In our inaugural episode, we use the humble and ubiquitous bean to explore historical and current topics in Texas food. Beans here tell stories of belonging, from a 19th-century border dispute to a recent trip to Terlingua.
Welcome to The Range, where you’ll find unexpected stories about Texas foods and cultures. The Range explores the rich variety of Texas foods: from old traditions to new innovations, you’ll hear from a diverse set of Texans who are in the thick of growing, cooking, distributing, and eating food.
Perennials prepare the soil of community for future growth. I read an article yesterday that demonstrates the importance of perennial & old growth: “This man is cloning old-growth redwoods and planting them in safe places”. From the article:
By cloning and replanting them in places where they once thrived but were lost, he is not only increasing their numbers but planting them in locations where they have a better chance of longevity. And the result is two-fold: Save the trees and save the planet (for humankind, at least, the planet will go on with or without us, but you know what I mean). Redwood trees are among the most effective carbon sequestration tools in the world, notes Moving the Giants, “Milarch takes part in a global effort to use one of nature’s most impressive achievements to re-chart a positive course for humanity.”
We can take his concept and create a case for the importance of identifying & supporting the long-term ‘investors’ in local communities. (A group in which I include myself).
For example, Austin is at risk of losing our identity as a sustainable ecosystem because the perennials–those who hold the history and have contributed both money & much more to the ‘soil’ in which the ‘new’ Austin has grown–are uprooting and finding new places to “get involved, stay curious, mentor others, [be the] passionate, compassionate, creative, confident, collaborative, global-minded, risk takers who continue to push up against [the] growing edge and know how to hustle” [source: Meet the Perennials]
We ‘perennials’ have come to Austin–and stayed–for reasons beyond money. Our investment of time is the most valuable and vital for the future of the community. However, without acknowledgement and support for our contributions, we can easily leave and reroot elsewhere, something that’s happening daily. The myth of Austin is powerful, but it’s wearing thin. It is up to us to rewrite the story together.
Best Dang Smokerless Smoked Brisket Ever
Brisket is a pitmaster’s mainstay. But let’s face it, even at the best places, it’s often the least interesting option on the menu—dry, bland, blah. Tired of the ho-hum stuff (and never willing to shy away from a challenge), our kitchen crew set out to make a better brisket, with juicy, smoky meat and a sticky, satisfying bark. Just to up the ante, they decided to develop it without the aid of a smoker, instead testing recipes indoors and using liquid smoke and nitrites to evoke a smoky flavor and signature pink ring at the edge of the meat—both hallmarks of first-rate ’cue.
|This recipe calls for one of our favorite secret ingredients, Bragg’s Liquid Aminos, a gluten-free, non-GMO certified soy sauce alternative..||Liquid Aminos 16 oz. 16 Ounces|
The upshot for you, hungry meat fiends: the best dang barbecue brisket you’ll ever make. What’s more, you can make it in the climate-controlled comfort of your own kitchen. You don’t need a smoker, and you don’t need a lot of space. Heck, you don’t even have to have any prior barbecuing experience to make this thing happen. What you do need: a few easy-to-find ingredients and a big ol’ hunk of meat. Grab some carnivorous buddies—you’re gonna want to show this one off.
Get the recipe at chefsteps.com
No smoker? No problem. Master indoor barbecue with this flavor-packed sous vide brisket.
Robert Lustig is a paediatric endocrinologist at the University of California who specialises in the treatment of childhood obesity. A 90-minute talk he gave in 2009, titled Sugar: The Bitter Truth, has now been viewed more than six million times on YouTube. In it, Lustig argues forcefully that fructose, a form of sugar ubiquitous in modern diets, is a “poison” culpable for America’s obesity epidemic.
A year or so before the video was posted, Lustig gave a similar talk to a conference of biochemists in Adelaide, Australia. Afterwards, a scientist in the audience approached him. Surely, the man said, you’ve read Yudkin. Lustig shook his head. John Yudkin, said the scientist, was a British professor of nutrition who had sounded the alarm on sugar back in 1972, in a book called Pure, White, and Deadly.
“If only a small fraction of what we know about the effects of sugar were to be revealed in relation to any other material used as a food additive,” wrote Yudkin, “that material would promptly be banned.” The book did well, but Yudkin paid a high price for it. Prominent nutritionists combined with the food industry to destroy his reputation, and his career never recovered. He died, in 1995, a disappointed, largely forgotten man.
But it was not impossible to foresee that the vilification of fat might be an error. Energy from food comes to us in three forms: fat, carbohydrate, and protein. Since the proportion of energy we get from protein tends to stay stable, whatever our diet, a low-fat diet effectively means a high-carbohydrate diet. The most versatile and palatable carbohydrate is sugar, which John Yudkin had already circled in red. In 1974, the UK medical journal, the Lancet, sounded a warning about the possible consequences of recommending reductions in dietary fat: “The cure should not be worse than the disease.”
In 1980, after long consultation with some of America’s most senior nutrition scientists, the US government issued its first Dietary Guidelines. The guidelines shaped the diets of hundreds of millions of people. Doctors base their advice on them, food companies develop products to comply with them. Their influence extends beyond the US. In 1983, the UK government issued advice that closely followed the American example.
The most prominent recommendation of both governments was to cut back on saturated fats and cholesterol (this was the first time that the public had been advised to eat less of something, rather than enough of everything). Consumers dutifully obeyed. We replaced steak and sausages with pasta and rice, butter with margarine and vegetable oils, eggs with muesli, and milk with low-fat milk or orange juice. But instead of becoming healthier, we grew fatter and sicker.
The Long Read: In 1972, a British scientist sounded the alarm that sugar – and not fat – was the greatest danger to our health. But his findings were ridiculed and his reputation ruined. How did the world’s top nutrition scientists get it so wrong for so long?