Can eco-cocoas melt away holiday stress?Photo: Jason HoustonLet’s just say for the sake of argument, that you’re a little busy this time of year. (This is the part where you snort, as if to say, “You have no idea, sister.”) Also, let’s say that it’s cold outside where you live. (Is the pope an old German guy?) Lastly, let’s assume that, because you’re reading this on an environmental news site, you have green inclinations.

This all leads me to conclude that what you need at this very moment is a steaming cup of hot cocoa that is not only quick but also environmentally principled. (I.E., not made by the handful of corporations known as “Big Chocolate” that buy cacao from heavily sprayed plantations and pay farmers poverty wages or, worse yet, use child labor. )

For you, my frozen, frantic reader, I bullied my friends assembled a panel of tasters, one of whom brought a light-up holiday animal that resembled an electrified Westie (see photo). I supplied the organic cocoa mixes, a can of whipped cream for the kids, and an array of kitschy mugs. (Note: The kids, much to their disappointment, were left out of this tasting. I thought it best to avoid full-blown pancreatic shut-down during the holidays.)

Please note: Most of these products were powdered mixes (just add water, milk or your “favorite non-dairy alternative”), but in one case we tried a quickie beverage made from chocolate “discs.” The mixes were largely certified organic as well. They were also, comparatively speaking, pricey. You can get a honkin’ 50-pack box (50 ounces) of Swiss Miss hot coca mix for $12.49 at Staples. (Of course, why the hell you’d want to buy any “food” at Staples is beyond me.) I paid substantially more in general for the eco hot chocolate drinks — in one case I ponied up $13.95 for 3.5 ounces (go ahead, exhale that breath you just sucked in) for the discs.

How did they taste? Read on.
Our results:
 
Green & Black’s organic hot chocolate drink
Ingredients: Organic raw cane sugar, organic fat-reduced cocoa powder, organic dark chocolate powder (organic chocolate liquor, organic raw cane sugar, organic cocoa butter, soy lecithin, (emulsifier), organic vanilla extract).
Price: $4.29 (on sale), for 5.3 ounces
Special notes: Sports the USDA organic seal. Directions call for hot milk rather than hot water, which you’d think would make your beverage somehow better.
 
Who knew hot cocoa mix could taste tannic? This mix made our tasters pucker.  “That’s not right,” quipped one taster who sported a festive holiday sweater. She then reached for the whipped cream. Strangest comment: “Kind of vegetal.” Most passionate comment:  “What the hell are people thinking?” Kindest comment: “It’s not that bad,” said one taster, who, it should be disclosed, was jet-lagged to the point of stupor because he had just returned from an international trip wherein he ate cicada thoraxes and chicken feet, and whose opinion no one trusted.
 
Dagoba organic drinking chocolate
Ingredients: Organic cane sugar, organic coca, organic  chocolate, organic milk (less than 0.1%)
Price: $6.99 for 12 ounces
Special notes: Certified organic and fair trade certified. The directions for this mix included this line: “When the vapors of the milk rise the milk will be at its most receptive to accept the chocolate into its embrace.” Sorta sexy, in this way! This, um, sexyness, might be due to the fact that Dagoba’s eccentric founder, Frederick Schilling,  according to an inside source is “way hot.” Then again, Dagoba was bought by Hershey’s (see Big Chocolate, above.)
 
Again, tasters were freaked out by the smell: In this case, “like the inside of a tire.” Though the panel thought this drink was creamier than the others, some found it to have a bitter aftertaste.  The bug-eater thought it had a “more of a darker chocolate flavor.” To be fair though, this mix may have been more chocolatey because the directions called for four tablespoons of the stuff per your “favorite mug.”  (As opposed to the more common two-tablespoon-per-favorite-mug directive.)
 
Full Circle Organic Milk Chocolate Flavor Hot Cocoa Mix
Ingredients: Organic dehydrated can juice solids, organic whey, organic non-fat dry milk, organic cocoa (processed with alkalai), sea salt, calcium carbonate, natural vanilla flavor, xanthan gum (a natural vegetable product).
Price: $3.49 for 10 1-ounce packets
Special notes: Certified organic. This is my conventional grocery store’s bargain brand of organic products. Slogan: “Return to a natural way of living.”
 
For those prone of nostalgia, this is the most Swiss-Missy of the cocoa mixes–or, as one taster put it, it’s “the cocoa of my youth.” Like all of the add-water mixes, its texture is depressingly thin. Overall, tasters found it to be “synthetic” and “overly sweet.” Strangest comment: “It tastes like Playdoh!” Most damning: “You can get way better stuff at the ski lodge.” Ouch.
 
Equal Exchange Organic and Fairly Traded Hot Cocoa
Ingredients: Fair trade certified organic evaporated sugar cane juice, organic nonfat dry milk powder, fair trade certified organic cocoa-processed with alkali, organic guar gum, sea salt, organic carob bean gum, organic vanilla powder (organic vanilla extract, organic maltodextrin, organic gum Arabic).
Price: $9.29 for 12 ounces
Special notes: Equal Exchange is a worker-owned Fair Trade organization; this mix is certified organic and fair-trade certified. Container is made from recycled cardboard.
 
Q: “What’s that terrible smell?”
A: “I dunno, something weird.”
 
All in all, this product was slightly more chocolatey than the others, but also “cardboardy.” Most disaffected comment. “It has an underlying whatever.”
                           
Pierce Brothers Hot Cocoa
Price: $7.99 for 8 ounces
Ingredients: Organic evaporated cane juice, organic nonfat dry milk, fair trade certified organic cocoa, salt, natural flavor, guar gum.
Special notes: Fair trade and certified organic. Directions warn that “due to all natural organic ingredients, some setting (sic) may occur.”
 
The entire panel winced at the smell of this cocoa, which one taster said was “like ammonia.” The adjective “burned” was used most often to describe its flavor, as in “burned milk” and “burned rubber.” This un-chocolately mix actually made the tasters angry. “Who decided that this was okay?” demanded festive holiday sweater lady.  “I can’t understand how anyone would bring this to market,” scowled another taster. (Hey you kids, get off of my lawn!)
 
Ah!Laska Certified Organic Cocoa Chocolatey Chocolate Mix
Ingredients: Organic cane sugar, organic non-fat milk, organic cocoa powder (non-alkaline), organic rice syrup solids, xanthan gum (a natural thickener), carrageenan (a natural seaweed extract emulsifier), maltodextrin, organic vanilla powder.
Price: $7.99 for 12 ounces
Special notes: Certified organic. Cartoon mascot: AH! Bear.
 
Tasting results. “It’s got that smell again,” someone wailed.  Overall, the panel thought this mix was watery and without chocolate flavor.  One found it “vaguely soap-like.” The grub-eater, who evidently was taking a hatecation,  said it was “not offensive.”
 
Patric Fine Hot Chocolate Disks
Ingredients: cocoa beans, cocoa powder
Price: $13.95, for 3. 5 ounces (!)
Special notes: This product is hot chocolate, not hot cocoa. We’re talking solid form here, not powder. As you might have guessed from the price, this is super-duper premium micro-batch, bean-to-bar artisinal stuff. And although it doesn’t tout its organic ingredients, its cacao from Madagascar is certified organic. (Even though organic chocolate is no tastier than conventional, according to Patric’s founder). Note also that there is no sugar in this stuff — you are trusted to add your own “to taste.” Further, the directions call for you to use an actual whisk and to serve this beverage in “small tea cups.” I’m not sure what happens if you add mini marshmallows — I think someone rings your doorbell and slaps your face with leather gloves. In other words, this is not a hot beverage for the kiddies to swill.
 
“No comparison!” hooted one taster. Another said, “This is the only one I’d drink regularly.” In general this non-mix, which was added to milk, yielded very rich, very creamy results. Once the giddy gratitude died down a bit, the descriptions started to sound like wine-speak: “It’s got legs!” and “lots of complexity.” Then someone mentioned the price tag. The group got quiet and a glum as we collectively realized that we had just fallen in love above our social rank. Not even the Christmas Westie could cheer us.
 
Photo: Jason HoustonThe bottom line: I know it’s blustery out there and you’re busy (okay, really freakin’ busy), but if you buy hot chocolate from a mix, we can’t be friends. It’s that simple. Can you get something quick and delicious and principled? You can. It’s the Patric chocolate discs, but they’re priced like contraband and you’ll have  to have sell plasma to support your habit. Therefore, I’m going to give you an option to avoid other mixes that have that smell:  Get some cocoa powder (fair trade and organic if you’re flush) and sugar from the pantry and mix them in equal parts (say, one heaper of each per mug) in a glass measuring cup. Add a dash of vanilla. Next, add a little water and whisk it all into a syrupy liquid. Then whisk this into a pan of simmering whole milk. (For love of any god you choose, don’t use skim. Please. It’s the holidays.) Pour the result into your favorite mug (yes, it must be your favorite mug — anything less will screw this up royally). Next, bring on the whipped cream. Then, once you’re infused with warm-fellow feeling, and if you have two cents leftover, send a donation to the world-saving organization of your choice.

