GMO Food Labeling – It's Not About Safety, It's About Our Right to Know

Let's hear it for the rabble rousers in Vermont! They have succeeded in sticking it to Big Food.

Vermont's governor, Peter Shumlin, recently signed legislation making his state the first to require identification of genetically modified organisms – GMO – on food labels. The lackeys at the FDA have bowed and scraped at the feet of Monsanto and other “Big Food” producers, as well as the food industry shills at the Grocery Manufacturers Association, and have avoided requiring such labeling at the federal level. So, groups of concerned citizens have been pushing the states to step forward and, although industry pressure has cowed a couple of them – looking at you, California and Washington – the movement is gaining ground. Vermont's neighbors in Maine and Connecticut have passed labeling legislation, but are covering their bets by declaring that the laws won't take effect until other states jump on the bandwagon. I don't know if Vermont's action will motivate them or not. But there are still at least 85 bills pending in 29 states regarding GMO labeling.

Of course, you can expect that Big Food will not take this affront to their sovereignty lightly. As sure as night follows day, there will be challenges and lawsuits that will keep Vermont's lawyers busy for months if not years. But it's a step in the right direction.

What's all the fuss, you might ask? After all, GMO foods have been around for a long time and people have not started dropping like flies as a result. As a matter of fact, most scientific evidence points to the mutations being benign. Other than a few red flag wavers – like the European Union, Japan, Australia, and a host of other countries – many people don't seem to have a problem with GMO from a safety standpoint. The promoters say that such technology is essential to feeding a growing world population. They say that their products will someday be more nutritious and the techniques involved in growing them will be better for the environment. Woo-hoo! I hope they're right. That's not really the issue here. The issue is one of clearly labeling the contents of our food packages.

Why is the food industry so dead set against us knowing what they're doing? If I hear one more food industry flak insult my intelligence by spouting off the company line, “Labels will only mislead and confuse consumers,” I think I'll have a conniption. How stupid do they think we all are? (Don't answer that.)

I have a right to know what I'm putting in my mouth, dammit. Don't tell me I'll be confused or mislead or frightened by seeing “Contains Genetically Modified Ingredients” printed on a label. That's what we have labels for; to tell us what's in the package before we decide to buy it. I'm not terrified by the prospect of mutated corn in my corn oil. But I'd still like to know it's in there. Why is that “confusing,” “misleading,” or “frightening?” I know of another word that could solve all the issues: “education.” If the food industry is so all-fired certain that we're nothing but a bunch of ignorant dolts, then I call upon them to educate us rather than to attempt to protect us from ourselves. When it comes to what we're putting in our bodies, ignorance is not bliss. Even if the substance in question is holy water, I want to know it's in there. I have a right to know it's in there. Why shouldn't I know it's in there? Unless there really is something to hide. Is the food industry really concerned that we poor fools will be confused, or do they have a darker agenda they're trying to hide? (Bwah-ha-ha! I love a good conspiracy theory!)

Seriously, c'mon, FDA, Monsanto, Grocery Manufacturers Association, and cowardly and/or corrupt politicians everywhere. Knowing what's in our food supply may not be one of the inalienable rights We the People are guaranteed by the Constitution, but maybe it should be. I'm sure James Madison and his cronies weren't up on genetic engineering, but they were pretty much on the side of an informed populace. And that's all we're asking; to be informed. To be able to make informed decisions. If GMO are safe, then the manufacturers and promoters of the stuff have nothing to hide and nothing to lose by telling us about it. If they're not safe and future generations start sprouting extra fingers and toes, well, at least we were informed and given the option to buy or not to buy.

The labeling issue is in our hands. We're the ones with the need to know and we're the only ones who can demand that we do know. The sight of FDA officials doing cartwheels and handstands at the bidding of their industry handlers is pathetic. They're like monkeys performing for peanuts. Probably genetically modified ones. Big Food has them firmly under control and the only way we'll get anything done that benefits us rather than “the industry” is if we all do what a bunch of rabble rousers in Vermont did. Don't just speak up, shout out! Make your state legislators hear your voice. Let them know that you want to be informed about what you're eating. It's that simple. It's not about safety or science, although that may be part of the bigger picture. And it's not about fear or confusion. With all the additives and preservatives the food industry shovels into our grocery carts, there's already enough questionable crap in there as it is. We just demand the right to know exactly what that questionable crap is and whether or not we really want to buy it.

Why Mario Batali Walked His Orange Crocs Out of Food Network

Food Network? Why Not Call It “Food and Entertainment Network?”

There's all kinds of Internet buzz being generated lately by the “news” behind Mario Batali's departure from Food Network. It's not really news. Mario has been telling people why he left for years, but for some reason when he sat down with “The Atlantic” recently and repeated his oft-told tale, it suddenly became “news.”

So why did Mario tell Food Network where to go? First of all, they gave him the Emeril LaGasse treatment. Like Emeril, Mario was a major stud in the network's stable back when they still pretended to care about food. “Molto Mario” was a programming staple, as was “Emeril Live.” Then the network did a 180 and decided they wanted to be an entertainment/reality medium rather than a food medium and they gave most of their food stars the old heave ho, replacing them with hours and hours of mindless, brainless, talentless competition shows and worse.

Mario hung around for awhile after they axed “Molto Mario” because he was still a major player on the one competition show Food Network had that was worth watching, “Iron Chef America.” But it didn't take long for the idiots on the upper floors to screw that pooch, too.

It's a basic tenet of jurisprudence that one is entitled to be judged by a jury of one's peers. Taken to the food competition show level, that would mean that contestants should be judged by their equals; people qualified to evaluate them based on their own experience within the food industry. Makes sense. And that's probably why the powers-that-be stopped doing it. I mean, we're talking Wolfgang Puck here. Bobby Flay. Masaharu Morimoto. And, of course, Mario Batali. And some of the competitors they faced included names like Jamie Oliver, Tim Love, Chris Cosentino, Anita Lo, Ming Tsai, Rick Bayless, Todd English, Wylie Dufresne, David Burke, John Besh, Susur Lee, Richard Blais, and Jose Andres, just to name a few. These high caliber, heavy hitting chefs have a galaxy of stars among them. And in the beginning, they were being judged by people who knew food. Fellow chefs, food writers, restaurant critics. But I guess the network execs figured that folks like Dana Cowin, Jeffrey Steingarten, and Ed Levine weren't glamorous or attractive or entertaining enough to fit their new entertainment module, so they started trotting out actors and comedians and sports figures. Now Boomer Esiason might be a great panelist on Monday Night Football, but what the hell does he know about food and cooking? Other than the fact that he likes to eat. So Mario got pissed about the whole dog and pony show and hit the road. And rightly so. First, they unceremoniously kick his well-received cooking show to the curb then they add insult to injury by letting “skinny little actresses” (his words) judge his offerings as a chef.

