Cheap Food, Healthy Food

So, I recently started a new job. It's in a pretty cool location, food-wise, in that it's relatively close to a lot of interesting ethnic food, as well as a few national chains (eg, Noodles & Co). So far, I've availed myself of Thai and Lebanese, and I look forward to trying more. Persian kabob place, you'd better watch out. But the best thing of all?

H Mart!

I was despondent when we left Houston behind. Mostly because of H Mart. But, happily, there are a few in the metro area, including one right next to work. For the uninitiated, it's a fabulous Korean grocery store.

This morning, I bought seaweed salad, sashimi salmon, and marinated tofu slices. H Mart's prepared foods section is seriously awesome.

I am a cheapskate at heart, and their prepared food prices always seem a little pricey for an ethnic grocery store. But then I started thinking about the cost relative to other options. Likewise, tonight at dinner I ate half of a pasture-raised, super-happy chicken that was pricier than I'm used to paying for chicken. As hard as it is, I think it's important to do the math and really think about it.

I'm not even talking about your typical "I read the Omnivore's Dilemma and now I'm a food snob" type arguments. Food is so ridiculously cheap in this country, our nice chicken dinner for two was less than a meal for two at Popeye's (which, don't get me wrong, I adore on occasion as well). My $5 of tofu, $3 of seaweed salad, and $7 of sashimi will keep me healthy and super-happy for at least three days of work lunches, for about the same price and less hassle than the crappiest Subway sandwich I could possibly eat (no, I really *don't* adore Subway).

It just comes down to eating really being about choices, with the exception of people who really don't have as many choices (food deserts, I'm looking at you). I feel like people make poor food choices based on a sense that they're somehow cheaper, and that much of the public discussion of food issues assumes that crappy food, or healthy food that no one wants to eat, is the only cheap food. But if you take a few minutes to think about food, and plan things out, it's almost ridiculous what tasty things you can enjoy.

Calling Marion Nestle

This weekend, Jon made chili, and we had a little party. Chili is his thing, so he made his usual beef, lamb, and bean chili, and an experimental vegetarian version with portobellos, zucchini, and beans. We had a cheese plate (Trader Joe's cranberry-swathed goat cheese is A-mazing), and people brought over tasty appetizers and beer. It was delicious and fun, and something we should do more often.

Sadly, I didn't take any food photos. But while we were grocery shopping beforehand, I found some great blog fodder...

You know that public health vs. processed foods industry debate over food labeling? This is exhibit A in what's wrong with the current rules. Honestly, I don't even know what the current rules are. But any regs that permit labeling this misleading are, I think, categorically immoral.

If you can't read it, the copy says:
"Nutrition Rich Cookies...As much fiber as a bowl of oatmeal...As much calcium and Vitamin D as an 8oz glass of milk...As much Vitamin C as a cup of blueberries"

I'm sure that's all technically true. But let's check out the ingredient list.

Oh, and all the additional misleading comparisons above the ingredient list, too.

In addition to repeating the comparisons from the front, it says:
"As much iron as compared to a cup of cooked spinach"
"As much Vitamin B12 as compared to a cup of cottage cheese with fruit"
"As much Vitamin A as compared to an 8oz glass of tomato juice"
"As much Vitamin E as compared to two cups (16oz) of carrot juice"

Which all creates the illusion, for the less educated about food, that these cookies might actually be good for you. Who knew? indeed.

First ingredient? Sugar. Then flour (not whole). Then a mixed cocktail of vegetable oils, one hydrogenated. Trans fats FTW, y'all. Cocoa. Corn sugar. Polydextrose (which is apparently where those silly fiber numbers come from. Who knew?). Corn flour, then corn syrup. And a few other random things.

Then there's a separate list of added vitamins and minerals below the ingredient list. I mean, I guess that's what it's doing there. I didn't know it was legal to separate out ingredients like that. Kind of creates the illusion that there's something good for you in all this, like separating "active ingredients" out on medicine labels. Bottom line, you won't get a goiter eating these things.

So who makes this crap? I was really hoping for Nabisco. And who knows, there probably is some huge company hiding behind "Suncore Products, LLC". For a company allegedly based in Denver but distributing in the DC area, there's a serious dearth of info online.

Certainly, their own website in an exercise in ridiculousness. Maybe I should start working my way through their recipes starring said cookies?