Butter up! Six organic, creamy nut butters were put to the test for mouthfeel, flavor, and overall satisfaction.Photo: Stacey Potter

Does anyone else long for the days when rat droppings were the scariest thing about peanut butter? Anyone? Show of hands?

Let’s see. The problems with peanut butter now include:

• Really scary chemicals, including neurotoxins (as if we need something else getting on our nerves).
• Deadly salmonella outbreaks.
• The mysterious rise of very serious peanut allergies.
• A peanut butter aisle so big that it makes you want to curl into a ball and rock back and forth — right there in the store — from stimulation overload. (Omega-3 peanut butter … really?)
• Rat feces, still.
• The Frankenut-butter threat. Although there are no genetically modified peanuts on the market right now, according to the National Peanut Board website, money is being poured into genomic research. (Note to peanut growers: Consider inserting the genes of a Labradoodle. As far as I can tell, no one is allergic to them.) But seriously, on the upside genetically modified peanuts could save lives.

OK, peanut allergies aside, some of the contemporary problems with peanut butter can be avoided by buying organic peanut butter. Of course, this begs some questions: Do any of these organic spreads taste good? And do you have to break the bank for a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich?

And while we’re at it, is the “Skippy Factor” real? A while back, when I wrote about turkey, I spoke with Cooks Illustrated senior editor Lisa McManus. She described the Skippy Factor this way: Tasters often favor foods that are comfortingly familiar, such as Skippy peanut butter, over something higher quality. (This also explains why Cooks, which I read regularly, is so shockingly successful. For these food science geeks, taste trumps all. They don’t really give a rip about health-consciousness or greenness or food trends.)

So, back to the point: Do organic peanut butters taste good? My brave panel of tasters aimed to find out, by sampling six organic creamy peanut butters that were readily available at my local grocery stores.

Our results, from worst to best:

Who let these veggie dogs out?Photo: Lou Bendricks

Q: What’s better on a hot sticky evening than firing up the ol’ grill, grabbing a cold beer and throwing on some dogs?

A: Firing up the ol’ grill, grabbing a cold beer, and throwing on something more environmentally friendly and way less gross than hot dogs.

Sorry to turn the heat up when it’s already hot out there, but cheap, conventional wieners are the poster pups for factory farming and its associated environmental and moral ills.

Though soy and processed, faux-meat products have their own sets of problems (soy is a heavily sprayed, often genetically modified mono-crop, and eating too much of it may cause some serious side effects), they really can’t compete with the nastiness of hot dogs.¹

Need persuading? “Hot dogs contain every imaginable part of an abused pig,” Lindsay Rajt told me. Rajt, a campaign manager for PETA listed some of those parts for me: lips, anus, intestines, spleen, and snout. “And they’re chock full of fat and cholesterol,” she added.

OK, enough. Well, almost. Full disclosure: This cranky columnist recently became a vegetarian. Long story short: I saw the movie Peaceable Kingdom, which was followed by a period of teary soul-searching. The result is that little Miss Grass-Fed-Is-Best is now pretty much eating the grass itself.

But faced with a supermarket fridge full o’ veggie dogs, I wondered about taste, the driving force behind so many of our food choices. Do vegetarians have to trade that smoky, juicy hot-dog flavor from our childhood ballgames for rubbery ersatz wieners?

To find out, I convened a panel to conduct a blind taste of five popular meatless dogs fresh off the grill. Our results follow.

Sizzling notPhoto courtesy yelahneb via FlickrTofu Pups

Price: $3.99 for 12 oz

Ingredients: Water, soy protein isolate, soy oil, organic spray dried tofu (organic de-hulled soybeans, calcium sulfate), contains 2 percent or less natural flavors (from vegetable sources), beet powder, yeast extract², sunflower oil, natural smoke flavor, salt, paprika, oleoresin. vegetable gums, tomato pulp.

Disclaimers: Package states that “We do not use soybeans that were produced using biotechnology.” Also certified vegan.

Tasting notes: Tasters said that these “orange-yellow putty”- colored “carrot dogs” smelled “plasticky” and like “burned chemicals.” Texture-wise, they were soft “squishy.” In terms of flavor, tasters were left wanting: “Truly horrid” and “bland/flavorless.” Defining comment: “If that’s not tofu, I don’t know what is.”

Rank: 5

Yves The Good Dog

Price: $3.39 for 12 oz

Ingredients: Water, isolated soy protein³, vital wheat gluten, canola oil, spices, hydrolyzed corn protein, salt, natural flavors (contains autolyzed yeast², modified vegetable gum, dextrose, dehydrated onion & garlic, vitamins & minerals (thiamin hydrochloride, cyanocobalamin, calcium panthothenate, ferric orthophosphate, iron oxide, zinc oxide, dimagnesium phosphate, dipotassium phosphate), carrageenan.

Disclaimers: Package copy says these are “Great for Grilling, Add your own veggies.” (Which, when you think about it, is sort of a confusing directive.) Yves also makes meatless hot dogs, tofu hot dogs, and jumbo hot dogs; these “Good” dog versions are new and improved and, according to the website, “taste more like a real meat hot dog.”

Tasting notes: These clearly lost the beauty contest. Tasters described them as “shriveled,” “longitudinally wrinkled,” and as having formed “ridges.” On the aroma front, they smelled “mild” and “like some sort of broth.” As for texture, tasters noted the thick and chewy “skin” while one found it “a bit rubbery — as if poured into a mold.” As for taste, results were middling: “Not great, but not bad,” said one eater and “vaguely hot doggy,” said another. Summarizing comment: “Cover this with enough mustard and ketchup and you might be able to eat one.”

Rank: 3

Smart Dogs

Price: $3.99 for 12 oz

Ingredients: Water, soy protein isolate, wheat gluten, evaporated cane juice, less than 2 percent of natural flavor (from vegetable sources), natural smoke flavor, garlic powder, paprika oleoresin (color and flavor), yeast extract², xanthan gum, guar gum, carrageenan, fermented rice flour, salt, potassium chloride.

Disclaimers: These are made by the same folks who make the Tofu Pups. Hence, package also notes: “We do not use soybeans that were produced using biotechnology.” Certified vegan.

Tasting notes: On looks alone, tasters found this wiener to be like a not-so-hot blind date. “Not bad,” said one taster, while another got downright weird in describing the “off-puttingly smooth interior.” One taster described its color in not-so-politically correct terms: “Crayola flesh-toned.” Smell-wise, the panel said these dogs ranged from “normal” to “chemical” to smelling vaguely like “wood smoke.” After a few bites, the panel agreed that these were soft and chewy dogs with a “slightly slippery” interior. On the flavor front, comments were diverse, ranging from “actually unpleasant” to “bland” to “like fake charcoal.”

Rank: 4

Tofurky Franks

Price: $3.39 per 8 oz

Ingredients: Water, vital wheat gluten, organic tofu (water, organic soybeans, magnesium chloride, calcium chloride), expeller-pressed non-hexane-extracted isolated soy protein, expeller-pressed canola oil, spices, sea salt, onion powder, evaporated cane juice, pepper, natural vegetarian flavors, natural smoke flavor, granulated garlic, xanthan gum, konjac flour, carrageenan, wheat starch, natural caramel color, and annatto.

Disclaimers: Packages states that these are “outdoor grill approved.” (By whom? Is there some sort of Federal Consumer Grilling Approval Agency? Maybe it’s part of the sprawling national security state …) Vegan.

Tasting notes: While one taster described her dog as “phallic and bulging,” a male panelist merely chose to see this dog as “misshapen.” There was some excitement after the sniff test: “hot doggy!” enthused one taster, while another said kind of “sweet” and another smelled “burned barbeque sauce.” After nibbling, the comments were kind,
in their own way: Although deemed “not like a hot dog” by one taster, another said it “dared to be tasty in a veggie way.” Actual praise: “Much stronger flavor — distinctive, and I like it!”

Rank: 2

Worthington Veggie Links

Price $6.24 (not including shipping) per 1 pound, 3 oz can of 10 smallish links. (I bought these on Amazon.com, which is wrong in so many ways, but I couldn’t find them in my metro area.)

Ingredients: Water, egg whites, textured vegetable protein (soy protein isolate, wheat gluten, water for hydration), soybean oil, corn syrup solids, salt. Contains 2 percent or less of oat flour, corn starch, guar gum, yeast extract², sodium alginate, spices, disodium inosinate, natural smoke flavor, paprika, caramel color, sugar, dextrose, garlic powder, natural flavors from non-meat sources, carrageenan, disodium guanylate, hydrolyzed soy protein, spice extractives, vitamins and minerals (niacinamide, iron [ferrous sulfate], vitamin  B1 [thiamin mononitrate], vitamin B6 [pyridoxine hydrochloride], vitamin B2 [riboflavin], vitamin B12 [cyanocobalamin], wheat fiber, red #3 for color, nonfat dry milk. Broth: Water, salt, hydrolyzed soy protein, natural smoke flavor, caramel color, red #3 for color.

Disclaimers: Non-vegan. Also, Worthington is owned by Kellogg. (I’m just saying.) Worth noting that these dogs, like some conventional dogs, contain corn syrup.

