It’s been nuts in my house since late summer. That’s when my husband and I decided to act on our long-nagging desire to shake things up by paring things down. Things, literally, as in possessions. (It’s been non-stop Craigslisting, Freecycling and donating around here.) But also things in the greater cosmic sense: stress, expenses, responsibilities.

We’re trading our big old house for a loft in a former warehouse downtown. My husband just started a new job close to the new place. We’re ditching the second car. More being. Less doing. That’s the idea, anyway.

We have several months yet until we move, and plenty more to do. So when Tess wanted an ice-skating party for her 8th birthday, it was a huge relief. We’ve run the gamut on parties — from small home celebrations to a “Little House”-themed bash in a log cabin — but this year, the simpler, the better.

So we rented our city’s outdoor rink. Everyone brought their families. And we celebrated our Winter Solstice girl on a clear, gorgeous late December day. No gifts, no favors, no elaborate party fare. (And I’ve been known to put the “labor” in “elaborate.”) We collected donations for the city’s animal shelter. I made snowflake gingerbread cookies (on sticks! using a variation on this recipe). We had clementines and water and hot cocoa. And everyone had all kinds of fun.

Hot cocoa story: We ordered from our local grocer. They make it on-site, then pour it into those nifty to-go boxes with spouts, the ones that stay hot for a few hours. And because I asked (and paid a few extra bucks), they were happy to sub local organic milk for the milk they usually use. Some people see that as fussy. I see it as simple. Asked. Accepted. Who ever said this stuff has to be stressful? (It doesn’t.) 

On that same note: Before she settled on ice skating, Tess lobbied for a party at a local indoor play center. And so I called and had one of those conversations I often have. Me: “We’d like to bring our own food, please.” Play center staffer: “Do you have a concern about allergies?” Me: “No, we just don’t eat the kind of food you serve.” Staffer: “Outside food is against our policy (followed by an explanation that blamed a non-existent state law).”

Well, that led to a phone call with the owner, and wouldn’t you know it? Easy-peasy. After I explained that we don’t eat the highly processed junk they typically serve (OK, not in those exact words), he offered to get whatever food we wanted and prepare it in their kitchen. I was all set to order fruit and veggie trays when Tess changed her mind. But I like knowing that’s an option for the future.

BTW, all this rightsizing and rethinking is why it’s been so quiet on Spoonfed the last several months. But that’s not part of the simplification. Quite the opposite. I’m hoping these changes free up even more time for blogging and the thinky pieces I like so much. In the meantime, I’ll try to keep things lively over on Facebook (where I get my micro-blogging fix). And look for a new post early next month that will help get Spoonfed back on track.

Happy 2012, all.

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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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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Tess just spent a week playing a 19th century farm girl. She’s done camps at this living-history museum every summer since she was 4. (You haven’t seen cute until you’ve seen 4-year-olds dressed like Laura Ingalls.) But the previous camps were a little of this, a little of that, a sampler of life in the 1800s.

Now that she’s 7, Tess got to pick a themed camp, and 19th Century Farm Kids it was, held at the Pioneer Farmstead at Genesee Country Village & Museum, about 30 minutes from where we live in western New York.

Over the week, the kids learned about the animals (sheep, oxen, ducks, geese, chickens, turkeys, cows and pigs), collected eggs and dabbled in cheesemaking. They pulled purslane for salads. And soaked flax to extract the fibers for linen-making. They even picked and tasted hops. (There’s a working 19th century brewery on-site.)

There was barn-cleaning and wood-stacking, work followed by the fun of 19th century games. They shelled corn and sewed corn bags (like bean bags), then made them again after chipmunks raided the barn.

Every day they recorded their experiences in journals, using fountain pens and ink.

I’ve written about GCVM before, in posts on maple sugaring and teaching kids about industrial meat production. The village offers immersion-style history, with costumed role-players sharing the mundane yet fascinating rhythms of early American life. That of course includes the routines and rituals of food and farming. And for kids, especially, it’s a great lesson in agriculture at its most basic. Sure, the kids immerse for only a few hours a day, and they go home in air-conditioned cars to houses with refrigerators and snacks in bags, but it all sinks in, you know?

