Thursday, December 8, 2011

Preserving food and the family

One of the things I admire most about my Pawpaw is that he knows how to can and preserve foods. Perhaps it seems silly to admire someone for that, but how many people do you know under the age of 60 that know how to do that? Can you? If you can, teach me! Ever since I can remember, I have eaten bread and butter pickles, fig preserves, strawberry jam and preserves, canned pears, mayhaw and quince jelly, and all of it handmade and canned by my Pawpaw. He has an extensive and flourishing personal garden where he harvests beans, cucumbers, and squash, as well as a few fruit trees from which he gets the fruit to make jellies and preserves.
            I love to watch him make pickles. He slices the cucumbers into fat chips and soaks them on one side of the sink before he cans them. I know that he takes many more steps than that to make the pickles, but I do not know all of them. From what I can tell, it is not a quick process; I imagine if it were, I would stand still long enough to watch and learn the whole process. But I do know of the outcome, sweet and vinegar-y pickles that are a perfect match for a grilled cheese sandwich on a chilly day.
            In the church cookbook printed last year, many of my family’s canning and preserving recipes were included. I am a few states removed from my hometown, and I always hesitate to try one of my favorite recipes, because I’m not sure if the end result will be the same as when my Pawpaw makes it. There is something about Pawpaw’s house and the vegetables and fruits that come from his garden that he grew that add to the taste. It might ruin my taste for canned goods and preserves altogether if I mess up something he can make so well. So I am hoping I will get the chance to learn from him how to can and preserve things; I would hate for those family recipes to disappear because no one knows how to do it! Perhaps that will be my New Year’s resolution—I am going to learn to can!

Christmas Candy

Although I am not very fond of the holidays, I do love getting the opportunity and the excuse to make Christmas candy. My younger sister showed me how to make Oreo Truffles a few years ago, and ever since I have made them for friends and family as Christmas gifts because I am a broke college kid. Oreo Truffles are one of the easiest candies to make, and they always look elegant and seem as though you put a lot of time and effort in to making them, so you will get lots of compliments for spending less than $10 for ingredients and having fun getting you hands dirty.
Oreo Truffles
1 (16 oz) package of Oreo cookies
1 (8 oz) package of cream cheese, softened
2 (8 oz) packages of semi-sweet chocolate chips
Crush a few of the cookies into fine crumbs and set aside. Crush all of the remaining cookies to fine crumbs with your bare hands by the sweat of your brow (put the cookies in a plastic baggie, please, the crumbs will stick to the bottom of your feet later if you spill them on the floor!). Place your crushed essence d’Oreo in a bowl and add the softened cream cheese—if you want to taste some of the cream cheese, like me (I love cream cheese), it’s ok, nibble it! You’re making the candy, you have a right to test the products and make sure it’s safe for everyone else to eat! Mix the crushed cookies and the cream cheese together until they are blended—you’re going to have to crank your elbow a little, work those cookies into that cheese! Then roll the cookie mixture into as many balls as you can, about an inch in diameter. I always make the perfect balls when I listen to my favorite song; something about singing and dancing in the kitchen while I make this candy allows me to roll the perfect ball between my palms. Now comes the messy part—melt one package of the chocolate chips in a microwave-safe bowl, and get a spoon. BEWARE! The bowl and the melted chocolate will be HOT when it comes out of the microwave (I figured I should warn you because I always burn my fingers, even though I’ve done this a hundred times). Drop a ball into the melted chocolate, one by one, and roll the ball around with the spoon to cover it in chocolate, then spoon it out and set it on a cookie sheet covered in wax paper. This takes concentration—I always focus the best with my tongue stuck out between my lips (family trait). When all the balls are covered in chocolate, sprinkle the tops with the crushed cookies you set aside earlier. Then put the tray in the refrigerator and let the candy chill for about an hour. You’ll have between 30 and 40 Oreo Truffles soon!

"Vegaphobia"