Tasting notes: These “most natural” and “meaty” looking dogs did look like real hot dogs. “Truly meant to fool,” said one lady. The panelists all agreed that these links smelled like actual hot dogs as well. In terms of texture they were benign: “Non-offensive” and “soft but not squishy” and “most meat-like.” Flavor-wise, one taster said they were like “Slim Jims” and another found them to be vaguely sweet (see corn syrup solids, above). Summary: “No offensive plastic-chemical taste, but also takes no risks.”

Rank: 1

Bottom Line

With enough ketchup, kraut, relish, and veggie chili, any of these dogs could probably be choked down if judged on taste alone. In our naked taste, the Worthington Veja-Links won, mainly because they failed to offend, followed very closely by the Tofurky Franks, which were garnered more passionate comments, both pro and con. My advice is to experiment with other brands.

According to Rajt, “A lot of the meat analogs have come a long way.” She likes Tofurky Brats; I plan to try their meatless Kielbasa.

Lastly, if you want to avoid lots of processed ingredients, packaging, and long-haul shipping, you can make your own veggie dogs. While you’re at it, why not use organic tofu? Or maybe portobello mushrooms, which are surprisingly meaty when grilled. Is it just me who’s always been irritated by the crap constructed to mimic meat, when vegetarians could just eat vegetables? Is Michael Pollan turning over in his grave right now? Oh wait. He’s alive! Probably because he doesn’t eat hot dogs — conventional or analog.

¹I’m also aware that there are other heath issues associated with conventional hot dogs such as the carcinogenic burned meat problem, the nitrate cancer link, the Listeria threat to pregnant women, and the theory that eating too many hot dogs may effect your mental health, but for the sake of word-count and the I’m-not-a-doctor liability thing, I can’t go there. Consult your doctor; eat at your own risk.

²“Yeast extract” and “autolyzed yeast” are flavor enhancers that contain the same glutamic acid found in MSG, and so may be problematic for people with MSG sensitivities.

³The folks from the parent company of this dog, Hain Celestial Group did not return my phone calls/emails about certain confusing ingredients. According the ever-reliable Wikipedia, this is a highly refined soy protein that tastes like nothing and is less likely to make you fart.

(Jason Houston photos)

When a certain Grist editor who shall remain nameless, suggested I do an organic rosé tasting, I was eager to comply. The weather has been getting warmer, and I had fond memories of a hiking trip in southern France that involved a familial decision to consume crisp, refreshing rosés in lieu of sports drinks. Plus, after my recent organic milk tasting (which generated lots of hate mail in shouty ALL CAPS), a wine tasting sounded as light and fun as pink wine itself.

But there are more serious, compelling reasons to drink organic wines: conventional grapes may be blasted with an unholy trinity of pesticides, herbicides, and fungicides that are readily soaked up through their thin skins. Imported grapes make the Environmental Working Group’s “Dirty Dozen List.” A 2008 Pesticide Action Network study on European wines showed that pesticide residues do indeed turn up in wines. (Whether or not these levels will harm consumers remains much debated. I suppose that depends in part on how much of a wino oenophile you are. Then there’s the matter of the farmworkers who have to handle the chemicals, for the less selfish among you.)

Rosés have an unfairly bad rap. Wine reform advocate Alice Feiring told me by email, “There have always been excellent rosés, but there has been a lot of plonk, and the category suffered and suffers still because people associate pink with white-zinfandel sweet crap. Recently the EU tried to really dumb down the category by allowing a blending of white and red to make rosé. That idea went over like a leaden dumpling. But winemakers have always made some for themselves — refreshing, food friendly. Hell, even Long Island makes credible rosé.”

To find out if pink-and-green rosés taste good, I served a thirsty tasting panel an assortment of pink wine before and during a dinner of CSA-fresh vegetables and grilled dayboat fish. I purposely put together a panel of wine amateurs, which may be a positive new trend in wine circles. Let’s face it, nothing ruins a cocktail hour faster than a wine bore.

Our non-expert results follow:

La Fraghe Ro Don Bardolino Chiaretto Rose 2009
Price: $13.99
Grapes used: Corvina and Rondinella

Green ethos: How hard could it be to swing by the wine store and pick up a few environmentally principled bottles of pink vino? Harder than you’d think. As it turns out, I can’t easily buy wine from out of state online, so I turned to my neighborhood wine seller to get some for me. One particularly sweet guy, Andy, assured me that this wine was organic or sustainable in some way, even if there were no bragging rights on the label because small growers often skip expensive certifications. But I knew that was not going to fly for you, dear crankypants readers. Despite copious Web research, a dozen phone calls to importers, reps, and wine makers (sent in Italian via Google translator – “please I would most be liking to your wines about ask you”), neither I nor the now-quite-apologetic Andy could get any solid information verifying this wine’s alleged green vibe. But waste is wrong in an environmentally precarious world, and this wine needed to be drunk, so we drank it, savoring the mystique about its alleged green past.

Tasting notes: Tasters noted that the color of this wine was “very pale” and “blushier” than the others. Its nose was deemed “delicate” and “more like a rose than fruit.” One taster got “papaya” at first sip, which made a another taster sarcastically predict that “someone is going to get passion fruit.” (Nobody did.) Overall, the tasters were at odds to whether this wine’s delicacy was a good thing: one taster deemed the wine to be “girly,” while another enthused that it was a “hot afternoon wine . . . a drinkin’ wine! The PBR of rosés!”

Rank: #3

Francois Cotat Sancerre Chavignol Rosé 2008
Price: $33.99 (so much for the rosé’s cheap-wine reputation)
Grapes used: Gamay, Pinot Noir

Green ethos: 100% organic domaine; vines are tended and harvested by hand. Wine is made using traditional techniques – this is a natural wine (“Natural” actually means something substantive in the wine world, unlike the food world; as to what it means, read Tom Philpott’s nerdy screed on the topic.) 

Tasting notes: Dark peach in color. Scent comments: “syrupy” and “like late summer fruit” and “peach syrup.” First sip had tasters abuzz: “tart!” and another tasted parsley. This rosé was definitely more robust than the others. Tasters described its “strong flavor” and super-full” mouth-feel, which one taster described as “thick.”  No one disagreed that this wine was the most complex.  In the end, though, the tasters decided that it was actually  “too heavy for a rosé” and as having a quality that “stays with you — not a happy thing.” On the other hand, it was noted by more than one taster that this was the best rosé to pair with food. Most interestingly, this wine launched a conversation about the true nature of rosés and their sole purpose, which one taster argued was to “ride’em hard and put them away wet.” Additional note: This wine may have in fact been a victim of the “Skippy Effect,” a phrase I learned from a Cooks Illustrated editor who explained to me that tasters might have a preference for certain foods, even crappy ones, based on nostalgia. Hence, in the face of an organic artisan nut butter, a taster prefers the ersatz, Cristco-y taste of Skippy. (Or, here, a more effete, more industrial pink wine over an artisanal one.) It’s also worth noting that Alice Feiring (see below) told me that she thought that this wine was “quite good.”

Rank: #4

Bonterra Vineyards Mendocino County Rose 2008
Price: $12.99
Grapes used: Sangiovese, Zinfandel, and Grenache

Green ethos: Vineyards have been organic since 1987. Bonterra’s organic philosophy is to “let nothing come between the vines and land upon which they grow. Everything in balance.”

Tasting notes: The color of this wine made tasters downright giddy. Several tasters chanted “Pink, pink!” while a detractor noted that it was actually “kinda salmony or orangey-pink.” The sniff test revealed berry and strawberry notes, while two other tasters thought its nose was floral. One taster thought he smelled strawberries, but then confessed that he may have picked “a pink fruit by association.” At first sip, someone tasted citrus, while another noted a “nice tart finish … on the edge of being acidic but not quite. Balanced.” Another happy taster who didn’t want to employ the sip n’ spit method quipped, “I need nothing to balance anything, just give me a straw!”

Rank: #2 

Domaine Begude Pinot Rosé 2008
Price: $14.99
Grapes used: Pinot Noir

Green ethos: Governing philosophy in the vineyard is “to promote a healthy, sustainable environment, giving us grapes of the very highest natural quality.” Hence, this vineyard fertilizes with organic sheep/cow manure; weeds mechanically rather than chemically; encourages the growth of green manures. Biodynamic approaches include paying careful attention to the lunar calendar, especially at planting, pruning, and harvest.

Tasting notes: Colorwise, this wine was a little more salmon-hued than the others (or darker gray, according to a colorblind taster). The nose was complex, with “tarty fruits” (you know, those louche fruits that dress skimpily and hang out at the corner bar). Overall, sippers were delighted with this rosé, and one lady declared that it “makes me wanna get my drink on!” Another taster thought he detected the taste of salami — and explained that this was a good thing, because it was “delicious and meaty.” Other praise included “smooth” and “pretty dry” with “real complexity.” Comment that perhaps hinted of a substance-abuse problem: “I would drink this nonstop all day!” The biggest compliment came when I tried to take this wine away from a taster who snatched the glass from my hands and slurped up the remaining mouthful.

