‘The English Person With a Chinese Stomach’: How Fuchsia Dunlop Became a Sichuan Food Hero

Every autumn in the mid-00s, when I lived in China, my friend Scarlett Li would invite me to Shanghai to eat hairy crab. Named for the spiky fur on their legs and claws, the crabs are said to have the best flavour during the ninth month of the lunar calendar. They’re steamed and served whole, with a dip of rice vinegar spiked with ginger. The most prized specimens come from Yangcheng Lake near Suzhou, which is not far from Scarlett’s home town of Wuxi. She had moved to Hong Kong as a child, attended high school and college in Australia, and returned to China to pursue a career as an entrepreneur. Despite her years abroad, she remained Chinese through and through – and eating hairy crab with her, I became Chinese, too.

Beginning in the Tang dynasty in the seventh century, crabs were harvested from the lakes and estuaries of the Yangtze delta and sent as tribute to the imperial court. Twelfth-century Hangzhou had specialised crab markets and dedicated crab restaurants. “I have lusted after crabs all my life,” wrote the 17th-century playwright Li Yu. “From the first day of the crab season until the last day they are sold, I … do not let a single evening pass without eating them …. Dear crab, dear crab, you and I, are we to be lifelong companions?”

A hairy crab festival in Huai’an, Jiangsu province, in October. Photograph: VCG/Getty

In Invitation to a Banquet: The Story of Chinese Food, Fuchsia Dunlop traces the history of this remarkable cuisine through 30 dishes, from slow-braised pork belly to steamed rice. (There are 10 mentions of hairy crab – not to be confused with crab that’s roasted, baked, shredded, stuffed into soup dumplings or steamed buns, or marinated in liquor and served raw in a dish called drunken crab, which gets its own chapter.) Dunlop, who is British, explores the staggering ingenuity and range of a cuisine that she feels has not won the respect it deserves in the world of fine dining: “Only the Chinese have placed [cooking] at the very core of their identity. For the ancient Chinese, the transformation of raw ingredients through cooking marked the boundary not only between humans and their savage ancestors, but between the people of the civilised world (that is, China and its antecedent states) and the barbarians who lived around its edges.”

The result is a gastronomy that is unparalleled for its diversity, sophistication, subtlety and “sheer deliciousness”. Many supposedly modern ideas about eating, Dunlop points out, have been accepted in China for centuries. Consuming the freshest meat, fish and produce, local and in season, has been important since the earliest dynasties. “Certainly to have a fresh fish and to cause it to become unfresh is a terrible act,” wrote Yuan Mei, an 18th-century gourmet and poet. Educated gentlemen through the ages have searched obsessively for the freshest bamboo shoots, the finest vinegar, or the perfect bowl of congee. (It tastes best, according to one connoisseur, when made with rainwater in early spring.) Ingredients should be cooked in small quantities using refined methods that reveal their benwei, or “root flavours”.

The passage of seasons was marked by the fruits and vegetables available in the markets, starting with apricots and cherries in early summer, followed by peaches and melons, then chestnuts, grapes and oranges at the mid-autumn festival and goose pears and quinces at the onset of winter. Everyone knew that the best handmade tofu came from Xiba in Sichuan, just as Nanjing was the place for salted duck, Pixian for chilli bean paste, and the hills around Hangzhou for the most delicate leaves of dragon well green tea. “Concern for the provenance and terroir of ingredients, so important to modern western gourmets, was not the invention of the French or Californians, but has been a preoccupation in China for more than 2,000 years,” Dunlop writes. The Chinese also pioneered imitation meat, free-range chickens, molecular gastronomy, sushi, tofu, soy sauce, ramen and restaurants, which were fashionable gathering places in 12th-century Kaifeng, six centuries before they first appeared in Paris.

Pleasure in eating has always been paired with the need for restraint, and classical texts warned against overindulgence. “Even if there is plenty of meat, [a gentleman] should not eat more meat than rice,” counselled Confucius in the Analects. The ideal has always been to achieve moderation and balance – yin and yang, heating and cooling ingredients, main dishes and rice – in order to nourish the body while living in harmony with nature. (...)

