Should we be scared of that "Product of China" label on food?

Recently I've noticed that some of the food I've brought home has been stamped "Product of China." First it was (supposed) organic frozen spinach; then, garlic; finally, bay scallops. I probably wouldn't have brought any of it home had I noticed the label in the store because I worry about food grown in China. Why?

• Much of the press before and during the Bejing Olympics discussed how polluted that city and other Chinese cities are.
  
  
• Chinese food and food supplement regulations and inspections are more lax than those of our own government, and more subject to corruption, as the recent scandals on contaminents in human food, pet food and infant formulas have shown.
  
  
• I hate the idea of my food coming all the way from China. It's one thing to buy oolong tea since it's in small quantities, and is dried and easy to ship, but frozen spinach? How much energy did it require to freeze it, ship and truck it frozen from China to Maryland?
  

Looking around today on the Internet to see if my worries could be verified, I easily came upon the article, Grown in China, by Ralph Nader. Although I've often found Nader alarmist and a little hysterical in recent years (I wish he would stop running for president), the article contains some information that is worth noting. He says that the United States imports 80 percent of its seafood and China is its major seafood supplier—and  fish grown in China is often farm-raised, grown in contaminated ponds and fed antibiotics because of the putrid conditions. 

The FDA has issued assurances on its Seafood Safety Program,  in which they have testified that the "FDA currently screens electronically-submitted information on all incoming shipments, and then uses a risk-based approach to target our inspectional resources at products having the greatest potential for causing harm to public health." But Nader says that the FDA is able to inspect only about 1 percent of food shipments into the United States, which is hardly reassuring.

But the worst thing that Nader conveys is the information that: "except for the required labeling of seafood from foreign countries (consumers take note), all other food in your supermarket is not required to have a label of the country that exported it."

So, while I can avoid seafood from China and start buying fruit grown in the U.S. (easy to see since almost every banana, apple, etc., is labeled with place of origin), there's no way of knowing where the chicken in my frozen potstickers was raised. That leaves me with three choices: learn to make potstickers from scratch (very unlikely since I once spent a whole evening—prior to having children—making cabbage-stuffed pierogies), forego them all together or just get used to eating food products from China. 

I'm not happy with any of these choices, yet since potstickers are not a major part of my diet (they're only an occasional/emergency snack-meal for us), I'm not all that worried about eating them. What's more worrisome are the foods that compose most of our meals, the supplements we take, the green tea I drink everyday. What's in them? Where did they come from?

Three tiny ways to save on your grocery bill...and sometimes help the environment

I am not going to pretend that I am the thriftiest shopper in the world. 

Despite my declaration that I wouldn't buy organic grapes again (see July 29 post), I've broken down and bought them a couple of times (on sale). And despite my continued efforts to clip coupons, I almost never manage to use them; a few days ago I cleaned out a whole drawer of coupons that had expired in 2005.

Still, there are a few things I do here and there that help a little. The added benefit is that such measures sometimes have eco-benefits. Here are three of them:

1. I make my own yogurt. A half gallon container of milk makes 2 quarts of yogurt, with a little milk left over. (For instructions on how to make yogurt, see May 11 post).

Cost benefit: A half-gallon of organic milk costs around $3.50, while 2 quarts of organic yogurt costs $7-8. (A gallon of organic milk is currently going for around $6, which offers greater cost advantages).

Eco-benefit: I'm not using or throwing away plastic yogurt containers. I make the yogurt in glass jars I wash again and again. (Making yogurt uses a minimum amount of electricity).

2. I make my own foaming liquid hand soap. "Make" is relative—I don't make soap from scratch, but refill foaming liquid soap containers with water and dish soap. It works fine and most people can't tell the difference.  Here's the recipe:

• 1/4 cup unscented liquid dish soap (I use Seventh Generation Free and Clear)

• 3/4-1 cup of water

• 1 tsp. of glycerin (you can get glycerin in bottles at the drugstore)

• scented oil, if desired (I've been using either lavendar oil or grapefruit oil)

• In the winter, I add a squirt of aloe vera gel, for my chapped hands.

Cost benefit: This is about $.25 soap, $.20 of glycerin and maybe $.10 of oil (at the most), compared to a store-bought container that costs $5-8.