Rank: #1

Saint Andre de Figuiere Cotes de Provence Rosé 2009
Price: $13
Grapes used: Cinsault, Syrah, Cabernet, Grenache

Green ethos: Again, I was very excited when yet another wine buyer (John) told me that he’d procured a cheap organic rosé for me. But once the bottle was in hand, he’d learned that Saint André de Figuière estate wines come from land that has been farmed organically for more than a quarter century, but that this particular rosé is from the company’s more affordable signature series, which sources wines from nearby “neighborhood vineyards.”  Ever hopeful that these neighborhood wines were somehow also sustainably cultivated, I made several attempts to contact growers, importers, and reps. Result: N’est-ce pas que personne ne me rappeller! (Go ahead, run that through your Google translator and see just how good my French is). I kept it in the tasting because … well, because my Grist editor told me to, wanting me to get smacked around like I did with last month’s milk-off.

Tasting notes: This “very pale” and orangey rosé fulfilled earlier predictions at first sniff — “There’s the passion fruit!” Another said its bouquet was comprised of “tropical flowers.” Once swished across the palette, though, this wine disappointed. One lady wistfully noted that it was “like white wine.” Another gargled it and said that there was “something syrupy going on” while someone else countered with “something chemical.” Strangest comments: two tasters said they tasted parsley. Most ambiguous comment: “Tippy-toe light.”

Rank: #5

The bottom line

This panel was a little like Goldilocks: This rosé is toooooo light, this rosé is toooooo strong . . . and this rosé is just right! Happily, the Domaine Begude that came out on top is both affordable and biodynamically produced.

A few tips before you go on your own rosé hunt: Read labels and learn the difference between an organic wine and one simply made with organically grown grapes, but recognize that you might have to do a legwork to find out if your wine is truly sustainable. Make calls, ask around, use the web and learn a second language. Also, know that finding a good rosé might take a little extra work.

Lastly, if you’re going to do your own tasting, serve food, have fun, drink responsibly and heed the following tips.

Okay, that wasn’t lastly. A note on packaging: I couldn’t find any rosés made with local grapes, thus my Yeti-like carbon footprint. I also couldn’t find any in Tetrapak. All the bottles from this tasting were glass and promptly recycled. (Except in many states, like Massachusetts, wine bottles are exempt from so-called Bottle Bills.) For more info on the carbon footprint of wine, and how to shrink yours, read a real expert on the topic.

Full Circle’s ultra-pasteurized offering, versus small-farm Blue Hill’s raw milk: Which mooved tasters the most?(Photos by Jason Houston)

Putting aside for a moment the dietary arguments against drinking cow’s milk — we’re not calves, it’s liquid meat, it’s snot-producing, so hard to digest, etc. — conventional milk deserves vilification for many reasons. Conventional dairy’s ethically repulsive and planet-reaming process involves more or less torturing cows to lactate year-round; pumping their ailing, grain-fed bodies with hormones and antibiotics right up until they become hamburger; butchering their anemic offspring for scallopine and pet food; and, last but not least, polluting our own water supplies with both their excrement and agricultural runoff. Oh, wait. That wasn’t last. I forgot to mention that conventional milk is trucked hither and yon. But don’t take my word for any of this; here’s yet more information on the malevolent liquid that complements a slice of chocolate cake so nicely.

One way that milk lovers can sidestep these issues, at least in part, is to buy more sustainable forms of milk: certified (or in-spirit) organic and/or local. But if taste is the guide, as is so often is the case, is one of these morally better milks more delicious than the other? Or are they all just white, taste-neutral beverages?

I assembled a panel of tasters to sample six greener whole milks. Why whole, full-fat milk? Because I think it tastes better than low-fat and I’m the decider. That’s why. And before you ask, Horizon milk — the organic brand owned by Dean Foods that has the biggest market share by far — is conspicuously absent from this tasting because it isn’t sold in my local stores and didn’t want to burn tons of fossil fuel searching for it.

Notes: The more time the cow spends on pasture, the more likely the flavor of the cow’s milk is to change with the seasons. The milk we tasted last week might, at least in some cases, taste very different at other times of year. “Ultra pasteurized” refers to milk that has been heated at higher temperatures for longer, and has a shelf life of two to three months, and is alas often employed for organic milk, which is often shipped farther and is more expensive — and thus slower-selling — than conventional milk.

And now, the results …

The contenders

Organic Valley Organic whole milk
Price: $4.99 per half gallon
Eco upside: Organic Valley is a farmer-owned cooperative. For this Massachusetts panel, that meant we drank a regional milk from New England pastures, one that’s USDA Certified Organic. Organic Valley says its cows are “raised humanely and given certified organic feed — never any animal by-products — and our pastures are certified organic.” On the downside: Although regional, the milk is still could be** trucked a fair distance and, not having visited the farms, who the heck knows how happy the cows are? Certified Organic mandates access to pasture, not actual time spent on it.
Feedback: Tasters were all over the map on this ultra-pasteurized milk, which was pure white. Comments ranged from “funky tasting” to “smooth and buttery.” Someone said it tasted like “raw milk,” with a grassy, moldy flavor. Overall, tasters liked the texture, which was described as “totally thick” and as having “legs that stick to the glass.” Overall rating: “Pretty good.”

Jersey dairy cows at High Lawn Farm, in MassachusettsHigh Lawn Farm whole milk
Price: $2.99 per half gallon
Eco upside: This local milk comes from a herd of pretty happy-seeming Jersey cows* from a charming, medium-sized dairy 12 miles from my house. This milk is not certified organic but  the cows “feed off fresh grass in the summer months, and almost all of their winter feed comes straight from our corn and hay fields,” according to High Lawn’s website. The farm doesn’t use genetically modified seeds, harmful pesticides, or feed with animal byproducts or artificial hormones. Downside: The website also says that the farm purchases grains from agribiz villain Cargill to augment the corn and alfalfa it grows for both silage and hay.
Feedback: Eww. That’s what got blurted out at first sniff. After sipping, tasters were a little less sour on this all-white milk, but still deemed it “a little synthetic and boring.” “Nothing interesting,” said one taster, dismissively pushing his glass away. “The milk of my childhood,” yawned another.

Full Circle organic whole milk
Price: $3.49 per half gallon
Eco upside: This is my local supermarket chain’s in-store, cost-conscious brand, which is USDA Organic. Downside: Where did the milk come from? How far was it shipped? Were these cows really content or merely greenwashed milk machines? I just don’t know.
Feedback: The panel got a bit drunk on this white milk, swooning with comments about the “clover in its nose” and its “earthy, creamy” and “sweet” texture. “I like this one a lot,” said one, while another said it was akin to drinking “light cream.” “This one deserves a cookie,” said one lady, who reached for a Newman-O (adding “I’m gonna get me some palm oil”).

The Organic Cow organic whole milk
Price: $3.79 per half gallon
Eco upside: This USDA Organic regional milk is sourced from “nearly 100 New England family farms.” Downside: New England is a fairly big region, so who knows how far the milk was trucked. The Organic Cow website offers, via the Fun Facts For Kids page, the bovine bit of trivia that a group of 12 or more cows is called a flink. Shockingly, the site does not offer the requisite meet-the-farmer-via-cheery-photo montage. However, the carton itself features a profile of a Vermont farmer — who appears to be a helluva nice guy — taking a relaxed-looking cow for a leisurely walk. Most important, the cow was wearing a bell. And as you know, you can never get too much cowbell.
Feedback: Swirling and sniffing like a wine enthusiast, one taster noted this ultra-pasteurized milk’s “nice grassy nose.” Its flavor, though, left panelists wanting. “We’re back to processed flavor,” sighed one man. “Super-homogenized!” said another. Texture-wise, a kinder taster allowed for “some creaminess,” whereas another found it to be “mouth-coating.”

Blue Hill Farm whole milk
Price: $4 per half gallon (paid in cash at the farm, no records for the gummint to find)
Eco upside: This local, unpasteurized (aka “raw”) milk comes from a picturesque farm owned by chef Dan Barber’s Blue Hill restaurant and situated a few miles from my house. Disclosure: The farmer is a friend of mine. The flink — 15 to be precise — of Dutch and Normande Belted ladies hang out on the rolling green pastures in the sunshine doing that swishy-tail thing. Downside: There’s a lot of controversy around the health and safety of raw milk. Advocates say the un-pasteurized stuff is healthier for cows, people and the earth; the FDA and even many greens say it’s a health hazard that could cause dangerous foodborne illnesses. Grist’s take is somewhat in the middle, and the Ethicurean has a detailed analysis of both the health and illness claims.
Feedback: Unlike the other “milky” white milks, Blue Hill’s was yellowish, like eggnog with a darker yellow ring. “Smells like a barn,” said one taster suspiciously. After tasting, someone hooted, “I love raw milk!”, while another gagged, saying “It tastes like I’m licking a cow’s ass.” Yet a third closed his eyes, sipped deeply, and confirmed cognitive dissonance theory: “It’s like silage, but I could acquire this taste.” The queasy taster, meanwhile, had pushed her chair away from the table and was eyeing her glass as if it were full of spiders. “I’m not putting that in my mouth again,” she wailed, to which another taster testily countered, “This is the only milk my kids will drink.” The wailer then crossed her arms while one of her “friends” snickered and made lewd milking gestures into her glass. Taste summary: “Very grassy.”

