NY Times on food Aug. 12, 2005

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HI All,

See the two below articles on foods from the NY Times today.

' " perfectly big, " '.

" Olive oil is a true gift of nature, of course, and good for anything on a grill

or

from the garden. But when it comes to cherry pie or fried chicken or French

fries,

excessive reliance on these oils has the potential to clear both arteries and

restaurants " .

August 12, 2005

Perfectly Fat

The reports of a widespread obesity epidemic in America may have helped people

think

more seriously about their eating habits. But perhaps there's also a backlash

against the idea that the food police are out to get you. You can almost hear

the

words - even though the mouth is full: " No one's going to tell me what's good

for

me. " How else to explain the fact that America's candy rack is overflowing with

oversize versions of the candy we knew as kids?

Consider the new Mega M & M's. On its own, an individual M & M - even one that is 55

percent bigger than usual - is not a diet-buster. But rare is the individual who

eats only one M & M. The Masterfoods USA division of Mars, which makes the candy,

had

already supersized it by putting M & M's in king-size, or even huge, packages. You

might argue that the ordinary M & M is a perfectly scalable candy - able to be

packaged in any quantity. So why change its dimensions, except for a bigger

bite?

The senior marketing manager for M & M's prefers to think in terms of sociability:

" Historically, M & M's has always been a sharing brand, used for big gatherings,

and

this is very much in tune with that. "

You have to wonder whether he's ever seen anyone eat M & M's from a shirt pocket

or a

purse. They are the perfect surreptitious candy, the guilty eater's candy, and

this

new size - " perfectly big, " as the ads say - does what every oversize food does.

It

lets you stuff yourself with greater ease.

August 12, 2005

High on the Hog

By CORBY KUMMER

Boston

WHEN the New York City health department asked restaurants to stop serving food

containing trans fats this week, it aroused anxiety in some diners but joyful

anticipation in me. The stage might be set at last for the comeback of the great

misunderstood fat: lard.

Every baker knows that despite lard's heavy reputation (it is pig fat, after

all),

nothing makes a flakier or better-tasting pie crust. Lard also makes the

lightest

and tastiest fried chicken: buttermilk, secret spices and ancient cast-iron

skillets

are all well and good, but the key to fried chicken greatness is lard.

Dainty eaters who pay dearly for prosciutto but leave the ivory-colored ribbon

of

fat on the plate infuriate Italians, who know that's where the flavor and

succulence

are. Italian food lovers now live for the recently revived lardo -

salt-and-pepper-cured fatback, heaven on bread.

In the United States though, lard has long been demonized. Whenever I enter a

bakery

(and I enter every one I find), I ask if anything is made with lard. Even in

Mexican

and Latin American bakeries with Spanish-spoken-only signs, where the bakers

surely

know that in their native countries the most savory empanadas and the airiest

tamales rely on lard, my hopes are usually dashed.

I recently got lucky at the wonderfully antiquated LeJeune's Bakery in

Jeanerette,

La. LeJeune's is famous for its French bread, which in Louisiana means a puffy

white

loaf particularly suited to muffalettas - the Louisiana version of the hero

sandwich

whose bread is soaked with olive salad and layered with provolone and meats like

salami and ham. I wasn't surprised to hear the secret of LeJeune's exceptional

flavor and soft but pliant crumb, but I was delighted: lard. The baker proudly

led

me to a tub of golden lard he had bought from the farm down the road. I was

looking

at a tub of joy.

But when I went deeper into Cajun country, to bakeries down the highway from

LeJeune's, or asked at restaurants where cooks once swore by lard for the

lightest

biscuits and fried catfish, I was met with the same misbegotten pride: " We only

use

vegetable fat, it's so much healthier. "

Vegetable shortening, of course, tastes like greasy nothing. And there is ample

evidence, as the city health department knows, that it is anything but good for

you.

Vegetable shortening (vegetable oil that is partially hydrogenated to make it

solid

- the " trans " in " trans fat " ) did seem like a miracle in the early days of

industrialized food. Indeed, early in my mother's marriage when she spent a

month

making a pie a day to perfect her crust-making skills, she used the fat she grew

up

on: Crisco, developed by industry to mimic the virtues of lard but relieve

housewives of the burden of rendering their own fat. It was useful not just to

kosher-keeping cooks like my mother but to city dwellers, who lived far from a

reliable source of lard (any Italian cook will still tell you that the only

trustworthy lard comes from a pig you know). Crisco could be used solid for

baking,

or melted for frying. It didn't need refrigeration, and it was inexpensive.

Then came the damning conclusions of the first long-range studies of the

national

postwar epidemic of heart disease, and the countrywide fear of saturated fats.

Butter, cream and egg yolks were the first to go, to the heartbreak of cooks

just

learning the glories of French cuisine, and lard soon followed. Besides, lard

seemed

old-fashioned - redolent of poverty and its companion cuisines.

Now trans fats are considered the devil, and vegetable shortening is worse than

butter could ever dream of being. After prodding by nutrition advocates, the

Food

and Drug Administration has taken the stand that there is no healthy level of

trans

fat in the diet, and as of January will require manufacturers to state the

presence

of trans fats on every food label. Now comes the call from Dr. R.

Frieden,

New York's health commissioner, for restaurants to " voluntarily make an oil

change

and remove artificial trans fat from their kitchens. " What are beleaguered

manufacturers and cooks to do? The loss of trans fats makes things tough. It

makes

pastry tough too.

I have a suggestion for those Old World cooks who are wrestling with New World

advice: take another look at the fat profile of lard. It has half the level of

saturated fat of palm kernel oil (about 80 percent saturated fat) or coconut oil

(about 85 percent) and its approximately 40 percent saturated fat is lower than

butter's nearly 60 percent. Today's miracle, olive oil, is much lower in

saturated

fat, as everyone knows, but it does have some: about 13 percent. As for

monounsaturated fat, the current savior, olive oil contains a saintly 74

percent,

yes. But scorned lard contains a very respectable 45 percent monounsaturated fat

-

double butter's paltry 23 or so percent.

As with all dietary advice, the fat of the day will change. But eternal truths

will

remain: food is always best with little or no processing and eaten as close as

possible to where it is grown. This goes for lard, too. The artisan pig farmers

whose fortunes have been revived by a new market for pork with real flavor

should

look into selling lard because the supermarket kind is processed and dismal. And

Dr.

Frieden's request may produce a burgeoning metropolitan market.

The health department is suggesting alternative oils including olive oil and

neutral

oils like peanut, sunflower and cottonseed. Olive oil is a true gift of nature,

of

course, and good for anything on a grill or from the garden. But when it comes

to

cherry pie or fried chicken or French fries, excessive reliance on these oils

has

the potential to clear both arteries and restaurants. Chefs and short-order

cooks

can do everyone a favor - even the guardians of the public health - by reaching

for

the fat that everyone knows tastes the best: lard.

Al Pater, PhD; email: old542000@...

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