Have you heard about the new ad campaign that’s branding baby carrots as junk food? Not an alternative to junk food. But junk food’s cheeky, farm-fresh cousin. There will be crinkly, snacky-type bags, some sold in vending machines, all labeled with the hipster directive to “Eat ‘em like junk food.”

In a world of food gone crazy, this is one of the dumbest things I’ve ever seen.

All they need is orange dust

Something like 50 carrot growers are teaming up to spend $25 million to persuade parents and kids that eating carrots is good not because carrots are nutritional powerhouses and tasty, too, but because they’re orange and doodle-shaped like Cheetos. (Haven’t we been down this road with cartoon characters?)

Here’s Bolthouse Farms CEO Jeff Dunn (a former Coca-Cola executive) in yesterday’s USA Today story: “It’s not an anti-junk-food campaign. It takes a page out of junk food’s playbook and applies it to baby carrots.”

Because, of course, junk food is such a good role model.

But the best bit belongs to advertising psychologist Carol Moog, who, according to the story, “says kids may be disappointed to find all the flashy ads are really just for carrots. She says they need to make carrots more fun — like, perhaps, putting an orange (but natural) dusting on carrots that mimics Cheetos.”

Moment of silence, please, as I ponder the ridiculousness of that statement.

So. What do you think? Harmless fun? Or hell in a handbasket?

Some trivia: Did you know that “baby” carrots are, in fact, whole carrots chopped and whittled to nubs? Fascinating backstory here. 

This post is linked into Real Food Wednesdays, Fight Back Fridays, Vegetarian Foodie Fridays and Wholesome Whole Foods.

  Copyright protected by Digiprove © 2010 Christina Le Beau

We all know Jamie Olivers in the making. A parent, a teacher, a student. Someone who’s making noise. School-food reform is big news these days, the stuff of TV shows, government campaigns and blog crusades. And even before all the hoopla, plenty of parents and others were working below the radar to get better food in their kids’ schools.

But what about making that food sustainable, chemical-free and ethical? That? That is a whole other ballgame.

Most school-food changes are motivated by the crisis proportions of childhood obesity and diabetes. Important? Of course. But if we’re going to raise a nation of thinking eaters — indeed, a nation of truly healthy kids — schools need to move beyond calorie count and replacing white bread with wheat. They need to ask hard questions about how they source their food and what’s in it.

We’re not there yet. Far from it. Too many schools are still striving for even the most basic changes. (And sometimes meeting resistance along the way.) But there’s been steady growth in school gardens and farm-to-school programs, often the first steps toward making the food sustainable as well as healthful.

So let’s think big. Let’s look at what can happen when a school starts asking those hard questions. The Harley School, a private school in Rochester, NY, where I live, is perhaps farther along this path than most. And while you could argue that affluence and a progressive bent make it an isolated success story, in fact Harley has faced many of the same obstacles that confound other schools: cost, availability and habit.

Harvesting lettuce for the lunchroom salad bar
(photo courtesy of the Harley School)

What’s interesting is how Harley has approached the shift toward more sustainable food: by involving students deep in the journey, from growing their own organic veggies to, in one case, participating in the purchase and slaughter of a locally raised, grass-fed lamb.

Harley, which has 600 students in preschool through 12th grade, first made changes to its lunch program in 2005. In the years since, it has eliminated most refined grains and processed foods, and now each day offers fresh fruit, a full salad bar, scratchmade soups and several entrees, including a growing number of vegetarian options. The school no longer sells soda or candy or junk vending. And as of this year it’s no longer accepting government-subsidized food. Harley never served much government food to begin with, but the commodity weaning was a conscious decision

But there’s still chocolate milk and juice, and holdouts like processed chicken fingers. The dessert Harley offers twice a week often means packaged sweets like cookies cut and baked from rolls of refrigerated dough. And the school’s summer camp still serves processed white-bread fare

So it’s a work in progress. But still impressive. And now, along with these foundational changes, the school has begun buying local produce and using some locally milled and made breads. And it’s just started tackling the trickiest questions of all: about ethically produced meat, dairy and eggs.

