We have a living-history museum nearby. One of those places with relocated old buildings and re-enactors who take you right back to the 19th century. During one visit, I was in the kitchen of a home churning butter with my daughter and chatting with another visitor, telling her we’d seen a pig-slaughtering pen being built at the village’s teaching farm. The museum, which used to sell its pigs every winter, had decided instead to start butchering them on-site.

I mentioned how, initially, I’d blanched at the idea of a killing pen, imagining a hand-to-hoof struggle and log walls awash in blood. But then the farm interpreter explained the process: how the pen lets individual pigs get comfortable in a small space and lets handlers control the pig’s diet in its final days, until a farmer goes in and quickly kills the pig.

As a vegetarian, I still found the process unsettling, but I could appreciate that it was humane, and that it had its place in teaching about 19th century agriculture. And that’s what I told the woman next to me at the butter churn.

At this point, the interpreter in the kitchen jumped in, telling me that people in the 19th century didn’t have the “luxury” of being vegetarian, and that she regularly has to explain to school groups that early Americans didn’t have the choices we have today. “Kids come through and they say, ‘You shouldn’t eat meat. It’s mean to the animals,’ ” she said. “I tell them, ‘Well, they had to eat animals or their kids would starve.’ ”

Yes, that’s true, I told her, but there’s also a big difference between how early Americans raised (or hunted) and killed their animals, and how most animals are slaughtered today. Perhaps she could mention that from now on as well?

“Oh no,” she said, “you can’t tell that to a kid.”

Hmmm.

We explain it to our vegetarian 8-year-old, and have for years. Surely someone can explain it to an omnivorous 6th grader. Many of these kids watch violent movies. They play violent video games. They engage in mock battle. They know where meat comes from. So tell me again: Why can’t they handle the truth about how most animals are killed for food?

In an era where kids are inundated with factory-farming propaganda from powerful groups like the dairy industry in schools and agribusiness lobbies at state fairs, our best defense is education. If we want to raise food-literate children, if we want them to think critically, to challenge the status quo — to make good choices when we can’t choose for them — we have a responsibility to tell the truth so others don’t co-opt them with fiction.

And how do we do that? For starters, by exposing kids to the kinds of farms and conditions we want to support. Take them to local sustainable farms and involve them in conversations with farmers at local markets. Show them where your meat, milk and eggs come from. Then keep talking. Since Tess was tiny, we’ve talked about the “happy cows” and “happy chickens” that provide our local milk and eggs. The “happy” thing seems trite, I know (really, how do we know they’re happy?), but it’s an effective shorthand for explaining that we get our food from animals who live outside and eat what they’re meant to eat (i.e., grass and bugs).

Of course this works pretty well with milk and eggs. Meat is trickier (since, um, the happiness ends), but even then I think kids are able to appreciate the difference between an animal that lived a good life and was killed humanely, and one that wasn’t. When I wrote about this topic previously, a reader told how she teaches her young son where meat comes from: “I make sure my son knows what animal he’s eating every time I serve meat. (I think, if you do eat meat, serving it on the bone goes a long ways towards bringing home the idea that you’re eating an animal as well.) … We’re teaching them compassion as well as food literacy.”

Picture books can be surprising allies. Some, like Ruby Roth’s “That’s Why We Don’t Eat Animals,” address the issue directly. Roth advocates for vegetarianism (and, I think, does so without judgment), but the book’s strength is how it presents factory farming in an age-appropriate way. Even omnivorous kids get a takeaway.

Then there are books where agriculture themes are secondary, but still effective. One example: In “Louise, the Adventures of a Chicken,” by Kate DiCamillo and Harry Bliss, Louise leaves her farm for adventures abroad. At one point she’s captured and held in a cage with other chickens. She goes all Norma Rae and they break free with a rally cry: “Chickens do not belong in cages. Chickens must roam free.” To this day, it’s a favorite refrain in our house.

And for older kids? Resources abound:

“My Friends at the Farm,” a video from Farm Sanctuary, is billed as the first video “to introduce the realities of factory farming to children as young as 8 years old in an age-appropriate way.” I haven’t seen it yet, but I’ll be getting a copy soon.

Michael Pollan has a young readers edition of “The Omnivore’s Dilemma.” (Click here for an excellent review from then 13-year-old Orren Fox.) And Eric Schlosser has a kids’ version of “Fast Food Nation” called “Chew on This.”

The groundbreaking movie Food Inc. (which I reviewed here) is generally recommended for teens and older, but I know people who’ve shown it to kids as young as 6. Even if your kids are pretty ag savvy, I think it’s a little wonky for that age, and we still haven’t shown it to Tess (though it’s just a matter of time). But only you know whether it’s right for your family. For help deciding, check out these  kid-centric reviews from Common Sense Media and Parent Previews. For high school students, there’s a companion discussion guide from the Center for Ecoliteracy.

In 2010, then 11-year-old Birke Baehr generated epic buzz with this 5-minute TEDx talk, in which he dissects everything that’s wrong with our food system, including factory farming.

