There is a good deal of camaraderie between bakers. Regional gatherings and now online chat lists host bakers from bakeries of all sizes from all over the world. In general there is little confrontation and people are happy to contribute advice about everything from bread formulas to business planning. Even bakers who sell in the same market get along well. Last week on a web list of bakers that I participate in, a difference of opinion led to quite a heated dialogue about etiquette, opinion and attitude. I’ll describe the basic disagreement, but the real reason I bring this up is that it encapsulates an important human conflict.
Baking is truly an international craft. The lineage of baking techniques goes back centuries in several countries, and each tradition has both unique and shared practices. Because of this international heritage, baking terms that describe the same thing, have English, Italian, French, German and probably several other national versions. No baker would claim that the terms from one country are superior to that of another country, but having so many terms to describe basically the same thing, makes for a lot of confusion. For example, the term sourdough has the following counterparts in English and French alone: starter, mother, leaven culture, levain, chef and sponge. It is obvious how one baker’s sponge could be another’s “chef”, but without standardization, who’s to know? Before I go on, let me just say that bakers are not the hopeless bunch of idiots that this mess makes us out to be. When it comes to calculating bread formulas, we use an almost universally accepted mathematical system referred to as “baker’s math”. Since the ingredients are expressed in percentages rather than volume or weight measurements in baker’s math, anyone from any country can compare two formula’s side by side and get meaningful information very quickly. There are only two or three different ways that bakers use “baker’s math”, so compared to the mess in the baking lexicon described above, that’s nothing.
Now back to our story. A home baker asked on the breadbaker’s web list last week if anyone had ever come up with an accepted glossary of definitions for the many baking terms bandied about in such groups. A couple matter of fact responses came back stating one source or another, and then a long post came in from a baker in Australia that addressed the issue in a somewhat sarcastic, a little crude, but to many of us, hilarious way. There was a little profanity, a few anatomical terms, and some remarks about religion so a PG-13 to R rating was advisable, but as far as I know, no children follow the latest flour price trends on the breadbaker’s list. Several of us thanked him for the comic relief given the current state of the baking trade, and then those who were offended chimed in. Accusations came in about everything from his crude language, to sexism, and religious intolerance. In his defense, his american wife posted a comment about how incredibly dangerous it has become in the U.S. to say much of anything potentially controversial without someone howling. After the moderator of the group posted the group rules, it was made clear that several of the posts broke policy, but the whole affair got me thinking about more than just this case, and that is where my larger point lies.
As a group of adults, it seems to me that the a member of the breadbaker’s group aught to be able to say a few swears, mention human anatomy, and even be a little offensive from time to time and not have people jumping up and down in disgust. What fun is it to be ruled over by a set of laws that one is likely to find in an elementary school? This is the argument of one half of my brain at least. The other half can’t help but bring up the long history of thinly veiled, and not so thinly veiled hate speech that was and is still used as a method of oppression, and abuse all over the world. Whether racist, sexist, homophobic or any other form of discrimination, I think most people agree that such speech can be genuinely hurtful and ought to be controlled in some way especially in public spaces.
In my opinion our Australian baker was not speaking hatefully about Christians, women or French people, but obviously others felt differently. To take another case that people reading probably remember, I had mixed feelings about the Don Imus debacle last year around this time. I personally never much liked his show, I thought he made a very stupid comment when he referred to an entire basketball team as a bunch of “nappy headed -----“, but in my opinion the public outrage shamed him as he deserved, the issue was brought into the light and aired out, and he apologized. What followed was a tangential, polarized nationwide shouting match that perhaps revealed underlying tensions about race in America, but the discussion was carried out in a dysfunctional way which was destined to not really address much of anything. Having the whole thing end with him being taken off the air because sponsors were pulling out rather than listeners voting with their "feet", to me illustrated that Mr. Imus had been turned into a symbol rather than a flawed individual like the rest of us, and whether he was sorry or not was no longer relevant. I could bring up a half dozen more similar examples from this political season alone, but instead I’ll let you think a moment about how the dilemma plays out on all levels, from the personal to the international. I challenge anyone to come up with a workable solution that can be applied objectively. Thanks for the orders, have a good week. Noah
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
Baker's Notes
Baker’s Notes: Along a different but related line of thought as last week, I've been contemplating human understanding again this week. What got me started was an article about global warming in a monthly publication. Before I get to the specifics though, a bit about how I arrived there.