It’s an effort led primarily by Chris Hartman, well-known to Rochester food folks as the co-founder of both the producer-only South Wedge Farmers Market and the Good Food Collective, a multi-farm CSA. Hartman, himself a Harley alum (and now a Harley parent), heads up social and environmental responsibility for the school. (I know Chris personally because I’m a member of the volunteer advisory committee for the South Wedge market. We also bought a share this year in the Good Food Collective CSA.)

Three years ago, Harley students planted their first school garden. It’s now doubled in size, to a quarter acre, basically becoming a microfarm. Last year, it supplied about a week’s worth of produce for the school, including lettuce, green beans, carrots, tomatoes, potatoes, peppers and herbs. During this year’s growing season, the garden should fill the school’s daily salad bar, plus provide vegetables for some meals. A new high tunnel will extend the season for some crops, and menu planning will maximize seasonal ingredients. Combined, the school garden and local farms should provide about half of Harley’s produce.

But it’s not just about offering better food — it’s also about teaching kids (and families) why the food is better. Buying local food “might be fresher, tastier, safer and more nutritious, but you also have to design your program to support that, to teach people that,” says Ken Motsenbocker, the school’s chief financial officer. “We have to make that intentional.”

That means working with kids in the garden, encouraging them to savor the taste of fresh food and helping them understand how real food fuels their bodies. It means posting signs in the cafeteria when food comes from the garden and local farms. And providing recipes and little samples like in the grocery store. This year Chris plans to send kids home with garden goodies and recipes to make salads with their families and document the results (in words or pictures), what he calls “my little Jamie Oliver-style stuff.”

But of course this all takes time. The small kitchen staff spends hours prepping the salad bar (which might also include yogurt, hummus, eggs, beans and grain salads). Washing, slicing and roasting veggies can take a whole morning. And of course it takes money. Harley has increased its food spending by 20% a year. Yet it’s still not enough to cover all the changes that could be made.

Which is why Chris hopes to find local farmers interested in selling bulk. “This is not going to work well with the market-style farmer selling tomatoes for $5 a quart,” he says. “We need to find farmers willing to charge less by selling more.” That goes for milk, too. Harley plans to ask one of the region’s sustainable dairies about packaging small milk cartons for school use. And if Harley can get these kinds of partners on board, get the infrastructure in place, then maybe those producers can start supplying other schools, too.

Some changes, though, may take a bit longer.

When Chris led an independent study for a group of students to buy, butcher and eat a lamb (an outgrowth of a class on the history and politics of food), the exercise raised a few eyebrows. But it also sparked “the conversation we should be having.” So Harley hosted a student assembly to talk about meat. And that included a hot-button topic for schools nationwide: chicken fingers.

Harley buys the white-meat kind. They’re baked, not fried. But still. They’re processed, full of additives and factory-farmed meat. Finding a local, ethical alternative is highly unlikely. Any national organic version probably costs twice as much. So Chris asked: “What if we eat half as many or have them half as often?” Then Harley could spend the same amount of money, but in better conscience.

The verdict is still out. The assembly took place just before school ended for the summer, and at last count there were students on both sides of the issue (as well as those who thought the school should consider dropping meat altogether). But school is starting again and, with it, the conversation continues.

What about you? Thoughts? Reactions? What kinds of conversations are your schools having?

This post is linked into Real Food Wednesdays, Fight Back Fridays, Vegetarian Foodie Fridays and Wholesome Whole Foods. It’s also part of the Lunch Revolution Blog Party (with prizes galore) at Notes from the Cookie Jar and Fed Up With Lunch with Mrs. Q.

One more thing: If your kids bring their own lunches to school, it’s easy to think you’ve escaped the worst of it. But this post, by Better School Food founder (and “Two Angry Moms” crusader) Susan Rubin, reminds us not to get complacent.

  Copyright protected by Digiprove © 2010 Christina Le Beau

Victory climb

It’s the height of summer. Berry season. We’ve been picking and freezing great quantities of strawberries and blueberries. Raspberries are next, if we can catch them before they’re gone. Then the blackberries begin.  And that’s got me thinking. 