“The Meatrix Trilogy” cartoons borrow from “The Matrix” to take on factory-farmed meat, eggs and dairy, and the fast-food industry. It’s animation with some serious ammunition. The Meatrix Interactive 360 is a companion graphic that lets kids roll over images and click for details. The site also includes presentation kits, handouts and other resources for learning more.

Then there’s the now-infamous Chipotle video. When it aired during the Grammys two weeks ago, I loved its back-to-basics farming message. But I questioned (on Spoonfed’s Facebook page) whether the chain should be so self-congratulatory when it’s selectively sustainable. Readers helped me see the bigger picture (thanks, guys), and indeed the commercial has sparked a lot of discussion about factory farming. And that’s a good thing. It’s also entirely kid-friendly. So here you go:

What do you think? How much should we tell children about the dicier side of the food chain? What kinds of conversations have you had with your kids? Any other resources to share?

This post, inspired by another piece I wrote two years ago, is part of Occupy Our Food Supply, a global day of action (today) where advocates on the ground and online are rallying to raise awareness of how industrial agribusiness has co-opted our food system. I’m a twitter abstainer (for now), but if you’re inclined to tweet this post (and thanks if you do), the event’s hashtags are: #F27 and #occupyourfoodsupply.

Spoonfed is on Facebook. You’ll find links to blog posts, news and commentary on raising food-literate kids, questions and comments from readers, voices, viewpoints, the works. Stop by, like the page, chime in, spread the word. (Thanks.)

 This post is linked into Fight Back Fridays.

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A certainty.
Like death and taxes.

Girl Scout cookie season starts early where I live. No sooner had school begun than it was time to prep legions of little girls to peddle cookies with ingredients that no kid should be eating, much less selling. (And just in time for Halloween, too. Yay.) Your council might not start until January or later, but that means there’s still time to rethink the cookies (whether you’re buying or selling). I covered the topic at length (exhaustively?) last season, so rather than repeat myself, I’ll recap below.

I feel the same way now that I did then:  I am not anti-Girl Scouts. I am not anti-cookie. I don’t want to deprive kids of their childhoods. But I am against inferior ingredients. And hypocritical organizations. And practices that force children to sell unhealthful products under the guise of “opportunity” and “tradition.”

And I’m not alone. Last season’s posts generated wide-ranging discussions (here and on Fooducate, which reprinted the first post), with thoughtful insights from Girl Scout supporters, parents and troop leaders, many of whom think it’s time to improve the cookies or find new fundraisers altogether.

It’s good news that the Girl Scouts of the USA is finally addressing concerns about palm oil — a troubling ingredient because its production destroys rainforests and wildlife. And it’s great news that two tenacious Girl Scouts guilted the organization into it. Yet I’m not convinced the announcement is all that significant. “Sustainable” palm oil is questionable, and “pledges” aren’t concrete, so it’s hard to know whether this is anything more than greenwashing. 

But even if it’s legit, even if the Girl Scouts’ pledge leads to reducing or even ditching palm oil in the cookies, what about the rest of the ingredients (here and here)?  That’s the change we really need to see.

(And while we’re at it: Maybe Coca-Cola and Exxon Mobil aren’t the best sponsors for the national Girl Scouts convention, this week in Houston. Just a thought.)

Knock-knock, buy a box?

Those who read last year’s posts might recall that this all began because I pondered whether to let my daughter join a troop even if we had no plans to sell the cookies. Turns out that hasn’t been an issue.  Tess has shown zero interest in Scouts, and we already do lots of fun, enriching things through school and on our own. We’ve also had no trouble not buying the cookies, since no one close to us sells them. I did see a door-to-door Girl Scout this year — the first time in forever. But she skipped my house! I’m guessing it was the “For Sale” sign in the front yard. That, or a neighbor told her not to waste her time knocking on our door. Hmmm.

Now, the recap:

Let’s talk Girl Scout cookies (January 7, 2011)
The first post, in which I ask people to look objectively at the cookies, their ingredients and the mixed messages surrounding the sales. And did you know?  While about 70% of cookie proceeds go to the local council, individual girls and troops keep only 10% to 20% of the price of each box. (The comments on this post are illuminating: on Spoonfed, on Fooducate and on Fooducate’s Facebook page.) An excerpt from the post:

“Oh, there’s no way I’d let her sell them. Our food habits are far from perfect (whatever that means). But I’d feel like a hypocrite. Or a drug dealer. Go on, tell me I’m overreacting. But, seriously, I couldn’t in good conscience let my daughter sell something I believe to be patently unhealthy. (Just as I’m not a fan of donating Girl Scout cookies to food pantries.) And not that I’ve personally tasted one lately, but people tell me the cookies aren’t even that good. Maybe that’s because of ingredient changes. Or maybe because when you eat more real food, you lose your taste for crap. But, no matter. No selling.”

