Accidental Hedonist

It may, at first, seem peculiar to talk about ships when visiting what is, ostensibly, a food blog. But if we’re going to talk about the logistics of bringing foods to the masses, then technology, of many sorts, plays a tremendous role. All of this? All of this is my way of bringing the caravel into the discussion of the spice trade.

Before going into that, let me paint a picture of trade routes at the time. Before the caravel was introduced, no European country had the resources, either in ships or money, or knowledge, to find away around the Cape of Good Hope of lower Africa. As such, spice trade to South Asia and Indonesian had to be conducted primarily over land, at least from a European perspective. (It should be noted that the Asian countries, who had little to no desire to head to Europe, had the naval technology they needed in order to get their spices to market).

The primary European controller of those routes? That would be Venice, who had ensured the trade routes from the Ottoman Empire (when they weren’t fighting with them), as well as many Arabic and Egyptian routes as well. This isn’t to say other areas of Europe weren’t making money in the spice trade (in fact, the Genoans were doing brisk business as well, when they weren’t fighting amongst themselves), but the Venetians were clearly the primary power in the Spice Trade.

This fact stuck in the Genoans craw. They were always looking for ways to stick it to the Venetians, but did not have the resources to usurp the City on the Adriatic. They had the money, but either did not have the people or the willpower to fully commit to finding a way to get control of the spice trade.

Enter the Portuguese.

The Portuguese had approached ship building differently from the Italian city states. Largely due to the Islamic influence on the Iberian peninsula, their fishing craft did not demonstrate the size and power of the galleys of Venice and Genoa. Instead, their craft was lighter and more nimble.

Things really became interesting when Henrique o Navegador, known to us english-speaking folks as Henry the Navigator, an infante of the Kingdom of Portugal,found himself flush with money, from both the Order of Christ (of which he was their leader), and financiers from Genoa (who really wanted to stick it to the Venetians). Somewhere in the midst of all of this influx of cash, Henry came up with the idea of expansionism and empire, and began funding for what was to become a navy. The caravels were perfect for this task, as they required a smaller crew, held more space, and was nimble enough to head into rivers, but strong enough to last days at see without land in site.

Add to this mix the Portuguese dedication to cartography, as well as paying craftsmen to improve upon the designs of the caraval, and soon Henry found his empire colonizing the Madeira Islands in 1420, the Azores in 1430, and then was able to beat the the changes in winds that occur at Cape Bojador, where conditions of the continuous sharp winds from the Northeast prevented seamen from heading further down the West coast of Africa. In the caravel, a ship that didn’t need to hug the shoreline, they found that setting a course a few leagues to the west, outside the sight of land, more favorable winds could be used. Soon, more trips were financed for further down the coast of Africa. What made these trips profitable wasn’t spice, but slavery, which the Pope so graciously said was allowable, as long as they weren’t Christian.

After Henry passed away, the royal house of Portugal saw the benefits of Henry’s ideals, and pushed them even further. John II of Portugal set out on many long reforms. To break the monarch’s dependence on the feudal nobility, John II needed to build up the royal treasury and saw royal commerce as the key to it. With money from Genoa (and their continual pointing out how wealthy Venice was), he tasked Bartolomeu Dias with taking a small fleet (that included caravels) around the Cape of Good Hope, and did so in 1488. Then, in 1497 (five years after Columbus departed from the New World with two Caravels – the Pinta and Niña) Vasco da Gama led a fleet of four ships (one of which, the Berrio, was definitely a caraval, and another which was lost at sea,that might have been) the and a crew of 170 men from Lisbon to Calcutta. Even though da Gama lost two ships, 115 men, and took two years to complete the task, he returned with a cargo that was worth sixty times the cost of the expedition.

And in Venice, a collective “Oh, shit” was said when news of the Portuguese success made its way to their doge.

None of this could have been accomplished without the caravel. The European (and later, American) desire for cinnamon, cloves, mace, and especially black pepper can be directly attributed to the success of this ship. For without this technology (as well as the greed of various men that I will discuss at a later date), the spices in our cabinet would have arrived in a far different route, if at all.