Eco-benefit: You're not throwing away all those soap containers. HOWEVER, the foaming capability of most re-used containers seems to give out after 4-6 uses, so this isn't something I've been able to keep going perpetually; I have to buy new soaps occasionally.

3. I buy some of my household goods and bulk items through a wholesale distributor, Frontier. Some friends and I put our orders in together so that we don't have to pay postage (postage is free is you spend $250 at a time). The downside is that it gets pretty time-consuming for the person who puts the order in and sorts through all the items that are shipped since they are not separated per individual order.

Cost benefit: I just purchased 16 oz. of Frontier bulk Irish breakfast tea for $12.95 vs. ~$3/oz. in the natural foods store; 48 oz. of Seventh Generation dish liquid was $5.05 compared to $7-8.00, retail.

Eco-benefit: There's some slight benefit in that I don't use gas to drive to a natural foods store for the specific things I can order through the coop.

In praise of boneless, skinless chicken

Boneless, skinless chicken has saved me many a night from having to serve frozen pizza or "freezer-surprise leftovers" for dinner.

I buy them in multi-packs and freeze them. Often is the evening that I've realized,  too late,  I've planned nothing for dinner. Into a bowl of lukewarm water the plastic-wrapped double breast goes (sometimes I'm running so late, I don't bother to dunk it in its defrosting bath). Then, if still frozen, I can cut them sideways into one-inch thick slices and, if there's time, lay them on a plate to defrost a little more.

Even when frozen, they can be sautéed in a pan if cut into smaller chunks.

I generally use the directions for "Sautéed Boneless, Skinless Chicken Breasts (Basic Recipe)"  from the All New Joy of Cooking (p. 587 in my edition). The great thing about this recipe is that it can be adapted wildly.  I've used their basic recipe and then added sherried mushroom sauce (recipe on the cookbook's next page); I've added broccoli and made pasta with broccoli and chicken in a white/cheese sauce; I've added broccoli and ginger and made stir fry.  Even simpler, the sautéed breasts can be served with a squeeze of lemon and a dash of garlic powder over white rice, with a salad on the side.

The other beauty of this recipe is that after the chicken pieces are sautéed, I can set one or two aside for PE and put the rest into a sauce for everyone else.

I also buy boneless, skinless chicken thighs, which are cheaper, and keep them on hand. They're a little darker and meatier, and do better in more stew-like recipes.

Sometimes I miss chicken skin and the good juices that come with it. So, every three or four weeks, I'll make an effort to buy a whole chicken or I'll defrost a cut-up chicken a couple of days in advance in the refrigerator. With that little bit of planning ahead, a whole chicken is faster to prepare than skinless breasts since usually the only preparation required is salting the outside, rubbing it with butter, and sprinkling it with dried herbs before popping it in the oven.

I'm glad that there's a choice (skin or no-skin). Thinking back to my grandmother's day, when preparing a chicken began in the afternoon—chopping off its head, plucking the feathers, and stewing a tough bird a long time—I try to remember to appreciate how easy it is to cook chicken (or almost anything else) now.

Another thing to worry about: canned food

I used to avoid canned food because of the lead in the soldering of the seams. But then the FDA finally spoke out against lead soldering and U.S. manufacturers quit using it, so I thought there were no more worries. After all, people have been eating canned food for decades.

Along comes a dispatch to my Inbox yesterday from National Geographic's Green Guide (Kick the BPA Can), which discusses the hazards of Bisphenol A (BPA), the hormone-disrupting chemical that is used to line cans in most commercial food.  The article states that Eden foods is the only manufacturer that they know of that absolutely doesn't use BPA in its cans. 

I went to the health food store today and happened to run into the marketing representative for Eden, who stopped to speak to me when he saw that I had Eden Soy Extra in my cart. I asked him about BPA and he said that Eden avoids using plastic in any of its products. The manufacturer of its cans uses a vegetable-based compound in the interior instead of plastic.

What makes me angriest about all this (besides the fact that I just bought a whole case of non-Eden canned cannellini beans from a food warehouse) is that manufacturers keep using chemicals and products that are harmful until there is enough noise from consumers (and/or the government, usually prompted by consumers or other outside entities) that they have to withdraw it or make it a new way. How many more food products and packaging chemicals are out there that someone already knows is harmful, but which hasn't been withdrawn yet because not enough people know about it or are angry enough about it yet?