of the use of packaged foods in Japan and how people shop and cook in the United States. What I am about to say is simplistic or a gross generalization. But there seems to be a cultural difference when it comes to preparing meals. Here, the emphasis is on convenience. We may take cans of fried oniony bits and condensed mushroom soup and bake a casserole after combining these with frozen green beans, but many Americans like to avoid the hassle of cooking altogether and just pop a fully prepared packaged dish into the microwave for a quick meal. You seem to be more creative in combining numerous packets of stuff with raw ingredients. Even when the meal is quick and improvised such as: In other words, you're cooking.

By "manifesto", I assume the document should be political in nature, distinguishing the text from a treatise designed primarily to promote good health, balance the four humours of the melancholic and so on. The Slow Food movement seems the perfect example of a group that views food in political terms.* Wendell Berry, too. I had no idea the Futurists published a cookbook and wonder if the group's celebration of machinery, war and the destruction of all things traditional led to mass-produced spaghetti topped with meatballs and Kraft Parmesan cheese. Or judging by what might be a frontespiece, perhaps it's only anarchy they seek? At any rate, the lowly, anti-aristocratic sardine appears in a very French list. Or is the intention to be more wide-ranging? Are you rifling through printed sources and the internet for anything that sounds pre- or proscriptive when the author addresses food? Vegetarianism and ascetic/Stoic sensibilities are central to many texts of this nature. I'll defer to someone more knowledgeable when it comes to the Eastern world, whether Confucian, Buddhist, Hindu or perhaps even Shinto (???) or Maoist. In the West, there's Plutarch on The Eating of Flesh and the attitudes inherited by Western monasticism. Unlike Pythagoras, for example, medieval Christians did not believe animals had what they called souls; therefore, demons easily possessed them, favoring pigs (in light of Judiac tradition, no doubt). Nonetheless, meat was associated with wealth and earthly power and both monks and nuns take vows of poverty, thereby avoiding carnivorous diets during the holiest days in the liturgical calendar. It should be noted that The Rule of St. Benedict does not make a big stink about eating the animals whose pens, houses and stables were clustered north and primarily south of the entrance in ideal plans of early medieval monastic communities. Skipping ahead, there's Thoreau and a more secularized notion of "Higher Law" in Walden: And to skip further ahead to the present day, the Green Party includes 7 Reasons to Become a Vegan on its Web site along with its manisfesto. Actually, the link came up when I was thinking of Diet for a Small Planet. *NOT to be be confused with crockpot cooking methods as the fuchsia hyperlink would suggest. Instead, click here.

HINT: Subtitulos ← >> The Spirit of the Beehive? ← SI !

HINT: Subtitulos

Mitch: Sorry the fig salumi was disappointing, though I have to say I envy you your cheeses. It's the romance of the pecorino that ages underground that intrigued me. Judith: I'm glad Mitch proved to be a really good cook. The stew looks delicious. * * * Just logged in for a short report. I see why Elie previously wrote about a soup inspired by Le Marche rather than specifying a particular recipe he tried. I read a number and combined a few ideas while remaining otherwise as faithful as I could be to something in Paula Wolfert's book on Mediterranean grains and greens. She tells a lovely story about Felice Orazi who forages for soup ingredients in the springtime, bringing home something called bubbolino, a leafy green that grows wild. I am reminded of something Adam Balic wrote about his Tuscan brother-in-law who couldn't quite bring himself to launch into home-cooking while in Australia since the ingredients are so different, but I followed suggestions to substitute shredded leaves of arugula, asparagus and peas for texture and taste, respectively. Since it is only March and arugula lacks the heartiness that it has when grown outdoors, I am not sure the substitution was suitable. However, the combination of caramelized vegetables, a bit of red chili, garlic and the slice of Prosciutto I added to the sofrito all worked out beautifully. Farro is cooked separately and then added to the pot along with chicken stock. Pecorino finished it off. Yummy and the way I made it, approximately 685 calories for a bowl filled to the brim.