I'm a cook, okay? I'm not a chef, but I am a knowledgeable cook. And I write a bit about food. But I would never in my wildest dreams consider myself qualified to sit at a table with one or two equally unqualified individuals and tell any one of the aforementioned culinary superstars that their dishes needed salt. Can you imagine a Little League coach telling Derek Jeter or Miguel Cabrera or Ryan Braun that their swing is a little off? “Yo, Peyton Manning. I don't actually play football, but I watch it on TV and I don't think you're holding the ball quite right.” Or, “Gee, Mr.Pacino. I really like your movies, but I don't think you really got a handle on that last character you played.” Okay, so everybody's entitled to an opinion, but when you're in a position to judge something, shouldn't it at least be an informed or educated opinion?

A lot of people don't like Mario, and that's fine. I like him. We're not best buds or anything, but I've seen him in person and I respect his talent and his ability. The whole shorts, vest, and orange crocs thing and the rockstar wannabe attitude aside, he knows his food. And that's more than can be said about the people judging “Iron Chef America” these days. I agree with him on that point. Many is the time I've sat there in my living room and said, “Who the f**k are you (Mario's words again) to be talking about (fill in the blank)'s food?” Come on, Food Network! Just because a person has openings on both ends with which to process food does not make them qualified to pass judgment on professionals with decades of experience in the kitchen, no matter how many entertainment awards they've been nominated for or what their Nielsen ratings are.

But sadly, as I said, Food Network has long since abandoned any semblance of a commitment to food or food education in favor of the latest glitz and glam of so-called “reality” TV. They might as well call themselves the “Food and Entertainment Network.” Or maybe, to get the priorities straight, the “Entertainment and Food Network.” Does anybody remember a fortunately short-lived FN farce called “Bama Glama?” If not, look it up. Whoever green-lighted that disaster should be tarred, feathered, and ridden out of Chelsea Market on a rail. And the process should be filmed and aired. After all, feathers come from birds and birds are food, so by Food Network's logic, such a spectacle could be considered food programming.

When speaking of his erstwhile employer, former Food Networker Anthony Bourdain once said, “Aspiring to mediocrity is not a good thing.” Tony's gone. Mario's gone. Emeril's gone. Wolfgang is “retired.” Kitchen savvy Ted Allen and Alton Brown are reduced to being game show hosts. Nigella Lawson, Michael Chiarello, Jamie Oliver, Sara Moulton.......all serious food people and all gone. I'm a serious food person, too, and although I'm not quite gone yet, I'm going.

People always say, “Remember when MTV used to play music videos?” How about this; “Remember when Food Network used to be about food?”

Reading and Understanding Food Labels

Advertising Agencies Are Not Your Friends

You've probably heard by now that food labels are getting a makeover, the first such overhaul in more than twenty years. The biggest change will be to serving sizes. For years now, a 20-ounce bottle of soda has contained 2.5 servings. Right. Like that's realistic. Everybody stops drinking when they hit the 8-ounce mark, don't they? That way they only consume 130 calories and 32 grams of sugar, like it says on the label. Under the new guidelines, one bottle will equal one serving. And you won't have to squint anymore to find the calorie count; it'll jump right out at you in bigger print – all 325 calories plus 80 grams of sugar. The change that has the processed food pushers squirming the most is the one that will require the label to clearly list how much added sugar the product contains. No more guesswork about what is a naturally occurring sugar and what the manufacturer has added.

If you've read much of my writing, you'll know that I'm really big on reading labels. If the ingredient list reads like the answer sheet to a graduate level chemistry exam, avoid the product. But there are some less obvious things to watch for on food product labels. Beyond just reading, you have to understand and recognize things that manufacturers try to slip by you in the hope you won't notice you're being bamboozled.

Perhaps the biggest bamboozle is the word “natural.” Here's the lowdown straight from the FDA: “From a food science perspective, it is difficult to define a food product that is 'natural' because the food has probably been processed and is no longer the product of the earth. That said, FDA has not developed a definition for use of the term natural or its derivatives. However, the agency has not objected to the use of the term if the food does not contain added color, artificial flavors, or synthetic substances.”

You get that? Amidst the gobbledygook is the fact that the government agency that allegedly regulates our food supply has its lips so firmly attached to the nether regions of processed food producers that it really doesn't have a codified definition of the word “natural.” According to them, they don't “object” to a product being labeled “natural” as long as it doesn't contain anything blatantly unnatural.

For example, high fructose corn syrup is a “natural” product. Just ask the Corn Refiners Association that promotes the stuff. I'm sorry, but chemically engineered cornstarch does not fit my definition of a natural ingredient. And yet, the FDA allows it in almost everything you put in your mouth these days. They afford it GRAS status. That means “Generally Recognized As Safe.” Here's how the FDA describes HFCS in Title 21, Vol. 3, Part 184, Subpart B, Sec. 184.1866:

High fructose corn syrup, a sweet, nutritive saccharide mixture containing either approximately 42 or 55 percent fructose, is prepared as a clear aqueous solution from high dextrose-equivalent corn starch hydrolysate by partial enzymatic conversion of glucose (dextrose) to fructose using an insoluble glucose isomerase enzyme preparation described in 184.1372. The product containing more than 50 percent fructose (dry weight) is prepared through concentration of the fructose portion of the mixture containing less than 50 percent fructose.

My, doesn't that sound natural? And yet, when the FDA tried to grow a pair back in '08 and say that calling HFCS “natural” was “deceptive and misleading,” their overlords at the Corn Refiners Association slapped them back into submission and they reversed their decision.

How about “caramel coloring?” That's natural, right? Once upon a time, yes. Back when they made it by simply heating sugar until it turned brown. But not when they mix the sugar with ammonium compounds that produce a potentially toxic byproduct called 4-Methylimidazole or 4-MEI, a byproduct associated with other “natural” words like “carcinogenic” and “convulsant.” Industry pooh-poohers say, “Oh, but you'd have to drink massive amounts of caramel colored soft drinks to suffer any ill effects.” Guess that's why they've been quietly reducing the amount of the stuff they slip in your soda since the word about 4-MEI got out.

Have you ever seen “carrageenan” on a food label? Yeah, I didn't know what it was either. But the FDA says it's “GRAS,” so it must be alright, right? It's a seaweed derivative, specifically red algae, mostly found in dairy products and it's used to keep ingredients from separating. By the way, carrageenan is also found in “personal lubricants.” Think about that one next time you eat some ice cream containing this “natural” ingredient. Anyway, the battling “experts” are currently trying to determine whether or not carrageenan contributes to inflammation, profound glucose intolerance, impaired insulin action, and a number of other nasty things. At this point, the smart money seems to be on avoiding the stuff. Even the ever-courageous FDA has this to say in it's final paragraph on the substance: “The Select Committee has weighed the foregoing and concludes that: While no evidence in the available information on undegraded carrageenan demonstrates a hazard to the public when it is used at levels that are now current and in the manner now practiced, uncertainties exist requiring that additional studies should be conducted.”

In other words, go with the smart money. Avoid the stuff.