It’s the reason (along with the “Little House” picture books) that Tess wanted a pioneer party for her 5th birthday, which we  managed to pull off by renting a 1938 log cabin (itself a replica of a 1721 fort) in a nearby park. How authentic? No heat. Only a fireplace. In December. Looking back, it seems a little nuts. But there was sledding and butter-making and running around in bonnets and straw hats. And everyone went home with maple candy and an appreciation for central heat. (Oh: Renting a cabin with no heat in December? Cheap.)

This summer, when we visited Plimoth Plantation in Plymouth, Mass., we found fantastic exhibits and stories about how the Wampanoag and the colonists ate seasonally, in sync with nature. And these museums are everywhere. Check out the Association for Living History, Farm and Agricultural Museums, with members throughout the U.S. and Canada.

My only complaint about farm camp?  Though kids brought their own snacks and lunches (stored in cloth-covered baskets), the camp supplied drinks. Two choices: Water and “lemonade.”  As in: Country Time. As in: artificial colors and other chemical additives that no way, no how existed in the 1800s. (Though, OK, some other poisonous food colorings did.) And, oh, by the way, no actual lemon. Next time, I’d like to see the kids make their own real lemonade. Just like Mrs. Oleson.

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 Real Food Wednesdays and Fight Back Fridays.

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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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In the weeks since the FDA passed the buck on artificial food dyes, there’s been a lot of talk about the studies. Studies that elicit dismissive words like “inconclusive” and “inconsistent.” Or my favorite: “urban legends.”

The FDA’s advisory panel, while weighing warning labels for foods containing fake dyes, did acknowledge ill effects in some kids with behavioral problems, and called for more research. But the panel wasn’t convinced of dangers for the general population. (Not enough, anyway. The vote was 8 to 6.) So no labels. “If we put a label that long on every chemical and ingredient that hasn’t been adequately studied,” epidemiologist Tim Jones told the Washington Post, “you wouldn’t see the package anymore.”

Hold up. So the people making the rules (or advising the people who make the rules) won’t OK warning labels, because the dye-behavior research is inconclusive. Yet they’ll allow food ingredients where the research is… inconclusive.

How do I even begin to deconstruct that irony?

I know. Let’s just forget the concept of warning labels. Instead: Don’t allow anything that “hasn’t been adequately studied” to be put in food or called food in the first place.

This radical idea has a name. It’s called the precautionary principle, and it’s the idea that if something could harm the public or the environment — especially in the absence of significant benefit — you don’t do it. If there are doubts, even if there’s no scientific consensus, the burden shifts from proving harm to proving safety.

Here’s how that would apply to food dyes: Instead of requiring scientists, parents and consumer advocates to prove that petrochemical dyes cause health and behavioral issues, the precautionary principle would require dye makers, food manufacturers and regulatory agencies to prove that these colors don’t cause health and behavioral issues.

The thing is, this isn’t some fantasy ethical theory. It’s actually in use, not only in other countries, but also, to a limited degree, in the United States. And has been for at least 20 years. The precautionary principle underlies U.S. acts governing workplace safety and endangered species, for instance (though it’s debatable how seriously it’s applied). It’s the reason some European countries have banned genetically modified crops and/or require labels on foods made with GMOs.

And when the U.K. Food Standards Agency encouraged parents and manufacturers to avoid food dyes, and the European Parliament mandated dye warning labels, the message was clear: Rather than risk children’s health, let’s be responsible and take precautions while we figure it out. And wouldn’t you know it? Several huge U.S. food manufacturers swapped petrochemical dyes for natural dyes in products they sell overseas (in some cases dropping preservatives and artificial sweeteners, too). But here at home they’ve continued peddling the same chemical junk.

So of course the food industry cheered the FDA’s non-decision last month. It’s all about personal responsibility, food makers say. Artificial colors are listed right there on the label, they point out. But that’s lame. Consumers need to be responsible, yes, but food manufacturers also need to own up to the potential dangers and stop obfuscating with goofy justifications.

Like this, from a recent New York Times story:

“Color is such a crucial part of the eating experience that banning dyes would take much of the pleasure out of life,” said Kantha Shelke, a food chemist and spokeswoman for the Institute of Food Technologists. “Would we really want to ban everything when only a small percentage of us are sensitive?”

Banana or “banana”?

