Final Blog Post

            In determining the most significant characteristics of New Orleans through a broader consideration of food and its ramifications, I would have to start with the Socioeconomic disparity within the population, and its reflection of its food culture.  Firstly, the picture of poverty in New Orleans isn’t starvation, but obesity, diabetes, and malnourishment, which is also indicative of the prodigal and indulgent food culture of New Orleans.  Food is one of the best lenses through which issues of social justice in New Orleans can be seen.  Even cooking, which should by definition be one of the things that most anyone can become skilled or at least proficient in, is exclusive here, an issue that institutions such as Liberty’s Kitchen, among others, are beginning to confront.

            -This issue isn’t helped at all by New Orleans’ Culinary traditions, which are defiantly antiquated, by which I mean that New Orleans’ unique cuisine is for the most part extremely unhealthy, and has defied the societal food standards our country has arrived at today.  New Orleans actively perpetuates and encourages learning to eat poorly, as the highest amounts of praise attributed to food here go to either, for the poor, fried foods, and for the wealthy, whatever restaurants are cooking with the most butter, fat and cholesterol.  Now don’t get me wrong here, because I probably love butter as much as anyone, but how are people going to pursue productive and long fulfilling lives when they are literally betraying their body by eating so poorly.  Never in my life had I ever encountered a school cafeteria that served fried food in close to half its meals until coming to New Orleans and experiencing the OR’s food. 

            Another area where the class disparity in this city is most blatantly visible is in the abundance of Food deserts in a city known for its culinary traditions.  Thousands of residents of the city really don’t have a place to shop for groceries, and consequentially fast food becomes a way of life for the lower class.  One of the most reliable markers for areas where food justice issues are contributing to the perpetuation of poverty, are the presence of Family Dollar stores, which many people look at as supermarkets because it’s the closest thing around to one. 

            Another major characteristic that makes New Orleans so unique is its Distinctive culinary traditions, which are renowned to say the least.  Obviously food means a lot to a place when its ideas of celebrities are chefs, and New Orleans, more than probably anywhere else in America, is responsible for celebrity chefs becoming a mainstream fixture of American culture.  One of the best examples of this is Paul Prudhomme.  How is it that the idea of the “Gourmet Creole Bistro” could have been created by such a morbidly obese man?  The very idea of the “Gourmet Creole Bistro” is misleading, because though it is supposed to stand for making good food more accessible to people with casual dress codes, its still high end dining, and a lot of the food is kind of unhealthy.  Chef Paul, the prototypical picture of upper echelon food innovators was morbidly obese until undergoing gastric bypass surgery, for eating the very food that he made famous and high end.  I would be hard pressed to think of any other place that clings so dearly to its culinary traditions, which is apparent when considering how insignificant ethnic food’s place in the New Orleans restaurant scene is.  Furthermore, ethnic restaurants’ lack of popularity in New Orleans is indicative of its social structure, as it, more than anything, reflects the developing middle class of the city.  To see this you need go no further than taking a walk down magazine street, as these ethnic restaurants are an indicator of gentrification of neighborhoods and the influx of young urban professionals (yuppies as most people call them).  Even within New Orleans, food establishments are indicative of the socioeconomic class of the people living around them, with clear and distinct diets for each. 

            Lastly, I would argue that another tremendously significant characteristic of New Orleans is its Bacchanal, corporeally indulgent culture.  Famous upper echelon culinary traditions and institutes contrast starkly with the decaying infrastructure of New Orleans, as well as the very geography of the city.  The fact that Antoine’s and Galitoire’s are still around and in great condition, yet the streets are full of holes is a strong indicator that New Orleans’ culture is the result of its existence being truly embodied outside of its physical characteristics.  The comforts of the body are the priorities of this culture, because they alter the state of human consciousness, and only in this altered state of mind can New Orleans truly be experienced and comprehended.  This is evident in New Orleans’ tradition of understatement in culinary institutions, (camellia grill, Uglesich’s, Willie Mae’s Scotch House [even after all the renovations the place still looks like its falling apart).  When satisfying these corporeal urges, it almost doesn’t matter what a place looks like, because the food and the drink and the atmosphere, which is part of why Music is so important to this city, is enough to make it special.  In its purest form, New Orleans is a state of mind in which the comforts of the body are indulged, such as food, sex, (look at all the strip clubs and “adult entertainment” stores) drinking and even music, and only when in this altered mind state does a person truly experience New Orleans.  The most perfect example of this that I’ve witnessed personally, and sums up this assertion that New Orleans is a state of mind, is seeing tourists on Saint Charles walking around drinking huge beers.  Though its true many of these people are just living it up in the land of open containers, their actions are indicative of a deep reality of New Orleans, in that ultimately people don’t come here to see the city, they come here to feel it.  You could say that food and booze is like a psychic medium through which people come to experience the uniquely elusive culture and mind state that New Orleans truly exists within.  The people who come here on vacation to ride the streetcar and look at the old mansions are missing the point, because this city isn’t like any other city where you can just walk around and look at stuff and get a sense of what’s really going on that makes that city unique.  No, experiencing New Orleans is a far more intimate experience than a walking tour and a museum visit, and only in eating the city’s food, drinking its water, listening to its music and, and indulging in its pleasures, do you truly begin to understand what makes this city so different than any other city I’ve been to.  

