A couple of weeks ago, I found myself at Aldi's. For those of you not in the know, it's a discount grocery store that often carries an eclectic assortment of stuff. I like to stop in occasionally, as you never know when you might hit upon cheap maple syrup or European dark chocolate. During my last visit, I picked up a two-pound bag of split peas for next to nothing, entranced by the idea of big pots of soup to keep me warm during these cold winter days.

The only problem with that vision is that I've never made soup with split peas before. I could go searching my cookbooks and the internet for some recipes, but I thought that instead, I'd ask all you Slashfood readers. I know that there have to be a few of you out there with a favorite, makes your family cheer, totally delicious split pea soup recipe. So please dish! Tell me how to turn these dried peas into something wonderful!

It all started pretty simply. Ian Cheney and Curt Ellis, interested in food production in this country, cast their eyes on corn growing in Iowa. They head for Greene, Iowa, a town from which they both happen to descend. They lease an acre of land from a local farmer and plant their corn. They stay with their crop, all the while doing research into cattle feed lots, the production of high fructose corn syrup, the diabetes epidemic in this country and the ways in which agriculture reform in the seventies set us up for the farming situation that we currently face.

If you are interested in food production in America, King Corn is a film to see. It is honest and fairly free from schtick. It presents the issues clearly, gives the experts opportunities to talk and makes me want to steer clear of most commercial brands of foods (since everything seems to contain high fructose corn syrup these days).

The film opened in New York today and will be showing across the country throughout the fall. For all the dates and cities, click here. The YouTube trailer is inserted after the jump for those of you who'd like to give it a gander.

Michelin-starred chef, Marcus Wareing of the Pétrus restaurant at the Berkeley hotel, in the UK, said that the standards in airline fare were higher than that of the average pub. While many pubs rely on canned soups and old sandwiches with little sign of improvement orver the years, the airlines are constantly trying to "up their game." Wareing takes a rather optimistic view of the recent discontinuation of food service on many airlines, however, seeming to imply that the reason they have done this is because they don't want to serve sub-standard food in an effort to cut costs.

Does anyone agree with this? Granted, some of the airlines do try to serve quality foods, but they know that people will eat just about anything on planes and readily take advantage of that fact. The quality of the food may be better from a freshness and food-safety standpoint, but that doesn't change the taste.

It sounds like Wareing needs to frequent some different pubs.

 

 

As appetizing as roadkill ordinarily is, I still don't think that I would eat it. Ever. Surely the 5 second rule will have long since ceased to apply to the "food" unless you were the one who hit it with your car, which is not really the most humane way to procure food. There are some people who have a substantially different view, though, and Arthur Boyt is one of them.

Mr. Boyt eats roadkill. Frequently. In fact, the only time he doesn't eat roadkill is on the occasions when he dines out. He started eating it 50 years ago, collecting it near his home in Cornwall, England, as a way to save money. Now 66 years old, he hopes to publish a roadkill cook book that contains all of his favorite recipes for meats such as badger, hedgehog, rabbit and rat. He has eaten hunting dogs (lurchers), cats, squirrels, foxes, mice, deer and pigeons. A Labrador he once found tasted "just like a nice piece of lamb," though he finds cats to be "a bit bland." His favorite food is a badger sandwich made primarily with head meat.

Could Wonder Bread is going the way of so many other empty carbohydrates, disappearing into the annals of pop culture? So says NPR's Morning Edition. The company that makes the stuff, as well as Hostess Cupcakes, Twinkies, and other preservative-packed goodies, filed for bankruptcy protection last year. Interstate Bakeries has closed eight factories across the country and won't be selling Wonder Bread to Oregon and Washington starting next month.

The company blames low-carb diets and the new FDA requirements for labeling products which contain trans-fatty acids. In my opinion, the market for white bread is declining due to the wide availability of fresh-baked, artisan breads and the changing tastes (i.e., to "good") of the Pacific Northwest population. Despite my snooty foodieness, though, the slow extinction of Wonder Bread makes me a little sad.

I thought I could do better than the Hillbilly Housewife, whose weekly menu of weiner stirfry and tuna-and-peas-over-rice didn't appeal much to my sense of budgetary gourmet. I'm not the only one, evidently. The good people at the Better Times Almanac have created what they call the "Slow Food for Poor People Challenge."

Taking the "Food Stamp Challenge," they ate on a food stamp budget for a week (about $61 for two people) and tried to make their example an even better one by employing "(1) frugal supermarket shopping, (2) preparing meals from basic ingredients, (3) buying local foods, (4) gardening, (5) food storage, and (6) home preservation of food."

Menus like "Buffalo meatloaf, oven fries, corn on the cob, green beans," biscuits and gravy, buffalo pot roast and a breakfast of "2 scrambled eggs, 1/3 lb sausage, hash brown, potatoes, rolls, apple cobbler" are a little more my speed. The drawback is that their menu is a bit repetitive (and, being from Oklahoma, relies heavily on buffalo meat). But you can hardly argue with a $60 weekly menu that employs organic eggs from free-ranging hens and meats from local cooperatives. It's a nice attempt and only fuels my desire to come up with more and better cheap-but-gourmet meals.

[photo Sarah Gilbert]