As I researched for my Women’s Studies final project, I discovered an article that discussed something called “vegaphobia.” Matthew Cole and Karen Morgan’s article “Vegaphobia: derogatory discourses of veganism and the reproduction of specieism in UK national newspapers” discussed the negative ways in which vegans and veganism is portrayed in English newspapers and the implications of that negative perception. Cole and Morgan first define veganism as the “opposition to violent and exploitative human-nonhuman relations,” or in other words, rejection of the exploitative and harmful use of animals and animal products by people (135). They then connect animal cruelty—what veganism rallies against—to “specieism…a form of prejudice against nonhuman animals” (135). Cole and Morgan assert that specieism is akin to racism and sexism in that it discriminates against and takes advantage of a group (nonhuman animals in this case). The connection between vegaphobia and specieism is made by Cole and Morgan’s thesis: “Just as anti-feminist discourse perpetuates and legitimates patriarchal social relations, so, we argue, does anti-vegan discourse perpetuate and legitimate specieist social relations” (135).
            Cole and Morgan argue that “veganism is understood by most vegans…as an aspect of anti-specieist practice,” so when veganism is vilified or marginalized, specieism is reinforced (135). The authors discuss the way veganism is institutionalized as deviance when discourses constantly reaffirm stereotypes and when “the dominant practices of meat-eating are used to set the discursive parameters” of society’s perceptions (136). Cole and Morgan defined negative articles relating to veganism as “those which deployed one or more derogatory discourses, usually featuring one, or a combination, from a routinized set of anti-vegan stereotypes” such as “ridiculing veganism; characterizing veganism as asceticism; describing veganism as difficult or impossible to sustain; describing veganism as a fad; characterizing vegans as oversensitive; and characterizing vegans as hostile” (139); these negative discourses of veganism ultimately reduce vegans and veganism to a marginal, trivial status, and negate the importance of the lifestyle/diet and its anti-animal cruelty basis, which perpetuates specieism, or violence and discrimination against nonhuman animals. Cole and Morgan point out that in all the newspaper discourses they researched, “the absence of animal rights philosophy as a basis for veganism [was] a consistent theme,” thus allowing the negative discourse of ridiculing veganism to occur (140). If veganism appears “self-evidently ridiculous” and petty, the importance of the lifestyle choice is lost, trivialized, and not taken seriously. Characterizing veganism as asceticism, or extreme self-denial or abstinence from food, “clears veganism of any associations with pleasurable eating experiences,” thus the notion that vegan food is tasteless and disgusting perpetuates. Which, by the way, is totally untrue—vegan food products have come a long way since they were first produced, and are now just as tasty as “regular-people food.” There’s a reason why the last two winners of Cupcake Wars have been vegan bakers with their vegan cupcakes….
            Other negative discourses of veganism Cole and Morgan discovered were the practices of describing veganism as impossible to sustain, or as a fad. Describing veganism as impossible to sustain, they argue, “reassures omnivorous readers that veganism is doomed to failure, and that they should not feel guilty for not attempting it,” therefore vegan food and diet is made “other” (143). ‘The food is so hard to find, or too difficult to make, anyway, so why bother trying to eat vegan?’ To describe veganism as a fad, as a temporary occurrence, is to discredit veganism and vegans as hypocritical. ‘It is only a matter of time before vegans can no longer resist eating meat, and if they do eat meat after vehemently speaking out against meat, then that makes vegans hypocrites; at least I’m not a hypocrite, I say I like meat and I eat meat.’ Cole and Morgan associate the trivialization of veganism by attributing it to faddism with women in that “faddism is frequently associated with women’s subculture as a trivialization strategy” (144). The authors also associate women with the characterization of vegans as oversensitive; here sexism is combined with sentiment, making the argument that women are more inclined to empathize and feel compassionately towards animals because of a “shared experience of (patriarchal) oppression” (145). The “gendered stereotypes of women as ‘over-emotional’ or irrational” is connected to vegans perceived as “sentimental ‘animal lover[s]’ unable to cope with the harsh realities of nature,” thus again trivializing vegans and veganism (145).
            Cole and Morgan conclude that negative discourses of vegans and veganism serve to not only marginalize or trivialize it, but to allow meat-eaters to “avoid confronting the ethics of exploiting, imprisoning, and killing” animals, as well as to allow the negative discourses to normalize the exploitation of animals (149). As a whole, I agree with Cole and Morgan’s conclusions about the negative discourses’ affect on the perception of vegans and veganism, however I think the argument that characterizing it as impossible to sustain may have some weaknesses. I know my own experience trying to go vegan was confusing, frustrating, and ultimately unsuccessful. I felt as though I did not know enough to even begin, and I found it difficult to find foods I could eat. Every time I read a label, I would see some ingredient that was an animal by-product, or one that might be an animal by-product. It seems as though if you are not intimately familiar with all the forms of animal products, then you are not adequately equipped to choose the right foods and make the best choices that align with one’s anti-animal cruelty/exploitation beliefs. I was always in fear that I would make a mistake in feeling confident I had a product that had caused no harm to an animal or that had no animal products in it, but what if I was just unaware of it? Perhaps it is not correct to characterize veganism as impossible to sustain, but those who say it is difficult to sustain may have a point.
Works Cited
Cole, Matthew and  Karen Morgan. “Vegaphobic: derogatory discourses of veganism and the reproduction of specieism in UK national newspapers.” The British Journal of Sociology 62:1 (2011): 134-153. PsycINFO. Web. 5 Dec 2011.