Willie Mae's Scotch House

After watching "Saving Willie Mae's Scotch House" I felt both enticed, confused, and uncertain about the places history, its food and its role in a city that looks to the future with hope while clinging dearly to the past.  The movie itself was interesting in that it brought to light so many issues of race, food justice, and humanity, showing both sides of these issues without intending to do so.  The exterior premise of the movie was uplifting in many ways, chronicling the many ways in which one hard working elderly black woman managed to overcome tremendous adversity with the help of some good people and their charity.  However, despite the inspirational story, "Saving Willie Mae's Scotch House" was to me more of a story of the underlying issues facing Willie Mae's Scotch house, and not so much a story of its salvation.  For me, I was never able to get around the issue of Willie Mae's commendation for her delicious but unhealthy food in a city with so many food justice issues, and rampant food related illnesses.  I could never really get around why people rallied to this specific cause to save one elderly woman's livelihood, and it seemed less of a humanitarian endeavor than one of pity.  After visiting Willie Mae's, after she had  retired from her restaurant duties, the reasons for saving this restaurant seemed even more dubitable, as the reason for saving the restaurant was no longer part of the picture, making Willie Mae's culturally expendable.  The absence of Willie Mae and the fact that her children originally wanted no part in taking over the business seemed to rob Willie Mae's of the one special and enduring aspect the place had, that being Willie Mae, the recipient of the James Beard Award.  Eating the food and looking around the restaurant, I found myself questioning the authenticity of my meal, and felt that it lacked a certain something that only this special old woman could have provided.  Suddenly Willie Mae's had changed from the emblematic and anachronistic establishment it once was, to another place declaring they made the best fried chicken in the world, which was further highlighted by Dr. Nystrom's claim that Mckenzie's chicken in a box was better.  Though I thoroughly enjoyed my meal I couldn't shake the thought that saving one woman's storied livelihood and giving her a James Beard Award could really be indicative of the character of her place.  Willie Mae's restaurant's special qualities seemed to lie primarily in the perserverance of its proprietor and in its understatement, and with her gone, though my meal was filling I was left hungry for the authenticity that once made this place truly special.

A Tale of Two Grocers

To start off this assignment I decided to stop at whole foods first, so that I could capitalize on the cheaper prices at Langenstein's on cold cuts on the way back and avoid shlepping around with groceries in my backpack.  To begin to describe my experience at Whole Foods, I guess the best place to start is what I would call the grains and nuts aisle.  Whole foods was somewhat of a confusing store, just because of the sheer volume and variety of the items they offered, which often seemed unnecessary, an example of which can be seen in the grains and nuts aisle (pictured below).

I was blown away by the amount of different kinds of granola for sale in whole foods, (at least 6) as compared to the amounts of types of Granola I found in Langenstein's grocery, where I noticed one.  The sheer amount and variety of the various grains, legumes, berries, and nuts found in this aisle seemed absurd to me, but more absurd still was that somehow getting granola from a bird feeder made people feel like they were eating more healthy than by buying heartland granola by the box.  I found it confusing though that people were so willing to buy into the idea of organic granola merely because it came out of a bird feeder.  To be perfectly realistic, it's likely that the granola at whole foods was bought in quantities larger than the boxed granola at Langenstein's, yet somehow people are willing to believe that if something isn't in a box it must somehow be better.  To me this is indicative of the gross disconnect we have with our food in America, as corporations like whole foods manipulate the American consumer into paying more for organic with basic advertising tricks.  Multiple times I caught myself about to splurge on an item I knew I could get for less without even realizing I was falling victim to Whole Foods spending fever.  A good example of these inflatedly priced goods was the disparity in cold cut prices.  

Note the 25.99 per lb pricing

Solid bargain with the Langentstein's Roast beef at 5.99 per lb, as well as the 11.99 pricing per lb on their prosciutto.

Ultimately experiencing a true visit to Whole Foods for the first time was strange for me, particularly having been raised in a household where Organic was the standard without shopping at Whole Foods.  I was already biased against whole foods, but ultimately I didn't find any redeeming aspects to their store besides the abundance of prepared foods and niche items like quinhoa and all natural sweeteners (pictured below).  The problem I had with Whole Foods was that organic food as a concept is intended to get people to think about their food choices and understand where food comes from, and after looking at the five or six prepared food stations and eating a couple samples (the telltale heart of bulk sale stores), I didn't feel any closer to my food.  