It’s not just a cookie (February 19, 2011)
The follow-up, in which I discuss reaction to the first post (for and against) and tackle the moderation myth. An excerpt:

“People too often confuse activism like this for an anti-treats or anti-fun or other extreme agenda. But this isn’t about never eating sweets or taking away people’s cookies or letting food control your life. And this isn’t just about Girl Scout cookies. This is about holding corporations accountable for ingredients that have no business in our food supply.”

No fooling: Girl Scouts are green and the FDA is making us blue (April 1, 2011)
A what-the-what? about the Scouts’ “Go Green” initiatives. Includes a link to a terrific letter by blogger and Girl Scout leader Jennifer McNichols. An excerpt from Jennifer’s letter:

“To me, Girl Scouts of the USA’s stance sends a frightening message to girls, and that message is the one they already receive on every corporate-sponsored kids’ cartoon and in free teaching materials provided by fast food chains: That ‘making a difference’ is all about thinking small, and keeping it that way, and making the easy choices while putting off the hard ones until it’s too late. Picking up litter and encouraging recycling but never asking where all this waste is coming from and what can be done about it. Getting fresh air and exercise but never examining the food we eat or where it comes from. Running ‘Save the Rainforests’ educational campaigns while selling cookies that contribute to their destruction. You — we — were supposed to be part of the solution, not part of the problem.”

Amen then and amen now.

There is a bright spot amid the latest cookie onslaught: The Girl Scouts recently announced a new locavore badge that encourages girls to explore local food sourcing and cooking. Gotta love that.

Still, I’ll give the last word to a commenter on this story, who suggested that the locavore badge requirements are missing a step: “Bake your own damn cookies.”  

Spoonfed is on Facebook. You’ll find links to blog posts, news and commentary on raising food-literate kids, questions and comments from readers, voices, viewpoints, the works. Stop by, like the page, chime in, spread the word. (Thanks.)

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PBS is showing the movie “Food Inc.” tonight. So I’m pulling out a review I wrote when the movie debuted. Have you seen the film? Planning to watch tonight? Maybe recording it to watch later with your kids? (See more about kid viewing below.)

You’ll never look at food the same way again. I promise. So watch (check your local listings here), then come tell me what you thought.

Food fight

Real food. Whether we grow it or just eat it, here’s my definition: Something that grows in the ground or grazes on it, then is harvested with care and left in as natural a state as possible until it’s consumed. By us. Hopefully with appreciation for where it came from.

I think about this subject a lot. Like all the time, obsessively. And I talk about it, too, which gets mixed reactions. Some friends share my passion. Others wish I would shut up already. The teachers at my daughter’s preschool graciously indulged our practice of supplying our own snacks every day. But the counselors at her summer camp gave blank stares when I suggested that blue ice pops were not real food.

So it’s no surprise that my husband and I found ourselves at a screening of the documentary “Food Inc.,” which showed at the Little Theatre in May as part of the Rochester High Falls International Film Festival. The movie, which has just been released nationwide, argues for a simpler, more transparent and democratic food system — instead of the overly mechanized and subsidized, oligarchic system that has taken its toll on our collective health and the health of the planet.

Thanks to industrialized agriculture, “the way we eat has changed more in the last 50 years than in the previous 10,000,” the food writer Michael Pollan says in the film.

Predictably, there are dark themes: the death of a 2-year-old boy who ate an E. coli-tainted hamburger; farmers intimidated into debt and out of business; chickens bred for breasts so large that the birds can’t stand; a family forced to choose cheap fast food over fresh produce because otherwise they couldn’t afford the father’s (diabetes-related) medicine; and a “hamburger filler” factory where animal parts are sanitized with ammonia and smooshed like fruit roll-ups.

But as people in the audience covered their eyes and cringed, I wanted to shout out for everyone to sit up, look straight ahead and face down the food on their plates. Then, maybe, hopefully, take a deep breath and next time make a different choice.

I’ve been encouraged by the growth of the local-foods movement in western New York, by the rise of so many new farmers’ markets and CSAs (community-supported farms). And by the new crop of idealistic — yet in no way naïve — farmers and producers who’ve embraced our agrarian roots and brought us closer again to food the way it was meant to be eaten.

But if enough of us vote with our forks, even Big Food will play along. With momentum and some loud voices, food policy could shift away from subsidies for monoculture crops like corn and soybeans and toward the development of diverse, sustainable agriculture, making healthy food the norm, no matter your address or paycheck.

Until then? Plant a garden or at least some tomatoes, visit a market, join a CSA, buy pastured meat and dairy, make some jam. And when it hits local theaters, see “Food Inc.” Popcorn optional.

For a little extra inspiration, check out this “Food Inc.” discussion guide from the Center for Ecoliteracy. It’s aimed at high school students, but, as I wrote in a previous post, there’s a case to be made for showing the film even to younger kids. Or at least for talking with them about the issues it raises. We haven’t shown our 7-year-old the movie yet, but we plan to soon. 

Need help deciding whether to let your children watch? Check out these kid-centric reviews from Common Sense Media and Parent Previews.