Indeed, color often defines flavor in taste tests. When tasteless yellow coloring is added to vanilla pudding, consumers say it tastes like banana or lemon pudding. And when mango or lemon flavoring is added to white pudding, most consumers say that it tastes like vanilla pudding. Color creates a psychological expectation for a certain flavor that is often impossible to dislodge, Dr. Shelke said.

“Color can actually override the other parts of the eating experience,” she said.

Seriously? Banning food dyes would “take much of the pleasure out of life”? And do we want to think food tastes like banana or vanilla? Or do we want it to actually taste like banana or vanilla?

Then there’s this explanation from the benign-sounding but industry-funded International Food Information Council Foundation:

Color additives are used in foods for many reasons: 1) to offset color loss due to exposure to light, air, temperature extremes, moisture and storage conditions; 2) to correct natural variations in color; 3) to enhance colors that occur naturally; and 4) to provide color to colorless and “fun” foods. Without color additives, colas wouldn’t be brown, margarine wouldn’t be yellow and mint ice cream wouldn’t be green. Color additives are now recognized as an important part of practically all processed foods we eat.

The IFIC gets points for honesty. Though I get the impression that nobody over there sees the problem with “color loss due to exposure to light, air, temperature extremes, moisture and storage conditions.” (Um, ick.) And, really, let’s just drop the ruse and drink water, use butter and eat minty white ice cream instead.

But here’s the thing. Just because the FDA did nothing, just because the food industry is big and rich and apparently shameless, that doesn’t mean the rest of us are powerless. The choices we make, the voices we raise — it all matters:

Know what you’re eating
First and foremost: read ingredients. Artificial colors are listed by color and number (see the image below). For more detail on food dyes and other additives, use smartphone apps like those from Fooducate and the Center for Science in the Public Interest. It seems overwhelming, I know, because food dyes are in even natural-looking foods, like pickles and tortilla chips. But you can avoid them. Really, you can. We do. And I know lots of other people who do, too. A bonus: Ditching artificial colors will automatically improve your diet, since they’re a hallmark of low-quality foods.

Tell companies you’re not buying it
Write to food manufacturers and sign petitions, like this one asking Kraft Foods to stop using petrochemical dyes here just as it’s done overseas. If you have certain brands you favor, find the consumer contact information on their websites and tell the companies how you feel.

Report your personal experiences
The Center for Science in the Public Interest, the main group that lobbied for the FDA hearings, collects stories from parents whose children have had adverse reactions to food dyes. For some kids, the effects are devastatingly obvious. But even kids who aren’t hard-wired can react. I’d even argue that’s the case for most kids, on some level, whether parents realize it’s happening or not. Think about how many times you’ve been at a birthday party with junky cake and seen the ramp-up, the fidgets, distractedness. It’s not sugar that causes the crazies. It’s food dye and other additives. And even if your kid is unfazed, watch how the jacked-up kids change the group dynamic. Then imagine what happens in school when kids bring Lunchables and colored yogurt and “fruit” gummies, sucking all the teacher’s attention because they can’t behave. That sort of thing? That counts as your personal experience, too.

Try to get your school on board
Easier said than done, I realize. Even in my daughter’s small, progressive school, we’ve gotten pushback while trying to discourage food dyes from shared foods (for parties and birthdays). But it’s worth a shot. Gather some background data on food dyes (a good place to start: past Spoonfed posts). Then take a look at these how-to guides from PEACHSF.org. Especially if you’re in a larger school or district, you’ll find great tips on how to approach your school and be an effective advocate. And if all you do is raise awareness or food IQ even a bit, well, that’s something.

Too often, consumer (especially parent) concerns are dismissed as emotional, driven by fear instead of fact. But the precautionary principle turns that criticism around:

What the precautionary principle says is that fear — in the form of caution — has its place. When there is real reason to be careful, when an activity raises threats of harm, act accordingly! That is common sense, not an absolute.

But the precautionary principle is not just against what we fear; it is laid down on the side of what we love. We proclaim in the precautionary principle that human health and the environment are worth protecting.

Amen to that. Our health is worth it. Our kids are worth it. (And a nod to Earth Day: So is the planet they’ll inherit.) Now let’s get this done.

Thoughts on caution, accountability, making choices, raising voices?

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.)

*Click here for more details on Tattfoo Tan’s Nature Matching System project.