About Block Island, RI, one of our favorite places on the planet, about the blackberries that grow wild there, and also about our daughter, because Block Island is a childhood-summer kind of place, all beaches and bikes and possibilities. So I hope you’ll indulge a bit of nostalgia as I share an essay I wrote two summers ago. It’s about food. And kids. And other things that matter. 

We hadn’t planned to take the stairs down the cliff to the beach below. It was late, we’d been cycling all day and our daughter’s bedtime was near. She’s 4. There were what, 150 steps? We heard other people tallying as they returned to the top. There might actually be 200 steps or more. It didn’t seem like a good idea. Tiny, tired legs and all that. 

But the coast beckoned. This island, its calm beauty like a salve, had relaxed us all, released us from the stress of my husband’s job loss and made everything simple. Our daughter, reveling in her vacation liberation (staying up late! ice cream every night! muffins for breakfast!), begged to make the descent, so we did. Even when the stairs gave way to a slippery cascade of rocks and slope, she trooped on. 

There were many beaches on the island, most more accessible than this. But here island lore hung in the mist as waves crash-caressed the rocky shore. The cliffs we’d just descended mirrored the arc of the waves, clay silhouettes curved up and under against the breathless blue of ocean and sky. In pictures, our daughter is dancing, making funny faces as salty hair whips across her cheeks. She is windswept, we are swept away. 

We see the blackberries on the return to the top. On the way down we’d been cautious, watching our daughter navigate the steps, staying always within reach. But the ascent is victorious. She bounds toward the top, leaving us to notice the dense clusters of blackberry bushes along the stairs. I’m sure she’d take the steps two at a time if her legs would carry her. 

They’re delicious, the blackberries. Small and tart-sweet. When we start noticing them elsewhere on the island — along roads, in shoreline thickets, on restaurant menus, everywhere — I can’t shake the feeling that they’re telling me a story. 

Maybe it’s all this communing with nature, the way my daughter’s face lights up bright and proud after she collects a handful to share with us. Or the way sweet fruit and ocean breezes stir up a perfect moment that amplifies, grows mythic, comes to define a summer. 

Then I learn that blackberries symbolize generosity and wealth, healing and protection. A few weeks before our trip, my husband had started a new job, following his second layoff in as many years. When he lost his job, I bought him a money tree plant, more because of silly superstitious why-not than anything else. And he did get that new job. And now there were these portentous blackberries. Everywhere. A new beginning? 

The honey we buy at the island farmers’ market comes from blackberry blossoms. Our daughter the honey enthusiast — who’d eat it by the bowl if we’d let her — wants to know why bees like blackberries. For the same reason we do, I tell her, because they taste good. 

I don’t explain that it’s actually more complicated. Blackberry plants can self-pollinate. They can bear fruit without help from bees. But to get the best fruit? That takes two. The bees do their dance. The blackberries grow ripe and plump. And — if you believe even a little bit that blackberries can tell a story — the universe sets things right. 

Island find

What are your favorite food memories? Especially the ones that aren’t really food memories at all…? 

This post is linked into Real Food Wednesdays, Fight Back Fridays, Food Revolution Fridays, Vegetarian Foodie Fridays and Wholesome Whole Foods.

A new Spoonfed post is coming very soon. (So much for stockpiling posts before vacation.) In the meantime, I’m participating in a new monthly blog carnival sponsored by Healthy Child Healthy World, a non-profit that is all about protecting kids from chemicals where they live, play and learn (food included).

This month’s theme, “Splendor in the Grass,” explores ways to inspire kids to connect with nature, sans pesticides and other nasties. My contribution is a recent post called “Clean food and dirty kids,” about how mood-boosting bacteria (found only in healthy, organic soil) is a good reason for kids to get up close and personal with their food. Other bloggers submitted posts on everything from non-toxic lawns to backyard habitats. Here’s the full list. And a few of my favorites:

• “The most expensive egg we’ll ever eat” is Rookie Moms’ riff on the family’s new chickens.
• Adventures with Three Girls takes on green yards and a weed-eater named Delilah.
• Almost All the Truth tackles two words: muddy kids.
• (Apparently I have a thing for chickens.) Mommy Goes Green talks safe lawns and the wonders of something called Chickity Doo Doo.