This post originally appeared on Spoonfed in April 2010, when PBS showed the film in honor of Earth Day.

Spoonfed is on Facebook. You’ll find links to blog posts, news and commentary on raising food-literate kids, questions and comments from readers, voices, viewpoints, the works. Stop by, like the page, chime in, spread the word. (Thanks.)

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Last day of school. Time for a final salute to my daughter’s terrific first-grade teacher. And to all the other teachers who realize that what kids eat — and what they know about food — matters.

But it’s the last couple months, I think, that have been the most remarkable. It’s during this time that Ms. S has been leading a “Sustainable You” unit. OK, a lot of schools and a lot of teachers do healthy-eating units. But you know how that goes: Eat your vegetables. Don’t eat too many sweets. Drink your milk. Not every school food lesson is like that. But a lot of them are.

This one was different. The kids read books about sustainable food and food habits, including the amazing “Hungry Planet: What the World Eats,” which chronicles, in vivid photographs, a week’s worth of groceries for 30 families in 24 countries. They completed worksheets tied to the film “What’s on Your Plate?” that asked kids to “talk about what they eat, where it comes from and why that matters.” We discussed the importance of local agriculture, the differences between whole and processed foods, and why chemical ingredients are bad news.

Mind you, this wasn’t my doing. I helped. I gave Ms. S some ideas and lent her some books. But she started it and ran with it. And, most importantly, she owned it. This wasn’t a PC food unit. She didn’t shy from controversial topics. But she did it with grace and good humor, and no one felt offended or judged or put on the spot.

Then there were the everyday things, like how Ms. S handled food differences and snacks and parties, things I talked about in this post and that we’re discussing again this week on Facebook. Just good stuff that made me grateful for a kindred spirit in the classroom.

The kids finished the unit with a walk to the farmers’ market and through the school garden for some local produce to bake and dehydrate for their Poet Tea, a sort of poetry slam for the grade-school set. And tonight at the school picnic the class will give Ms. S  food-themed gifts to end the year: gift certificates for a local food co-op and two producer-only farmers’ markets, and a classroom copy of “Hungry Planet.” And memories books from the kids. Not food-themed. Just awesome.

Any teacher food stories of your own? Tales from this year? Hopes for next?

Happy summer, all.

Spoonfed is now on Facebook. You’ll find links to blog posts, news and commentary on raising food-literate kids, questions and comments from readers, voices, viewpoints, the works. Stop by, like the page, chime in, spread the word. (Thanks.)

This post is linked into Fight Back Fridays.

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The web is awash in tutorials on natural dyes, including this great simple piece from What’s Cooking with Kids. For more detailed techniques and color effects, check out Martha Stewart and KitchenGardener. Onion skins make gorgeous colors, as shown on these Passover eggs and wrapped eggs.

Green can be tricky, but Kris Bordessa of Attainable Sustainable wrote in Kiwi magazine about using chlorophyll capsules (three capsules to one cup of boiling water). And Melissa Graham of Little Locavores shared in a comment on this Spoonfed post that red wine makes a killer purple. Sparkly, too. But the wine has to be freshly opened, so, you know, get drinking while the kids are dunking.

My contribution to this seasonal fare? An eggsperiment, excerpted from last year’s post, in which I used natural dyes to make fake vs. real more tangible for my daughter:

It’s Easter. Time to color eggs. Why not use fruits and vegetables to dye them naturally? And have a little plant-science lesson on the side? Out came the neon dye tablets leftover from last year. (We dyed. We did not eat.) Then the test tubes from a science kit. Plop, plop, fizz, fizz — oh what a fake color that is.

Me to Tess: “Have you ever seen colors like that in nature?”

Tess: a dutiful grimace and shake of the head.

On to the stove, where we filled pots with eggs, water and various fruits, vegetables and juices. (Here’s where I direct you to folks more kitchen-crafty than me, so you, too, can experience the joy of boiling eggs along with beets and blueberry juice.)

We used brown eggs (instead of the recommended white eggs), so the colors were unpredictable. The beets produced a warm dark brown. Spinach didn’t take at all. The blueberry juice, however, made a deep purple that got a “cool” out of my daughter. And because she really wants pink eggs, we’re going to try another batch with raspberry or pomegranate juice.

As each pot filled with the color of the cooking produce, we talked about how plants have so many beautiful natural colors and how each color represents nutrients our bodies need. With color extracts literally seeping into the water, there was no question at all where they came from, or that we can find all the color we need without putting on a lab coat.

And, at the least, we’ll have chocolate. Because in addition to the additive-free candy I ordered, I’ll be making chocolate bunny pops using this fantastic recipe from Food with Kid Appeal. The ingredients? Coconut butter, coconut oil, raw honey, almond butter, cacao powder, cinnamon, cayenne pepper and sea salt. I haven’t even made them yet, and already I’m addicted.

Are you dyeing eggs? Making treats? Otherwise prepping for visits of the bunny kind?