For me? You are so kind, thank you, they're gorgeous!While I discovered the purple Peruvian blues do not mash well, I love them roasted and they're so dramatic. I was wondering what other colors just haven't made it up north. (Godito: thanks for identifying them! Care to tell us what the tiny cactusy vegetable is upthread?) And, yes, the islands are truly otherwordly. Reminds me of the Japanese concept of Floating Island even though the significance is utterly different.

Shaya: I know I am late to the event, but a mom can't hear "Awwwwww!" enough, can she? You really need to print and frame that picture of your son. I can't believe he went for saffron let alone the rest of the menu! Bruce: I think the prolonged enunciation of a vowel becomes: "Ohhhhhhhhhh!" Klary: Is rhubarb truly omnipresent this early in the Netherlands? We have nearly a month to go before it appears locally in the outdoor markets. Wendy: No roasts yet? Have you lawyered up? Just in an unoffical, prodding way? I am serious!

Starving? "Methinks the lady doth protest too much"--even if she is a guy.

"For well he knew a woman hath no beard." –Chaucer, The Miller's Tale In spring a young man's fancy may lightly turn to figs, but there is something to be said for the mussel. Piled in a colander and run under cold water as you scrub and tug the scruffy beards from the resistant shells, mussels shed the dull, muted quality of sea glass and assume a dramatic blue-black sheen. Thrown into an awaiting pot, flame turned high and licking the sides, plied with wine and steam, the tightly clamped shells yield to reveal pale quivering creatures that taste of the ocean. Pick one up, and you really ought to blush. A dark knob rises at the top, dividing the creamy flesh into two lobes. Soft, tender, inviting, vulnerable. How could you resist? I gave Fabio Trabocchi another chance this weekend and prepared his very simple recipe for Spaghetti con i moscioli. Rather, I read his recipe and followed the parts of it that made sense. Basically, you cook the mussels in wine in a heavy, covered pot just until they open. Scoop them out, strain the liquid, and remove (at least) half from their shells and set them aside until the last minute. Fry tomatoes in olive oil for only five minutes, add cooking juices and toss with spaghetti, minced parsley and mussels. Serve. Quibbles: when you're writing for American home cooks why specify 3 ½ pounds of mussels when they are sold in two-pound bags? Why refer to spaghetti in the name of the dish but call for spaghettini in the smaller print of the recipe? Bigger gripes: ¾ of a cup of olive oil to sauté three tomatoes (or four times that amount of canned Italian plum tomatoes which he should have mentioned as an option) for five minutes. Nearly a bottle of Pinot Grigio to steam the mussels in a pot you've been instructed to heat intensely beforehand. Since you can drown a bunny easy in a bathtub, why bother carrying it out back to the swimming pool? I may have made only half the recipe, but this was clearly a waste of wine. The sequence of steps is flawed since you're supposed to work on the sauce while your spaghetti is cooking. If you bothered to read the recipe thoroughly and actually bought a pound of thinner strands instead, your pasta will be done long before the strained mussel juices and wine reduce sufficiently. Also, the novice might appreciate knowing that the spaghetti should be undercooked and then thrown back into the reducing sauce to finish even before the mussels are returned to the pot so that the strands become infused with the sauce. The strength of the recipe is in the first step. I didn't realize that when I opened the lid on my enameled Dutch oven, a flame would shoot up since the alcohol had not yet burned out. However, Trabocchi does tell you to be both careful and quick. As a result of minimal cooking time, the mussels were some of the best I have ever had this far from Mount-St.-Michel and youth. The dish is perfect in its simplicity with no need for shallots or garlic. I saved half of the shelled mussels to use in a salad the next day and they were perfect. Nothing rubbery about them; your nose and tongue still recognize the brine.

