Showing posts with label Francesco Buscemi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Francesco Buscemi. Show all posts

Saturday, 19 November 2016

What a Wonderful Gluten-free World!


Italian version below

Imagine that in a day of the early Twentieth Century, a really tired man, called Joe, went to bed after dinner. Just because Joe was so tired, he ate pastina glutinata, that is, gluten-added pasta, a speciality of those times. It was commercialised at the end of the Nineteenth century by Buitoni, one of the most popular Italian food companies. An interesting book by Dario Bressanini and Beatrice Mautino, which challenges many of our food beliefs, and also Bressanini's blog, say that at the beginning pastina glutinata had about 15 percent more gluten that traditional pasta, and that other kinds of pasta glutinata had about 30 percent more of this ingredient.
Also imagine that Joe was so tired that he slept until ten minutes ago. When Joe gets up, he realises that some time has passed, and goes around to shop some food. As he feels still tired, he is in search of pasta or other foods added with gluten, very much gluten, about 30 percent, or perhaps more, because probably food companies, in the meantime, have created foods with 40 or 50 percent of gluten. When Joe asks the employees at the supermarket for gluten-added foods, they look at him as he was crazy. In going around the supermarket, not only does he realise that gluten is not added to food anymore, but he also sees that gluten is taken away from the items of food that naturally contain it. Welcome to the gluten-free world, Joe!



Risultati immagini per pastina glutinata

Sixty or seventy years have been sufficient to invert our conception of gluten. We have turned this element from a necessary, strengthening substance to a dangerous ingredient threatening our health. Assuming that gluten has not changed over this period, we must admit that those who have changed are us. What we should understand is which part of the human being has changed: our bodies or our minds?
Some say that it is human body that has changed. The refined flours we continually eat today, in fact, contain less fibre and proteins and, thus, more gluten. We eat much more gluten than our parents and grandparents. We eat too much gluten, and this has made our digestive systems gluten-intolerant.
Others say that gluten-intolerance doesn't really exist (apart from celiac disease, which concerns only a few people), and that it is our mind that has changed our approach to gluten. We increasingly consider food as a kind of medicine, and often find some items of food miraculously benefiting, and others dangerous.
I'm not an expert and don't have the foggiest idea of which of the two theories is the right one. However, as a social researcher, I know that, either it is body or it is mind, marketing (in the forms of advertising, pseudo-informative programmes, unfair scientists, etc), tempts us with its gluten-free products. And I also know that Joe will buy those products very soon.



Immaginate che agli inizi del '900 un uomo molto stanco, chiamiamolo Joe, sia andato a dormire dopo cena. Proprio perché era molto stanco, Joe aveva mangiato la pastina glutinata, una specialità di quegli anni che fu commercializzata alla fine dell' 800 dalla Buitoni. Un bel libro di Dario Bressanini e Beatrice Mautino, che sfida molte delle nostre credenze sul cibo, e anche il blog di Bressanini, ci informano che all'inizio la pastina glutinata aveva circa il 15% in più di glutine rispetto alla pasta tradizionale, mentre altri tipi di pasta glutinata arrivarono ad averne il 30% in più.
Immaginate anche che Joe fosse così stanco che ha dormito fino a dieci minuti fa. Quando si alza, capisce che è passato un bel po' di tempo, e va in giro a cercare qualcosa da mangiare. E proprio perché si sente stanco, cerca pasta o altri cibi addizionati di glutine, molto glutine, circa il 30%, se intanto non ne hanno inventati altri che ne hanno ancora di più.
Quando Joe dice al personale del supermarket che sta cercando prodotti addizionati con glutine, quelli lo guardano come fosse un matto. Allora va in giro per il negozio, e capisce non solo che non si aggiunge più glutine ai cibi, ma anche che il glutine viene tolto ai cibi che lo contengono naturalmente. Benvenuto nel mondo gluten-free, Joe!