Spoonfed is now on Facebook. You’ll find links to blog posts, news and commentary on raising food-literate kids, questions and comments from readers, voices, viewpoints, the works. Stop by, like the page, chime in, spread the word. (Thanks.)

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I really shouldn’t post on April Fools’ Day, since the interwebs go a little nuts today. But it’s been a colorful week, so I’m ignoring the date and carrying on.

Which brings me to the news that the FDA, after two days of hearings, has decided to do exactly nothing about artificial colors in our food supply. As anyone who reads or talks to me for two minutes knows, I’ve written a lot about the dangers of petroleum-derived food dyes. And I’ll be writing more about the FDA’s non-decision soon. But, in the meantime, I like Melanie Warner’s take in her Food Fight column, including this bit of optimism: “Perhaps the FDA is hoping that its hearings will generate enough public pressure to nudge food manufacturers to voluntarily start taking food dyes out of their products.”

Speaking of voluntarily removing suspect ingredients: Last I checked, the Girl Scouts were still selling cookies bad for us and the planet. So when a friend sent along an e-mail promoting the Girl Scouts’ “Go Green” products, I did a doubletake. Surely this was a prank from some palm-oil-protesting wiseguy. But no. It’s for real.

You’ll note, however, that the Scouts’ endangered-species patch is not an orangutan. That’s probably no surprise for Madison Vorva and Rhiannon Tomtishen, the two Girl Scouts I’ve mentioned who are campaigning to persuade the Scouts to ditch palm oil because it destroys orangutan habitats.

Kellogg’s, which owns Little Brownie Bakers, one of two companies licensed to make Girl Scout Cookies, last month announced plans to move toward using sustainable palm oil. But it’s hard to take that seriously when there are so many questions about the legitimacy of green palm oil. And when conservation organizations like the National Zoo in Washington, D.C., advocate for avoiding palm oil altogether. (We were pleasantly surprised on a recent trip to see signs in the zoo restaurants explaining why none of the food contains palm oil.) It’s also not clear how, if at all, this move would affect Girl Scout cookies.

But here’s a bright spot: Spoonfed reader Jennifer McNichols, a photographer, blogger and Girl Scout leader from Texas, pointed me to this fantastic open letter she wrote to the Girl Scouts. In it, she recounts her 6-year-old daughter’s decision to sell homemade cookies (48 dozen!) instead of Girl Scout cookies, and split profits evenly between her troop and an orangutan outreach project. Jennifer uses her experience with and belief in the Girl Scouts organization to make a compelling case for why the Scouts should start practicing the values they preach:

“To me, Girl Scouts of the USA’s stance sends a frightening message to girls, and that message is the one they already receive on every corporate-sponsored kids’ cartoon and in free teaching materials provided by fast food chains: That ‘making a difference’ is all about thinking small, and keeping it that way, and making the easy choices while putting off the hard ones until it’s too late. Picking up litter and encouraging recycling but never asking where all this waste is coming from and what can be done about it. Getting fresh air and exercise but never examining the food we eat or where it comes from. Running ‘Save the Rainforests’ educational campaigns while selling cookies that contribute to their destruction. You — we — were supposed to be part of the solution, not part of the problem.”

“Next year’s curriculum is It’s Your Planet — Love It! and I’m not making excuses for you any longer. Those voices you heard over the past few months telling people not to buy Girl Scout cookies are going to be louder next year, and you’re going to have fewer allies ready to argue against them.”

Go, Jennifer! Please read her whole letter and forward it far and wide. It’s a terrific piece.

This post is linked into Fight Back Fridays.

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It’s easy to feel overwhelmed, even paralyzed, by the state of our food system, the adulteration and deception, the sheer insanity of what the food industry wants us to feed our kids. It’s why a lot of people shut down, look away, give up.

Know anybody like that? Been tempted yourself? Watch this.

It’s a just-released TEDx talk from Robyn O’Brien, a former food-industry analyst who founded the non-profit AllergyKids and wrote the 2009 book “The Unhealthy Truth: One mother’s shocking investigation into the dangers of America’s food supply — and what every family can do to protect itself.”

You will be inspired, I promise:

“I realized you can’t make the perfect the enemy of the good. It’s really all about progress, not perfection. … Just as you don’t potty-train a kid overnight and you don’t wean them from a sippy cup overnight, this is a process. It doesn’t happen overnight. But if each and every single one of us does one thing, we have the ability to effect remarkable change.”

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When I wrote a post last month questioning Girl Scout cookies, I didn’t know what to expect. People get touchy about American icons.  Or they get afflicted with “it’s just a cookie” syndrome. But I plowed in anyway. No pain, no gain and all that. And wow. Talk about hitting a nerve. But in a good way. A really good way. That post got people talking and thinking critically and making changes.

Then Fooducate reprinted the piece last week (I tweaked it a bit to add some ingredients lists), and the conversation continued anew. (Check out the comments both on Fooducate and on Fooducate’s Facebook page.) A blog called Lunch Box Mom also tackled the issue (and interviewed me). And the Mama Says blog went into more detail on cookie ingredients.