For more on Healthy Child Healthy World and how even small changes can make a big difference, check out the group’s video, “A Wake-Up Story”:

So this is fun. A month ago I wrote a diatribe against children’s menus, calling them out for being unhealthy and insulting. A lively discussion ensued. Then Brian Van Etten, the chef at The Owl House, a new restaurant in Rochester, N.Y., got in touch. He wanted input on his children’s menu. I posed the question to readers. Another lively discussion all around.     

Now Brian weighs in. What did he think of our ideas? What’s realistic (and not so much)? And what is he going to feed our kids?     

First of all, thanks for the opportunity to take a glimpse into the minds of parents regarding the possibilities for the ideal children’s menu. I fully feel that the current “food revolution” is an incredibly positive vehicle for changing the way that Americans eat, as well as developing the taste buds and palates of our youngest generation of foodies.     

For as long as I can remember, kids’ menus have been basically a hodgepodge of fried foods, more often than not brought in fully cooked and frozen, then quickly reheated (deep fried!) with a side of ketchup. Restaurant owners and their chefs have treated kids’ menus as an afterthought, if that.     

Even today, while planning tonight’s dinner menu for visiting extended family, I was completely baffled as to how I was going to please the four younger eaters. My mind jumped immediately toward simple, traditional “kid food”: pizza, pasta, blah, blah, blah. Fortunately, I’ve now been given a great deal of insight into the subject, and will be taking a brand-new approach toward pleasing not only the room full of adults, but the children as well.     

Your readers brought up some great points, and also delivered on some flavorful, mostly healthy and reasonable options to feed their children. On the other hand, some of the ideas proposed are a bit out there, requiring the purchase of extensive amounts of extra product, as well as extra space, time and preparation, none of which are easy to come by in a tiny commercial kitchen composed of three people. Our goal is to balance the desires of parents with the actuality of the kitchen. We’ll do what we can, with the time and space we have, and I truly feel we can accommodate everyone, a goal that this restaurant already has gone to great lengths to meet by making the menu accessible to all diets.     

Below is a brief response to some of the comments submitted by your readers.     

First and foremost, children will be presented with a separate menu, composed of the dishes that we feel best represent our kitchen’s philosophy: fresh, from scratch, New American food.     

The general outline of the menu will be half-portions of regular options. I’m proud of the menu we’ve put together, and I have complete faith in each and every dish. We’ve put a lot of time and thought into each item, and the balancing of tastes and textures. Simply put, this is great food. By presenting the same dishes to children, we’ll be truly testing the dishes and, at the same time, delivering flavorful, intelligent dishes to all patrons.     

Easy peasy

 That said, we’re planning (a few) additional items geared toward the needs of younger eaters. In addition to our rotating variety of inventive takes on grilled cheese, a more straightforward version will always be available. (Think New York cheddar and tomato jam on Baker Street bread.) We’ll also have a similar take on a flatbread, as we’ll always have a housemade roasted-garlic marinara and some great fresh mozzarella. I’m a big fan of the nut butter/bread/fruit plate that was mentioned, and that will be a breeze to accommodate. A nice portion of housemade almond butter, some local berries and a big whack of fresh-baked baguette. For those with gluten intolerance, at all times we’ll have a housemade gluten-free bread available. We’re also making hummus here, and will be glad to substitute that for the nut butter.     

For extremely picky eaters who like what we’re offering but need something substituted, we’ll try our best. There are reasonable substitutions, and then there are those people who want restaurant kitchens to give them the world. We’ll offer what we believe to be a happy medium.     