Look for “palm oil” in a lot of your snack food items. Manufacturers started putting it in there when the hammer came down on trans-fats and partially hydrogenated vegetable oils. All they did was substitute one potentially harmful substance for another, but the substituted substance at least sounds natural. Palm oil kind of makes you think of palm trees swaying in the tropical breeze. And it's actually made from a variety of palm tree, the oil palm. But it's not health food. True, it is slightly less saturated than butter and contains no trans-fats, but it's still a form of saturated fat, capable of jacking up your LDL if you eat enough of it. And you're eating enough of it. The United States imported about 2.7 billion pounds of the stuff in 2013. Which leads to another issue; an environmental one. Increased demand for palm oil has resulted in massive destruction of tropical forests in places like Indonesia, where the clear-cutting has reached 18 million acres, up from just over a half-million acres in the 1980's. So is palm oil a natural product? Yes. But it's not a particularly healthy one, especially not for Mother Nature. You really need to stick with liquid fats like canola and vegetable oils.

You know, the Corn Refiners Association tried to do a nifty end run around the term “high fructose corn syrup” when that term came under increased public scrutiny. They wanted the FDA to let them call their product “corn sugar” instead. Somehow, the agency found a couple of vertebrae and said, “No.” But that doesn't seem to be the case with “evaporated cane juice.” You know what “evaporated cane juice” really is? Sugar. Plain old processed, refined, white sugar with an uptown moniker. After raw cane sugar has been boiled down, the leftover crystals are scraped up and processed just a little more, taking out whatever nutritive value they might still possess. The resultant “evaporated” product is then added to things that call themselves “100% natural” or “100% juice.” Yeah, the FDA has sent out a few warning letters, but the manufacturers are still tap dancing. If you don't like the tune, don't buy the product.

“Made with.....”. That's a good one. You see a package that says, “Made With Healthy Stuff!” And then you read the label; the “healthy stuff” for which you bought the product turns out to be the eleventh ingredient in a twelve ingredient list. But it's in there! So the manufacturer can legally say, “made with.”

You're watching your sugar intake, okay? And you spot a product that says “Lightly Sweetened” on the front of the package. That's got to mean less sugar, right? Wrong. The FDA actually regulates the use of “sugar free” and “no added sugars,” but it has nothing whatsoever to say about “low sugar” or “lightly sweetened.” So if a processed food manufacturer's advertising department wants to stick a big “Lightly Sweetened” banner across the face of a product to which ten pounds of sugar or ten pounds of artificial sweeteners has been added, the FDA has to let them do it. But if you read the label, you don't have to buy it.

Face it, folks, ad people are not employed to monitor or improve your health. They are hired to sell products. To that end, they will use any and all tricks of the trade with which they can legally get by. And even then, they often push the limits. They don't care whether or not a product is really “heart-healthy.” As long as nobody calls them on it, they'll say it because they correctly believe you'll buy it. And they'll throw every buzzword in the books at you. “Antioxidants.” “Fiber.” “Polyphenols.” “Whole Grains.” “Doctor Approved.” “Strengthens Your Immune System.” “Light.” “Reduced.” “Free.” I especially like “Gluten Free.” Because a bunch of misinformed celebrities and celebrity-wannabes got the idea that avoiding gluten was a good way to lose weight, they started a fad. And there's nothing marketers like more than a good fad. So they began plastering every blessed thing in the grocery store with “Gluten Free!” labels, even things that couldn't possibly contain gluten in the first place. But if you're a non-Celiac sufferer who thinks that by avoiding gluten you'll be healthier, happier, sexier, thinner, and just a better all-around person because Oprah said so, you'll buy anything that says “Gluten Free.”

I went to nursing school many years ago and among the required courses in the curriculum was a unit on nutrition. I think comprehensive nutrition classes ought to be mandatory at the high school level. Agriculture students are taught to recognize bovine excrement and how to avoid stepping in it. It's a skill I think everybody should learn. It's not enough to just read the label on a food product; you have to understand what you're reading. For instance, anything that ends in “ose” is a sugar. If you are an educated consumer and you see “low sugar” advertised on a package and then find the ingredient label of said “low sugar” product to be full of maltose, sucrose, dextrose, glucose, etc., you'll recognize bovine excrement and avoid stepping in it.

Here's the takeaway in three simple statements: Read the label, understand what you're reading, and remember, manufacturers of processed foods, their advertising agencies, and their paid politicians are not your friends.

Review: Galleria Umberto Rosticceria, Boston, Massachusetts

“Umberto's Is A North End Institution”

So, I'm on Hanover Street in Boston's North End and I'm getting a little hungry. From where I'm standing I can see signs for about a thousand Italian restaurants and one Chinese place. Where to go, where to go? When in doubt, ask a local, so I popped into a little bottega and did just that.

There were two very friendly and helpful people behind the counter. As the rest of my party looked over the wines on display, I asked for a lunch recommendation. I knew about nearby Bricco and some of the other higher-end places, so my parameters were simple; good, authentic, and cheap. I inquired about a place whose sign I had seen pointing to a location on another block. “Well, I hate to say anything bad........but I wouldn't eat there.” Okay. Good enough for me. “The place right across the street is good,” one of the clerks said, “but I'm not sure if they're still open for lunch.” There was some window peering as everybody tried to see if anybody was in the place. “You could try Umberto's,” the other clerk interjected. “They're open for lunch, but they only serve until they run out of food.” That sounded intriguing. The first employee immediately jumped on the bandwagon. “Oh, yes! Umberto's! I ate there the other day. In fact, I eat there several times a week. They're really good and they're really cheap. Umberto's is a North End institution.” 

The clerks enthusiastically described the atmosphere and the food. It was a simple counter-service establishment where you ordered, waited, and took your food to a table – if you could find one. They served pizza and calzone and arancini and you could eat like a pig for less than five dollars. “They're always busy,” I was told. “People start lining up sometimes before they even open their doors.” Okay, I was sold. “Where is it,” I asked? “Just a few doors down. You passed it on your way here.” I didn't remember passing any “Umberto's.” Thanking the pair, I stepped back into the street and looked in the direction indicated. I still didn't see “Umberto's.” We took a few steps, four pair of eyes scanning the forest of Hanover Street signage, but failing to spot anything that said “Umberto's.” Then we realized we were standing right in front of the place. Hanging over a doorway recessed into the brick facade was a simple painted sign of the type common in the 1950s and '60s. Over a big “Coca-Cola” logo, it read, "Galleria Umberto Rosticceria." Apparently, we had arrived.

I was a bit confused. I've always thought that a “rosticceria” was a place that specializes in roasting meats. You can find chickens, ducks, rabbits, and other birds and small game slowing roasting on hand-turned or mechanical spits in such places, but not pizze and calzoni. And to an extent, this is true. But a Neapolitan friend of mine assured me that for such establishments to serve lighter fare, like pizza and calzone, is not at all uncommon in many parts of Italy. At any rate, we ventured inside. The place was absolutely slammed. My wife and daughter-in-law hurried to stake out one of the two available tables while my son and I braved the line.

As promised, the menu was quite simple; I can print the whole thing right here: Pizza, Panini, Pizzette, Panzarotti, Arancini, Calzone Spinach, Calzone Spinach & Cheese, Calzone Spinach, Sausage & Cheese, Calzone Ricotta, Ham & Salami, beer, wine, soda and bottled water. That's it. And it was, indeed, cheap. The day I was there, slices were selling for $1.65. You get slices, by the way. No ordering a whole pie here. And it's Sicilian pizza. Given my Neapolitan pizza prejudice, that was a little unexpected. But, man, was it good! 

