ChewsWise Blog

ChewsWise Blog

Winner! Snowpocalypse Bread Baking Challenge

No-knead bread avec beurre

Now that the snow is melting, turning the city into a gritty wet mess, it's time to pick the winner of the snowpocalypse bread baking challenge. There were about two dozen entries to the contest, posted on Flickr, with some amazing breads, many by first time bakers. It was hard to pick a winner (after all, I didn't get to try the bread), but based on the pictures, I could tell which ones were great. 

What was I looking for? A loose crumb with nice bubbles cooked perfectly with a slightly dark crust, and just the feel of great home made bread. So without further delay, the winners are:

The gold medal to first-time baker Amanda at Metrocurean:

First timer bread

Amanda used the no-knead bread recipe (her slice of bread with butter is also pictured above). This was a very close call as the silver medal went to another newbie baker, Tom G. But Metocurean edged him out with her crust -- it was darker, slightly carmelized, and the bread had a very airy look. But it was very close, similar to the 2/100's of a second win in the downhill race at the Olympics. So here's a tip for bakers -- leave your breads in the oven a few minutes longer than you think is wise. The crust, with darkened bits, improves. 

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Here's the bread (above) by Tom G., which sprung up nicely.

The remaining breads get honorable mentions. The Irish Brown Bread took the bronze medal and would have won in the fruited bread category (if there were one).  Pictured below, it looks delicious and I gather the baker, with the screen name Governmentality, has been plowing his way through Jim Lahey's book, My Bread.

Irish Brown Bread

This was a wonderful example of Challah as well, by Julie Sea, pictured below.

Snow Day Challah!

Finally, this no-knead bread by Caroline was superb, though I think it could have benefitted from a tad longer bake. 

Caroline's bread

The winner gets Jim Lahey's book (courtesy of his publisher) so we can expect more great things from Amanda. But for all those who participated, keep baking. There is nothing that compares with home-made bread, where even the failures are edible (and if they are not, cut them into croutons and toast them in the oven.) 

- Samuel Fromartz.

Behind the Organic Pasture Rule at the USDA

After one of the most contentious issues in the organic food world was put to rest last week, I happened to be feeding a few goats in Massachusetts. I pulled some grass from a nearby field and walked over to the animals. They came right up to me and started eating the fresh forage from my hand. There was hay nearby but the green stuff clearly won the taste test.

Over at the USDA, it took more than a decade of complaints and advisory statements, reams of documents, a dairy symposium, five listening sessions, at least two comment periods, the overhaul of the USDA's National Organic Program, the new Obama administration, and vigorous lobbying by small dairy farmer groups to arrive at the same conclusion as these goats -- ruminants such as cows prefer grass and they should be required to graze a minimum amount of pasture on an organic farm.

Why was this so contentious? Because cows don't need to be on pasture to produce milk. In many conventional dairies, cows are housed indoors. In fact, if they eat more grain rations and expend less energy walking to pasture they actually produce more milk, not less. That efficient factory-like reality led large-scale organic dairy operations to minimize pasture, maximize milk production and thus undercut all those other farmers who wanted to let cows express their natural behavior and eat grass. And these large-scale farms could do so because organic regulations, until now, only required vague "access to pasture," not a bright line minimum standard for grazing that all farms must meet.

Now, with the new pasture rule released last week, the bright line is there. The regulation states that cows must be out on pasture throughout the grazing season, though not less than 120 days. They must  also get a minimum of 30% of their nutrition from fresh grass (as measured by dry weight, since grass contains far more water than grain). This standard was arrived at by consensus by organic dairy farmers around the nation nearly five years ago. It will take full effect a year from now.

The National Organic Standards Board (NOSB), an advisory panel which recommends all regulatory changes to the Secretary of Agriculture, had at first recommended that the 120 day/30% minimum be for "guidance" only. But in an especially detailed and well-reasoned document explaining the regulation (pdf), the USDA said, "public comments showed strong backing for a regulatory change" -- not simply guidance.