Unfortunately, some of the ideas were a bit too extensive. Offering a “build-your-own” platter is beyond the reach of this restaurant. We hope to be consistently busy, and delivering a plate of food hand-picked and customized to one customer, young or old, won’t work. The time it takes to prep, cook and plate something of that caliber would stop a kitchen dead in its tracks, and is something that just isn’t feasible in a place this small, and with such a small staff. Just taking an order with so many options, followed by entering the order into our computer system, would be enough to throw the very delicate rhythm of a restaurant out of whack.     

Third-sized portions are also not an option. Small commercial kitchens are very thought-out and methodical in the planning and preparation of dishes. Every scrap of bread, every slice of tomato, every portion of fish, tofu or what-have-you is prepared with precision. Even halving dishes has a great risk for waste, but it’s a risk we’re willing to take in order to fulfill the majority of needs that our diners have. Offering a third-sized portion in addition just won’t work.     

In the end, we’re doing what we know best. We’re making our food, the food we love to eat and, ideally, the food that everyone, young or old, will enjoy. Dumbing down dishes, deep-frying frozen processed chicken, and melting cheese over everything just won’t satisfy the needs of young eaters, or the needs of young restaurants with a passion for creativity and flavor.     

As for that family dinner tonight? I’m making tacos. Big bowls of beautiful tomatillo salsa, lemony sour cream, bright herby guacamole, tangy red cabbage and jicama slaw, crispy tilapia, well-seasoned grilled skirt steak, roasted marinated portobellos, and a big salad with organic greens and Lively Run feta. Big, bright flavors that I believe everyone can enjoy.     

Chris here again. The restaurant opens this month. I’m all over that cheddar and tomato jam sandwich. How about you? 

This post is linked into Foodie Tots’ Local Potluck Tuesdays and Real Food Wednesdays.

Strawberry fields forever

There came a moment during strawberry-picking last week when the 6-year-olds decided they’d had enough. While the grown-ups continued busily picking a flat apiece, my daughter and her friend snuck off to the shade for a drink and a snack. Then the girls plopped themselves in the dirt and set to work, drawing roads and concocting stories about the imaginary travelers at the ends of their sticks.    

I’ve always thought playing in dirt makes kids happy because it’s messy. And sensory. And because kids aren’t hung up on being clean and smelling good and worrying what others think. All they know is that dirt is transformative. Literally, from dust to mud. Figuratively, from strawberry patch to fairy highway.    

Yes and, apparently, no.    

Plenty of research over the last decade and more has shown how kids benefit from gardening and other time spent in nature.*  They’re more confident, patient, responsible and compassionate.  They know (and care) more about food and the environment. They learn more easily. Some of that is simple exposure to living, growing things. But a lot of it is the freedom, fresh air and physical activity that lets little brains and bodies find their groove.    

Healthy soil, happy kid

Now we have studies on the effects of contact with dirt itself. But not just any dirt. Garden dirt. Farm dirt. Soil. The rich, healthy, organic stuff. Because that’s the kind of dirt that contains a bacteria called Mycobacterium vaccae, a bug that’s been getting a lot of attention. A 2007 study found that M. vaccae increases serotonin — the brain’s feel-good chemical — and decreases anxiety. A new study, out last month, reports that M. vaccae’s mood-boosting properties make it easier to learn new things. Get M. vaccae on your hands, inhale it while you dig — even eat some on freshly harvested lettuce — and the research says you’ll feel more relaxed, alive, alert.    

Studies or not, that kind of makes sense, you know? When I think about how my daughter responds to plants and soil, how she both lights up and calms down, it does seem as though something biological is at work. I feel it, too, when I garden bare-handed with dust in my lungs and dirt up my nose. All of which has me newly appreciating the attraction of children to dirt. And the importance of getting kids outside, not just to play, but to plant or pick and otherwise connect in a direct way with their food.    

I’m a longtime and serious — though now seriously lapsed — flower gardener, but I haven’t delved as deeply into edible gardening as I’d hoped. Partly that’s time, and partly it’s the abundance here in western New York and the gratitude I feel for the farmers who supply our food. We usually have a few tomatoes and herbs, some beans or peas potted up at school, a tiny patch of resilient raspberries, and the occasional squash or pumpkin that springs from the compost pile. But mostly we’re happy to just reap the benefits of what the farmers do best.    