In addition to the fact that we humans explain the way we understand the world to work in mechanical terms, (as I wrote about last week) we also generally prefer condensed versions of more complicated issues. For example, few of us fully understand how the immune system works, but in general we understand that it helps us to fight off disease, and we leave it at that. When this affinity for the concise is extended to other parts of the world around us, it tends to narrow subjects into one or two dimensional, agree or disagree problems. Arenas that are victim to such reductionism abound. Whether it be science and the environment, health and nutrition, business and finance, or geopolitics and policy, we are bombarded with one or two sentence summations of very complicated issues, and more often than not given action plans that "experts in the field" recommend. Taking hold of the rallying cry of the day gives people's passion an outlet. One need not look far to find passionate people espousing a particular take on any or all of the subjects above. With the amount of information available to all of us, It's understandable that we seek condensed and simplified versions of the stories in the public discussion. It would take a whole team of researchers to evaluate even half the issues in a balanced way and put them all into context for an individual to discern with reason, and that's assuming that the team of researchers refrained from subjective interpretation, a very unlikely scenario. What this leaves me feeling is that the more time I spend trying to be open minded, the less willing I am to be completely convinced of anything.
My example here is the article about global warming I mentioned at the beginning. I am not a climate expert, and I don't want to pick any fights here, but my basic understanding of one aspect of emissions led me to make this argument. I accept that global warming is happening, and I am becoming more convinced that human behavior is a cause of this warming, but I think the approaches to addressing the emissions problem are at times laughably inadequate, overly simplistic, and in some cases just plain incorrect. In the particular article I read last week, it makes very specific suggestions about what actions we can take to reduce our carbon footprint. One of the headings was something along the lines of: "Food, how to change your diet for a cooler planet”. In the few paragraphs that follow, the reader is told that livestock and dairy cattle produce huge amounts of methane and co2, and that transporting and processing all of the food from these animals adds even more to their carbon footprint. The recommendation is to reduce the consumption of animal foods.
There's no question that modern, large-scale animal agriculture has a negative impact on everything from animal welfare to ground water supplies. I agree whole heartedly that as practiced, the vast majority of animal foods produced in this country and to a greater and greater extent around the world cause an undue burden on the environment. Where the article is just plain wrong is that it draws no distinction between animal husbandry as practiced by conscientious farmers all over the world, and industrial animal food production. While it requires a more nuanced understanding of the subject, anyone who is willing to learn a bit about what well managed ruminant animals do for soil fertility, plant diversity and carbon sequestering will arrive at a very different conclusion.
Properly cared for ruminant animals do not require grain. By eliminating grain from the diet, there is no need for the expansive acres devoted to corn and soybeans, which devastate soil vitality. Well managed pastures are a dense carpet of biomass, meaning that from the very first warm days in May when the grass greens up, to the last days in October when the frost gets heavy, various grass and legume crops form a thick carpet of carbon capturing plants, something no annual vegetable crop can match since fields must be plowed, planted, cultivated and harvested all in one season. A well managed pasture absorbs rain better than cultivated fields, thus minimizing erosion. Animal products purchased directly from farmers by the end user require little packaging, transportation, or processing.
Taking an Imaginary tour of two farms brings this issue into clear focus for me. The first farm is a vast flat expanse. Row upon row of a single crop grow in all directions as far as the eye can see. Small windblown plants grow out of cracked, compacted soil. Once harvested, the farm products are shipped to processing plants that break the foods down, and turn them into an array of packaged foods, which can sit on store shelves for months or years. The second farm is green and lush, rolling pastures are divided by trees, birds fly between the hedgerows and a small pond at the edge of the woods. A herd of cows casts long shadows as they walk towards the barn for their evening milking. If we were to abandon animal agriculture completely, the first farm would be our primary source of protein, (soy and legume) and fat, (vegetable oil). If we reject the industrial food model and commit to supporting local grass fed dairy and beef operations, there is a chance we will still have the opportunity to get these foods from the second farm.
Since I’m not a zealot, I don’t stand on street corners and hold signs about my opinions, but I do get upset when the popular press takes aim without making distinctions at all forms of animal agriculture. It’s very late, so you’ll have to excuse me if I’ve offended anyone. Thanks for the orders, and have a good week.
