In this week’s edition, Jackie envisions the apocalypse — with German metal music! We also learn a little Yiddish, break down the etymology of authenticity and pack our falafel recipe with herbs.
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For my master’s thesis, I created a piece of theater [see photos below] about apocalyptic predictions. There was dancing! And jokes! And hard-to-follow structural choices! And Rammstein! What I learned while researching that piece was that basically every generation across every civilization has believed that the apocalypse was right around the corner. The fact that not one of them was correct is a balm to my soul in these trying times.
The basic plot of the play (and calling it a plot is generous) was that a group of post-apocalyptic anthropologists find scraps of recordings from a long-lost technology called “television”. They use those recordings to piece together the moments right before the collapse of an ancient civilization, and reconstruct a portrait of their ancestors - their joy and determination but also their absurdities, excess, and willful ignorance.
Joy and determination and ignorance and excess seem to be at war with each other in our own chaotic times.The IPCC gives us a decade to turn things around, and while we’re failing miserably thus far, I have hope. Or rather, I am acting from a place of hope.
But, is apocalypse now? At the rate it’s going, climate change is going to make the earth a miserable place for humans. That’s not an apocalyptic prophecy from a cult leader or a medieval wizard. That’s the widely accepted, data-backed projection that science has been pointing to for the last 50 years. We’re already getting a peek at the new normal, and it’s no fun at all. Just ask a koala bear.
Scientific projections on how climate change will impact the planet have been incredibly accurate thus far, with models showing life getting exponentially harder for humans in the coming years. Personally, I am more apt to trust 97 percent of scientists than the prophet hen of Leeds.
Still, in the face of all this bleakness, I feel a duty to my descendants to stay active, engaged, and yes, hopeful. I don’t want anthropologists from the future to look back on us and say “Geez! All these crazy storms and water shortages and resource wars sure make life hard for us now!! Too bad those dodos couldn’t get their heads out of their asses!” Instead, I hope they’ll see ancestors who, in the face of seemingly insurmountable challenges, rose to the occasion and with grit, innovation, and love, built a better world.
[BONUS CONTENT: Photos from Jackie’s This Is A Reconstruction by Mayday Theater]
love,
Jackie
We’re not just being dramatic when we say that it might be the end of the world if you don’t forward this newsletter to a friend!!! 😜
EDIBLE JARGON
Lig in der erd un bak beygl (A Yiddish curse)
Yiddish has to have some of the best curses of any language. I (Matt) remember in high school teaching friends “Gay kaken ofn yahm!” which literally means “Go shit in the ocean.” (More mildly in English, it’s probably the equivalent of “go jump in the lake.” But that’s not as fun.)
A new article on the mafia taking on Jewish bagel baking unions in the middle of the 20th Century taught me “Lig in der erd un bak beygl” (it’s pronounced how it looks). That literally means “lay in the ground to hell and bake bagels” or more metaphorically “Go to hell and bake bagels.”
Why? Working in Manhattan’s bakeries was no cake walk.
They were miserable places to work, located in the basements of apartment houses and other large buildings with coal-fired furnaces that could be converted into ovens. Ambient temperatures in those rooms reached 120 degrees, with bakers frequently stripping down to their underwear, even in the dead of winter, while furiously sidestepping infestations of roaches and rats.
Fresh links
💯What Does ‘Authenticity” in Food Mean Now? | Eater
The food word “authenticity” took off about a decade ago. The craving for so-called authentic food emerged as backlash to “fusion” meals. That was another word that started out with good intentions. Food is all about experimenting, so fusion made sense at first. But soon emerged “cynical ploys like sushi burritos and chocolate hummus. Critics began to point out that anyone (and usually it was white chefs) could spin the wheel and call it innovation, no matter how unoriginal or disinteresting the fusion meal actually was.” Thus, fusion faded and authentic cuisine became the new goal.
Authenticity experienced a similar problem in the early 2000s. What people considered authentic on Yelp! reviews were again shaped by white viewpoints. The stereotype of non-European “authentic food” would be a mythical hole-in-the-wall — cheap and lowbrow. Aesthetics mattered more than anything else. Even movies like last year’s fun Netflix rom-com “Always Be My Maybe” starring Ali Wong as a hot-shot fusion chef falls into that trap of claiming Asian food isn’t supposed to be “elevated” if it’s to be "authentic.”
Food and authenticity — like gender and race and money — are social constructs that in the U.S. are formed by white assumptions. With the term authenticity falling out of favor for all the above stated issues, Jaya Saxena asks what does “authenticity” mean now? And who gets to define it?
Chicago-based chef Dale Talde has one answer. He describes his own food as “diaspora cooking” and “inauthentically Asian” — “a subtle ‘fuck you’ to those who’d say his menus are not really Filipino. But make no mistake, he is making authentic food — it’s just authentic to a different kind of experience, one of a kid born in Chicago to a Filipino family, and who wants to represent the entirety of his background and influences.”