Two weeks ago, we had a raging discussion here on the topic of children’s menus. In a nutshell: They’re loaded with unhealthy food. They’re insulting. They perpetuate the false and damaging notion that “kid food” should be its own distinct (junked-up and deep-fried) category. 

Not the kid menu

Brian Van Etten, the chef at a new restaurant about to open in Rochester, N.Y., took note. He asked for my input on a children’s menu. I offered to pose the question to readers. So here we are. 

The restaurant, called The Owl House, will be making nearly everything from scratch (including condiments), and sourcing as much as possible from local growers and vendors. So there won’t be the usual concerns about overly processed brown and crispy food. But neither Brian nor the restaurant’s two owners have children, so they’re interested in input from people who do. 

The menu has a lot of sandwiches — everything from smoked tofu and avocado to steak and portobello — but there also are soups, salads, snacky starters like housemade pickles and grilled flatbreads, and more elaborate plated meals. 

Brian wants to know: What’s your ideal children’s menu? Would you prefer half-portions of adult meals? Or, he asks: “Are there other standbys that parents would kill to see available for their children? If so, what? Our flatbreads with a basic marinara and cheese? A simple pasta/mac-and-cheese dish?” 

Anything else? Anything you’d really love to see? And anything you’d rather never (ever) see again? 

Brian also offered up thoughts from the other side of the kitchen. Illuminating thoughts. That’s not to say I’m letting restaurants off the hook. Not. At. All. But what Brian said might help explain, just a little, why some restaurants fall into the children’s menu rut. 

For one thing, adding separate scratchmade children’s menu items (vs. the standard packaged fare) means chefs have to add more ingredients, more prep time and more space, risky extras for a potentially small percentage of customers. Also, even with half-portions, many items are portioned in advance, so any unsold half-portions could go to waste. Brian is quick to note that he’s smart about using leftovers creatively rather than throwing them away. But still, it could happen, so for some restaurants that’s a concern. 

Another interesting observation: “I worry that sometimes children don’t truly get half-portions in restaurants, (that) they get something closer to two-thirds. If we did the half-portion route, it would be truly that: exact half-portions, and most likely for exactly half the cost.” So that’s something to keep in mind if your kid is a big eater (but not a big eater). 

What do you think? Here’s your chance to help design a kids’ menu that doesn’t make us cringe. For those of you outside Rochester: Maybe chefs and restaurant owners elsewhere will eavesdrop on the conversation and we can start our own little restaurant food revolution. I can hope, right? 

This post is linked into Real Food Wednesdays, Fight Back Fridays and Vegetarian Foodie Fridays.

I’m a journalist, which means I balk at reporting anything before I can suss it out. So I was going to post about this after I’d attended a meeting planned for tonight and talked to more of the people involved and done all those other reporter sorts of things. And I still will. But in the meantime, the parent-blogger-food activist part of me wants to speak. So I’m sharing what I know so far:

A school where I live has managed to fight the tide and introduce healthier lunch options, things like grilled-chicken wraps, bean and cheese burritos, whole-wheat pasta and pita pizzas. There are more whole grains, more fresh fruits and vegetables, and the school encourages kids and parents to submit healthful recipes to be prepared by the food-service folks. Progress, right?

Except now a group of parents (though no one knows just how many) has started a campaign to bring the old food back. 

They call themselves “Traditional Lunch Choices,” or “TLC” for short. (If that’s not irony, I don’t know what is. When did “chicken nugget” become a traditional food?) The crux of their argument is this: Their kids don’t like the new food, so they’re not eating it, so they’re coming home hungry.

And since the old food meets USDA nutritional guidelines and already excludes trans fats and includes some whole grains, well, that’s good enough. If the school wants to offer “healthier choices” (their words, not mine), that’s fine, so long as the “traditional choices” are offered, too. Because, the group claims, schools are responsible for providing the food, but not for dictating what that food is.