Risultati immagini per pastina glutinata

Sessanta o settant'anni sono stati sufficienti per invertire la nostra concezione del glutine. Infatti, abbiamo fatto diventare questo elemento da una sostanza necessaria ed energizzante a un ingrediente pericoloso e minaccioso per la nostra salute. Visto che in questo periodo il glutine non è cambiato, dobbiamo ammettere che quelli che siamo cambiati siamo noi. Quello che dovremmo capire è quale parte dell'essere umano è cambiata: il nostro corpo o la nostra mente?
Alcuni dicono che è il corpo ad essere cambiato. Le farine 00 che mangiamo in continuazione oggi, infatti, contengono meno fibre e proteine di quelle integrali che si mangiavano una volta e, quindi, più glutine. Mangiamo più glutine dei nostri genitori e dei nostri nonni, troppo per il nostro corpo, e questo ha reso il nostro apparato digerente intollerante al glutine.
Altri dicono che l'intolleranza al glutine non esiste, e che è la nostra mente ad essere cambiata. Sempre più consideriamo il cibo come una medicina, e spesso cataloghiamo alcuni cibi come dei toccasana e altri come pericolosi.
Non sono un esperto, e non ho idea di quale delle due teorie sia quella vera. Ma come studioso di scienze sociali so che, corpo o mente, il marketing, sotto forma di pubblicità, media pseudo informativi, scienziati scorretti, ecc., approfitta di tutto questo e ci tenta con i suoi prodotti gluten-free. E so che anche Joe, molto presto, comprerà quei prodotti.

Saturday, 15 October 2016

New Questions for Local Food Companies


In another post of this blog, I wrote about the critiques surrounding the zero-miles food theory. To sum up, the problem is that today people travel around the world and live big parts of their lives far from their birthplaces much more than in the past. All of this has caused displacement, and food from birthplaces is the easiest and best way of curing distress. That's why Italian people living in London don't buy zero-miles English food, but lots-of-miles pasta and Parmigiano. And the same happens to the Indians living in Europe, the Egyptians in the US, and so on. 
In addition, much research has demonstrated that sometimes importing food from other countries is less polluting than growing food at home. Finally, many local companies are selling their products on the internet globally, sending local foods to other countries and thus contradicting the basic rule of the theory. Interestingly, those who buy this local food are both people suffering with food nostalgia and people who have nothing to do with the geographic origins of that food. As a result, the idea of eating food coming from the same area where one lives is still fascinating in theory, but is becoming less feasible in practice.
If we assume that the zero food miles theory is in difficulty, we must also assume that the companies producing and selling local food have a problem. In fact, these companies have often based their communication on the fact that they are a zero food miles company. Now that the theory is less fascinating, new questions arise. Why do people buy local food? How should local food companies promote their products?
The problem is already here, and some of these companies are looking for new strategies. Interestingly, Italian national channels are broadcasting the commercial of mozzarella Francia, a local brand which is very popular in the area surrounding Rome. This brand has often promoted its products by underlining its local production process. The new commercial, instead, ignores the local character of the brand, which is now available in many Italian regions and is in fact promoted on national channels. The commercial focuses on the fact that this mozzarella doesn't contain citric acid and other ingredients extraneous to mozzarella's traditional recipe, only containing milk, salt and rennet. Thus, the commercial seems to say: “Wherever you live and were born, buy it because it's local, and thus it's good”
I strongly believe that local food will be increasingly successful in the near future. However, what I also believe is that the people who will buy it will live far from the region where that food has been produced. They will buy it either for nostalgia or because they simply like it., because it's better than the global counterpart By contrast, local foods will decreasingly be bought as it is produced close to home. In short, the famous lardo di Colonnata will be more successful out of than in Colonnata.

Saturday, 17 September 2016

Viva il Cibo Made in Italy?


Carlo Petrini, fondatore di Slow Food, e Oscar Farinetti, fondatore di Eataly, hanno recentemente chiesto che le etichette del cibo in vendita nei supermercati in Italia riportino anche i paesi da cui gli ingredienti sono stati importati. Questo in reazione alle polemiche scoppiate quando si è scoperto che Eataly, supermercato di buon cibo 'made in Italy', vende 'pasta italiana' fatta con grano importato dal Canada e da altri paesi.

Tutto questo è sacrosanto, perchè più sappiamo del cibo che mangiamo e meglio è. Però colpisce anche che tutta l'attenzione si concentri sull'origine geografica degli ingredienti, che senza dubbio è importante ma non è l'unico problema. Per esempio, da qualche tempo, la carne e il pane confezionati dagli stessi supermercati che poi li vendono non hanno più gli ingredienti sull'etichetta. Spariti. Per trovarli bisogna andare a leggersi il 'libro degli ingredienti', che di solito si trova dall'altra parte del supermercato, che devi chiedere a qualcuno del personale o che, come mi è capitato in Inghilterra, dove vige la stessa regola, non si trova.