Stonyfield organic whole milk
Price: $4.49 per gallon
Eco upside: USDA Organic — but Stonyfield is a Big Organic operation, which means that its impacts, both good and bad, are magnified. The company gives 10 percent of its profits to green efforts. Downside: Stonyfield’s milk may have been sourced from far away**, even abroad, and who knows, despite the warm-and-fuzzy farmer profiles on its website, the cows could be lined up like cordwood at some huge, insensitive operation. The site does offer farm webcams, at least one of which showed cows that were indoors, not frolicking in the sunshine.
Feedback: This milk also earned mixed comments. The raw-milk lovers sipped it with a mix of Anna Wintour-ish disdain and disaffection: “It’s a basic milk,” someone sighed. Meanwhile, the raw-milk hater sniffled that it was “pure comfort — happy, cool, and sterile.” Most offered neutral comments “It makes me think of those little cartons,” and “a lunchroom milk.”

The bottom line

On taste alone, Full Circle’s ultra-pasteurized, in-store brand won this tasting, a result that will surely make the raw milk terroirists irate. Advice for dairy drinkers: No matter what you do, bag conventional milk. If you can, find a local dairy farmer you trust and let taste be your guide. And if you must reach for Big Organic, learn more about your potentially greenwashed beverage by checking out the Cornocopia Institute’s dairy report and scorecard. Lastly, consider drinking from the milk of human kindness and cutting back on animal foodstuffs altogether. But when it comes to dunking cookies, I think that’s easier said than done. 

*Bovine factoid: Jersey cows‘ milk is not only naturally high in butterfat but also, according to High Lawn’s web authors, the rather smallish cows themselves possess the “most beautiful, doe-like face of the entire bovine kingdom.”

** May 26 update: After this article was published, we received a cranky email from Stonyfield, stating (among other things) that Stonyfield milk, like Organic Valley’s, is “sourced from the 1,652-member CROPP Cooperative, the nation’s leading organic dairy cooperative.”

Everyone’s a critic: one of our panelists gropes for a sniff of biscuit.Photo: Jason Houston

I’ve got a bone to pick with conventional dog biscuits. Like commercial dog food, they are made with un-green or even potentially dangerous ingredients. Surely, they’re unworthy of a companion who greets your return from the mailbox with nothing less than rapture.

But are the spendy, natural and/or organic versions worth the price of reducing Rover’s carbon pawprint? Will your dog eat them, or even prefer them to cheap, commercial Milk-Bones?

Our esteemed critics are ready for their treats. Photo: Jason HoustonTo find out, I grabbed some Milk Bones (for comparison purposes) and higher-quality (even organic!) biscuits to test whether dogs prefer one over the other. Then I assembled a canine tasting panel. For scientific purposes, I went for a range of dogs across age groups and breeds. My four-legged panel includes:

• Burn: a ten-year-old, painfully sentient, ball-obsessed Border Collie.
• Lulu: a two-year-old cartoonishly cute Cockapoo with a high-pitched bark that could sever one’s auditory nerves.
• Sugar Ray: a beanbag-shaped, geriatric Pug with a seriously deviated septum.
• Austin: a handsome seven-year-old Australian Shepherd with glacial eyes.

The plan was to give each dog a choice: Milk Bone or fancy biscuit?

I also managed to talk the dog’s adult owner-companions into joining in the taste-test. Don’t wrinkle your nose — the “eco” biscuits in this taste-off were of higher quality than most of the stuff found in school cafeterias. Personally speaking, I’ve eaten many dog biscuits on a dare during my childhood, which explains why I have great teeth and a glossy coat.

Our mixed panel of beasts — canine and hominoid — found:

Wagatha’s Super Berry Biscuit

Ingredients: Whole millet flour, dark rye flour, barley flour, oat flour, canola oil, whole eggs, brown rice flour, flax seed, quinoa, sunflower seeds, apples, cranberries, carrots, blueberries, apple cider vinegar, alfalfa, rosemary, allspice, ginger, calendula.

Price: $7.99 for 9 ounces

These small classically bone-shaped, USDA certified 100 percent organic treats from Vermont are pretty much vegetarian, though not vegan. Lulu clearly preferred this treat over the Milk Bone and Austin, the Aussie, consumed it with little chewing. Sugar Ray backed away from the bowl and observed the biscuits from a safe distance. Burn, perhaps searching for her tennis ball, left the room. The humans thought these treats smelled like “berries and bacon” and “tea.” Taste-wise, the humans were pleasantly surprised. “I’ve had things at the health food store that taste like this!” Another taster thought he detected “sundried tomato.” Wrong!

Newman’s Own Organics Salmon & Sweet Potato dog treat

Ingredients: Barley flour*, ground salmon, sweet potatoes*, carrots*, apples*, chicken fat (preserved naturally with mixed tocopherols and lecithin), rolled oats, rosemary extract. (*certified organic)

Price: $4.29 for 10 ounces

Okay, so a few ingredients here are organic and that’s cool, but what’s up with the conventional salmon? I know that Newman’s Own Organics is trying to do the right thing, but surely they know about environmental hazards of farm-raised salmon. The dogs were not impressed with the cutesy heart shape, or, surprisingly, the fishy smell. The Pug could not be enticed even when the biscuit was waved in front of what passed for his nose. Only the Aussie was game (he pulled both bones, the Newman’s and the Milk Bone control, out the dog dishes and gobbled them). Most of the hominid tasters meanwhile were repulsed. Two ran to the sink to flush their mouths. “It’s like the cardboard the fish was stored in!” said one taster. “It gets worse with saliva,” said another. But one taster chomped approvingly and said, “I like salmon!” (It should be noted that, while in Africa, said taster once drank goat’s blood directly from the animal’s neck.)

Mr. Barky’s Vegetarian Dog Biscuits

Ingredients: Wheat flour, whole oat groats, whole ground brown rice, whole ground yellow corn, whole barley, soy flour, sunflower oil (preserved with mixed tocopherols), calcium ascorbate (source of vitamin C), yucca schidigera extract, vitamin E supplement, vitamin A acetate, vitamin D2 supplement (calciferol), D-pantothenic acid, niacin, pyridoxine hydrochloride (vitamin B6), riboflavin supplement, thiamine mononitrate, vitamin B12 supplement, biotin, zinc amino acid chelate, calcium amino acid chelate, copper amino acid chelate, iron amino acid chelate, cobalt amino acid chelate, sodium selenite.

Price: $5.99 for 21 ounces

We all know that dogs aren’t vegetarian. What I think is going on with these biscuits is that, by avoiding potentially creepy animal ingredients, owner-companions can assuage their own guilt. Although vegetarian is the greenest way to go for the planet, a veggie bikkie may leave your dog pining for the backyard squirrels. Sugar Ray took an unenthusiastic whiff at this multivitamin-posing-as-snack and hit the ground. Lulu seemed unable to smell it at all. (She wagged her stumpy tail and circled the bowls suspiciously.) True to form, Austin ate it while the Milk Bone was still in his mouth. The human tasters were unenthused, comparing these bix to “straight-up cardboard,” and “Zwieback teething biscuits” and, most damningly, “like Ryvita!”

Harmony Farms Health Bars with Apples & Yogurt

Ingredients: Oat flour, pearl barley, rye flour, oatmeal, dried egg, apples, blueberries, yogurt, oat fiber, chicken liver, flaxseed, salt, calcium carbonate, dicalcium phosphate, chicken fat (preserved with natural mixed tocopherols), carrots, cinnamon.

Price: $4.29 for 18 ounces

Health bars … really? With non-organic chicken liver and fat? And WTF are “natural mixed tocopherols”? At this point in the tasting the Burn started looking despondent and went on a hunger strike. The clearly well-fed Pug lay down again, either out of boredom or because of aching joints. Lulu sniffed, snubbed and cocked her cute little head as if to say, “I do not understand your silly species.” Austin, on the other hand, sniffed at the Milk bone and then clearly chose the Harmony Farms bar. The humans, meanwhile, were ready to serve these with tea. “Almost cookie-like!” enthused one, while another concurred “like an unsweetened graham cracker.” One mother’s comment: “This is like something I’d make for the kids, but without the rendered chicken fat!”

Organix Organic Dog Cookies, organic peanut butter flavor

Ingredients: Organic chicken, organic peas, organic brown rice, organic oats, organic barley, organic chicken fat naturally preserves with mixed tocopherols (form of vitamin E) natural chicken liver flavor, organic natural peanut butter flavor, organic flaxseed, rosemary extract.

Price: $5.69 for 12 ounces

Right off the bat I wondered, why peanut butter flavor and not actual peanut butter? I mean, how freakin’ hard is it to put peanut butter in the batter? The dogs must have wondered this, too. Austin was the only dog who ate this biscuit. Lulu pranced away, Sugar Ray seemed close to death, and if Burn had opposable thumbs she — convinced that she was being subjected to this because she had done something truly horrible — would have committed seppuku. At this point we offered her a choice of all of the biscuits, and she rolled her Jesus-like eyes to the ceiling (Forgive them father, they know not what to eat). The bipeds, meanwhile, agreed on the extremely crunchy texture but deemed this cookie “not peanut buttery” and tasting like “dog food smells.” Zinger: “It tastes like something you’d have at a Super Bowl party in the suburbs.”