In addition to the fact that we humans explain the way we understand the world to work in mechanical terms, (as I wrote about last week) we also generally prefer condensed versions of more complicated issues. For example, few of us fully understand how the immune system works, but in general we understand that it helps us to fight off disease, and we leave it at that. When this affinity for the concise is extended to other parts of the world around us, it tends to narrow subjects into one or two dimensional, agree or disagree problems. Arenas that are victim to such reductionism abound. Whether it be science and the environment, health and nutrition, business and finance, or geopolitics and policy, we are bombarded with one or two sentence summations of very complicated issues, and more often than not given action plans that "experts in the field" recommend. Taking hold of the rallying cry of the day gives people's passion an outlet. One need not look far to find passionate people espousing a particular take on any or all of the subjects above. With the amount of information available to all of us, It's understandable that we seek condensed and simplified versions of the stories in the public discussion. It would take a whole team of researchers to evaluate even half the issues in a balanced way and put them all into context for an individual to discern with reason, and that's assuming that the team of researchers refrained from subjective interpretation, a very unlikely scenario. What this leaves me feeling is that the more time I spend trying to be open minded, the less willing I am to be completely convinced of anything.
My example here is the article about global warming I mentioned at the beginning. I am not a climate expert, and I don't want to pick any fights here, but my basic understanding of one aspect of emissions led me to make this argument. I accept that global warming is happening, and I am becoming more convinced that human behavior is a cause of this warming, but I think the approaches to addressing the emissions problem are at times laughably inadequate, overly simplistic, and in some cases just plain incorrect. In the particular article I read last week, it makes very specific suggestions about what actions we can take to reduce our carbon footprint. One of the headings was something along the lines of: "Food, how to change your diet for a cooler planet”. In the few paragraphs that follow, the reader is told that livestock and dairy cattle produce huge amounts of methane and co2, and that transporting and processing all of the food from these animals adds even more to their carbon footprint. The recommendation is to reduce the consumption of animal foods.
There's no question that modern, large-scale animal agriculture has a negative impact on everything from animal welfare to ground water supplies. I agree whole heartedly that as practiced, the vast majority of animal foods produced in this country and to a greater and greater extent around the world cause an undue burden on the environment. Where the article is just plain wrong is that it draws no distinction between animal husbandry as practiced by conscientious farmers all over the world, and industrial animal food production. While it requires a more nuanced understanding of the subject, anyone who is willing to learn a bit about what well managed ruminant animals do for soil fertility, plant diversity and carbon sequestering will arrive at a very different conclusion.
Properly cared for ruminant animals do not require grain. By eliminating grain from the diet, there is no need for the expansive acres devoted to corn and soybeans, which devastate soil vitality. Well managed pastures are a dense carpet of biomass, meaning that from the very first warm days in May when the grass greens up, to the last days in October when the frost gets heavy, various grass and legume crops form a thick carpet of carbon capturing plants, something no annual vegetable crop can match since fields must be plowed, planted, cultivated and harvested all in one season. A well managed pasture absorbs rain better than cultivated fields, thus minimizing erosion. Animal products purchased directly from farmers by the end user require little packaging, transportation, or processing.
Taking an Imaginary tour of two farms brings this issue into clear focus for me. The first farm is a vast flat expanse. Row upon row of a single crop grow in all directions as far as the eye can see. Small windblown plants grow out of cracked, compacted soil. Once harvested, the farm products are shipped to processing plants that break the foods down, and turn them into an array of packaged foods, which can sit on store shelves for months or years. The second farm is green and lush, rolling pastures are divided by trees, birds fly between the hedgerows and a small pond at the edge of the woods. A herd of cows casts long shadows as they walk towards the barn for their evening milking. If we were to abandon animal agriculture completely, the first farm would be our primary source of protein, (soy and legume) and fat, (vegetable oil). If we reject the industrial food model and commit to supporting local grass fed dairy and beef operations, there is a chance we will still have the opportunity to get these foods from the second farm.
Since I’m not a zealot, I don’t stand on street corners and hold signs about my opinions, but I do get upset when the popular press takes aim without making distinctions at all forms of animal agriculture. It’s very late, so you’ll have to excuse me if I’ve offended anyone. Thanks for the orders, and have a good week.
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