My experience at Langenstein's grocery was significantly more satisfying.  Though Langenstein's at first glance looks like a warehouse for a canned food-drive, I found a significant amount of unexpected and niche items there.  Langenstein's selection for most types of things is pretty limited, for example they only have three types of peanut butter, (all of which are brand names and weren't accompanied by peanut grinding machines).  They also seemed to have a Kraft brand item on every shelf, which was impressive to say the least.  What was different though was the extent to which each shelf was packed with items.  Most of the time there was only one row of each item, as opposed to the rows upon rows of items at Whole Foods, which actually made it seem like people shopping at Langenstein's were buying all of the products they had to offer, making the items look functional instead of decorative.  In addition the approach to the management of the market was more traditional; they had a greeter at the door, people bagging groceries with paper bags, and used paper price labels as opposed to Whole Foods' electronic price tags.  

Our School at Blair Grocery

This Sunday I headed to Our School at Blair Grocery, an alternative school in the lower ninth ward that also sells organic produce grown right on the premises.  The first thing I noticed about O.S.B.G. was how much the experimental school and fledgling urban farming program that I had worked at in 2008 had grown and evolved.  The same plots of muddy land that I had helped shovel and hoe into rows four years ago now housed huge plants and vegetables growing in soil that looked far less devoid of nutrients, and even lush.  Though the school and market were closed upon arrival with no signs of activity within, the trip wasn't quite pointless, as the environment and the experience with the locals was indicative of much greater underlying issues within New Orleans and the lower ninth ward in particular, and the role that food plays between the two.  Our School at Blair Grocery is a perfect example of what it takes to overcome the years of neglect, and the aftermath of Katrina, in revitalizing and rejuvenating a community from the ground up.  Because of the shortage of true grocery stores in the lower ninth ward, O.S.B.G. provides a venue for fresh ingredients, and defies the status quo of deli sandwiches, hot links, and beer which seemed often to be the only places with foodstuffs in the lower ninth.  If food is an indicator of culture, then O.S.B.G. is an indicator in defying the pre-existing status quo for culture.  Upon arriving at the school, we immediately started attracting intense gazes of confusion/unwelcoming, which was never the case while I was at the school 4 years ago working on whatever it was that needed to be done.  That aspect of the trip particularly struck me because it showed just how significant a farmers market is in terms of societal and cultural cease fire.  This was where the major disparity between the projected image of the school and the complete picture ascertained from being there while it was closed first became apparent.  As much as O.S.B.G. is slowly making a change in the community and culture of the lower ninth ward, it takes longer for its surroundings and the community to catch up with the subliminal and physical change that abounds within the confines of the schools property.  Obviously thats no surprise to anyone, but the fact that the change is slow and even disapproved of is a sign of just how much this school symbolically seeks to undertake, that being a backwards american food culture that is the victim of its own globalization.

In Search of Sustenance (Interview)

Attesting to the size of the macho burrito.

“Id say probably half the week my mom would cook, a couple days my dad would cook and the rest of the days we’d go out to eat.  They're both pretty good at it my mom usually cooked the dinners, my dad preferred cooking breakfast. 

Family room back home, not usually I mean we all ate pretty fast so it was all like, the food is made and we were done eating it in like minutes, the food was made fast, we all ate you know in the same room, the family room, theirs a table in there.  We ate probably past seven, but usually before eight.  When my parents were getting home from work and stuff.” 

“I’d probably have to say the worst experience I’ve had was when I went to Outback steakhouse, which I love, but I ate too much.  I ate hella steak, and potatoes…and then dessert, and I was only in like fourth grade, it was a lot of food.  So I mean I finished it all, but I puked all over the place, in outback steakhouse, but I played it off like I didn’t do it.  That was probably the worst experience, but that was because I overate and it was in public.”

"In terms of a change in my appreciation for food, Well coming here I have been deprived of my favorite types of food, and…different types of food, and I have been limited to only using wolfbucks, so, my appreciation has exponentially grown, especially since I’ve been here, and I miss home cooking more than anything.  Also, having a car allowing me to go to different places around the bay, or around my city, allowed me to have a lot more of a cultural diversity in what I ate." 