I get the part about hungry kids. That stinks. And hungry kids don’t learn. So if these kids really aren’t eating, something needs to be done about that. But how much of that is a self-fulfilling prophecy? The group is basing its claims in part on a small survey of kids and on comments from parents, including this one: “My little girl is only in kindergarten right now. She will be eating lunch at school next September, and I know she will not like anything on the ‘newer’ menu.”

This little girl doesn’t even eat in the cafeteria yet, and yet this parent already knows she won’t like the food. 

But, OK, let’s say some of the kids really aren’t eating the food. Does that mean you go back to pumping kids full of sugar, artificial colors and other additives that have no place in developing bodies? Food with very few nutrients (despite the USDA’s definition of “nutrition”)? Food that in no way is helping them learn, and in all likelihood is hindering it? 

No, it means you visit the lunchroom and see what and how your kid is eating. You encourage him or her to try new things. You don’t talk bad about the new food. You take advantage of the opportunity to submit some recipes you think your kid will like. You work with the school to do what’s in the best interest of your child.

And you realize that while you may have a different opinion, your opinion is not fact. And the fact is that our kids are dying young and developing horrible diseases because of the way we feed them. And if you can do anything — anything at all — to prevent that, why wouldn’t you?

Here’s the group’s website so you can see the argument for yourself. But because these things have a way of disappearing from the web, I’m also sharing some excerpts below (capitalization and punctuation as is):

“The school districts’ responsibility regarding food, is to meet the nutritional USDA guidelines that are set for schools. Beyond that, we should also expect that the district would not allow vending machines to sell soda and candy. After that, the school’s job is to TEACH READING, WRITING, MATH, and other academic fundamentals! THAT is what school is for!”

“Our elementary school has 1st – 5th graders. Ages range from about 6 – 11 years old. They are young children and some are more PICKY when it comes to eating than others. Also, families have varied tastes and choices when it comes to the foods we serve at home; we are all very DIFFERENT and like DIFFERENT things.”

“ADDING healthier choices to the menu is a great idea as long as the hot traditional choices are offered as well!”

What do you think about all of this?

For an eye-opening inside view of school food and those USDA guidelines, check out this article by school-food consultant Kate Adamick. And this one by journalist and food activist Ed Bruske, who guest-posted today over at Fed Up With Lunch, where anonymous teacher Mrs. Q blogs about eating school lunch every day. Also see my post about the school-food movie “Two Angry Moms.”

Update on June 9: Based on changes made to the TLC website this morning, it’s pretty clear the TLC folks were at the meeting last night, but they didn’t reveal themselves even when asked. On the website, they’ve now added objections to the school buying fresh food and to teachers offering food and nutrition education in the classroom (two topics discussed last night). Still wrapping my head around those objections. I’ve also contacted the TLC folks to see if they’d like to add anything here.

Update on June 11: The TLC website has been edited down to just a few paragraphs. Not sure what that means. I’ve also been e-mailing back and forth with someone (still anonymous) who replied to the e-mail I sent. She has declined to comment. (Everyone at that meeting, except for one principal, was a woman, so I don’t think I’m stretching to use “she.”) But she did share some e-mails that TLC has received privately. They’re nasty, which is unfortunate. I’m grateful the discussion here has remained (mostly) civil and thoughtful.

This post is linked into Fight Back Fridays, Food Revolution Fridays and Vegetarian Foodie Fridays.

Summertime. When the living is easy, road trips entice, and that road is paved with fast food and greasy spoons. What to do, what to do.

Road trip!

As a longtime vegetarian, I’ve been bringing food on the road for years, if only a few bananas and granola bars to get me through the gauntlet of golden arches. When we started traveling with a little one, though, I needed to think bigger (and beyond the dreaded children’s menu). Which is why I now spend more time packing food than clothes. We can’t eat on the road exactly like we do at home, but we can try.