And I should definitely be happy their FAQ answer to "can I stop eating fruits and vegetables if I eat your cookies?" is a no.

But hey, there's already a law firm on it. "If you or someone you know has been harmed by WhoNu? cookies or a similar product, please contact us to discuss your legal rights." Let me know if you go that route. I'd appreciate the referral bonus.

In Defense of Pi

...the pizzeria, not the number. I suspect 3.14159...can hold its own.

So, Pi is a pizza place in St. Louis that specializes in deep dish. You may recall the kerfuffle back when Obama shanked Chicago in the heart by calling it the best deep dish he'd ever had. Pi is pretty damn good, so we were happy to hear that Pi would be opening a DC outpost around the same time we moved out here.

We ate at Pi DC a few weeks ago. To clarify: I, not a Chicago native, ate there with three Chicago natives. Who love their deep dish. We all found it extremely tasty, though I thought they were still ramping up to full Pi deliciousness as compared to their St. Louis locations. I didn't take any photos, and didn't blog about it. So why now?

One of my fellow dining companions from that night emailed me the WaPo food critic's assessment of Pi DC.

I generally appreciate food critics in the cities we've lived. We've been lucky to have a slew of good ones- Jason Sheehan, before he moved on to Seattle; Katharine Shilcutt in Houston; Ian Froeb in St. Louis. You may note these are all the alt paper critics: somewhere along the way, we discovered they represented our food interests better than the newspaper critics. Perhaps that's my problem with Mr. Sietsema. I'm still trying to figure out the DC food scene, and what perspective everyone brings to the table. But this review just leaves me puzzled.

First, I think there are some unreasonable expectations. We're talking about deep dish born in St. Louis, purporting to be Chicago-style. As anyone familiar with restaurants should know, cuisine is a product of where it's created. Go try some Italian food in St. Louis, for example. No Italian would ever mistake it for their cuisine. Frankly, I'm from America and had trouble recognizing it as Italian food. It's not Italian food; it's St. Louis-style Italian food. Think deep-fried, breaded ravioli ("T-ravs"), pasta cooked to death, thin, sweetish red sauce on everything. It's peculiar, and some of it is disgusting, but you can see clearly the blending of Italian ingredients with Midwestern sensibilities.

Now let's talk about deep dish. I've only had it in Chicago a few times, but it has a few distinctive characteristics. The biggest one, I think, is density. Chicago deep dish is a meal. Eating an entire pie might kill you. They're laden with cheese and meat, and collapse into an oozy, artery-clogging pile on your plate. The crust is crisp, and has a deep-fried appearance that often spits grease as you bite in.

If we're talking "authentic", I'd say the best deep dish in St. Louis is actually from Black Thorn Pub. It's dense, it's oozy, one slice hits you like a load of bricks to the head. Jon had two, and had to go home and pass out afterward.

I guess all this leads up to the big tell: Pi isn't really Chicago-style deep dish. It's *better* than Chicago-style deep dish. If St. Louis didn't already have an eponymous pizza style, this stuff could hold its own. Maybe a better name would be "St. Louis deep dish"?

So what's different about it? It's less dense. It's a drier pie. Less sauce, less cheese, but still more of both than a conventional pizza. It tastes healthier, even if it's probably not. That alone to me means it's not real Chicago-style deep dish. The crust is better, too- it keeps the crispiness, and a light greasy sheen, but it's no longer soaked in the stuff.

So why do these dumb Chicagoans in DC seem to love it if it's not Chicago-style, and if it's allegedly *SO* awful? I have two theories that I think explain it better than delusional "homesickness".

1)The urban professional class (ie, Pi DC's target market) is more concerned about their health, generally speaking, than Midwesterners. Pi's pizza has healthier topping options, and tastes less greasy, than most of what's available in Chicago. Chicago transplants enjoy the nostalgia of deep dish, in a tastier, possibly healthier package, maybe more than they would enjoy the real thing if it were available.

2)Expectations. I've lived in Texas, I know great barbecue. Do I expect to find it in DC? No. Would I be really happy to find good barbecue, even if it's not Luling City? Would I maybe go a little crazy and evangelize about how awesome it is? Um, yeah.

And sure, there's a little homesickness wrapped up in it, too. I can't help but wonder what Minnesota-raised Sietsema's review would look like should a hot dish place open in the District.