There were dissenters, to be sure. I was accused of Girl Scout bashing, of robbing little girls of opportunities, of being a whiny, emotionally stunted health nut. Someone told me it was “criminal” that my daughter has never tasted a Girl Scout cookie. Oh, well. The blogosphere is nothing without a little hyperbole. And as I wrote in response to one commenter on the Fooducate post:

“People too often confuse activism like this for an anti-treats or anti-fun or other extreme agenda. But this isn’t about never eating sweets or taking away people’s cookies or letting food control your life. And this isn’t just about Girl Scout cookies. This is about holding corporations accountable for ingredients that have no business in our food supply.”

But most of the discussion has been… thrilling. People are deeply interested in and concerned about both the ingredients in Girl Scout cookies and the mixed messages that cookie sales send. In comments and by e-mail, I’ve heard from people who took a stand, donating money but skipping the cookies (buying and selling). And — importantly — telling troops and councils why they’ve made that decision. Thrilling, I tell you. Thrilling!

I couldn’t help but ponder, then, whether the Girl Scouts’ new “cookie strategy” outlined in this Atlantic article might be a nudge in the right direction. Apparently cookie sales have held steady for the last decade, but there’s also been a large inventory of unsold boxes. So the Girl Scouts are testing a plan to increase profits by offering fewer varieties. Fewer varieties mean fewer recipes to tweak. Could that mean — dare I hope? — that the organization and its bakeries might be open to more substantial ingredient changes? Hmmm.

A case for moderation?

Yet I’ll temper that with a little reality. The article includes excerpts from a Girl Scouts business summary, including this helpful sales tip: “Cookies are a once-a-year treat that should be enjoyed in moderation.” But then, two sentences later: “The newest cookie trend? Buying them by the CASE to help a girl reach her goals.” Sigh. How exactly do these people keep straight faces while talking out of both sides of their mouths?

And that “moderation” thing? Here was my response to a Fooducate commenter:

“The food industry loves it when people justify food choices by claiming ‘everything in moderation’ — because those are the golden words that absolve food makers of responsibility. But the truth is that plenty of ingredients are not OK in moderation, nor do they actually exist in moderation.

“Take artificial colors. A parent might figure, hey, what’s one brightly colored cupcake at a birthday party? But what about the birthday party the next week? And then the lollipop at the bank, and the frosted cookie at Grandma’s, and the candy handed out as a reward at school, and the sports drink at soccer? Not to mention the pickles and marshmallows and tortilla chips and countless other foods that look ‘natural’ but actually also contain petroleum-derived food dyes. When people start realizing what’s in their food, ‘moderation’ loses its appeal.”

But back to the good stuff. In my post last month, I mentioned two Michigan Girl Scouts who, as sixth-graders in 2006, created an alternative fundraiser after learning that the cookies contain palm oil*, which is linked to rainforest destruction and mass orangutan deaths. Those two Scouts, Madison Vorva and Rhiannon Tomtishen, now 15-year-old tenth-graders, have since gotten the support of primatologist Jane Goodall, raised money for orangutan conservation and created campaigns trying to persuade the Girl Scouts to ditch palm oil.

Assembling for a cause

They’ve done a petition and letter writing. And now there’s a puzzle-piece campaign asking past and present Scouts and troop leaders to decorate blank puzzle pieces (provided by the girls) showing why they oppose palm oil. Madi and Rhiannon (whose work was featured in a recent Grist article**) are assembling the pieces and plan to present them to the Girl Scouts’ national office.  Now that’s a Girl Scout project. What a great way to show girls that their voices and values matter.

You can get in touch with Madi and Rhiannon through their Facebook profile or Facebook page. (Note: The Facebook group initially linked to in the Grist article was not in fact affiliated with Madi and Rhiannon, but Grist now has corrected the link.) Or e-mail them directly at saveorangutans137 (at) hotmail (dot) com.

Thoughts on the cookies, activism, teaching our kids that values matter and that they can make a difference?

*The Roundtable on Sustainable Palm Oil was created to standardize practices for growing and sourcing sustainable palm oil. But there’s a lot of caution and controversy surrounding the issue.

**Most coverage of palm oil claims it’s not only environmentally destructive, but also unhealthy. But that’s actually up for serious debate. Palm oil is a mostly saturated fat, and while saturated fat has been demonized over the years, even mainstream science has come around to realizing that was wrong.

This post is linked into Fight Back Fridays.

Copyright protected by Digiprove © 2011 Christina Le Beau

Talking GMOs with my 7-year-old:

Me: “You know how cows eat grass?”

Tess: “Uh, huh.”

Me: “Well, some of that grass is made by scientists instead of by nature.”

Tess: “How do they make it? Do they rip the plant or give it surgery?”

Talking about genes (not jeans)

Me: “Kind of. They put genes from bacteria into the grass cells. You remember what genes and cells are, right?”