A quick note on the difference: Neapolitan pizza – originating in Naples – is round and thin-crusted. It's what most Americans think of when they think of “regular” pizza. Originating in Sicily, Sicilian pizza is thicker-crusted and rectangular. Sicilian pizza is often called “sfincione” or “sfinciuni” in the Sicilian dialect. There are tons of subtle differences in preparation and taste, but crust and shape are the most obvious ones.

The pizza at Umberto comes out on whole sheet pans. They bring it out of the kitchen and slap it on the counter. The counter guy cuts it up and transfers slices to paper plates. There's nothing fancy or elegant about it. And don't be looking for pepperoni and sausage and onions and peppers. There's no “meat lovers” here, no “supreme.” In the Umberto kitchen, they layer a thick, yeasty crust with a sweet tomato sauce, pile on the cheese and bake it until the bottom crisps and the top bubbles and turns golden brown. The pan hits the counter, the slice hits the plate, and your taste buds hit the heavens.

I make arancini all the time. When I make them, they are golf ball-size and I stuff them with a little smoked mozzarella and maybe some ham. The arancini at Galleria Umberto are the size of tennis balls and they are filled with cheese, ground beef, tomato sauce, and peas. One arancino is a meal. My wife was unable to finish hers because she also had a slice of pizza. But it was cooked to perfection. It's easy to get a heavy, greasy arancino. There wasn't a hint of greasiness here and the crispy, light texture on the outside combined with the soft, creamy interior to create a delightful ball of flavor. The peas added a pop of sweetness to the cheesy, meaty goodness. Un piatto perfetto! 

My daughter-in-law waffled a bit between pizza and calzone. She was concerned because many places make a calzone the size of a dinner plate. The ones at Umberto were a good size; big and hearty without being OMG oversized. She bravely confronted her spinach and cheese calzone and won the battle, commenting on the nice balance of spinach to cheese. Often there can be an overload of cheese that totally overpowers the spinach. That was not the case here. Another delightful dish.

My son and I each devoured two slices of pizza. Normally, this is not much of an accomplishment for either of us; at Galleria Umberto, it was. The square slices were thick, saucy, cheesy and very rich and filling.

In retrospect, I wish I had opted for a single slice of pizza and gone for some panzarotti. I saw some on other plates and they looked like cheese-stuffed potato croquettes on steroids. Definitely going there next time.

There are no dessert offerings at Galleria Umberto, but, hey, it's the North End. Mike's Pastry is across the street, and there are dozens of other places doling out gelati and cannoli only steps away.

Standing in line for about fifteen minutes, I had a chance to observe the ballet that is service at Galleria Umberto Rosticceria. The people behind the counter are amazing. Italian and English switch back and forth as workers glide in and out of the service dance with practiced ease. It's obvious some of them have been doing this for a very long time. It's equally obvious that they all enjoy what they are doing. Smiles are everywhere. Regulars get hugs and pats on the back. Even first time patrons are made to feel like regulars. It's very much like a little bit of Italy in Boston's Little Italy.

Don't judge the book by its cover. Compared to the shiny new chain pizzerias that are customarily found in most American cities today, Galleria Umberto appears a bit dingy and dated. Old wall murals, dim lighting, no-frills tables and chairs. It's a place that a lot of fussy, prissy people would turn and walk out of. And they'd be missing out on an extraordinary culinary experience. This unprepossessing little place has won a bunch of awards. They were named “Best Pizza Place in the Boston Area” in 2006 and food writer Adam Richman included them on his 2009 list of Top 25 Pizzas in the US. They also regularly make Zagat's list of Best Pizza in Boston. Zagat also rates Galleria Umberto among the Best Child-Friendly Restaurants in Boston.

Galleria Umberto Rosticceria is located at 289 Hanover Street. They open at 11 a.m. and close when they run out of prepared pizza dough. Seriously. The dough seemed to be holding out pretty well when we were there just after 1 p.m., but when we walked by a little later in the afternoon, the place was already closed. The locals start lining up around 10:30. Probably a good idea to plan on an early lunch. Obviously, reservations are neither required or accepted and dress is casual. As for parking, well......it's the North End, folks. Good luck. One important word of caution: bring cash! Galleria Umberto is a cash-only establishment and there is no ATM on premises. They don't have a Web presence, but you can call Galleria Umberto Rosticceria at (617) 227-5709.

So You Want Great Pizza at Home? DIY! It's Easy

I've written a lot about pizza over the years. I've reviewed Italian restaurants and pizzerias and I've commented on chain pizza places. But I don't think I've ever discussed my favorite pizza – the one I make at home.

Pizza is one of America's most popular foods. According to sources who know such things, pizza is a $30 to $40 billion business. Statisticbrain.com says there are 70,000 pizzerias in the United States and that the average American eats 46 slices a year. They estimate that 93% of Americans eat at least one slice of pizza a month.

Most of that consumption goes on in the aforementioned chain restaurants; Pizza Hut, Papa John's, Domino's, Little Caesar's, etc. Places I generally avoid like the plague. Comparing the product that comes out of these places to real pizza is like comparing my riding lawn mower to a Ferrari; some of the components are the same, but that's where the resemblance ends.

There are also a gazillion little “mom & pop” pizzerias dotting the American foodscape; roughly 65% of that 70,000 figure I quoted. Such places account for the next biggest slice of the overall pie. They can be a real crap shoot, though, ranging in quality from an ecstatic “Oh My God!” to a horrified “Oh My God!” (You supply the appropriate inflection.)

Most of the rest of the pizza eaten by Americans comes courtesy of the grocer's freezer. I don't care what the ad people say, anybody with two working taste buds can tell the difference between delivery and DiGiorno. Not that DiGiorno is entirely bad. It's actually pretty good for something made with ingredients like sodium stearoyl lactylate, sodium aluminum phosphate and datem, which is short for diacetyl tartaric acid esters of monoglycerides. Personally, I don't use those things in my pizza, but to each his own. You know, I once forgot to take a frozen pizza off the cardboard before I put in the oven; the difference after it was cooked was not immediately apparent.

Then there's a teeny, tiny contingent of “homemade” pizzas that come in a box with Chef Boyardee's picture on it. I had one such “homemade” pizza, prepared by a well-meaning girlfriend about forty years ago. We broke up soon after.

All these things represent the prevailing form of worship in the American Cult of Culinary Convenience. Anything you can pick up on the way home and throw in the microwave is a gift from the gods. But making delicious pizza at home from scratch...is.....just.....not.....that.....difficult. And it is infinitely better than anything you'll bring home from anywhere but the finest authentic pizzeria.

Let's talk equipment. If you really want the best homemade pizza ever, go out and drop a few thousand on a brick oven for your backyard. If you don't have a few thousand (or a backyard), spend thirty or forty bucks on a good pizza stone. If you're really cheap.....er......thrifty, you can go down to the home improvement place and pick up a few unglazed tiles for about two bucks each. But really, just spring for the stone, okay?