Drink up

A staple, no matter how long the trip: stainless-steel water thermoses. We fill them with ice and water when we leave and just keep refilling along the way. I like the insulated ones because they keep water cold and don’t sweat. I also whip up a blenderful of smoothies and fill a thermos. It at least gets us through to our first destination and possibly to breakfast the next morning. Then we have an empty thermos to use later if needed.

Cool it

For short trips, we bring just a soft-sided cooler and ice packs, then transfer food to a refrigerator at the hotel or, in a pinch, an ice bucket topped with a towel and set atop the air-conditioning unit. On longer trips we bring a small hard-sided cooler. And for this summer we’re planning to buy a cooler/mini fridge that plugs into the car lighter. I’m more excited about that than I should be.

I also always pack a small cooler bag for day trips. Even in situations where we can’t freeze ice packs, like when we were on a weeklong cycling and camping trip, or if we’re staying somewhere without a fridge, the bag protects food from the heat. At least for a little while. 

Portable kitchen

Just the basics: a small cutting board and a knife with a protective sleeve; forks and spoons; cups (which can double as bowls); a few empty food-storage containers; some plastic baggies and cloth snack bags; paper towels and wet wipes; dish soap and a dish towel; and those fabric grocery sacks that fold into little pouches (for shopping). Oh, and a corkscrew/bottle opener. Just sayin’. 

The food

I don’t go crazy with perishables, since we restock along the way, but it’s nice to have a small reserve. Typical fare: carrot sticks and red pepper strips, clementines, grapes and apples (pre-washed), cut cheese, hummus and whole-grain wraps. Sometimes we’ll bring Stonyfield Farms squeezable yogurts. I don’t like the sugar, but they’re organic and the cows are treated well and pastured, and we freeze them before leaving so my daughter has a healthier alternative to rest-stop popsicles.  She loves frozen peas and berries, too, so sometimes I throw in bags of those. Like the yogurt, they double as ice packs.  

Otherwise it’s things like nuts, seeds, raisins, other dried and freeze-dried fruit, trail mix, popcorn, granola bars, whole-grain crackers, unsweetened applesauce cups, and treats like organic fruit leathers and fig cookies. Also cherry tomatoes and sugar snap peas if they’re in season. And still-green bananas. (If you’ve ever traveled with ripe bananas, you know why.)

If we’ll be away more than a few days, I pack jars of almond or peanut butter and jam, and some bread. Also granola for breakfast. (Then we hope to find organic milk or yogurt on the road.) Unsweetened instant oatmeal would be good, too. On a recent quick trip, I opted for individual squeeze packets of organic peanut butter, so we had a better option if our breakfast toast, say, came only with margarine (trans fats) or those little jelly cups (high-fructose corn syrup). Yes, these things occur to me. As my husband is fond of saying (fondly): “It’s not easy being you, is it?”

Basically, I pack a variety of things to serve as snacks and small meals. I don’t pack for the apocalypse. We have only so much room in the car, plus part of the fun of road trips is discovering local groceries and farmstands along the way.

Restocking

Sometimes those groceries and farmstands just pop up on the horizon, so we try to take full advantage when they do. Other times we go looking for them, which is when books like “Healthy Highways” come in handy. HH is geared toward vegetarians, but really it’s for anyone trying to eat better on the road. Organized by city within each state, it lists natural-food stores, as well as whole-food, organic and ethnic eateries. Each entry has full contact info, plus a highway exit number and driving directions. And you can get updates through the website. It’s a glovebox fixture.

Local Harvest and the Eat Well Guide are web directories that let you search by zip, city or state (or Canadian province) to find stores, farmers’ markets and restaurants serving local, sustainable and organic food, either before you leave or, if you’re traveling wired, on the road. I also check the Edible Communities publication for areas we’ll be visiting. And I’m about to get a smartphone, so I’ll be researching locavore apps soon. If you have one you like, please share.

Eating out

Of course there are times we just want to sit and let someone else do the work. So we check restaurant listings in “Healthy Highways” or the web directories, or ask someone for a recommendation. But if all else fails, we do what road-trippers have done for generations: pick a place that looks good and hope for the best.

How do you eat on the road? Tales to tell? Tips to share?