The seductive flavours of China’s local specialities have defined Dunlop’s career. Educated at the University of Cambridge, she first went to live in China in 1994, on a one-year scholarship at Sichuan University in Chengdu to study the government’s policy toward ethnic minorities. She was fortunate to have been sent to a place with one of China’s most distinctive cuisines and found herself taking notes on the food. She quit her studies and enrolled at the Sichuan Higher Institute of Cuisine as one of its first foreign students. Over the past three decades she has built a career explaining Chinese cooking to western readers, initially focusing on Sichuan and then expanding to other regions.

More surprisingly, Dunlop has gained a large following by explaining Chinese food to the Chinese. Her memoir Shark’s Fin and Sichuan Pepper sold about 200,000 copies when it came out in China in 2018. Invitation to a Banquet has sold 50,000 copies since its publication there last year, and two of her cookbooks have also done well. Among Chinese food lovers and chefs, Dunlop is praised for her deep understanding of the country’s culinary history. She’s known, like a celebrity, by her first name: “Fu Xia” in Chinese.

How exactly did a waiguoren – a Cambridge-educated white woman who grew up 5,000 miles away – become accepted as an authority on matters so important to the Chinese? Amid China’s rapid transition to a modern industrialised nation, traditional ways of eating and living are disappearing. It has fallen to Dunlop, an outsider, to study the history, to sift through the tradition, and to taste the dishes as if for the first time. Along the way, she has become the voice of a more authentic past. “It kind of shames us, because it’s our own culture,” He Yujia, her Chinese translator, told me. “She helps us rediscover what we’ve neglected for too long.” (...)

Of course, Dunlop’s foreignness also sets her apart. In the extensive coverage of her work and life in the Chinese media, she is “the Cambridge graduate who came to China to cook”, “the English person with a Chinese stomach”, “the foreigner who understands Chinese food best”. “She lends legitimacy to Chinese culture and Chinese cooking at a time when Chinese people really need that affirmation,” Tzui Chuang, a Taiwanese-American food writer, told me.

One of Dunlop’s goals is to rescue Chinese food from its reputation in the west as “popular, but … cheap, low-status and junky”. As she explains in Invitation to a Banquet, the earliest Chinese restaurateurs abroad – beginning with those who went to California during the Gold Rush in the 1840s – were uneducated labourers with no culinary training. The dishes that they made, like deep-fried wontons and sweet-and-sour everything, were nothing like the sophisticated cuisine back home.

by Leslie T. Chang, The Guardian |  Read more:

Image: VGC/Getty Images/Lai Wu

[ed. An expert's expert. If you haven't any of her cookbooks you really should find a few, (or they'd make great Christmas gifts.]

Here Come China's Food and Drink Chains

Get ready, America: Here come China’s food and drink chains (NYT/ST)

The economic relationship between the United States and China is as fraught as it has been in recent memory, but that has not stopped a wave of Chinese food and beverage chains from moving aggressively into the United States for the first time.

Chinese tea shops in New York and Los Angeles are offering consumers drinks topped with a milk or cheese foam. Fried chicken sandwich joints are trying to lure diners in California with affordable fast food. Restaurant and drink brands, some with thousands of stores in China, are taking root in American cities to escape punishing competition at home.

Heytea, a tea chain originating in Jiangmen, a city in southern China, has opened three dozen stores nationwide since 2023, including a flagship operation in Times Square in New York. Two other rival tea brands, Chagee and Naisnow, opened their first U.S. stores this year. Luckin Coffee, a chain with three outlets for every one Starbucks in China, opened several spots across Manhattan.

Wallace, one of China’s largest fast-food chains with more than 20,000 stores selling fried chicken and hamburgers, landed in Walnut, California, for its first shop. Haidilao, China’s largest hot-pot chain, is redoubling its efforts in the United States after entering the market more than a decade ago.

The American expansion comes at a challenging moment for China’s food and beverage industry. The Chinese economy is no longer growing at a breakneck pace, hampered by a long-running real estate crisis and sluggish consumer spending. To survive, restaurant chains are undercutting one another on prices, inciting an unsustainable, profit-killing race to the bottom. 

by Daisuke Wakabayashi and Joy Dong, NYT/ST |  Read more:

Image: Ava Pellor/The New York Times

[ed. Not to mention Japan's plans to give 7-11's a complete workover.]

Loco Moco

Loco Moco

This classic Hawaiian dish is similar to Japanese hambagu, a ground beef patty topped with a ketchup-based sauce, but loco moco is heartier, served atop a pile of white rice, smothered with caramelized onion gravy and topped with a fried egg. People in Hawaii enjoy it for breakfast, lunch, dinner or any time in between. This version is adapted from “Aloha Kitchen: Recipes From Hawai‘i,” by Alana Kysar, a cookbook of Hawaiian classics. - recipe:

[ed. Never thought I'd see Loco Moco in the NY Times food section. What next? Spam musubi?]