In the latest issue of WIRED, they tackle that every day problem of the best way to dunk cookies into milk, a problem which, let’s face it, has enamored the geekiest amongst us from time to time. What is the optimal time for a cookie to be in milk before falling apart in a goopy mess into the milk cup?

Their findings? The Washburn equation that could be used to optimize cookie-dunking. The equation looks like this:

L^2=γDt/4η

t is the time for a liquid of dynamic viscosity η and surface tension γ to penetrate a distance L into the capillary whose pore diameter is D.

All of this is a fancy way of saying every porous material out there has a set amount of liquid it can hold. If you push it beyond that limit? You get goop.

So how much time should a cookie be in milk before it hits that stage? Len Fisher, a visiting fellow in physics at the University of Bristol, England, determined in 1998 that somewhere between 3.5 seconds to 5 seconds is the optimal time (depending on what kind of cookie, which ingredients were used, etc, etc.)

But, Fisher found, this is if you dunk cookies the traditional way, that is to say, vertically into the milk. If you decided to dunk your cookies horizontally, and only place half of the cookie into the milk, you could keep it in between 14 and 20 seconds.

So now you know.

I’m the type of person who likes the ideas of holidays in theory. But in application, I find them full of stress, panic, and the unwanted interaction with people with whom, if it were July, would deign it inappropriate to interact with me (and vice-versa). It’s one of the major reasons I like to travel around the holidays, as it gets me out of social obligations that I would like to avoid otherwise. This makes me sound Scrooge-ish, I know, but as I get older, but if you’re going to ask me to choose between having the day off, going out to eat with my partner, and reading a good book, versus heading to a meal with 15 other people, only 3 of which I know well, I’m going to choose the restaurant, my partner, and a book.

This leads me to talk about the joys of the restaurant Thanksgiving meal, a tradition in the Hopkins household. As a treat for all of the good meals I’ve cooked during the year, I’ve decided many years ago that the best thing I could do during the holidays is avoid socially obligated holiday cooking. It’s a tradition that started back in my twenties, when I wanted to celebrate Thanksgiving, but was far enough away from family that I couldn’t make an easy trip, and too financially strapped to afford the long-distance travel. So, I looked in the newspaper, found a place that was open, and headed out to a turkey dinner. I enjoyed the time to myself immensely and did it again the next year. A tradition was born.

As I grew older and the holiday season approached, I saw more and more people caught up in the activities surrounding these meals, and become stressed at the thought of making the dinner perfect, or dealing with this one relative, or having to start the kitchen work at 6 am and not be done until 7 pm. These only cemented by belief that my choice was the way to go. I vowed to share the restaurant Thanksgiving with anyone who wanted to, but I would not go back to the tradition instilled activities of backing, broiling, and trying to find the best way to roast the best turkey. I now leave that entirely to the professionals.

There’s often more variety at the restaurants, and while the traditional foods are great, seeing a new take on the old classics does wonders for my palate. The service is typically top notch (at least the places I go), and the management of the places I frequent understand that many of their crew also want to spend time with their family, so they offer holiday pay to those who choose to work.

And now I’m spending these moments with my loved ones, who see the beauty of this arrangement. For me, it’s the best possible option. It’s also one I recognize doesn’t fit well on others. That’s okay.

But for some? Let me say this: Try it once. Do some research, see which of your family and friends would be up to it, and make early reservations (late September, early October). If you find the right place, it will change your look on Thanksgiving dinner.

Yes, it’s turkey season, the time of year when amateur nutritionists let us know that the feeling of sleepiness that we get after a huge turkey dinner is due to the amount of tryptophan in Ben Franklin’s favorite bird.

But how many can tell us what tryptophan actually is and what it actually does?

Tryptophan is an an essential amino acid that functions as a biochemical precursor (meaning it helps creates proteins in the body) for serotonin, niacin, and auxin.

The problem for the amateur nutritionists is twofold. One, the amount of tryptophan in turkey is comparable to that of beef and chicken, and is less than the amount found in soy beans and Parmesan cheese. Second, the situation/environment one would need to in order to fall asleep by consuming enough turkey is difficult to replicate on Thanksgiving day.