The agency enacted the bright line standard to avoid confusion among certifiers who had interpreted the "access to pasture" prescription quite differently. (Some required grazing while others clearly did not). Secondly, and perhaps more crucially, the USDA made the change "to satisfy consumer expectations that ruminant livestock animals graze on pastures during the grazing season."

Evidence of those consumer expectations appeared after the first proposed rule, released in April 2006, when more than 80,500 commented. Of those, just 28 were opposed to any changes in the pasture requirement and "there was a consistent theme of opposition to confining animals and feedlot feeding," the agency noted.

Consumers, farmers, retailers and public advocates spoke. And, in this case, the USDA listened -- it just took awhile.

That voice is especially important because the National Organic Program was designed by Congress as a "marketing program." (It is officially agnostic on whether organic foods or organic production practices are better or healthier). If the market, defined by the 30% or so of Americans who occasionally buy organic products, think that organic practices are failing to live up to their expectations, the agriculture secretary has reason to "satisfy consumer expectations" and change the program. That was clearly the case in the pasture dispute, where consumers felt large-scale feedlot organic farms were manipulating organic practices with a loophole.

As another example, the agency pointed out that antibiotics are clearly prohibited from organic production. Consumers point to the absence of antibiotics as well as synthetic growth hormones in production as reasons to buy organic dairy products, livestock, meat and poultry. Yet the agency felt compelled "to further clarify the prohibition on the use of antibiotics." 

The reason? "In administering this program we have found antibiotics in certified organic feed," the agency said. The document continues:

Whether used for therapeutic or subtherapeutic reasons or to increase feed efficiency or rate of gain, all antibiotics are prohibited...  It is the producer’s responsibility, to obtain assurances from feed suppliers that the feed products supplied are free of antibiotics.

But the intent of meeting consumer expectations might not only apply to pasture or livestock practices. If consumers have an expectation that organic food should be free of genetically modified crops, then the agency should ensure against GM contamination. (Genetically modified crops are banned from organic agriculture). In fact, this issue may arise sooner rather than later if genetically modified alfalfa is approved by the USDA. Organic farmers plant alfalfa in their fields, so those crops could be subject to pollen contamination from genetically modified alfalfa. That prospect has led to yet another consumer campaign for protections and more law suits are likely on the horizon if the GM crops are approved.

Despite clear consumer preference, there were objections to the new pasture standard.

First, those who opposed it said the standard said it would raise costs dramatically by increasing the amount of land needed for grazing. (This is a familiar argument of anti-organic camp -- that organic production requires more land). But the USDA said: "We received other studies challenging (this) assertion ... These studies discuss a prevalent misconception that grazing systems require more acres for the same amount of output." 

It also found ample organic land for grazing, especially in the West, where many objections to the pasture standard originated. (The bigger issue for large operations is moving cows from pasture to the milking parlor -- a nearby feedlot is far easier to manage). 

A notable objection had been lodged by Straus Family Creamery, a pioneering organic dairy in California which found the ruling overly prescriptive. But in the final rule, the USDA stated that the 120 day minimum did not have to be continuous -- it could be met with breaks over any defined 365 day period. But it also made clear that if the 120-minimum could not be met, the farm shouldn't be organic.

...if the location is consistently too rainy or the temperature and humidity are too high or low to safely graze animals throughout a 120-day minimum grazing season and still comply with all applicable parts of this regulation, the animal cannot be raised in such location for organic production.

In the end, Straus found the final rule acceptable. “The final rule allows for a grazing season that considers regional variation in climate, soil conditions, and regional water quality regulations,” said Albert Straus. “We’re very grateful to all of the consumers who urged the USDA to account for such regional variations in the final rule. It’s exciting to see the National Organic Program continue to get stronger."

As with many past examples in the organic food arena, a diverse and often conflicted number of constituents came together to urge passage of this rule -- including various farmer groups, consumer organizations, processors, retailers, certifiers, environmental advocates and others. That lesson should be kept in mind for the future.