Tequila Wars: 100 Percent Should Mean 100 Percent

[ed. Costco, Kendall Jenner, Diego Corp (Don Julio, Casamigos, etc.) others accused of selling adulterated tequila.]

Mexico City— At an October 16 press conference, Remberto Galván Cabrera announced that four additional tequila brands have failed the purity test. According to Galván, these major brands are masquerading as premium 100% agave tequila, but are actually adulterated with industrial cane alcohol. He has the lab tests to prove it. And no, he’s not talking about Don Julio, Casamigos, Cincoro, or 818, which have been slapped with class action lawsuits for allegedly selling adulterated tequila in the US.

If you’ve been following this unfolding drama, you may remember that Galván is a spokesperson for agave farmers (currently Agaveros de la Agroindustria del Tequila) who have been protesting industry corruption and unfair practices for over a year.

 

In September, Galván lodged a formal complaint with the government, demanding a criminal investigation of the CRT, the organization that regulates the tequila industry. The CRT is tasked with ensuring that all tequila meets legal standards, but Galván alleges that the organization is instead profiting from authorizing the sale of adulterated tequila. Galván traveled to the neighboring state of Guanajuato to request the investigation. His home state of Jalisco is the stronghold of the CRT, which influences local politics.

“The CRT certifies a product as 100% agave when it isn’t,” Galván stated, “With these tests, we prove it. The organization acts as a monopoly that favors industrialists, marginalizes small producers, and puts public health at risk.”

The CRT is a nonprofit “interprofessional organization” that supposedly represents all players in the tequila industry–including agave farmers. In October of 2024, a coalition of agaveros challenged this claim. The price of agave had dropped from 32 pesos a kilo (in 2018) to just one peso a kilo, and the farmers had a litany of complaints. They alleged that the drop in prices wasn’t just the same old boom and bust cycle that had plagued agave farmers for years. At a protest outside of CRT headquarters in Zapopan, Jalisco, agaveros sounded the alarm, alleging that the CRT was colluding with major tequila companies to drive down agave prices and squeeze out small farmers. 

Curious to know more about the source of this unrest, I sought out Remberto Galván Cabrera. He was loquacious, passionate, and hellbent to expose the alleged corruption. Much of what he said seemed plausible. The idea of corporations colluding to screw over farmers? Sure. The agaveros’ accusation that a regulatory body (the CRT) was corrupt? Certainly possible. His allegation that giant corporations were breaking international laws to adulterate their supposedly premium tequilas? That was harder to swallow. I couldn’t understand why they would take such a giant risk when it would be relatively easy to prove that a tequila was corrupted. Galván assured me there was evidence, but he wasn’t ready to release it. Fast forward about a year…

Since we first broke the story of the allegations in January of 2025, the drama has escalated. Galván was kidnapped and beaten. His phone and paperwork were stolen. Two leaders in the movement, Julián Rodríguez Parra and Salvador Ibarra Landeros, were arrested and jailed. I received veiled threats. The agaveros continued to stage protests.

Casamigos, Don Julio, Cincoro, and 818 accused of selling fake tequila

Although the protesting agaveros were making a lot of noise, the story wasn’t picked up by major news sources until May 5, 2025, when we reported that a class action lawsuit had been filed in New York against liquor giant Diageo. The lawsuit alleges that two Diageo tequilas, Casamigos and Don Julio, were adulterated with industrial alcohol. Diageo refuted the allegations stating, “All Casamigos and Don Julio tequilas labelled as ‘100% agave’ are made from 100% blue weber agave. We will vigorously defend the quality and integrity of our tequilas in court, and against anyone who is spreading misinformation and lies about our products.”

On July 4, another class action lawsuit was filed in California, opening the field of plaintiffs to anyone in the US who had bought Don Julio or Casamigos products. Since then, additional tequila brands have been slapped with lawsuits, including Kendall Jenner’s 818 tequila. In a case filed in Florida, the plaintiffs accuse 818 of knowingly selling adulterated tequila.