Tess: “That’s what’s in living things.” (Followed by a brief detour into the hilarity of cells wearing “jeans.”)

Me: “Right. And when scientists put these weird genes into grass, it doesn’t die when you spray chemicals on it. So it isn’t really like natural grass.”

Tess: “So it grows in, like, funny shapes?”

Me: “Well, no. It looks like regular grass. But its cells are all messed up, which probably isn’t good for the animals that eat it, or for us or the environment. And sometimes companies do really crazy things, like put fish genes inside tomatoes so they don’t freeze. Or jellyfish genes inside pigs so cells light up and can be studied, and that even makes pigs’ noses glow!”

Tess: Uncontrollable giggling. Burst of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”

Me: “So, anyway, that’s why we try really hard to not eat things that have been genetically modified.”

Tess: “Ge-what?”

Me: “Genetically modified. That’s what it’s called when scientists put genes from one living thing inside the cells of another plant or animal.”

Tess: Long silence. “But why would they do that?”

Why indeed.

Pretty little GMO

So the latest big news was the USDA’s surprising decision to approve the unrestricted cultivation of genetically modified alfala.  (See the video below for a great visual on how GMO plants are made.) And that set off a firestorm of controversy and commentary, not only about alfalfa, but about genetic engineering in the rest of our food supply, too.

Numbers vary, but most of what I’ve seen claims that 80% to 90% of the corn, canola, soybeans and cottonseed grown in the U.S. are genetically modified. GMO sugar beets, traditionally a large crop, are on hold because of legal action last year, but that’s about to change. All told, 60% to 70% of processed foods contain genetically modified ingredients. And animals raised for meat and dairy eat mostly GMO feed. (On the horizon: GMO salmon.)

And none of this is labeled.

GMO proponents argue that genetic engineering makes plants grow better, faster and in greater volume on less land, able to resist disease, pests and drought. But I’m in the camp that believes GMOs exist mostly so chemical companies like Monsanto can control agriculture from seed to harvest.  (The GMO alfalfa just approved is bred to resist Monsanto’s Roundup herbicide.) I also think GMOs probably do a whole lot more harm than good.

Unlike traditional breeding techniques, genetic engineering creates plants or animals with traits impossible to achieve naturally. What does that mean for human and animal health? How well can these engineered proteins be digested? Can they lead to food allergies? Do they have other still-unknown consequences? And what about threats to the environment and biodiversity (including the rise of superweeds)?

That’s too many what-ifs for me, so we’re steering clear. If you’re similarly inclined, the best way to reduce your GMO load is to buy certified organic products; check labels for non-organic corn, soy and canola ingredients; and look for the Non-GMO Project seal.

Two helpful shopping guides (both also include mobile apps):

Non-GMO Shopping Guide (Institute for Responsible Technology and the Non-GMO Project)

The True Food Shoppers’ Guide to Avoiding GMOs (Center for Food Safety)

And some good reads:

Organic fallout
Organic Inc.” author Sam Fromartz details the potential dangers to organic food production: “Now you might argue over whether Roundup-Ready Alfalfa is safe or not. But long before that argument’s settled, organic farmers will face major economic losses — the same small farmers that the USDA likes to present as poster children for agriculture.”

GMOs vs. food waste
“The Unhealthy Truth” author Robyn O’Brien asks why we need GMOs and Big Ag to “feed the world” when we throw away 96 billion pounds of food a year. (Answer: We don’t.) Don’t miss the trailer for the documentary “Dive!”. Compelling stuff.

Ranting run amok
Following the alfalfa decision, things got heated between the Organic Consumers Association and three companies (Stonyfield Farm, Organic Valley and Whole Foods) because of that trio’s decision to fight for organic protections when it looked like a total ban was off the table. Read the OCA’s initial screed, plus rebuttals by the Cornucopia Institute, Stonyfield Farm and Fair Food Fight for insight into how things get messy when you forget the big picture.

Political pressure
Were politics at play in the alfalfa ruling? (Is the sky blue?) Grist’s Tom Philpott and Food Politics’ Marion Nestle tell us more.

Lawsuit ahead
The Center for Food Safety plans to sue the USDA over the decision. A Who’s Who of the sustainable-food world signed a letter supporting that effort.  Click through for links to receive legislative alerts, donate to the legal fund and lend your voice to the cause.

Finally, in this clip from the documentary “The Future of Food,” the Center for Food Safety’s Andrew Kimbrell explains how GMO plants are created using bacteria and viruses, and a great animation sequence brings it home. (Tune in at the 1:45 mark.)

What are your thoughts on genetic engineering, frankenfood, tweaking nature? Do you try to avoid GMOs? Is that even on your radar?

Update on Feb. 15: New York Times columnist Mark Bittman tackles the lack of labeling and concludes: “It seems our ‘regulators’ are using us and the environment as guinea pigs, rather than demanding conclusive tests. And without labeling, we have no say in the matter whatsoever.”