Now you want something with which you can transport the pizza into and out of the oven. Those long paddle things are called “peels,” and you can find them just about anywhere that sells kitchen stuff. Some people like a traditional wooden peel and some prefer metal. I'm easy; I have both. They cost me about $15 each. If you don't want to spend that kind of money, just use a rimless cookie sheet.

My pizza recipe calls for the crust to be docked before baking. Docking is procedure commonly done with pie crusts to keep steam pockets from forming and puffing up the crust. You do it by poking little holes randomly over the surface. They sell a docker made just for this purpose, but I have something equally good and much less expensive; I call it a fork.

I suppose a pizza cutting device of some sort would also be handy. You can use a rotary type or a mezzaluna. I think you know what a rotary pizza cutter looks like. A mezzaluna is a long, curved blade with a wooden handle that runs along the top. You see them in pizza places all the time. I have both at home, but once, when stranded in the wilds of a friend's ill-equipped kitchen, I managed to tame the beast with a sharp knife.

A pizza is ridiculously simple to assemble. It's a three-part process; crust, sauce, and toppings. We'll start with the crust. You can buy pre-made, prepackaged crusts in the grocery store. Don't. You can buy pizza dough all neatly rolled up in a cardboard tube in your grocer's dairy case. Please don't. You can also by a ball of fresh pizza dough, usually in the bakery or deli area. Wimp. Buy this if you must, but it's just not that hard to make fresh dough at home. Hold that thought; I'll come back to it.

I'm going to tell you that fresh-made pizza sauce is your best option and that it's really simple to make. Then I'm going to tell you that store-bought sauce is okay. I use both, depending on what I have on hand.

Finally, toppings. Real, authentic pizza is not a dumping ground for anything that happens to be in the refrigerator. If you want to turn out a great pizza at home, keep it simple. One or two toppings. Maybe three. But putting four kinds of meat and six kinds of cheese and eight kinds of vegetables on a homemade pizza is a recipe for a soggy disaster.

A quick word about cheese. Some people like to blend different cheeses, and that's great. I do it all the time. Parmesan, Romano, Asiago.....your choice, as long as you don't overdo it. But Pizza 101 begins with mozzarella, and for making pizza, the pre-shredded stuff is actually pretty good. Only for pizza. I use fresh mozzarella for everything else, but mozzarella fresca can be a little watery and that can really mess up your pizza. If you want the best flavor, use the best cheese – the fresh stuff – but make sure it's really dry before you top your pie with it. Otherwise, the shredded stuff is acceptable. My Italian friends in the pizza business buy mozzarella in five-pound blocks and shred it in house. I buy mine pre-shredded in five pound bags at my restaurant supply store or at Sam's Club. Divide it into one-pound packages, throw it in the freezer, and use as needed.

One thing that ties all of the above together is quality. You're not going to get a top quality pizza with bottom shelf grocery store ingredients. Spend a little extra on the good stuff. It will pay off when you pull it out of the oven.

Okay, nitty-gritty time. Here's how to make all the above into a fantastic homemade pizza. I've tried a dozen different pizza dough recipes. I've used all kinds of flour, including the prized Italian “00” and I've tried many permutations of added ingredients, but this one has been my “go to” recipe for years. It's fast, simple, and the ingredients are easy to find. Here's what you'll need:

1 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1/2 cup bread flour
2 tsp yeast
3/4 tsp salt

3/4 cup warm water (110° to 115°)

drizzle of olive oil

I use King Arthur flour for everything. It's a little more expensive, but you get what you pay for. And my yeast of choice is Fleischmann's Instant Dry. If you plan on making pizza as a regular thing, don't waste your money on the little packets. Restaurant supply stores and places like Sam's sell one-pound packages of yeast for about the same as you'd pay for a couple of strips of the packets. Refrigerated in an air-tight container, it'll keep for about a year.

Now, here's what you do. In a large mixing bowl, combine the flour, the yeast, and the salt. Stir in the water and drizzle in the olive oil until it's all blended evenly and the dough comes away from the side of the bowl. Turn it out onto a lightly floured surface and knead it until it becomes smooth and elastic, about 5 minutes. Shape the dough into a ball, place it in a lightly greased bowl (I use olive oil) and turn it so all sides get a little coating of oil. Then cover the bowl with a damp kitchen towel or with greased plastic wrap and let the dough rest for 20 to 30 minutes.

You can also do this in a stand mixer or a food processor. If I'm only making a couple of pizzas, I do it by hand. If I'm making a bunch of pizzas, I use the food processor. Same procedure; mix all the ingredients as before, dry ingredients in first, then start the machine and add the wet. Use the dough blade and the dough cycle on your machine. When the dough starts to ball up around the blade shaft, it's ready. Take it out and proceed as directed.

If you're going to make your pizza right away, you should put the stone on the bottom rack of your oven and start the oven preheating to 500° while you assemble the pizza. That stone needs to heat for at least 30 minutes in order for it to do any good.

Now you figure out how many pizzas you're going to make and divide the dough accordingly. This recipe yields enough dough for 1 large (16-inch), 2 medium (10-inch), or 4 small (6-inch) pizzas. And these will be thin crust pizzas, by the way. If you want a thicker crust, adjust the way you divide the dough.

I use the traditional press method for shaping my pizzas. Working on a lightly floured surface, press down on the dough ball with your fingertips and shape it into a small, flat disk. Working outward from the center, push the dough while spreading it with your fingers to make the disk larger. Turn the disk by quarter turns as you spread it until a circle starts to form. Pick up the circle of dough and rotate it by the edges, allowing gravity to pull it into the desired size. Don't worry if it's not a perfect circle. And if it tears a little, just patch it up. It'll be fine. You want it to be about the same thickness from the center out to the edges, where you'll build your cornicione. That's the Italian term for the thick outer rim of crust. Impress your friends with that one. You don't have to have a defined edge, but it's prettier and easier to eat that way. Just pinch the dough around the edges into a slightly raised ridge.

Don't worry about looking like a pizzaiolo. All that tossing and throwing the crust in the air is great for show, but my method is the one used by most real pizza makers. And don't you get anywhere near this dough with a rolling pin. You'll turn it into a dense, chewy cracker.

Here's my cheat: I have about a dozen inexpensive pizza pans in my kitchen. Got 'em for a buck apiece at Walmart. I lay down a light coating of olive oil on the surface of a pan and put my prepared dough ball in the center. Then I press it out, using the pan to help develop the shape and thickness. I press and rotate the dough the same way, I just do it right in the pan. Then I crimp up the edges and I have a nice looking crust that's ready for the next step.

Now you have some choices to make: to par-bake or not, to dock or not, to flavor the crust or not. Par-baking a crust means to put it in the oven for just a few minutes to give the crust a little form and structure. I do it this way because I'm usually making more than one pizza at a time and it just makes the process go smoother. If you par-bake, you should probably dock. Unless you want big air bubbles in your crust. Some people do. Otherwise, just take a fork and poke holes in the crust. I do mine in nice straight lines so it looks like I used a fancy docker. Now you're ready for the oven. If you use my pizza pan trick, you're good to go. Just toss the pan with the prepared crust in the oven for a few minutes, 3 or 4 at the most, pull it out, let it cool for a minute, then flip the pan over and the formed crust should fall right out. If you're not par-baking and are building your pizza right on the peel, you should lightly dust the peel with some corn meal and work the dough around a little bit to make sure it will slide easily off the peel and into the oven.