According to the September 23 filing, “Defendants actively concealed and misrepresented the true nature of how their Products were manufactured and composition of their Products. Indeed, Defendants concealed and misrepresented that they had in fact utilized sugars other than those obtained from the tequilana weber blue variety of agave to enhance their tequila, despite the Products being labeled as 100% agave azul.” (...)

So how bad is the adulterated “tequila”?

“The four samples we analyzed were adulterated with cheap cane alcohol,” Galván says. “Two samples weren’t even recognized as mixto tequila, meaning they have 33% agave sugars or less. The other two barely reached 51% agave.” He notes that one sample also had unsafe levels of methanol–a factor the CRT supposedly monitors.

We contacted the CRT for comment but have not yet received a reply. They have declined our previous request.

The numbers Galván lists are consistent with the test results cited in the California class action lawsuit, which was filed on July 4 by Baron & Budd in conjunction with Hagens Berman, who were responsible for the first class action lawsuit in New York.

According to the legal team, tests revealed that Casamigos Blanco contains approximately 33% agave-derived alcohol. Supposedly, Don Julio Blanco is 42% agave, while their pricey 1942 Añejo contains just 33% agave. As the complaint summarizes, “These findings directly contradict the prominent ‘100% Agave’ labels on Diageo Premium tequila products and confirm that Diageo’s representations are materially false and misleading.”

by Felisa Rogers, Mezcalitas |  Read more:

Image: via

[ed. See also: Costco implicated in adulterated tequila scandal; and, Tequila test results revealed, death threats, and other breaking news (Mezcalitas):]

***

Since we last reported on the tequila adulteration scandal, A LOT has happened. To make sense of it, I’ve created a timeline of recent revelations, followed by my takeaways and a chilling message from the man who has risked everything to bring this story to light. (...)

My takeaways…

At this point, it’s challenging to track all these law suits, law firms, and formal complaints. Meanwhile, we wonder why this story isn’t receiving more attention in the mainstream press. (...)

We continued to cover the protests and negotiations, but the allegations of adulterated tequila didn’t gain traction until May, when we reported that a major law firm was bringing a class action lawsuit against Diageo, the parent company of Casamigos and Don Julio, for allegedly selling adulterated tequila masquerading as a 100% agave premium product. Our story was picked up by Reuters, trade publications, and other outlets. The scandal has since snowballed into more lawsuits, outraged declarations of innocence, and a whole lot of speculation.

But to me, the agaveros are still at the heart of this drama. In a nutshell: this is a story about giant corporations allegedly colluding with a regulatory agency to improve their profit margins. By allegedly adulterating tequila with industrial alcohol, these players are devaluing the price of agave. This is unfair to both the agaveros and the legitimate distillers who are still making real tequila with care and at much greater cost.

It’s also a tale of courage in the face of enormous danger. Since beginning this crusade, Remberto Galván has been abducted and beaten. Two other agavero leaders, Julián Rodríguez and Salvador Ibarra, were arrested for protesting outside of the Sauza distillery and held in jail for 72 days. We are seriously concerned for the safety of everyone who continues to speak out on this issue.

Galván says that he and his associates have received threatening anonymous phone calls. According to Galván, he was told that if doesn’t back down, his body parts will be strewn around his home.

But the alleged intimidation goes beyond death threats. According to Galván, his own distillery, La Alborada, was targeted. He says a friend and colleague was pressured to plant adulterated tequila on the premises.

This appears to be a theme. Galván, a crusader against adulterated tequila, may be charged with adulterating tequila. Julián Rodríguez, an advocate for the rights of farmers, was charged with extortion and intimidation of Sauza for engaging in a peaceful protest outside the entrance of their distillery.

Galván fears for his life. He asked us to put this in the public record.

Chasing the Tomato

When Panera Bread began shrinking its sandwiches and skimping on salads, it started shedding customers.

Now, to win them back, the chain plans to reinvest in the business and undo many of those same cost-cutting measures, it said Tuesday.

Once the No. 1 fast-casual brand in the U.S., Panera has dipped to No. 3, ceding the top spots to Chipotle Mexican Grill and Panda Express. Last year, its sales fell 5% to $6.1 billion, according to Technomic estimates. For years, the chain’s traffic has been shrinking, according to CEO Paul Carbone, who took the reins earlier this year. Controversy after the chain’s foray into energy drinks didn’t help matters, either. (...)

Entering the value wars

Phase one of Panera’s plan is to improve the quality of its food, reversing cost-cutting measures imposed in the face of high inflation, according to Carbone.