La sparizione degli ingredienti non ha suscitato le stesse polemiche della sparizione della loro origine geografica, ma è ugualmente, se non maggiormente, importante. Le carni, specialmente quelle lavorate come salsiccia, hamburger e wurstel, contengono spesso nitriti e altre sostanze giudicate in grado di causare, o almeno incoraggiare, alcune malattie. Se poi la carne coi nitriti venga dalla Germania o sia made in Italy a me personalmente sembra un problema minore. Lo stesso accade col pane, che a volte contiene strutto o altri grassi animali che sono più dannosi di quelli vegetali. Ma niente, il problema più importante sembra quello della provenienza, come se il fatto di essere italiano desse al cibo una patente di assoluta purezza e genuinità.

Francamente, a me non sembra, anche alla luce dei continui allarmi che riguardano il nostro cibo. Personalmente, tra una pasta fatta con grano canadese e una prodotta con grano della terra dei fuochi, preferirei la prima. E questo cavalcare il cibo made in Italy a tutti i costi, alla fine, mi sembra un modo semplice e a costo zero per rinfocolare l'identità italiana, in crisi non certo per colpa del grano canadese.

Friday, 9 September 2016

The Mystery of Fracosta




A couple of days ago, while reading the menu of an Italian restaurant, I bumped into the word fracosta, which I'd never heard before. Fracosta was on the page of meat dishes, and I supposed that it was the part between the ribs, as fra in Italian means between, and costa means rib. Actually, things are not that simple. The meat producer Stefano Magini says in fact that fracosta is the neck of the bovine. The Carrefour website explains that it is sottocollo, that is, the part under the neck. The glorious Treccani vocabulary candidly admits that actually fracosta refers to various bovine cuts, such as entrecôte and shoulder. Garzanti vocabulary, however, says that it also means 'steak' in general.



I might go on, citing sources giving fracosta whatever meaning, but what is interesting is to try to understand why, if at a restaurant you take fracosta, you don't know what you eat. If we called meat cuts with their real names, fracosta probably wouldn't exist, or at least it would only refer to the parts between the ribs. In the other cases, we would eat 'neck', 'shoulder', and so on.



It is evident that when it comes to eating we have been tending to replace the physical parts of the animal with other, confusing names. Again in Italy, chicken legs are now called fusi, which is not a part of the body, but means 'oval form', the form of the chicken legs. In English, the animals change their names when they are on a plate. The pig becomes pork, the cow becomes beef, the deer turns into venison, etc. At the table, we detach the animal from what we eat, and hide the animal origins of meat.

 


 Actually, the table has only been the last stage of a long, historical process. In the 1930s and 1940s, slaughterhouses were institutional places in the city centres. All the city dwellers saw the animals enter these buildings and knew perfectly well what happened to them inside. Similarly, in the 1970s in Italy, Britain and many other countries, especially in the small towns, the butchers' shops were full of hanging dead animals, and the customers considered this a sort of guarantee of the quality of the meat they were buying. Today, slaughterhouses are non-places hidden on the outskirts of the cities. No-one sees the animals enter and, even, what happens there (the animal killing) is shown to us by alternative documentaries, while mainstream media totally cover up the scene. Likewise, butchers' shops are clean places in which we can hardly see an animal with the head, legs, etc. We don't want to see where meat come from.

I'm not a vegetarian, and eat meat once or twice a month. However, I can see that also we meat eaters are every day more concerned with the concept of eating an animal. It has been a gradual process, a matter of generation. My grandparents didn't consider eating meat 'a problem', as meat was an item of food like the others. Among my parents' friends, there were some people concerned with eating an animal. I have many friends who are vegetarians, and also many meat eaters cannot help thinking that eating an animal is different from eating a carrot. Many of my students are vegetarians, and almost all of them consider eating an animal a problematic issue.

In the end, fracosta and fusi are only two small clues of a bigger and very complex process that interests me and that will be a frequent topic of this blog. In the next weeks I will go back to this issue and also to those who decidedly oppose this process. But each trend, we know, has its counter processes.