Here's where you can add a little flavor to your crust if you want to. I sometimes rub mine with garlic. Not always, because not everybody likes a garlic crust. But if you do, just cut the end off a clove of garlic and rub it lightly over the surface of the crust. You can also add a light coating of olive oil. Totally optional. I do it, but you don't have to. If you're not par-baking, you can just sprinkle a little minced garlic or some granulated garlic over the dough, or you can make a garlic-infused olive oil. That's another reason I par-bake; easier to flavor the crust.

On to the sauce! I'm going to give you a super simple fresh pizza sauce recipe. It's really good and it's really easy, but, as I said, you can also use prepared pizza sauce. You won't hurt my feelings. Here's the recipe:

1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 clove garlic, finely chopped
4 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1 (28 oz) can San Marzano tomatoes, pureed
4 or 5 fresh basil leaves, torn or a pinch of dried basil
Salt

In a large saucepan, heat the olive oil and add the onions. Sautè for 2 or 3 minutes, then add the garlic. Cook for another minute. Add the pureed tomatoes and simmer over low to medium heat for 10 minutes. Salt to season. If you use dried basil, add it when you add the tomatoes. If you use fresh basil, add it in the last minute or two of cooking.

I don't use anything but San Marzano tomatoes for my sauces. That's just me.......and about a million other Italian cooks. You can use any good quality canned tomato for this recipe, but try to find San Marzanos if you can.

Okay, time to sauce the pizza. Don't go crazy with the sauce. A good pizza is all about balance. A thin crust that's crisp on the outside and a little chewy inside combined with a light dressing of sauce and a moderate topping of cheese is pizza perfection. You can taste each individual component of the pizza. That's the way it should be. When you ladle sauce and shovel toppings onto a half-soggy crust......you get chain store pizza! Sorry. I got carried away. Just spoon a couple of tablespoons of your sauce into the center of the prepared crust and, using the bowl of the spoon, spread it out in circles until it reaches the edge. Add more if you think you need it. If you can't see the crust anymore, you've overdone it. You can add a little more flavor at this point. Sprinkle in a pinch of dried oregano as you work the sauce.

Finally, it's time to top. Again, less is more. You may think a pound of cheese and a pound of pepperoni is going to be great, but it's really not. Start out slow. As you get more practiced, you'll figure out ratios and balances a little better, but if you ruin your first attempt, you probably won't make another one. And that would mean I wrote all this for nothing. If you're using fresh mozzarella that you've thinly sliced from a ball, bravo! Just make sure it's good and dry before you layer it on. If you're using shredded mozzarella from a bag, start by putting a light layer over the entire surface, then go back and fill in the holes as needed. Here's where you might add in Parmesan or Asiago or something. Moderately. A little extra cheese is good; a lot of extra cheese can be soggy and greasy.

Now we hit the oven. If you've built your pizza on a peel and remembered to use some corn meal under the crust, it should slide off the peel without a lot of fuss. If you've par-baked your crust, there's no sweat. It'll slide. Use your wrist to shake the peel until the pizza slides off onto the VERY HOT surface of the pizza stone. If you're used to heating up frozen pizza, you're in for a surprise. Don't walk off and go watch something on TV for fifteen or twenty minutes. You'll come back to charcoal. With the oven cranked up to 500°, the combination of radiant heat emanating from the stone and the conduction or convection circulating within the enclosed space will cook your fresh pizza in just a few minutes. You should probably start checking it after five minutes. It likely won't take more than eight, depending on the efficiency of your oven. Slide the peel back under it, pull it out, all bubbly golden brown and delicious, let it cool for a minute, then employ your cutting device and cominciare a mangiare.

Here's another quick trick: make up a big batch of dough and prep a bunch of par-baked crusts. Separate them with wax paper and wrap them in plastic. Stick the stack of separated and wrapped crusts in a large freezer bag and toss them in the freezer. You want pizza on the fly? Grab a crust out of the freezer, open a jar or packet of sauce, throw some cheese and whatever else at it and stick it in the oven. In less time than it would take for carryout or delivery.....or even to unwrap and heat a frozen pizza......you can have it fresh, delicious, and homemade right from your oven. It really is that easy.

Better ingredients, better pizza? Forget Papa John! Delivery or DiGiorno? How about neither? Do it yourself. You will never go back to somebody else's mediocre pizza again.

The Low Fat/No Fat Fad: Not Always the Best Diet Option

For many years now, fat has been a four-letter word among the weight conscious. As a result, generations of consumers have tried to reduce their waistlines by rejecting fat and scarfing up copious quantities of skim milk, low fat yogurt, reduced fat snacks, and a host of other so-called “light” food products. My mother was one of those waistline warriors.

Bless my poor mother. She battled with her weight for years. She was a small woman, not even reaching five feet in height, and even though she topped out at 120 at her absolute bulkiest, she still felt the need to reduce. She joined Weight Watchers once. After a short time, they gave her her lifetime member pin and recommended she quit. She had hit 90 pounds and was still dropping. It was kind of like, “Congratulations! Now go eat a bowl of ice cream.” After she left Weight Watchers, she started watching her weight her own way, a way influenced by the advertised junk science fad of the day; she set out to absolutely, positively, irrevocably eliminate any and all traces of any sort of fat in her diet. Oh, she kept the weight off for the most part, bouncing up and down by five or so pounds, but it was a real struggle for someone who once enjoyed eating anything and everything. Fueled by the over zealous advertising with which she was bombarded, she convinced herself that fat was the enemy and spent the last fifteen or twenty years of her life eating things that probably had less flavor than the boxes in which they were packaged. And they were likely worse for her overall health.

Ask any chef: there's flavor in fat. Beyond that, there are certain things for which fat is necessary in the human diet. You have to have some fat in order for your body to work. Yeah, fat pads your hips and makes your belly hang out, but it also carries essential nutrients to the places they need to go. Brain tissue is rich in fat and a component in myelin, the fatty material that sheathes nerve cells, allows your nervous system to function properly. Despite what the pushers of low fat/no fat products would have you believe, you simply can't eliminate fat from your diet.

Mom fell victim to a lot of slick advertising. You can't walk through a grocery store these days without being assailed from all sides by the words “fat-free,” “low-fat,” “non-fat,” “reduced fat,” and “light.” Theoretically, there are standards that are supposed to govern the use of such terms. “Fat-free” and “non-fat” foods are supposed to have less that 0.5 grams of fat per serving. “Low-fat” has to have less than 3 grams, while “reduced fat” is supposed to be 25% lower in fat than the regular product, and “light” should have either 1/3 fewer calories or 50% less fat.

In reality, most of these products taste somewhere between bland and nasty, because – say it with me – “there's flavor in fat.” And when you remove significant amounts of fat, you also remove significant amounts of flavor. Ahhh, but the chemists and scientists who work tirelessly to meet your demand for healthier fat-free products have a solution: sugar, salt, and artificial flavorings. If you dump enough of that stuff into something from which you have removed the fat, you can actually make it taste pretty good. Lethal, maybe, but good.