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

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The other night I watched Jamie Oliver on the “Late Show.” At one point, amid cooking, pitching his newest “Food Revolution” and tweaking David Letterman, Oliver got serious and said (to paraphrase): With what we know about food and health, we ought to be doing better by our kids. Anything less is a crime.

Lots of people hear something like that and scoff. A crime? Sheesh, don’t be so dramatic. But when school food is influenced by government conflicts  and corporate kickbacks, when food manufacturers and marketers aren’t held accountable, when the FDA allows additives to go unchecked, well, what else do you call it?

So I’m on board for season two of “Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution,” which starts tonight (8 p.m. ET) on ABC. While Oliver’s critics make some valid points, I think his heart is solidly in this. And our kids need more people who not only give a damn, but are willing to do something about it. Even if that something is a “reality” show where a cheeky Brit holds up a mirror to how we feed kids in this country, in school and out.

The show’s first season was set in Huntington, W.Va. This year it’s in Los Angeles. Couple of good articles: Oliver’s motivations and the L.A. experience. Read, watch, let me know what you think. And now a sneak peek:

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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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Regular Spoonfed readers know that artificial colors infuriate me like no other food additive. They’re useless except to mask overprocessing and missing nutrients. They’ve been linked time and again to both behavioral and health issues. Food manufacturers use them solely to trick and manipulate. There’s not one legitimate reason to allow them in our food supply.

So I hope you’ll bear with me as I offer one more food-dyes post in advance of this week’s FDA hearings (March 30-31), which will examine the connection between petrochemical dyes and children’s behavior. Two excellent articles just hit the web, and I think they provide some great information and perspective, particularly for people in your life who might not get what all the fuss is about:

The rainbow of food dyes in our grocery aisles has a dark side
This Washington Post op-ed details the history of food dyes, their dangerous effects and the many ways in which the United States lags other countries in addressing the issue. It’s written by David Schab, a Columbia University psychiatry professor who has studied the link between food dyes and hyperactivity, and Michael Jacobson, executive director of the Center for Science in the Public Interest, one of the organizations that pushed strongly for this week’s FDA hearings. “Allowing the use of artificial dyes violates the FDA’s mandate to protect consumers from unsafe products. It also runs afoul of the agency’s mandate to crack down on food that has been made ‘to appear better or of greater value than it is.’” (Also worth reading from the WaPo: this article on food-industry justifications and how artificial colors have “distorted the American concept of what a food looks like.”)

Serving up food dyes, UK style
A fascinating blog post by “The Unhealthy Truth” author Robyn O’Brien (whose inspiring TEDx talk I just shared). Robyn explores why American food companies like Kraft and Walmart have stopped using artificial colors and other additives (like preservatives and artificial sweeteners) in the food they sell overseas, but not here at home. “We’re not asking them to reinvent the wheel — they’ve already removed these ingredients from their products elsewhere.  So why can’t our children get the same protection?  Why can’t they serve up the same products to us?”

Finally, if you haven’t already, please consider signing this petition from the makers of the movie “Fresh.” Add your signature, comment, personal story, sheer and simple outrage, whatever. Organizers will deliver a link to the FDA.

More on artificial colors from the Spoonfed archives:

Dyeing to know: Easter egg science lesson (April 2, 2010)
Food-dye research. Artificial colors in the United States vs. overseas. And using natural egg dyes as a lesson in fake vs. real.

Color me annoyed (April 9, 2010)
Green popsicles and blue ice cream underscore the prevalence of food dyes in school and summer camp.

The color of trouble (January 22, 2011)
A comprehensive overview of food dyes and the problems they cause, with a bonus farewell to neon birthday cake. Also a great discussion in the comments about natural dye alternatives. (And, incidentally, the most-shared Spoonfed post ever.) An excerpt:

“Artificial colors are the charlatans of food additives: enticing, seemingly harmless… then wham. Linked to long-term health problems, these petroleum-derived chemicals often have immediate and devastating effects on children’s behavior and ability to learn. And unlike when we were kids (and our parents were kids), artificial colors are in everything, from food to toothpaste to medicine, even things that are white or look natural (check your pickles and “blueberries” ). Since 1955, that’s added up to a five-fold increase in dye consumption.”

Reclaiming of the green (and tell the FDA “no dyes”) (March 21, 2011)
Last week’s post-St. Patrick’s Day piece, in which I rally for reclaiming green as a natural color.

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