Milk Bone Medium Dog Biscuits for Dogs 20-50 pounds

Ingredients: Wheat flour, wheat bran, meat and bone meal, milk, wheat germ, beef fat (preserved with tocopherols), salt, dicalcium phosphate, natural flavor, calcium carbonate, brewers dried yeast, malted barley flour, sodium metabisulfite (used as a preservative), vitamins & minerals (choline chloride, zinc sulfate, vitamin E supplement, D-calcium pantothenate, vitamin A supplement, copper sulfate, ethylenediamine dihydriodide, riboflavin supplement, vitamin B12 supplement, vitamin D3 supplement).

Price: $3.49 for 26 ounces

With the exception of Austin, all of the dogs snubbed these iconic treats. A few human tasters patently refused to put them in their mouths. Those brave enough to try this courtesy-of-the-rendering plant treat were rewarded not with fresh breath, but with something “salty and chickeny” and “like wet fur” and most strangely, “like a taste bomb–an exploding harpoon.”

The Bottom line

Let’s be honest here: Canine taste-tests are for purely for entertainment. Dogs’ taste preferences range from super-fussy to so undiscriminating that they will eat road kill, litter box contents (“Almond Roca”) or even their own feces. That said, the winner of this particular taste test was Wagatha’s, based on the fact that two out four dogs ate them. The humans, meanwhile, seemed to actually enjoy the Harmony Health Bars and the Wagatha’s. (And really, aren’t many of the choices we humans make for our dogs about us, not them? Hence those humiliating dog pajamas, breath spray, canopy-style dog beds, Halloween costumes-need I go on?) The bottom line is that owner-companions should carefully read ingredients, avoid the potentially scary and environmentally bad stuff (the generic meats, animal byproducts, digest and meals that are the consequences of factory farming, HFCS, artificial dyes, preservatives and cheapo grain fillers like corn and rice), and make a choice based on your dog’s fussiness level. Also, consult your vet about your dog’s specific needs.

Lastly (you regular readers know what’s coming) … if you want to save money and avoid stepping into a big ole pile of carbon caused by shipping and packaging story-bought dog snacks, follow Umbra’s advice and bake your own treat. 

Photos: Jason Houston

To say that I love coffee is a big, fat lie. I need coffee in a chemically dependent way. Its effect upon me is essentially the reverse of those faces-of-meth photos.

There are two things that can really screw up a good coffee buzz (OK, three if you count skim milk). First is the fact that conventionally grown coffee is an environmental bummer. To quote Umbra Fisk, “Conventional coffee production involves chemicals, deforestation, and mistreated workers and dead birds.”

So to avoid songbird blood on your hands first thing in the morning, buy coffee with organic, fair trade, and shade-grown certifications. (Super-extra bonus points for triple-cert!) You’ll pay a premium for this coffee, but it’s worth it.

But just because a coffee is principled doesn’t mean it tastes heavenly. The second thing that can ruin a good cup of coffee? Bad taste. I don’t know about you, but bad coffee makes me feel like this. In order to spare you such an experience (AHHAIAHH! So many coffees! Why is there no good coffee? I want good coffee!), I assembled a panel of four other coffee lovers and headed to my neighborhood roaster, Barrington Coffee. There, founders Barth Anderson and Gregg Charbonneau hosted — but, in the interests of strict neutrality, did not participate in — my tasting in their chic “cupping room.” 

This blind tasting provided a “sensorial analysis” of five organic French roasts. Under Gregg and Barth’s careful tutelage, we evaluated the dry grounds for appearance and aroma. Then, after hot water was poured over each, we waited two minutes and then noted an aromatic impression at “crust break” — you break up surface grounds with spoon and sniff “dangerously close.” Next, Gregg skimmed the floating grounds, and we tasted by aspirating a spoonful over the palate: a procedure that allows grownups to make the very fun, loud slurping sound we’re always telling our kids to stop making. Lastly, we let the coffee cool down and tasted it again. (More slurping.)

And now, the results …

Full Circle French Roast
Price: $7.49 per pound
Eco cred: USDA Organic and Fair Trade certified. A portion of every sale is donated to Coffee Kids.
Feedback: Despite the slogan for Price Chopper’s in-store brand of French roast — “Deep, Dark, A Perfect Ending” –  this joe was described as “mellow” by one taster and “thin” by a few. One said it was like “truck stop coffee that’s been sitting for an hour.” (Had this taster, who was stylishly dressed and sporting pearl earrings, ever been to a truck stop? We’ll never know.) One comment could be have been construed as both praise or criticism: “It’s like Starbucks.” Kindest comment: “I could almost drink this without cream.”

Jim’s Organic Coffee French Roast
Price: $11.95 per pound, purchased in bulk
Eco cred: Certified Organic by Quality Assurance International.
Feedback: The Web marketing copy describes this coffee as “Big, full flavor with slightly carbonized taste.” OK, I know “carbonized” means scorched, but the Internet also defines it as a “Swedish avant garde death metal band.” I like “Swedish death metal band taste” much better!

One taster particularly liked the chocolaty smell of this coffee, which he also described as “winy.” Unfortunately, no one liked the taste. “It’s sweet but not a good sweet” scowled one lady, while another noted its “synthetic flavor.” If you like your French roasts real smoky, this coffee might be the one for you. One taster, struggling for words, sipped and mused, “If you take a flip-flop and put it in the fire … ” The damning comments continued: “Reminds me of robusta!” — straight to a coffee snob’s heart. And, even worse: “Like instant.”

Newman’s Own Organics French Roast
Price: $7.99 for 10 oz
Eco cred: This coffee is sourced and roasted by Green Mountain Coffee, a Vermont roaster with a corporate ethic that includes fighting climate change, which is good because some coffee growers are going to get hosed by it. It is also USDA & QAI Organic and Fair Trade certified; while it’s not certified bird friendly, it “typically is grown under a shade canopy,” emailed a spokesperson.
Feedback: It seems wrong to speak critically of the dead, especially when the late Mr. Newman has given $250 million to charities worldwide. But technically, only the dead’s coffee got dissed badly. The kindest comment for this java — billed as “a dignified dark roast with a passionate French undercurrent” — came at the cool-down: “It gets worse with time, but this one would be OK by me.” Disparate comments: “sourish”  … “funny tongue-feel” … “dirty.” The most damning comment was from a cranky taster who skipped her morning coffee in order to participate in the tasting: “I wouldn’t even drink this after a hangover. It’s bitter and shitty.”

Sun Coffee Roasters Organic French Roast
Price: $5.99 per 10 oz (on sale! regularly $7.49)
Eco cred: USDA Organic, Fair Trade certified, and Bird Friendly, which is good considering that the term “sun coffee” means coffee that is the opposite of shade-grown. For those of us in southwestern Massachusetts, this is regional coffee roasted in nearby Connecticut, 55 miles away.
Feedback: “It has chocolate in the nose! I’d drink it!” exclaimed one participant, who said this coffee was the “richest.” The cranky taster (see “shitty” comment, above) said, “It’s the only one I’d drink.” Another said, “Nice chocolaty flavor.” But its noirish-ness may have been too much for one detractor, who said it “desperately needs cream.”

Equal Exchange
Price: $9.19 per 10 oz
Eco cred: Organic certification by Oregon Tilth and Fair Trade certified. Not shade grown,  but Web FAQ says the company is “currently exploring the range of options for shade-grown certification that are now available to us.”
Feedback: This coffee, according to a wine-loving taster, “had more structure.” Another concurred that it had “some depth.” More than one panelist described it as “rich,” and its smell offended no one.  Cranky lady pronounced it “ashy.” Strangest comment of the day: “Skunky smell, but in a really good way!”

The bottom line

After the tasting the above coffees, we tried Barrington Coffee’s in-house organic French roast, which had been roasted the prior day. The results were quite shocking: The panel unanimously found it to be delicious.

And it wasn’t because Barth and Gregg were our gracious hosts. (Trust me — this group had Tourette’s-like honesty.) This fresh stuff was straight-to-your-brainstem yummy: smooth, rich, chocolaty.

The point worth remembering here is that coffee is perishable; freshly roasted stuff is best. So, if you are able and lucky, find yourself a small, local roaster. The coffee will not only be fresher, but your direct relationship with them will allow to you ask questions to determine whether or not its production is sustainable. Some smaller roasters such as Barrington may source their beans from small growers who lack certifications, but whose practices are nonetheless praiseworthy.

Short of that, reach for Equal Exchange, which our panel ranked the highest. (Although, strangely enough, the comments toward Sun were kinder. So, gas up your morning tank with that one, too.) And despite the grumpiness of this panel, it should be noted that the ranked coffees were more alike than different — so much so that one taster gave up and essentially dropped out of the tasting, declaring “I can’t make heads or tails of any of these, and I’m wearing gay* coffee shoes.”