“We squeezed food costs. We squeezed labor,” he said. [ed. Translation: we enshitified our product and screwed employees.] 

Some of those changes happened while Carbone was chief financial officer. He now calls himself a “reformed CFO” — albeit one who still listens to earnings conference calls.

“It’s really about death by a thousand paper cuts, it truly is,” Carbone said about the chain’s downturn.

Take Panera’s salads, for example. In the summer of 2024, Panera began using a mix of half romaine, half iceberg lettuce to make its salads, saving the chain money compared with when it was using romaine alone. This summer, it reverted back to entirely romaine salads.

“You know what guests told us? No one likes iceberg, and no one gets that and says, ‘Oh my God, that white salad, it looks so appetizing,’” Carbone said.

And then there’s the cherry tomato. Carbone said Panera is one of the few restaurant chains that doesn’t slice the bite-sized tomatoes in half, a decision made to save on labor costs.

“We make the guest chase the cherry tomato around the bowl,” he said.

And when a salad comes with an avocado, customers have to cut the halved fruit themselves, rather than it coming presliced. The chain will start slicing the cherry tomatoes and avocados early next year.

Plus, Panera’s salads typically have five ingredients, while those of competitors like Sweetgreen feature as many as eight.

But it wasn’t just salads that were affected by the cost-cutting measures.

“In some instances, we shrunk portions, so guests would walk into our cafe to buy a sandwich that has gone up significantly in price, with lower-quality ingredients, in a smaller size,” Carbone said.

The menu refresh will also include new items. Last month, the chain announced that it is testing new “fresca” and “energy refresher” drinks.

Panera previously offered highly caffeinated energy drinks, but it discontinued the line, which included Charged Lemonade, following two wrongful death lawsuits and related negative publicity. Panera denied wrongdoing and settled the lawsuits earlier this year.

When it comes to value, Panera is planning on leaning into a barbell menu strategy, offering customers options on both the low- and high-price end. The approach has worked particularly well for casual-dining chains like Chili’s, but Panera doesn’t have the same appetizer offerings as a full-service restaurant.

“We haven’t cracked the code yet,” Carbone said. “We’re doing a lot of testing.”

by Amelia Lucas, CNBC |  Read more:

Image: Joe Raedle|Getty Images
[ed. Never eaten there and can confidently predict never will.]

Honeycrisp Apples Are Popular Worldwide. Some Washington Growers Hate Them

Ever since Eve bit the forbidden fruit, apples have held a certain mystique.

They say that one a day keeps the doctor away. Billions per year keep Washington farms hopping. And “if each person ate 2.5 more pounds of apples” per year, said fourth-generation farmer Kait Thornton, “you could save the apple industry” in our state.

In Washington, more than 5 billion pounds of apples were produced this fall by an industry that “generates over $8 billion in economic impact for the state of Washington and supports almost 70,000 jobs,” per the Washington State Tree Fruit Association. Some 1,200 commercial apple growers in the Evergreen State produce about 70% of the country’s apples — and 4% of the world’s crop.

 

The industry has grown steadily in the last decade. We lead the nation in fresh apple production. And yet, Washington farmers are nervous.

And it’s all our fault.

Yes, us. Apple eaters are fickle, always reaching for the latest and greatest fruit.

Apple production, as with many commodity crops, follows the trends and tastes of consumers. A little over 25 years ago, Red Delicious was Washington’s top variety of apple — a perfect fruit for farmers, it was standardized in size and flavor, an easy grower in our climate; it’s an apple that transports and stores beautifully.

Today, the classic, giant, deep-red apple makes up around 12% of the state’s annual harvest — and we export the bulk of them, because American consumers have fallen for different apples.

“Once you standardize something, people miss novelty,” says Jon Devaney, president of the tree fruit association.

Consumer tastes and expectations have veered away from the creamy softness of the Red and Golden Delicious varieties. The Honeycrisp entered the market decades ago, as people sought a juicier, more crisp and tart apple. The Minnesota invention was formally introduced in 1991 — and now Honeycrisp is a perennial fan favorite among apple lovers.

They made up 15% of this year’s Washington crop, tied for our state’s second most-produced apple.

But Honeycrisps are a real problem child for Washington growers. (...)

At the beginning of the 2025 apple harvest, Thornton posted a TikTok with her dad, Geoff, bemoaning that popular, sweet, tart apple, saying he “hated Honeycrisp.”