Further background on the rule change can be found at:

- Samuel Fromartz

Snowpocalypse Bread Baking Challenge!

IMG_0379.JPG

By Samuel Fromartz

With schools closed, the house a mess, and snow piling up, what better time than now to bake bread? I've been baking up a storm -- and now it's time for you to start too. So I'm launching the Snowpocalypse baking challenge. (Pictured above, the Organic Snowpocalypse Bread, with sourdough, white, whole wheat and rye flour.)

If you haven't baked bread before, now is the time to dive in -- because time is probably what you have. If you want an easy recipe, try the no-knead bread below. Mix your dough, let it rise for 12-18 hours, then bake it. If you can make scrambled eggs, you can make this bread.

Once done, post your pictures to this Flickr group and I'll pick a winning bread. The prize: Jim Lahey's recently published book, My Bread (donated by his publisher). His no-knead recipe is the perfect starting point for beginning bakers.

Here's the contest rules:

  1. Open to new or beginning bakers. No ringers who have been baking bread for years.
  2. Baking must occur while you are snowed in. Once the streets are clear and life is back to normal the contest is over (which I assume will be Tuesday after the holiday weekend).
  3. Submit a picture to the flickr group to enter the contest and make sure I can contact you. I'll pick the winning photo based on what the bread looks like. Any comments on the bread and process will be welcome.

Now, for the no-knead recipe, here's what you'll need:

  • A medium bowl
  • 4.5 to 5.5 quart pot to cook the bread. A dutch oven or even a pasta pot will work.
  • 3 cups (400 grams) white flour. Preferably bread flour, but all purpose flour will do. Avoid cake flour.
  • 1/4 teaspoon instant or rapid rise yeast
  • 1-1/4 teaspoon (8 grams) salt
  • 1-1/3 cups (300 grams) water
  • Olive oil (other oil is fine too)
  • Wheat bran or cornmeal (optional)

Note: I updated the recipe slightly with new instructions in italics.

Stir together the flour, yeast and salt. Add the water and using a spoon or your hands, mix until you have a wet, sticky, mass -- about 30 seconds. If using your hands, rub a little olive oil on your fingers and palms to keep from sticking to the dough. It should be sticky to touch, if not, add a couple of tablespoons more water. 

Cover bowl with plastic wrap, or a plate (I use a plastic tray) and let sit for 12-18 hours. If your kitchen is cold, put it on a high shelf in a cupboard. The surface will be dotted with bubbles and it will have doubled in size. 

When the fermentation is complete, generously dusting the counter with flour (I previously said rub olive oil on counter but using flour might be easier because this dough is so wet). Use a scraper or spoon to move the dough onto the counter in one piece so the bottom of the dough in the bowl is now the top. Though sticky, do not add any more flour. Rub your hands with more olive oil. Slip your hand under the edge of the dough and then fold the edges toward the center to make a round shape. It won't be like a ball because this dough is loose and wet. It will have a flat shape, and don't worry if it's uneven. 

Place a cotton or linen towel on the counter and generously dust it with wheat bran, cornmeal, or flour. Gently lift the dough and flip it over so that the folds or seams are face down on the the towel. Dust the top of the dough with more flour, bran or cornmeal. Fold the towel loosely over the dough and let sit for 1-2 hours. The dough's ready if you gently press your finger in the dough 1/4 inch and the dough keeps the impression rather than springing back. 

One-half hour before the end of the second rise, preheat the oven to 475 F. On a rack in the lower third of the oven, place your 4.5-5.5 quart heavy lidded pot. 

When ready to bake, using pot holders carefully remove the pot. Take off the lid. Unfold the tea towel, dust the loaf with more flour or bran and quickly invert it and place it the pot (the seam side is now face up). Be careful -- the pot is HOT. Don't worry if it looks uneven. Put the lid on the pot, jiggle back and forth and place back in the oven. 