But really, no matter what your taste, you’re off to great start by choosing environmentally principled coffee.

*This comment was in no way meant to offend the gay community. Trust me; I pinkie-swear that this particular Massachusetts panel fully supports gay marriage. And while we’re at it, we’re all really sorry about Scott Brown. And apropos of nothing but the spirit of fending off potentially pissy comments: This tasting was vegan. We didn’t oppress a cow by taking her cream.

In Checkout Line, Lou Bendrick cooks up answers to reader questions about how to green their food choices and other diet-related quandaries. 

—————

Dear Checkout Line,

For months now, I can’t seem to walk through my local natural-food market without smacking into a vast display of pomegranates — and I usually put one in my cart. Not that long ago, the fruit with the deep-red seeds would show up in the market in a tiny pile, and just for a short time in October. What gives? Did someone put in a giant monocrop of them somewhere in California? Are they sustainably grown, or do they require lots of pesticides and fertilizers?

Thanks,
Ed with the Red-Stained Lips

Dear Ed,

Hey, Mr. Red-Stained Lips, are you related to Twilight vampire Alice Cullen? I ask because, aside from lip coloration, you must have supernatural powers that tipped you off to the fact that there is indeed a giant monocrop of pomegranates in California!

Flickr via JOE M500The “someone” who put them there is the rich n’ glammy marketing maven Lynda Resnick, who also owns, among other holdings, the way-out-of-fashion Fiji Water company, and who used to own the Franklin Mint. For the back story on how Resnick plucked the pomegranate from relative obscurity and primed it for superfruit stardom with a savvy ad campaign, read her book Rubies in the Orchard. This book is mostly about marketing, but it got gushy blurbs from a variety of big names including Michael Pollan, Martha Stewart, Arianna Huffington, Michael Milken, Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., Alice Waters, Gloria Steinem, and her Majesty Queen Noor of Jordan (which at least proves she certainly knows how to market herself). I’m sure she meant to ask me for a blurb, too, but my line was busy that day.

Back to pomegranates: The “Wonderful” is the single variety of pomegranate grown for Resnick’s lucrative juice company POM Wonderful. According to its web site, they grow 18,000 acres of capital-w Wonderful pomegranates and supply 90 percent of the American pomegranate market. So, the displays you smacked into (ouch) were likely courtesy of Paramount Farms, the Resnick-owned agribiz operation that supplies POM Wonderful.

Are these pomegranates sustainably grown?

No, but they don’t appear to be hideously evil, either. I doubt any monocrop can ever be truly sustainable, given that it is vulnerable to complete devastation by disease or pests, which may be one of the reasons that Paramount farms conventionally. On the upside, the Wonderful is a hardy variety, pomegranates in general are not a “thirsty” crop (they originally hail from arid Central Asia), and Paramount not only uses high-efficiency irrigation but also claims to be judicious in its application of chemicals.

According to an email from Daniel Portolan in POM Wonderful’s communication department, their pomegranate orchards are equipped with drip irrigation systems through which they can apply precise amounts of a non-aerosol insecticide that is applied once every three years. They also apply fertilizer through these irrigation systems, as needed. They claim to use about a quarter of the nitrogen in their conventional crops than as they do in their organic pomegranate orchard.

Wait — “organic pomegranate orchard”?

Don’t get too excited. According to Portolan, “We currently maintain a small orchard of organic pomegranates with no plans to expand at this time.” (Then again, Resnick devotes an entire chapter of her book on how “green is the new black” when it comes to business, so the pressure is on.)

So how much should you worry about those conventional pomegranates?

Growing pomegranates can be a messy business.Photo: libraryman via FlickrWell, if you really are related to Alice Cullen, I think you need to ask her to use her powers of precognition because I have no, um, bloody idea. Portolan wasn’t specific about the chemicals that Paramount uses, but according to Pesticide Action Network, some “bad actors”  were used on pomegranates in California in 2007. By bad actors, I don’t mean Twilight cast members; rather chemicals that PAN deems highly toxic. Among the eight bad actors used on pomegranates in 2007 was Malathion. I’m not saying that Paramount used this stuff, just that some California pomegranate growers did.

Pomegranates haven’t made the Environmental Working Group’s “Dirty Dozen” or “Clean Fifteen” lists, because the USDA data isn’t available for ranking this particular fruit. “That said, with the skin being so thick, much like a pineapple, I wouldn’t think a pesticide would make it into the part of the fruit people eat if it were applied to its surface,” Alex Formuzis, director of communications for EWG told me by email. “However, if the pesticide is applied to the root it could migrate up, into the inside of the pomegranate.”

Hmmm. Remember those aforementioned drip-irrigation systems that also deliver the pesticides? I’m not sure what to think about that, so I’m going to advise this: If you want to find truly sustainable pomegranates, try to live in a pomegranate-growing state such as California or Arizona, where you might be able to find interesting varieties of pomegranates produced by small growers and sold at farmers markets starting in the late summer or early fall.

You might also consider planting your own. Today, more and more green thumbs are planting interesting pomegranate cultivars thanks to Gregory Levin, an exiled Soviet botanist who often risked his life to collect more than a thousand pomegranate genotypes, and who sent cuttings to the University of California at Davis before his collection was destroyed.

Short of those efforts, look for organic pomegranates at your grocery store next fall. Nobody ever ate a pomegranate fast; enjoy this naturally slow food.

Sorry about the silly vampire theme, Ed, but it’s not easy to add levity to a pomegranate column. And, really, you started it.

Lou Bendrick
(Team Jacob)

In Checkout Line, Lou Bendrick cooks up answers to reader questions about how to green their food choices and other diet-related quandaries. Lettuce know what food worries keep you up at night.

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Time to green the canned-food drive.From the Grist Twitter feed: 
Looking for healthy safe nonperishable foods to donate to food banks. Ideas?  
– Janieo  
 

Dear Janieo, 

Thanks so much for this question. I must admit that sometimes I feel like I’m fiddling while Rome burns — prattling on about the merits of artisan chocolate while people go hungry.

To understand the issue of hunger better, I contacted Jean Kempe-Ware, public relations manager of the Oregon Food Bank. As it turns out, the Beaver State has the unfortunate rank of second in the nation when it comes to hunger (Mississippi is number one) and the demand for emergency food is rising. In an average month, the number of people who eat meals from an emergency food box through an Oregon Food Bank member agency jumped from an estimated 200,000 in 2007-08 to 240,000 in 2008-09.

“That’s enough people to fill the Rose Garden arena 12 times — in a month,” Kempe-Ware told me by email. Nationally, the picture isn’t pretty either. According to Feeding America, a study by the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s Economic Research Service showed that one in six Americans is “food insecure,” meaning that they live with hunger or fear of starvation. But that’s not the worst news: The New York Times reported just after Thanksgiving (irony of ironies) that food stamps now feed one in four children and one in eight Americans. Meanwhile, more and more older Americans are turning to food pantries to get by.  

Now then, instead of curling into a ball and crying, let’s get off of our virtual asses (okay, technically our asses aren’t virtual — at least not mine, thanks to that pecan pie) and come up with some healthy, safe, nonperishable foods to take to the food pantry post-haste.  
Here are some tips: 

• For we greens, safe doesn’t just mean unspoiled, but also free of harmful chemicals. So, donate organic foods if your budget allows. If you can’t, don’t worry about it. “We welcome nutritious, organic food from sustainable sources,” said Kempe-Ware. “That said, emergency food boxes aren’t meant to supply the majority of food that a family eats. The average recipient receives an emergency food box two or three times a year.” 

• If you can’t afford organic food (the unfairness of our food system, which makes healthy food a luxury and crappy food cheap, is another column entirely), you can make healthy choices by buying whole and single-ingredient foods and avoiding highly processed junk food (if the label has lots of unpronounceable ingredients, avoid it). Among the foods on the Oregon Food bank’s most-wanted nonperishable food list are canned or dried beans and peas (i.e., black, pinto, lentils) pasta, rice, and cereal. 

• Canned goods are often preferred by pantries, but you should avoid cans lined with BPA. Steering your shopping cart clear of this nasty substance isn’t easy. But according to Amy Rosenthal, online outreach manager at the Environmental Working Group Eden Organic canned goods do not contain BPA. If you’re unsure about the liners in the cans you buy, call or email the company.  

• Contact your local food bank and ask them for their donation guidelines. While buying food in glass containers skirts the BPA issue, not all food pantries will accept glass because it’s breakable. Consider donations that come in food-safe plastic containers (recycle numbers 5, 4, 1 & 2 are best), bags (such as a bag of rice), or cardboard boxes (such as 100 percent juice in juice boxes).  

• If you’re going to dig through the back of your cupboards, check the fresh dates on labels. Kempe-Ware also says: “Please no rusty or unlabeled cans; perishable, homemade, noncommercial canned or packaged items; alcoholic beverages, mixes, or soda; open or used items; or glass containers.” 

If vetting nonperishable choices is giving you a headache, there are plenty of other ways that you can help alleviate hunger. A food donation need not heed the musty canned-food drives of yesterday. Some food pantries are now distributing local, fresh food, including the Oregon Food Pantry.

