"canned food" news and stories

As the East Coast prepares itself for Hurricane Earl, folks are evacuating the shorelines, battening down the proverbial hatches -- and making extra trips to the grocery store. Even if the wind is howling outside, after all, you still gotta eat. The Christian Science Monitor -- based in Boston, which expects to be hard hit by Earl -- consulted an expert to put together a few tips for how to shop for this (and any) potential disaster.

First, what not to buy: salty, fatty canned meat. Marcia Magnus, professor of Dietetics & Nutrition at Florida International University and lead author of The Healthy Hurricane/Disaster Cookbook, told CSM, "That's the worst thing you can do." Florida has dealt with plenty of hurricanes, and this Floridian advises going for highly nutritious canned veggies as well as oatmeal and dried fruit. Disaster or no, think rationally, not emotionally. "Under post-disaster conditions, everybody is at maximum anxiety levels. If there isn't physical loss, there often is emotional loss. What we tend to do when we have emotional loss is find comfort in food," Magnus points out.

Bisphenol-A (or BPA), a chemical present in certain plastics, is an endocrine disruptor that has been linked to heart disease, cancer, and endocrine disorders, including diabetes and obesity. With all the scary news about bisphenol A in canned food that's coming out right now, we were left wondering, well, what IS safe to eat these days?

Experts have some general tips about how to ensure the safest, healthiest food supply for our families. According to the Environmental Working Group, it may not be possible to completely eliminate BPA from our lives, but we can take simple steps to minimize its presence.

First, and perhaps most obvious: Look for containers that claim to be BPA-free. The Soft Landing, a blog devoted to avoiding endocrine disruptors, listed several brands that use BPA-free cans for at least some of their products, including Eden Foods, Trader Joe's, and Native Forest.

First it was baby products, then reusable drinking bottles. Now a new report released last week by the National Workgroup for Safe Markets, a coalition of more than 17 public and environmental health groups, shows that bisphenol-A is present in most food preserved in cans (not just in the lining of the cans themselves, where it is used to protect food from corrosion and bacteria). BPA, as the chemical is also called, has been linked to a range of ills including cancer, infertility, and obesity.

For the new study (charmingly titled "No Silver Lining"), researchers analyzed 50 cans of food from 19 U.S. states and Ontario, Canada. BPA was found in a whopping 92 percent of the collected samples, with the top level being the highest yet reported in the U.S. -- 1,140 parts per billion. (In case you're keeping track, it was a can of Del Monte French Style Green Beans, and it came from Wisconsin.)

In the past, some have argued that while BPA is certainly present in a variety of plastics, the amount that actually leaches into our food is negligible. Not so here. Mike Schade, a co-author of the study, told AOL News that "real-life meals involving one or more cans of food can cause an individual to ingest levels of BPA that have been shown to cause health effects in laboratory animal studies."

Perhaps this is just indicative of the sort of folks with whom I keep company, but I've known at least half a dozen people who've used a brain can as comedic decor, and it's certainly been the butt of jokes around the blogosphere. I cannot, however, recollect any of 'em actually popping the top and feasting. My husband's Aunt Frances, though, couldn't get enough of them as a kid in Plymouth, NC, and told me how she'd hover right by her mother in the kitchen so she could gobble down brains and eggs straight out of the hot skillet.

Who am I to argue with Aunt Frances? I picked up the can in the picture above at Harris Teeter over Christmas in North Carolina, and fixed myself some brains and eggs for breakfast this morning. Picture after the jump.

I have never understood why there could even be a debate about Spam, but taking my own family as an example, I suppose it should be expected. My family is divided. My Mom and I can't stand the sight or smell of what looks like, well, Spam. Dad and sisters, on the other hand, absolutely love the stuff, and in fact, will do what I consider an act of utter I-don't-know-what, eat Spam "raw," straight out of the can.

I am absolutely intrigued that there has to be a sizeable enough contingent of Spam-lovers that almost 6 billion cans of the processed meat have been produced since its introduction into the world. Inspired by an article by Brad Schleicher and Stephanie Shapiro in the Baltimore Sun last week, I wondered, "Do people who claim to like Spam really like how it tastes? What is it about the stuff that is so appealing? Or even a little bit appealing?"

Schleicher says he loves it. In fact, he describes his first childhood memory of it: "I loved the strong aroma, the rich flavor and the smooth and creamy texture. That moment for me was a lot like the one most kids experience eating their first ice-cream sundaes, except that my food wasn't a sundae. It happened to be cold processed ham and pork."

On the other (more sensible, in my opinion) hand, Shapiro hates Spam. She says, ""Spam was the color of the 1950s: preternaturally pink, a slightly speckled flesh tone shared by Caucasians and pigs. When fried, Spam acquired an even more unfortunate hue, kind of like a radioactive tongue."

So I ask you, dear Slashfood readers, about Spam. Do you love it? Or, do you, like me, hate it?

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