Articles by Tom Philpott

Checking out the scene in the nation's industrial-tomato capital

Tomorrow, I'm heading down to Immokalee, Florida, to check out conditions in our nation's tomato basket. During the growing season -- between December and May -- something like 90 percent of tomatoes consumed in the U.S. come from the area in south Florida anchored by Immokalee.

I'm going as part of a delegation of food-oriented writers and activists including authors Frances Moore Lappé and Raj Patel, Slow Food USA president Josh Viertel, and others.

For decades, working conditions in South Florida's prodigious tomato fields have ranged from ruthlessly exploitative to outright slavery. Even under the best conditions, wages are stagnant and workers live in poverty.

Yet workers in the area, represented by the Coalition of Immokalee Workers, have made headlines in recent years by forcing gigantic tomato buyers like Taco Bell and Burger King to pony up an extra penny a pound -- which would cost fast-food companies a tiny sliver of profit, but represent the first substantial wage gain for pickers in decades.

There's a catch: the state's growers cooperative, the Florida Tomato Growers Exchange, refuses to pass on the raise to workers. Thus workers still get 45 cents for every 32-pound basket they fill -- a wage that hasn't budged in years, eroded by steady inflation.

Immokalee is one of the hotspots of of a globalized, industrial food system. The plight of its workers -- many of them refugees from small farms in Mexico and Central America that have collapsed under the weight of that same system -- represents just another externalized cost of stocking supermarkets, fast-food outlets, and school cafeterias with "cheap" food.

For a great brief backgrounder on the Immokalee situation, check out Barry Estabrook's piece in the current Gourmet.

Look for a wrap-up of my Immokalee trip on Friday.

For the first time in decades, a healthy school-lunch debate opens

First it was the 2008 (nee 2007) Farm Bill. Then it was Obama’s choices for the top USDA posts. Now it’s the National School Lunch Program. Food issues once lived at the margins of U.S. political discourse, where agribusiness and food-industry interests could control them. Now they’re inching toward the center. A new era has […]

A new low-carbon (if not low-carb) way to cook the Italian staple

When it comes to Italian cooking, I'm very Church of Marcella Hazan, orthodox sect.

What the exacting doyenne of Italian food tells me to do in her Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking, I do. No questions asked. In her celebrated chapter on pasta -- which I revere like Christians revere the Gospels -- Hazan had this to say about the role of water:

Pasta needs lots of water to move around in, or it becomes gummy. Four quarts of water are required for a pound of pasta. Never use less than three quarts, even for a small amount of pasta.

She also laid down the law on salt in pasta cookery.

For every pound of pasta, put in no less than 1 1/2 tablespoons of salt... Add the salt when the water comes to a boil.

For about 15 years, through literally hundreds of pounds of pasta (I conservatively estimate 650 pounds), I followed these instructions. The great results I got were like worldly riches to a Calvinist -- proof that I had chosen the right path.

Now everything has changed. Reality has been overturned. In a recent New York Times article, the eminent food-science writer Harold McGee issued a decree tantamount to a papal renunciation of the Immaculate Conception.

Turns out, you don't need "lots of water" for pasta -- two quarts will do. As for salt, two teaspoons is enough. (Although, in terms of salt-per-water, McGee's suggestion is only a little less than Hazan's.) Moreover -- this is the part that really sent a cold chill of apostasy down my spine -- you can put the pasta in the water before it boils; while it's cold, in fact.

For the non-food-obsessed, there is a green angle here.

In our latest tasting, organic beer comes of age

Imagine Norman Bates, twisted hero of Hitchcock’s Psycho, stumbling into a funhouse of mirrors and finding Mother at the center, her image reflected on a thousand surfaces surrounding him. He might freak out, right? That’s a bit how I feel when I walk into Carrboro Beverage Co., a small and extremely well-stocked beer store in […]