“During harvest time, we welcome fresh produce from your garden.” So, consider planting an extra row in your garden this spring if your local pantry accepts fresh produce. You can also volunteer at a food bank or soup kitchen, and, needless to say, donate much-needed cold, hard cash (in many cases you can do this online). Also, remember pantries when the holidays are over and participate in food drives all year long. Or coordinate with a local pantry to host your own food drive. Did I mention advocate? Tweet away. 

It’s easy for me to make fun of my Thanksgiving overindulgence, but I also know that nobody should go hungry in this country. Thanks for reminding us that that we can help solve this problem in a green way. 

Happy Holidays, Janieo!
Lou 

Can such a “turkey” make your holiday feast soar?Photo courtesy of Jason Houston

A. Meat-centric holidays such as Thanksgiving can be challenging for vegetarians and evoke all kinds of emotions — including, but not limited to, extreme irritation toward carnivores.

B. These carnivores are likely to get very defensive, harrassed by the guilty knowledge that even a heritage-breed, biodynamic, locally raised, and gently killed bird probably isn’t as environmentally or morally justifiable as a plant-based meal — even if that plant-based meal is highly processed, lavishly packaged, and distantly shipped.

C. Any moral high ground gained by having a plant-based Thanksgiving may become absolutely meaningless if you screw up a happy, festive experience with a protein centerpiece that looks gross, or worse yet, has a flavor capable of sending guests, carnivorous and non, in search of a Butterball.

These facts, combined with a directive from my boss, have led me into the world of fake turkey. (Oh, I do it all for you, dear reader!) I went looking for a turkey-like main course that could please vegetarians and flummox the carnivores who insist that all faux meat sucks. And so I assembled a broad panel of tasters: three former vegetarians (including me, a former Michio Kushi-worshipping macrobiotic), one devout carnivore, and one actual full-fledged vegetarian (15 years running). The panel also included four children, whose ages range from two to nine, and whose approaches to eating run from adventurous to upsettingly fussy. Together we sampled several seasonal faux turkey products to see if any could produce the happy, bloated contentment of holidays past, whilst simultaneously embracing the spirit of change, earth-friendliness, inter-species kindness, and so forth.

How’d we do? Read on.

Box-to-table dining. Photo courtesy of Jason HoustonTofurky Vegetarian Feast
Ingredients: Water, vital wheat gluten, organic tofu (water, organic soybeans, magnesium chloride, calcium chloride), white beans, garbanzo beans, non genetically engineered corn starch, natural vegetarian flavor, expeller pressed non genetically engineered canola oil, shoyu soy sauce (water, non genetically engineered soy beans, wheat, salt, culture), spices, lemon juice, calcium lactate from beets.
Price: $24.99 for a total of 3 lbs of food — “turkey” plus sides — from Whole Foods. Note: You can buy a single Tofurky roast, but I decided to splurge on the “feast,” which for some odd reason included not only a Tofurky giblet (!) and mushroom gravy also but dumplings and a jerky wishbone. (Who says vegetarians don’t have a sense of humor!)

Tasters were not sure whether to be comforted or disturbed by the fact that this product had a skin, which one taster described as smelling like “art class.” All tasters struggled for texture descriptors for Tofurky (motto: “America’s Leading Turkey Alternative Since 1995″), but the most evocative was “squeaky on the teeth.” Two tasters described the taste as bologna-like and most concurred that this “bird” was salty. Strangest overall comment: “Carp would love this.” The most backhanded compliment came out of the mouth of a babe, who, to the chagrin of her parents, exclaimed “It tastes like McDonald’s Chicken McNuggets, and I like those!”

Nothing says Turk’y like a box. Quorn Turk’y Roast
Ingredients: Mycoprotein (58%), rehydrated egg white, pea fiber. Contains 2% or less of autolyzed yeast extract, onion powder, tapioca and potato maltodextrin, natural flavor from non-meat sources, salt, dextrose, gum arabic, calcium lactate, sage extract, canola oil, citric acid, garlic powder, pepper, sunflower & palm kernel oil
Price: $8.59 for 16 oz roast at my local grocery store

This product came highly recommended from Steven, the frozen foods manager at my favorite grocery store who also happens to be a bona fide vegetarian. Indeed, our panel’s own vegetarian taster admitted that she ate it “voluntarily” and deemed it the most turkey-like, juicy, and “pure.” The devoted carnivore, meanwhile, agreed it was turkey-like, but added that it was “dry, like an over-cooked turkey breast.” Overall, the group applauded Quorn’s un-stuffed, putty-colored honesty: As one taster put it, “It’s not trying too hard to be turkey.” Tellingly, this was the only faux turkey product that the kids wanted more of, asserting that it tasted either like chicken, or, weirdly, like pizza. Thank god they didn’t know it was largely made from fungus.

Full disclosure: The cooking directions called for this roast called for it to be cooked in its plastic “film.” There was no way in hell I was going to heat food in plastic, so I wrapped it snugly in aluminum foil. If this compromised the taste or texture in any way, we were none the wiser.

How much will you give me to try this? Field Roast Celebration Roast
Ingredients: Filtered water, vital wheat gluten, expeller pressed safflower oil, naturally flavored yeast extract, barley malt, butternut squash, organic wheat flour, granulated garlic, apples, mushrooms, onion powder, garlic organic wheat flakes, yellow pea flour, lemon juice, red wine, tomato paste, irish moss (sea vegetable) extract, black pepper, rubbed sage, rosemary, spices, natural liquid smoke and paprika.
Price: $7.99 for 1lb roast at Whole Foods

Though it’s maketed as a “roast,” the manufacturer lists steaming as a method for getting this fist-sized, squarish product ready for the table. I associate the holidays with roasting, but got over my cultural baggage and gave steaming a try. The method wins points for quickness and ease — but probably didn’t help this product’s texture, which inspired descriptions like “unfortunate” and was compared to rubber, cement, and — oxymoronically — “dried pudding.” More than one taster declared its flavor spicy. More specifically, tasters said it was like “Vegeroni” or “varnished pine.” The most damning comment came from a kid who said, “I would eat this for $10.”

What’s that in the middle?!Gardein Stuffed Turk’y Roast
Ingredients: Water, soy protein, vital wheat gluten, bread crumbs (enriched wheat flour (niacin, reduced iron, thiamine mononitrate, riboflavin, folic acid)), dehydrated cranberries, natural flavors (from plant sources), modified vegetable gum, potato starch, long grain white rice, wild rice, expeller pressed canola oil and/or safflower oil, dehydrated onion and garlic, parsley flakes, spices, pea protein, carrot fiber, organic beet root fiber, organic evaporated cane juice, sea salt. Breading: modified corn starch, modified wheat starch, corn flour, wheat flour, sugar, toasted wheat crumbs, wheat gluten, sea salt, sugar, garlic powder, spice, onion powder, sunflower oil, dextrose, guar gum, yeast, extractives of paprika, caramel color.
Price: Time for a “full disclosure.” I couldn’t find this product at my local grocery stores or the nearest urban Whole Foods (where it is allegedly found, seasonally), so I had to call up its Canadian producer and ask for some. I don’t normally like to take freebies because I think they compromise journalists, but I was in a jam and there you have it. Oh, and they sent me some chicken-y items, too, that we didn’t have the time or room to taste. Truth be told, after just four veggie products, my panel was pissing and moaning and very ready for pie to be served. (Btw: It was this pie, made freshly by the Devout Carnivore.) In any case, the suggested retail is $3.99 per individual Gardein Stuffed Turk’y Roast.

Although this product looked like a “dog treat,” as one taster aptly put it, it was the runner-up to the Quorn roast, at least for the adult tasters who almost unanimously found the taste to be smoky or hot-dog like. Most laudatory comment: “Nice crunchy coating.” Most frustrated: “What the f**k is in the middle?” It fared dramatically worse with the kids, who reacted to it with terrible faces. One child, perhaps owing to the fact that bedtime was approaching and dessert had not yet been served, even threw her chunk onto the floor and wailed that it tasted like “rotten eggs.”

All’s well that ends well. Photo courtesy of Jason HoustonOne more disclosure: I also ordered a Stuffed Faux Turkey Breast from Café Indigo to see if a local (New England, in my case) and more boutique product ($25 plus shipping) was somehow tastier. But because of a shipping snafu, this banana bread look-alike seitan “breast” did not arrive in time for the group tasting and therefore did not have the benefit of an expert wine-lit panel. But I will say this about it: Seitan products are all more alike than they are different. They tend to be chewy and, at least to me, they all smell like bullion.

The Bottom Line: Do not, under any circumstances, let your dinner guests see any faux turkey products in pre-presentation form. Use the time-honored technique for overcooked real turkeys: Serve it sliced and attractively fanned out, smothered with gravy and cranberry sauce, presented to appropriately hungry diners whose palates have been primed by way too much Beaujolais Nouveau. In that spirit, consider the unpretentious and affordable Quorn roast. Otherwise, consider starting an entirely new tradition, one that skips highly processed and packaged food products and bases the entire meal on, say, homemade pie. There’s a new Thanksgiving tradition I’m sure vegetarians and carnivores could all agree on.