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Food Should Be Good, Clean, and Fair...
I was young, exceedingly light on Euros and on my first trip to Italy. Despite my financial challenges, I had friends in high places. When you’re traveling 'low end’ that means friends who are locals. In that regard, I was abundant. As the boat sped around the bay of Camoglie, I considered my good fortune. Here I was on a de-facto culinary journey lead by my Italian friends and peppered with the substructure of a movement that a few years later, would explode internationally.
Carlo Petrini, founder of the Slow Food Movement believes, "…everyone has the right to good, clean and fair food". 1 Its mission of educating and providing foundation for universal access to good, clean and fair food has been the movement’s banner since its original incarnation in the late 1980s as a committee (under a different name) protesting the opening of McDonald’s near the Spanish Steps. Since then, the organization has grown into a 100,000 member movement with chapters (convivia) in over 150 countries.2
Good food refers to high quality, delicious food. Clean food refers to the way it is produced and transported and fair, to the pricing and treatment from both the consumers’ and the producers’ point of view. At the time of my trip, it had yet to be imagined: uniting the pleasure of food with commitments to sustainability and community.
The ground work, however, was being laid for the international exportation of this vision that was organic to the Italian and other Mediterranean cultures. The table was being set - literally. The spray from the wake brought me back to the moment and the boat turned the corner into the cape of Portofino, revealing the beautiful San Fruttuoso Abbey. I arrived at one of the most scenic outdoor dining rooms imaginable and one accessible only by boat or via arduous walking trail. Today, dotted with a few restaurants, the beachfront stood - in that moment- empty and pristine but for a long communal table.
Around it were my friends - my guides - on what was to become one of my most vivid and treasured memories of a full food experience. In progress, were discussions - as there always are in the company of Italians - of food. Italians can be relied on to hold nothing back with regards to critique of their cuisine. It was rare to hear immediate agreement on who makes the best foccaccio al formaggio without significant requisite hand waving and finger wagging preceding it. No one’s angry. It’s just that the subject spurs such passion. And shouldn’t it?
Had I not heard the accolades that came before it arrived at the table, I would not have believed that something so simple could be so sublime. Pesto lasagne: noodles and pesto. That’s all. It seemed so modest and homey and yet so elegant. This is the beauty of Mediterranean cuisine: Everyone eats well because everyone believes it is his right and not a privilege of the wealthy or the well-travelled.
This same idea of the universal right to eat well was the anchor of the Slow Food Movement and one we - across the Atlantic - would so desperately need just a few years later. When commercial agribusiness turned our food supply on its end, the Slow Food movement responded by providing - through its 800 convivia - education for consumers on taste and also on the risks of fast food and factory farms. Paul DeCampo, former President of Slow Food Convivium in Toronto, Canada says, "Slow Food's focus on celebrating a uniquely local gastronomy resonated with area farmers, chefs and conscious eaters, and Slow Food advocates' clear preferences for traditional genetics, organic production and fair returns to farmers have clarified the mission of local food activists". Moreover, the medicinal and health properties of the good, clean, fair food were re-illuminated. There is an anthropological pull to find certain foods and certain combinations of food delicious .3
It is not a coincidence but rather a scientifically proven pull that happens to be intuitive to Italian and other cultures. However it seems less and less available to all now and particularly to us in North America. Cultures of the Mediterranean preserve agricultural heritage by protecting the handing down of recipes and with impromptu discussions on where to get the best ribollita and whose mother turns out the tastiest pepperonata. We have lost that primal connection to food, however. Our palates have been irritated with powdered drinks promising slenderness and a perpetual stream of food that can be conveniently eaten with one hand while we text, drive or open the microwave door with the other. We needed a code; something that would force the consideration of food as art, fuel, connection and ecology all at once.