Depends upon how much money WFM is paying me for my produce, grass-fed beef or yogurt. I thought farmers go to these markets because they end up taking home a lot more than when they do selling directly to a supermarket, even factoring in how much they pay the people they hire to help set up and sell, gas, time spent away from the herds and fields.There's one local dairy that has been selling its ricotta, mozzarella, and now yogurt to Whole Foods for years. It also sets up at farmer's markets around town and in Virginia. WF used to sell their wares for a price lower than what the dairy asked at the farmer's market. Today I noticed that was no longer the case.

uhm, actually Pollan appropriated that word from Chez Panisse, which has had a "forager" on staff since the early '80s. ← Russ, I was unaware of the use of the word "forager" at Chez Panisse, so thanks for the information. I didn't realize either restaurants or supermarkets referred to "sourcing" (sorry, Busboy) that way. After Pollan took on the role of a hunter and gatherer, foraging in the woods for wild mushrooms, etc., when he sat down to write about his experience, he may have had the traditional and literal meaning of the word in mind, too. John Mackey's Open Letters on his blog not only criticized Michael Pollan for unfair treatment, but also graciously vowed to respond to *OD* by increasing his commitment to local farmers and small ventures that produce the kind of food that the store sells. It's been a while since I read the letter and since this is just a post, I am going to write solely from memory which is admittedly fuzzy. However, I believe he also said that he was planning on new measures and directions in light of the troublesome book. Therefore, in my original post I also assumed the new "forager" represented a promised Pollan-inspired direction. * * * As for WFM, the article Chris cites refers to the company's first full-time forager without mentioning whose duties might have included foraging before. I am probably repeating myself (cf. thread from which this represents a "spin-off") by saying that the company used to have a backdoor policy whereby it was up to the discretion of the Team Leaders of individual departments to accept inventory from local farmers, small "artisans", etc. A long conversation with an employee at WFM who had been with his employer for a decade is my source. He said he missed those days. The practice was all very loose and I suppose that is what made it problematic as a food co-op became a major corporation. But here I go speculating again. You're better off asking someone who knows the business. I was also a resident of Boulder, Colorado the year WFM moved into the home turf of Wild Oats. Its strategy was to sell organic staples (e.g. milk from Horizon, a local dairy) at lower prices, to copy what was working at Wild Oats and Alfalfa (another similar type of store) and to dazzle all the hardcore professional athletes, rock climbers and runners with the best produce, wild salmon below cost, etc. Smart, obviously. I lived half a mile away and certainly was happy. Its foraging included making a deal with the one really good bakery in town, according to one report which is only rumor. I was told the bakery could not sell to restaurants, catering companies, etc., just to Whole Foods. This may not be the case, but I don't see how much more business the tiny little operation could have done other than give WFM its daily bread. I am sure the measure was a boon to both parties concerned. You'll notice my original post mentioned what I said in the old thread too: local farmers and small producers approached by WFM have all been pleased by the nature of interactions. The farmer's market where I volunteer has a good relationship with the company. For example, the founders of the market invited a consultant from WF to provide cooking demonstrations that feature foods from local farms.

Count me in as someone who thinks it's a scream to learn that Whole Foods is co-opting the word "foraging" from Pollan's final chapter on the most elemental way to prepare a meal. It's sort of like the slide show John Mackey used to present his understanding of food history: after an age of industrialization we stand, like Petrarch on the top of the mountain looking down upon a Golden Age, one whose renewal he fosters in a new "Ecological Age". While he characterizes the work of his nemesis (?) as "brilliant" he just doesn't seem to understand what Pollan critiques in his overview of organic farms gone industrial. When a large corporation transacts business with local farmers, its motives are both moral and geared toward increasing profit. We've mentioned a bit about these initiatives before and heard positive feedback from the "Little Guy" involved. But come on, no matter how cool the rep from WFM looks in hiking boots, she just ain't foraging when she goes out to expand the territories within her company's boundaries.

Actually, Ms. Jones, I believe the topic has run its course.