Bake for 30 minutes, then remove the top. Bake for another 15-30 minutes until the top is a dark chestnut color. When done, use a spatula or spoon to remove it to a cooling rack. 

Wait at least 1 hour before cutting into it. The bread will continue to cook during this time and if you cut into it too early, the crumb will be gummy.  

Post questions in the comment section and pictures to the flickr group. Happy baking!

Seven Tips for a Home Baker

Open_crumb
Seeded sourdough loaf with white, whole wheat and rye

Baker Dan Lepard writes a rare baking column in the Guardian newspaper in the UK, has an active web presence, and has written an engaging baking book, but here he visits with a serious home baker, Jack Lang, who lays out seven principles of baking. This quote caught my eye, because it's really true. Everyone thinks baking with sourdough is hard but it's actually more forgiving than instant yeast.

"...naturally leavened breads are very easy to manage, especially for the home baker, as the dough matures more slowly and the point when the loaf finally gets to the oven is less critical. I am convinced that naturally leavened breads, like sourdough, are great for the home baker and less problematic that other quicker yeasted breads."

Now onto the seven principles (with my comments in italics). 

1. Use a naturally-leavened starter. “Using a sourdough starter is easy,” says Jack. “You keep it in the fridge from one month until the next, and simply refresh a small amount when you need to use it.” (If you refrigerate it, refresh it at least two times before using it).

2. Keep practicing your ‘baking routine’ until you find a method that suits you. “It was the constant baking that improved my breads”, says Jack. (Really true, it's like music. The more you practice the better you get, especially because the craft is tactile).

3. “For many of the breads I bake”, says Jack, “I make the dough the night before and leave it overnight in the refrigerator”. This is a great help in managing your time when baking at home, when there are always other things to do. (I do this too. It improves the flavor of the bread and works with your schedule, so if you mix a dough Friday evening you can bake 8-24 hours later -- whatever works by your schedule). 

 4. Do keep a record of the temperatures of your flour, water, dough and room when you bake. “Temperature control is very important when you bake”, says Jack, “but don’t go overboard with it”. (Yes, and use a bit more sourdough in the winter and less in the summer, as higher temperatures speed fermentation -- the ideal though is 76-78 F). 

5. “Food processors are great for mixing bread, just remember to use the steel blade”, says Jack. My co-author on “Baking with Passion”, Richard Whittington, swears by the food processor and finds it much easier to use than the upright mixer. (I've used a food processor quite successfully to make dough, but I don't use it regularly.)

6. Remember that when you bake brown, mixed wheat, rye or wholemeal loaves, you will not get the same volume in the finished loaf as you will achieve with white flour, nor as open a texture to the crumb. Just remember this and be content. (True to a point, see picture above. If you make a very moist dough with whole grains you can achieve a less dense crumb but moist doughs are hard to work with -- go back to point 2). 

7. And finally, “Bake the dough from cold”, says Jack, who lets his dough prove overnight in the refrigerator at 4ºC (39F). This, he feels, gives a better result. (Sugars develop in a long slow rise, so the bread flavor will improve. The sour acidity in a dough also increases with lower temperature, so if you want higher sour notes by all means refrigerate for 12-24 hours. Depending on the degree of fermentation, though, you may need to let the rise continue at room temperature).

LepardAddendum: I just got Lepard's book, The Art of Handmade Bread: Contemporary European Recipes for the Home Baker, and am happily reading through it. Many of the recipes are unusual, from Scandinavia, Scotland, Russia, Germany and the Ukraine, incorporating age-old methods (such as soaking grains in wine, using ale, making your own malt). It reminds me a bit of Elizabeth David's approach in her classic, English Bread and Yeast Cookery , since she too paid serious attention to traditional home made breads. I'm excited to try these methods soon.