"One appreciation that’s growns is that I appreciate Mexican food more.  I love its combination of strong flavors combined into one…I’m talking about spice, salsa, spicy salsa, guacamole, sour cream… I would say one of the best Mexican food experiences I’ve had would be one time after football practice, um it was one of the harder ones, we were all really tired, and uh I needed some sustenance so I went to the Mexican restaurant up the street, caravel street, called “El burrito” and uh, I got their macho burrito, and what made it so macho was that it was double the size of a normal burrito,  and was basically a foot long, like massive burrito, and there was nothing more filling and sustaining as a macho burrito, two burritos put into one, the most glorious burrito of them all.  A steak macho burrito, a lot of steak." 

"It has to be filling…not nearly it isn’t.  I guess for me it would just have to be the…its not even about portion size…It just doesn’t get all the pyramid groups for me, maybe it just gets a lot of fried fat, a lot of carbs, empty calories, but where’s all my nutrition?  I want to be healthy, I want to grow up and be strong, how can you do that with all fried food?"  

Photo Essay

This is where my food vacation started.  Upon getting home I had to go to the oral surgeon and get two wisdom teeth removed, so the role of food in the beginning of my break was to annoy me.  I didn't eat anything except for soup and ice cream in the beginning of break, on account of the stitches.  However my food frustration didn't last forever and I was eventually able to diversify my diet, and to be honest time flies when you're on vicodin.

After a few loopy days of soup and ice cream my mom hired me to help her in preparing a dinner for some of her friends' birthdays.  This was great for me because I knew I'd get snack on and make some great food, and getting paid a little made the deal even sweeter.  Less enjoyable duties included setting the table, seen here.

Though I don't frequently help my mom prepare multi course meals, this job was indicative of the role food plays in my family in general, where eating and cooking is also something that brings people or our family together.  My family is passionate about food and for me part of going home is getting to experience that again.

The first course of the meal was home made potato gnocchi, which required us to bake some potatoes, put them through a ricer a couple of times and then make a dough with some flour and egg.  After that we rolled the dough into strands and cut them into gnocchi sized pieces, heres a picture of my masterful rolling technique.  These things were so damn good, mostly due to their being perfect vehicles for unnecessary amounts of butter.

Sauteed onions with butter sauce and fried sage leaves was served with the gnocchi.

The second thing we made was an oven roasted cauliflower dish.  It was roasted with lemon and olive oil and then my mom threw some spices and capers in it, im not sure what really went into it though because I was still cleaning the stuff from the gnocchi while it was being made.  

This was an appetizer my mom cooked up without me.  These are little filo cups, kinda like mini pie crusts, that are filled with buttery lobster, called lobster bites, (imagine lobster roll meets crumbly mini pie crusts).  

Last but not least on the menu was roast leg of lamb.  The lamb was cooked with a bread crumb crust that contained orange marmalade, cranberry jelly, garlic, dijon mustard, and some things I forgot.  Though the recipe sounded sort of strange, it actually turned out really well and gave a sweet but also sharp accent to the lamb.  

Patois

Having worked behind the scenes at a fancy restaurant I was immediately interested in examining the reviews of Restaurant Patois, which seemed to hold a standard and price point that reminded me of the River Cafe.  As I began reading and trying to analyze the reviews in terms of the role it plays in the community I noticed a number of things. 

First off, Patois is predominantly given a four and five star rating, asides from a few concise reviews every now and again that criticized it with misspelled words.  Secondly, I began to notice the types of people who ate at and reviewed Patois seemed to be predominantly either foodie tourists or people who weren’t concerned about the cost of the meal as much as they did of the alcohol: “The only aspect of the meal that I did not enjoy was the wine service” (Susan W.).  In terms of the audience indicated by the reviews the that Patois plays in creating a community is minimal compared to the New Orleans institution type restaurants I’ve attended.   Not only is Patois’ primary target group not the residents of the city, but it sometimes plays a negative role in the community, like harboring enmity between it and less wealthy or educated people: “The worst dinner ever .The ribs were burned and tasteless(Burn taste)” (Deniz S.).  Nonetheless Patois does seem to have one redeeming aspect in terms of its role within the social and food communities of New Orleans, that being its Sunday brunch.  Patois’ Sunday brunch attracts a lot of locals, who praise it highly as well.  One local reviewer cited it as a favorite place to bring guests of the city, saying of the brunch, “what better way to break someone into New Orleans then forcing them to eat rabbit while washing it down with a mimosa or a French 75” (Whitney J.).  Ultimately what seems to hold Patois back the most is its service, which causes most of its three star ratings.  One customer complained that “I asked the waiter to describe one of the dishes and the response was: ‘what do you mean’ followed by him taking the menu from my hand and reading me the description” (Katherine S.).

Ultimately Patois fails to live up to its reputation and the standard of a New Orleans institution because the role it plays in the community and its culture is an estranged one.  Not only does Patois seem to fail to make itself a place in the community by catering to tourists, but it abandons the food’s integrity by abandoning the people of the city that pioneered the very same cuisine and style of dining it claims.