So why does it seem we fall asleep after a big meal on the day of Thanks? There’s actually a name for this – Post-prandial somnolence, which is a fancy way of saying “sleeping after eating”.

Look towards the amount of carbohydrates. They tend to have a high glycemic index, and when consumed in mass quantities (say, in dressing, gravy, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie), they tend to affect our insulin levels, pushing us towards a level of drowsiness.

So while tryptophan can make us sleepy, we actually create a more effective situation for sleepiness by eating a carb-heavy meal.

So, now you have just enough information to annoy your family on Thanksgiving day.

You’re welcome!

via Reddit

Dear…well…nearly everybody,

I appreciate the emotion and response to the idea that Congress is mandating that pizza is a vegetable. Getting politically charged over food issues is, generally, a good thing.

It’s just that, your story is wrong.

It’s tomato paste that’s claimed to be a vegetable, and has been for a while now. This is not a new thing.

“But Kate!”, I can hear a few of you say. “Tomato Paste can only be used in Pizza.”

Clearly you never used sauce with pasta. But this is beside the point.

My point is this – if outrage you must have (and the way we approach school lunches is outrageous) – then your outrage must come from a logical, well thought through, well-evidenced, position. If the first thing out of your mouth is “Congress says pizza is a vegetable!”, then your position has been tainted by an emotive response to a poorly written news article, rather than the real issue.

Oh, what’s the real issue?

That the American Frozen Food Institute (AFFI), the trade association that lobbied Congress on behalf of frozen pizza sellers like ConAgra Foods Inc and Schwan Food Co and french fry makers McCain Foods Ltd and J.R. Simplot Co., have enough influence to dictate to Congress, what constitutes a healthy meal for children.

And, if you really want to expand on this point, you, who tweeted yesterday in moral indignation, did nothing to prevent this from happening (I mean, the general you, not the specific you). Because one of the ways that makes the food lobbying machine work is the knowledge that many, many people in the general public don’t have the time to do the work to counter industry proposals.

So while, yes, getting involved in food politics is a good thing – and this week’s outrage was political – doing so involves being active, rather than reactive.

Be well, and fight the good fight,

-Kate

PS. And before I get the e-mails that state that pizza is the primary way tomato paste is delivered, it still doesn’t make tomato paste into pizza, any more than a camshaft is a car, or a mouse is a computer.

To say that there is only one motivating factor for EVERYONE who had been involved in the Spice Trade would take a bit of hubris. We should acknowledge that each country involved, and each individual involved are entitled to whatever thought process that compelled them to get themselves on a boat, or open a warehouse, or attack Venice.

That being said, once we sift through the events of time, that a pattern of specific benefits becomes established. In reading over various manuscripts, these are the two primary motivations that are repeated:

1) To get a luxury item cheaper than the next country/monarch/republic.
2) To maintain/increase/establish some level of international power.

Item 2 is a bit tricky, because at first glance, it looks like it’s little more than a result of item 1. But my argument is a little nuanced. For evidence shows that the Royalty of the middle ages didn’t think in the terms of what we consider “modern” economics. Often the success of a country/kingdom could be determined by who ruled , which in turn, determine who had to provide taxes to the royalty, or who could by plundered, or in some cases, who was morally superior. There’s a distinct group of people who viewed the spice trade, not as a means to make a boatload of money, but as a means to demonstrate that God was on their side.

This last point is key, for keep in mind that in the middle of the 1500′s, when I hope to pick up the narrative, the idea of who was morally superior is a common theme, especially in the world of religious battles between Protestants and Catholics. I’ve been seeing phrases such as “God in an Englishman!” or “God graces Spain” or some other similar phrase in many different texts.

Which brings me to my last point. Both points 1 and 2 can be (and should be) different meanings for different people, including the major players in the spice trade. Getting items cheap could mean saving money, which in turn could be used in other areas of the economy, or it could mean getting it cheap in order to turn it around and sell it at an amazing profit.

And don’t even get me started on the many interpretations of “power”. How the Dutch viewed power was different from how the Spanish viewed power.

At any rate, I’ll return to these points repeatedly in future posts.