What to Do When Alice Waters Calls, Seeking Bread

By Samuel Fromartz

I was leaving the gym when I checked my messages. Alice Waters' office at Chez Panisse was calling -- yeah, right. Who was this really? 

When I called back, it turned out Waters was calling and looking for a baker for her charity dinner in Washington, to replace one who had dropped out. Barton Seaver, a friend and chef at Blue Ridge,  suggested me. "We hear you make the best baguette in DC," said Sarah Weiner, Waters' assistant. "Well, yeah, I won a contest," I stammered, "but I just bake at home. The most I've baked was for Thanksgiving dinner." 

They needed to feed 40 -- at a $500 a plate dinner at Bob Woodward's house. Could it be done in my home ovens? I said I'd call back. I went home to figure out how much bread I needed to bake and realized I could probably do it -- 5 big loaves and several baguettes. I then called Peter Reinhart -- the renowned baker and author I've known for a couple of years -- to see what he thought. "That's not a lot of bread," he said, and he encouraged me to give it a whirl.

So began my first gig as a professional baker -- at an Alice Waters' dinner.

I quickly settled on breads I made time and again and eat at home -- a pain au levain made with sourdough and a mix of white, whole wheat and rye flours; a pane casareccio di Genzano, an airy white big loaf crusted with wheat bran that I picked up from Dan Leader's Local Breads; and of course, my baguettes. 

Levain

I've never baked this much bread before, so I worked out a timeline -- and good thing too, since I would need to begin Friday to have the breads ready on Sunday. I started by feeding 50 grams (about a quarter-cup) of sourdough starter Friday morning, building it to 150 grams. On Friday night, I fed it again to take it up to 450 grams. Saturday morning, I refreshed it a third time. By Saturday evening, when I needed the ripe starter to make my doughs, I had over 1500 grams (3.3 pounds) of the stuff. With that steady feeding every 8-12 hours, the starter was bubbling, itching to impregnate the dough. It's pictured at left, and below, in the big bin on the right.

Levain and flour I measured out the flours and began mixing the dough. I don't really knead or use a mixer. Rather, I combine the ingredients by hand until they come together. Then I let the shaggy mass rest so the flour slowly soaks in the water, then fold it over every hour or so to develop the gluten. By the end of the process, the dough glistens with moisture. If you pull away a small piece and stretch it, you should be almost able to see through it -- the so-called windowpane test that shows when a dough is done. This folding technique is a cousin to the no-knead method, since you just fold over the dough and let time do its work. It works beautifully, especially since my home mixer couldn't handle the volume of dough I made. 

Now the magic began -- the first rise, the source of all flavor -- and luckily it was a chilly night. Why was that important? Because I let my sourdoughs rise in an unheated basement storage room that is about 55F. That's the perfect temperature for a languid fermentation, when the sugars in the bread develop. Bakers buy proofing cabinets that cost thousands of dollars to get this temperature with refrigeration. My solution was less precise, but it worked fine. The genzano and baguette doughs rose in the refrigerator, since they contained instant yeast as well as sourdough and I wanted a slower fermentation.

At 7 the next morning, I took the pain au levain dough out and let it warm up for about an hour. I then shaped three boules, letting them rise for 2-1/2 hours. In the meantime, I heated up the baking stones in my double-oven. Then I repeated this with the Genzano loaf, about an hour later, and then the baguette. 

The rise went well, full of oven spring. I attribute that to the levain, which you'll recall had built over a 52-hour period with successive refreshments, including the last one in the dough. (Pictured below are the pane casareccio di Genzano - Genzano Country Bread).

Pane di Genzano

I finished baking at about 2 p.m. and let the breads cool, then delivered the loaves for the dinner. Jean-Pierre Moullé, the chef at Chez Panisse, was there to greet me. We talked briefly about the breads and I mentioned I was a home baker, not a professional.

"I know, but you did not bake these at home," he said.

"Yes, I did," I countered -- and I noticed his eyebrow rise a bit.