This post is linked into Real Food Wednesdays and Fight Back Fridays.

On March 5, this post was reprinted by the AllergyKids Foundation.

On June 1, this post was included in Healthy Child Healthy World’s blog series.

Copyright protected by Digiprove © 2011 Christina Le Beau

Iconic. I know, I know.

I was talking to a friend this past fall about Brownies. The Girl Scout kind. Her daughter had just joined a troop, and, remembering how much I’d loved camping and earning badges as a Girl Scout myself, I asked for details, thinking my daughter might like to join, too.

I’d kind of forgotten about the cookies.

Years ago, before I got squicky about things like refined sugars and oils, GMOs and chemicals in my food, I thought nothing of buying a few boxes from co-workers and neighborhood kids. Then I learned what’s in Girl Scout cookies (including pesticide-laden cottonseed oil and eco-nightmare palm oil), lost my taste and haven’t thought about them since. Tess has never had a Girl Scout cookie. We don’t have family or friends who pester us to buy them. (I haven’t seen a door-to-door Girl Scout in forever.) And when we’ve walked by the tables local troops set up outside banks and stores, we’ve just smiled and kept going.

So when my friend mentioned that if Tess joined in the fall, she’d be starting in the midst of our region’s cookie sales, I had one of those huh moments. Huh, I’d better look into this. And gee, I wonder if we’re allowed to opt out. “I sort of wondered if the cookie thing might be a conflict of interest,” my friend joked (sort of), when I said that I needed to think things through.

Turns out you can opt out, though the Girl Scout website makes you feel like a loser for even considering such a thing. But I decided to wait anyway. Tess already has art and sewing classes besides school, and sometimes swimming lessons, too, and that’s all plenty. But, really, I just need time to think about the cookies.

Oh, there’s no way I’d let her sell them. Our food habits are far from perfect (whatever that means). But I’d feel like a hypocrite. Or a drug dealer. Go on, tell me I’m overreacting. But, seriously, I couldn’t in good conscience let my daughter sell something I believe to be patently unhealthy. (Just as I’m not a fan of donating Girl Scout cookies to food pantries.) And not that I’ve personally tasted one lately, but people tell me the cookies aren’t even that good. Maybe that’s because of ingredient changes. Or maybe because when you eat more real food, you lose your taste for crap. But, no matter. No selling.

10% to 20%. Worth it?

But is that all? Do I just quietly opt out and let Tess enjoy the many great things the Girl Scouts do offer? Or do I talk to the council, the troop, whoever makes these decisions, about some fundraising alternatives? I mean, even if you don’t want to consider the ingredients, there’s the money thing: While about 70% of cookie proceeds go to the local council, individual girls and troops keep only 10% to 20% of the price of each box. And it’s not like the girls gain any values lessons here, as they could with, say, selling seed-starting kits or fair-trade goods. Seems we could do better, yes?

But then what? Do I raise a stink at higher levels? Try to get the Girl Scouts of the whole U.S. of A. to see that forcing little girls to shill nasty, unhealthful cookies hardly upholds the ideals of an organization that published a report called “Weighing in: Helping Girls Be Healthy Today, Healthy Tomorrow”?

New York Times columnist Nicholas Kristof wrote a 2006 op-ed called “Killer Girl Scouts” that set the Nanny State complainers abuzz. My favorite part:

“Maybe it’s unfair to pick on the Girl Scouts, because trans fats are all around us… But that’s the problem we have in risk assessments. There are certain kinds of risks — say, fears of Saddam Hussein — that galvanize us to mobilize an army and devote $1 trillion to confront the challenge. Meanwhile, we do nothing about threats that are much more likely to kill us — like trans fats peddled by cute little girls.”

This was before the Girl Scouts toned down the trans fats in their cookies. But trans fats are still in there. Along with all the other unhealthy oils, refined sugars, and artificial colors and flavors. Yet these are the same cookies the Girl Scouts use as a foundation for cookie badges that ask girls to, among other things, analyze cookie ingredients (for realz) and consider farmers’ roles (as if).

The Scouts should be careful what they ask for, or they might end up with whole troops like these two savvy 12-year-olds, who created an alternative fundraiser and education campaign after learning that the cookies contain rainforest-destroying palm oil.

I did learn about one badge that makes me feel like not quite such a nudge. Organic Pastures, a raw-milk dairy in California, has created a Raw Milk Badge for Girl Scouts who visit the farm to learn where milk comes from and why raw milk from healthy cows is good for you. Of course, they have to go and mention that whole milk-and-cookies thing, but, hey, it’s a start.

Now it’s your turn. As cookie season fires up all over the country, what are your thoughts? On the cookies. On the money and the fundraising. On how you’ve handled this with your girls or troops. Yell at me, agree with me. But let’s talk about this.

This post is linked into Real Food Wednesdays and Fight Back Fridays.

On February 11, this post was reprinted by Fooducate.

Copyright protected by Digiprove © 2011 Christina Le Beau