Mom had a tremendous sweet tooth and when she began her personal battle of the bulge, she tried to satisfy it with cardboard cookies. No more regular chocolate chip or crème sandwich cookies. Nope. Had to be “low-fat.” You know what? A national brand of reduced fat vanilla sandwich cookies does indeed have less fat than a nationally advertised “regular” vanilla sandwich cookie. In a four cookie serving of the “reduced” brand, there are only 3 grams of total fat compared to 5 grams in the regular cookies. But the regular cookies contain a mere 65 mg of sodium as opposed to a whopping 154 mg in the “healthy” alternative. Healthy?

I don't care much about sweets; candies, cookies, cakes, pies......I can take them or leave them, and I usually leave them. But I do love potato chips. They are my snack passion and my diet downfall. So I thought about a “healthy” alternative: low-fat baked chips. Oh, baby! The calories and the fat content don't even compare. There are 154 calories in an ounce of regular chips and only 120 in the baked variety. Wow! That means I can eat more of the “healthy” ones, right? Especially when you consider the total fat breakdown: 10g for regular chips and a measly 3g for the “healthy” ones. And they're both zero cholesterol and they both have the same amount of protein. Man, am I gonna be healthier and skinnier! Wait......what do you mean, “look at the sodium?” Eeewwww! Only 136 mg in the regular chips and 210 mg in the “healthy” ones. Ooops. Oh, no......and look at the sugar; 0 grams of sugar in regular chips and 3 grams in the baked kind. 14 grams of carbohydrates for regular chips and 21 grams for baked? That can't be right! They're supposed to be healthy! All the TV commercials say so! And there's no potassium in the baked chips. None. But there's 361 mg of the stuff in the “unhealthy” ones. What gives?

Actually, I really like Utz potato chips. Three big reasons; they taste good, they have way less sodium (95 mg) than most “regular” chips, and I can practice portion control. See, I'm one of those sad individuals that, if you give me a bag of potato chips and a thirty minute TV show, I'll eat the whole bag within the thirty minutes. The restaurant supply store where I shop sells me a case of sixty 1-ounce, single-serving bags for about the same price as four of the regular 10-ounce bags at the grocery store. So when I sit down with a whole bag, it's only a 1-ounce bag instead of a 10-ounce bag. Yeah, I'm getting a little more fat and a few more calories per serving, but far and away less salt and sugar. And some potassium to boot. And I'm only consuming one serving instead of ten.

My mom was born in Vermont and grew up in Wisconsin. Dairy country. But I guarantee she never saw a low-fat or fat-free dairy product at any point in the first half of her life. Especially that flavorless white-colored water, a.k.a. “skim milk,” with which she punished herself in the latter half. That's because prior to WWII, skim milk was the byproduct of butter processing and it wasn't sold in stores. It was either dumped in a ditch or distributed to farmers as an animal feed supplement. Dairy producers didn't start bottling this liquid pig slop for human consumption until deluded fat-conscious consumers in the post-war era began demanding it. Then it took off and dragged cheese and yogurt and ice cream with it. Fact is, fat from dairy helps the body absorb nutrients, like the fat-soluble vitamins A and D found in dairy products. The less fat contained in your milk, cheese, etc., the less nutritive value it has. By the time you get down to skim milk.......well, you might as well just add a few drops of milk to color a glass of water. The drum bangers who lead the low-fat band might not want to hear it, but some recent studies indicate that people lose more weight consuming full-fat milk and dairy products than the low-fat stuff. Sure, there's fewer calories and less fat in nonfat yogurt, but there's considerably more sugar. It's not a healthy trade off. And we won't even discuss the artificially sweetened abominations.

You can't fool Mother Nature – at least not for long. Your body needs what it needs and if you don't satisfy it one way, you'll wind up catering to it another way, usually a less healthy way. For instance, research shows that skim milk drinkers do absorb less fat, but they often make up the deficit by eating more carbohydrates to provide the necessary energy they require. Drinking skim milk does not mean you get to have six Oreos instead of three. And you know what the difference between a cup of whole milk and a cup of “reduced fat” (2%) milk is? 3.1 grams of fat and 24 calories. Based on an RDI of 65 grams of fat and 2,000 calories, are you really going to sweat over 3 grams and 24 calories? Unless you're guzzling the stuff by the gallon, it's just not that big an impact for what you're giving up. I'll even give you points for 2% milk, but when you start talking 1% or less, you might as well just drink water. It's cheaper and has about the same flavor and nutritive value.

Mom used to love peanut butter. When she started off on her fat fighting crusade, she figured she'd have to give it up. But then she discovered “reduced fat” peanut butter. Woo-hoo! Problem is, the fat found in peanut butter is monounsaturated, the “good” kind of fat that you actually want to have in your diet. And, of course, when they reduce the fat they reduce the flavor and they have to do something to make it taste more like peanut butter, so they up the salt and the sugar and there you are. You've eliminated a healthy fat and replaced it with unhealthy sodium and carbohydrates.

It's the same thing all across the board. You can't remove fat without removing flavor and the best way to add flavor is with salt, sugar, and artificial additives. Don't take my word for it; look at the labels. Pick up a couple of jars of mayonnaise. I have Hellmann's Real mayo in my right hand and Hellmann's Light in my left. There are 11 grams of fat in the Real mayo and only 4.5 in the Light, but the Light contains 115 mg of sodium while the Real has just 80 mg.

I used to know somebody who worked for one of the big food processors. He often said something along the lines of “if you could just see the salt and sugar and artificial crap they put in that fat-free stuff, you'd never let it in your house much less put it in your mouth.”

No matter how you slice it, unless it is a naturally fat-free substance, anything labeled “fat-free,” “low-fat,” “non-fat,” “reduced fat,” or “light” has been chemically processed and engineered to make it that way. And if you think that artificially removing a few grams of fat from your diet and replacing them with loads of salt, sugar, and chemicals is going to make you healthier, you're sadly mistaken. The only way to safely and effectively reduce the amount of fat in your diet is through moderation and a balanced consumption of natural non-processed foods.

One more thing that pushes my buttons: people who buy “light” olive oil as a means of losing weight. Okay, any decent fat fighting fanatic these days will tell you that the road to hell is slathered in butter and greased with cooking oil and that olive oil is the lipid least likely to lubricate your slide into an early grave. And this is somewhat true. But if olive oil is good, then “light” olive oil must be better, right? Absolutely not. Sorry, fat fighters, but when it comes to calorie counts, oil is oil. A tablespoon of any kind of oil is going to contain about 120 calories. It's the chemical makeup of the oil, not the difference of three calories per tablespoon, that makes olive oil “healthier” than, say, corn oil. It's the saturated, monounsaturated, polyunsaturated fat content of the oils that determine how “healthy” they are – and even the conventional wisdom there has come under fire in recent studies. In any case, “light” olive oil is not light in fat and will not help you lose the love handles any faster than “unlight” olive oil. “Light” olive oil is processed to remove most of its natural flavor, making it “light” tasting, but having nothing whatsoever to do with its fat content. If you're buying “light” olive oil for its lack of flavor, go for it. If you're buying it because you think it's “lighter” than other oils, you're wasting your money.