Later that evening, at a party preceding the dinner, Alice Waters took me aside, bread lover that she is, and thanked me warmly. It was a nice moment.

For a home baker, there's always the moment of anticipation when the bread comes out of the oven and you wait for it to cool before tearing into it. Alas, with these loaves, I didn't get a chance to cut into them, to evaluate the flavor and aromas or assess the interior crumb or the density of the crust -- all crucial to a decent loaf. But I trust they were fine. 

The thing is, I don't bake for a living. There is no daily pressure, no waking at 1 a.m. to get to the ovens, no staff, no orders. It's just me and the bread. And until yesterday, I've only given my breads away to friends. Now I've donated them for a worthwhile cause. Maybe I've just widened the circle of people who eat my bread. And that's just fine.

Dinner bread

Potato Pizza Recipe

Basic Pizza Dough

(Read companion article here on Jim Lahey's pizza recipe)

Yield: enough dough for two pies baked in 13x18-inch rimmed baking sheets

3 3/4 cups (500 grams) bread flour
2 1/2 teaspoons (10 grams) instant or active dry yeast
3/4 teaspoon (5 grams) salt
3/4 teaspoon plus pinch (3 grams) sugar
1 1/3 cups (300 grams) water
Extra Virgin olive oil for pan

In a bowl, stir together the flour, yeast, salt and sugar. Add the water, and using a spoon, your hand, or a baker's plastic bench scraper, mix together until blended -- about a minute (Jim says 30 seconds but mine took a bit longer). You don't want to mix or knead this dough too much, or else the gluten will develop and you won't be able to shape it in the pan. But you want to mix in all the lumps of flour. In the end, you'll arrive at a stiff dough.

Cover the dough and let rise at room temperature for about 2 hours. (If your room is cold, put it in the oven with a pilot light to warm up a bit, or in a closed cabinet).

Dump out the dough on a lightly floured surface and cut it in half. Use both pieces, or save one in the refrigerator (I use a zip lock bag) for up to 1 day. Oil a 13x18 inch rimmed baking sheet liberally with good extra virgin olive oil (yes, pour it on). Then gently plop the dough on the pan and stretch and press it out to the edges. If it springs back (that's the gluten working) wait five minutes and then proceed. I found the gluten weak enough to spread it fully over the pan. The dough is very thin. If it tears, piece it back together.

Lahey has a few basic toppings in his book, such as pizza pomodoro (tomato sauce), pizza funghi (mushroom), and pizza cavolfiore (cauliflower), but I zoomed in on his pizza patate (potato). This might sound like a carbo-loading dream, but remember the crust is thin, so you're not stuffing yourself with dough.

Pizza Patate

As Jim writes, "Potato pizza is another Italian classic you don't see very often in the United States. While my rendition is pretty traditional, I soak the potatoes in salted water first, which actually extracts about 20 percent of their moisture. That causes them to cook more quickly and makes them firmer. It's a little trick I learned from cooking potato pancakes."

YIELD: One 13-by-18-inch pie; 8 slices 

EQUIPMENT: A mandoline

1 quart (800 grams) lukewarm water
4 teaspoons (24 grams) table salt
6 to 8 (1 kilo) Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled
1 cup (100 grams) diced yellow onion
1/2 teaspoon (2 grams) freshly ground black pepper
About 1⁄2 cup (80 grams) extra virgin olive oil
1/2 recipe (400 grams) Basic Pizza Dough
About 1 tablespoon (2 grams) fresh rosemary leaves

Preheat the oven to 500 F (260 C) with a rack in the middle

In a medium bowl, combine the water and salt, stirring until the salt is dissolved. Use a knife or mandoline to slice the peeled potatoes very thin (1/16th inch thick), and put the slices directly into the salted water so they don’t oxidize and turn brown. Let soak in the brine for 1-1/2 hour (or refrigerate and soak for up to 12 hours), until the slices are wilted and no longer crisp. (Note: I cut the soaking time to 30 minutes and the results were still good).