♽Inconspicuous Consumption: The Environmental Impact You Don’t Know You Have | Climate One
The first part of this excellent episode of the Climate One podcast features a fascinating interview with Tatiana Schlossberg, former New York Times science reporter and author of Inconspicuous Consumption: The Environmental Impact You Don’t Know You Have. In her book, Schlossberg explores the often hidden environmental toll of the internet and tech, clothing, agriculture, and fuel. Ever consider how much water goes into making a pair of jeans? Or what fuels the infrastructure behind video streaming? She maps out the carbon footprints of each of these industries, and explains what could be done on a corporate (and government) level to reduce their environmental impact.
While the facts are alarming (I’ve definitely been much more conscious of mindlessly browsing the web since listening), she points out that individual action can only get us so far. “I don't think we should feel individually guilty necessarily for our consumption,” Schlossberg says, “but we should feel collectively responsible for fixing the systems and building a better world.”
I (Jackie) found the interview so engaging that I went to the library the very next day and checked out a copy of the book. I’m enjoying it so far, and I’ll be sure to report on it when I’m through.
🐙The Octopus from Outer Space | SeattleMet.com
And now for something a little bit different! I (Matt) love octopuses (not to eat)*. Every couple years a writer who also shares this love of those slimy cephalopods dives into what makes these creatures one of the most fascinating beings on earth. Though, as this article notes, they might as well be aliens.
They have “nine brains—one in the head and one in each of its eight limbs.”The arms act so independently that they “have been known to steal food from each other.” Octopuses can squeeze through spaces no matter how small as long as their beaks can fit, the one “bony” part of their body. In aquariums they have a knack for escaping in shockingly innovative ways, like by creating distractions that give them a chance to break free.
Read this examination of the under-appreciated octopus for all other cool scoops that make the sea beast a personal favorite of mine ❤️. Pop culture too has gone on its own journey about octopuses as they’ve gone from fearsome Kraken-like beasts meant to be conquered to uber-smart extraterrestrials (like Kang and Kodos on “The Simpsons” or the invaders who communicate with ink blots from the excellent 2016 film “Arrival”). One scientist in this essay even studies octopuses because “If alien life does exist out there in the cosmos, he argues, it behooves us to understand alternative modes of intelligence like that of octopuses.”
*Jackie, on the other hand, thinks any tales of octopuses should come with a Caution ⚠️: Will Cause Nightmares.
Herb-Packed Falafel
Back when I lived in London and also stayed up past 10 p.m. — before I’d board the long night bus back to my flat — I ended many a night out at the kebab shop. Nothing is more satisfying than a warm pita filled with hummus and falafel and pickles, dripping in yogurt and tahini and hot sauce. Especially at three in the morning. When feeling a little bit tipsy. After having just burnt a jillion calories on the dance floor. Don’t you want some falafel right now? Well pitter patter.
Ingredients
2 cups dry chickpeas
1 cup fresh herbs (parsley, cilantro, garlic chives, scallions, mint)
1/4 of an onion
A few garlic cloves
1/4 cup chickpea flour (all-purpose flour also does the trick)
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground coriander
Freshly ground pepper
Neutral oil for frying
Step-by-step
Soak chickpeas overnight in triple the amount of water (six-ish cups). Drain and rinse before use.
In a food processor, blend herbs, onion, and garlic until minced. Add remaining ingredients besides the oil and process until everything is well-combined into a rough paste.
Line a baking sheet with parchment. Smoosh and roll the mixture into ping pong-sized balls to form the falafel. Place on parchment and freeze for at last 30 minutes, or until ready to fry.
On medium-high heat, fill a small saucepan with at least three inches of oil. A smaller surface area means less oil.*** Be patient and let it heat up sufficiently. When dropping the falafel in the oil, it should immediately begin to sizzle. Fry falafel in batches (don’t overcrowd the oil) until golden brown.
Serve with whatever delicious fixins your heart desires!
***I save and reuse frying oil 2-3 times. After use, let it cool down. Strain it through a cloth-lined sieve to remove any fried bits. Store in an airtight container in the pantry until frying again. I discard once the oil gets too dark or too smelly.
I’ve got the munchies for a heaping POT of marinara made with the dried HERB oregano. That would be DOPE.
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Sunshine + Microbes team
Jackie Vitale is the current Chef-in-Residence at the Robert Rauschenberg Foundation and co-founder of the Florida Ferment Fest. Her newsletter explores the intersection of food, culture, environment and community.
Matt Levin is a freelance reporter based in Colombia. He edits Sunshine + Microbes and contributes other scraps to each issue.