Fat is not intrinsically evil; overindulgence in fat – or any substance – is where the evil lies. Monitoring your intake and balancing your diet are the keys to good health, not developing an unhealthy dependence on chemically altered food-like substances. Don't be a sheep led to graze in a toxic pasture by misleading advertising and popular diet fads. Think for yourself. Read labels. Study ingredients. Learn about nutrition. Utilize the fatty matter between your ears to manage the fatty matter around your waist. You'll be far more satisfied eating smaller, balanced amounts of flavorful real food than you ever will be consuming bland, artificially flavored, processed crap, no matter how appealing slick marketers make that crap sound.

Get real. Eat real.

Air: Necessary for Life but Lousy for Freshness

I went to my grocer's deli for some sandwich meat and cheese the other day. The girl behind the counter was new. One of the ways I could tell was that when she handed me my packages of sliced ham and Swiss cheese, they looked like little balloons. I opened a corner of each bag and let out all the air while politely explaining to her that air and freshness were not friends. She said, “Oh, I didn't know that.” A lot of people don't.

You and I would turn up our toes pretty quickly without a supply of air. Same thing is true of the little microscopic critters that cause our food to spoil. Not all of them. Some bacteria are anaerobic, meaning they don't need air in order to survive and reproduce. Some – called facultative anaerobes – go both ways. But the little nasties that cause most food spoilage are happiest when they have a lot of air to breathe. That's why you want to give them as little as possible.

Among the many elements that assault our fresh foods in an effort to stale and spoil them, air is the biggest offender. Some foods don't like heat, others have an aversion to cold, some spoil with exposure to moisture, and some don't much care for light. But practically none of them like air. Air carries unpleasant flavors and odors to some things; it removes necessary moisture from or adds unnecessary moisture to others; it causes browning through oxidization; it makes some foods go rancid. Air acts differently on different substances but detrimentally on just about all of them.

Now wait, you say. If that's true, then why are a lot of foods, like potato chips, packaged in bags that are full of air? Well, it's not really air in there, at least not in the traditional sense. Regular air is 78% nitrogen, 21% oxygen, and 1% other inert gases. Without going into a lot of complicated chemistry, it's primarily the oxygen that causes things to go stale, so food manufacturers counter this problem by replacing the common “air” in the bag with a custom mix that has a heavier concentration of nitrogen. Try opening a nice fresh bag of chips and letting that blend of gases out. Then close the bag back up with lots of good old regular air trapped inside there and see how long the chips stay fresh. Some poor clueless individual has even mounted an online petition demanding that manufacturers stop putting air in potato chip bags. Believe me, you really don't want that to happen.

Foods that contain fats and oils – like potato chips, for example – are prone to oxidative spoilage. Oxygen causes a chemical change in fats. The short chain carbon compounds that result from these changes are acrid, nasty, and really unpalatable. Ever bite into a really stale potato chip? Yuck.

Butter is another good example of this process. If you have two working taste buds in your mouth, you can tell when butter has gone rancid or “bad.” Many people mistakenly think that temperature is the culprit, but it's really air. Temperature does play a part when it comes to long term storage. Cold retards bacterial growth. That's why you keep butter in the refrigerator or freezer. But who wants to spread rock hard butter on soft bread? So you leave a stick out on the counter and it goes “bad” before you know it. Because it needs to be kept cold, right? Not so much. It needs to be kept away from exposure to the oxidizing agents in air. You have to keep it in an airtight environment. A butter dish – especially a pretty glass one – is generally not going to do it. Some form of butter crock – often marketed under the name “Butter Bell” – is the answer. It's a two-part ceramic contraption; the butter goes in the top and an inch or two of water goes in the bottom. When the top is inserted into the bottom, the water forms an airtight seal and your butter will stay nice and fresh for several weeks without refrigeration. That's how they did it before refrigerators and the method still works.

Obviously, the best way to get rid of air is through a vacuum seal of some sort. Most foods that can be affected by microbial growth are sold in vacuum sealed packages. Many of them are in resealable packaging. Now, once a vacuum pack has been opened, you'll never get the same preservative effect unless you have a vacuum sealer of your own. But even resealable packaging is useless if you don't get out as much air as possible when you close up the package. If you zip open a fresh package of sandwich meat, take out a few slices, and then close it back up with a lot of air in it, the meat will spoil more quickly than if you take the extra few seconds required to press all the air out before you seal the package. Same thing applies to anything that was factory sealed when you bought it. Meats, cheeses, breakfast cereals, cookies, crackers, snack foods – in order for it to stay fresher longer, you've got to get that air out of there. It doesn't matter if you fold over the top or slide the zipper or press down the little seal strips if you've left air in the package. Take the time to press out as much air as possible before you seal the bag. Flatten that sucker. Well.......maybe not with potato chips, but you get the idea. You can at least flatten the top part of the chip bag. If you're really fanatical about removing air, you can take a common drinking straw and stick it in a corner of the bag and suck out the air as you seal the bag. Or you can just press. Like I said, you're not going to get a perfect vacuum seal either way. The point is to get out as much air as you can.

Air is even the culprit in food that goes bad in the freezer. Yep. Freezer burn is caused by air. If you bring home a nice steak and stick it in a bag and throw it in the freezer and come back a week later to find it looking like an ice-crusted shoe sole, it's because you left too much air in the bag.

Moisture evaporates from food at any temperature, even sub-freezing ones. And what facilitates evaporation? Ding, ding, ding! Air. In simple terms, when you've got air in a freezer bag, it gives moisture a place to go. And the water droplets that evaporate into the air trapped in the bag turn into ice crystals and you have freezer burn. The way to prevent such spoilage is to not give the water vapor any place to go. Once again, vacuum packing is the best solution, but just making sure the food is tightly wrapped and that as much air as possible is expressed from the packaging will help. If you open that factory sealed bag of frozen French fries, take a few out, and then just fold over the top and throw the bag back in the freezer, you've just frozen a bag full of air. And you've given the moisture that naturally evaporates from the potatoes a place to go and turn into ice crystals. And the next time you open the bag, it looks like a bag of ice with potatoes sticking out of it. Press that air out of there.

The best way to prevent freezer spoilage is to wrap whatever you're freezing in a tight moisture barrier of some sort – plastic wrap, aluminum foil, freezer paper – and then put the tightly wrapped food in a container from which as much air as possible has been removed. Say you got a great deal on pork chops. Take them out of the store packaging and individually wrap each one as tightly as you can. Then put the wrapped chops in a sealable plastic bag, press the air out, and seal the bag. When you take out a chop or two, remember to press the air out of the bag again before you stick it back in the freezer.

Should you use freezer bags or will regular storage bags work? Both will do the job, but freezer bags will do it a little better because they are made of slightly thicker, more puncture resistant plastic. But in a pinch, any zip top bag will do as long as you've tightly wrapped the food in a moisture barrier and gotten all the air out of the bag.

Food is too expensive to lose to unnecessary spoilage and waste. Such waste can be reduced or eliminated through proper storage, and proper storage begins by being aware of air.