Drain the potatoes in a colander and use your hands to press out as much water as possible, then pat dry. In a medium bowl, toss together the potato slices, onion, pepper, and olive oil.

Spread the potato mixture evenly over the dough, going all the way to the edges of the pan; put a bit more of the topping around the edges of the pie, as the outside tends to cook more quickly. Sprinkle evenly with the rosemary.

Bake for 30 to 35 minutes, until the topping is starting to turn golden brown and the crust is pulling away from the sides of the pan. Serve the pizza hot or at room temperature.

Variation • Pizza Batata (Sweet Potato Pizza)

Substitute 2 sweet potatoes (800 grams), peeled, for the Yukon Gold potatoes, and use about 4 cups (about 900 grams) water and 24 grams (4 teaspoons) salt for the soaking liquid. Omit the rosemary in the topping.

Atlantic Writer Blames Arugula for California's Failing Schools

In the media world, the hatchet job has long been a profitable one. It involves finding a major figure, uncovering a supposed flaw and then showing the world how it is a symptom of everything that's wrong with -- fill in the blank -- politics, business, schools, etc. 

Caitlin Flanagan's rant about Alice Waters qualifies as a glowing example of the genre. In the piece, she argues that Water's school gardens are doing everything to disenfranchise poor, undereducated kids by making them work outdoors rather than hitting the books. She leads off with a supposed child of a former migrant worker who goes to school -- only to do migrant-like work at the Berkeley middle school garden that Waters organized.

The child is a figment of Flanagan's hyperactive imagination. Did she go to the school, talk to the kids or parents or teachers, ask if any kids felt they were being exploited, or even wasting time -- in a school garden? Why bother because she already knew the answer. 

I don't think anyone would dispute that schools are in trouble, especially California's with its famous budget troubles. A piece looking into those schools -- something that Flanagan's colleague Sandra Tsing Loh, for example, has done amusingly well in these same pages - would be welcome. And in fact, in the same Atlantic issue, there is a very worthwhile piece on what really makes students excel (hint: it's the teachers). Flanagan, however, fixates on little seedlings and argues not only that the gardens are misplaced but suggests they are the cause of said educational failures. Blame the arugula for school dropouts.

The purpose of this argument is to skewer a person Flanagan viscerally detests. But finding Alice Waters' precious local foodie proclivities distasteful is one thing. (Even I found the bit where she poached an egg over an open hearth on 60-Minutes a bit much). Pinning the ills of the state's educational system on school gardens is something else again. What's next? Blaming the deep recession on Michelle Obama's White House garden because it takes the president's attention off more weighty problems at hand?

It's long been known that adequate nutrition has a direct relationship on children's achievement in school. Whether gardens would have a bearing on this equation is a question Flanagan chooses to ignore. (Oh wait, she does explore this issue by traveling to a grocery store in Compton to get her answer. She decides poor people can get good food, but they mostly like junk and nothing but upward mobility will change that). 

Maybe the gardens can help with the nutrition equation. Perhaps they won't. But you can't get anything to grow without diligence, attention, planning and hard work -- all qualities that can be applied to other endeavors, even farming. (She never considers that a kid really drawn to the garden might end up owning a farm business in the state's $39 billion agriculture industry, rather than being a migrant -- not a far-fetched path in California). Whatever the case, it's clear that the gardens are a minor sideshow in the issues facing the California school system. As she writes:

I have never seen an entire school system as fundamentally broken and rudderless as the California public schools, a system in which one out of five high-school students drops out before graduation, and in which scarcely 60 percent of the African American and Hispanic students leave school with a diploma. These young people are cast adrift in a $50 billion system in which failure is almost a foregone conclusion.

In that universe of problems, she focuses on ... gardens? Frankly, I think her imaginary migrant parents would probably spend more time worrying about Sacramento gutting meager school resources and teachers' positions then about the 1-1/2 hours a week their kid spends tending the arugula. And they should.

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