“They’re like the mean girl at a dance,” Geoff said of Honeycrisp apples in the video, which has been viewed nearly 2 million times.

Honeycrisp is second to Galas, Washington’s No. 1 apple at 18% of total production, and is tied with Granny Smith for No. 2, followed by Red Delicious, Cosmic Crisp, Fuji and Cripps Pink. (...)

Geoff has seen many things change in his time farming. He knows that apple varietals rise and fall in popularity as consumer tastes change. But he’s going public with a plea for apple lovers this year. Eat something other than Honeycrisp. Please.

“We wanted an apple that would increase consumption,” Geoff said, “and bless Honeycrisp’s heart, because it did that. The nation fell in love with Honeycrisp. But it’s really hard to grow. It gives you the promise of reward, but then you try too hard and you’re bitterly disappointed.”

He said it’s one of the most high-maintenance apples out there.

“They’re always like, ‘What can you do for me?’” Geoff said. “A little extra nutrient spray, special water irrigation program; we’ll have a lot one year and we won’t have any the next.”

All apples for the fresh market are picked by hand, but the skin on a Honeycrisp is thin, meaning each stem must also be clipped by hand just after picking, so they don’t poke holes in other apples in a bin. They’re also prone to calcium deficiency, leading to spots, a bitter pit and mold.

These apples thrive in spots like Minnesota and Michigan, where they were developed, so you might say that farmers have been fighting an uphill battle since the beginning.

“A really good Honeycrisp crop would be packing 60%, throwing away 40%,” Geoff said. “Cosmic Crisp, you might pack 85 or even 90%. It’s really a much more grower-friendly apple variety.”

Now, throwing away doesn’t mean 40% of Honeycrisp apples are left on the orchard floor. Those apples are sold to a secondary market for juice, puree or cider. (...)

Geoff saw the writing on the wall with Honeycrisp a few years ago. He has made changes, investing in other apple varieties that are still up and coming, like the SugarBee apple and Cosmic Crisp. Those varieties also have the distinction of being Washington-produced, meaning they’re naturally better suited for the Tonasket climate.

“I’m putting my last gasps of money into new varieties, the Happi Pear, and the best apple I’ve ever raised in my 39-year career: the SugarBee,” Geoff said.

Devaney of the tree fruit association knows it’s all a gamble.

“You can spend upwards of $70,000 per acre putting in the trees, setting up a trellis, irrigation, waiting three to five years, and then when you’re selling that fruit, consumers eat it and like it,” he said. “Multiply by a couple hundred acres, it’s easy to bet the farm on a variety.”

by Jackie Varriano, Seattle Times |  Read more:

Image: Kevin Clark/The Seattle Times

[ed. Not a big apple eater, but I do like a good Cosmic Crisp. Read the comments section for more diverse and passionate opinions. See also: Yakima Valley drought forces WA farmers to rip out apple trees (ST).]

Most Expensive Coffee in the World

via:

[ed. Bat Poop Coffee? See also: World's most expensive coffee goes on sale in Dubai at $1,000 a cup. Selling for nearly $1,000 a cup, a cafe in Dubai is offering the world's most expensive coffee, brewed from Panamanian beans sold at a premium price. via.]

SNAP 2025

Starving People Over Politics

I do want to take some time today to talk about the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP, formerly known as food stamps), because over the weekend the Trump administration essentially decided to turn the program off.

During an appropriations lapse, most of the government’s discretionary programs shut down, but programs like Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid that are funded on an ongoing basis rather than through annual appropriations continue.

SNAP is one such program, which is why it wasn’t impacted when appropriations originally lapsed. However, administering the program requires a modest amount of spending over and above the expenditure on the benefits, and the appropriations for that administration ran out at the end of October.

The White House could — but chose not to — tap an emergency fund that exists to keep the program running.

There’s going to be litigation as to whether Trump truly has discretion here or is just breaking the law. But SNAP benefits won’t be paid this month unless judges intervene. And while the non-payment is in a sense because of the shutdown, it was not a forced move. The White House believes that cutting off SNAP payments will increase pressure on Democrats to cave, because they believe that Democrats care a lot about the safety net and the lives of poor people.

An interesting quirk of American politics is that lower-income states tend to be more conservative so, in a sense, the economic hit of sharply curtailed low-end consumption falls harder on red America. (...)

So the politics of firing this gun may not play out exactly how Republicans hope.

That said, what I actually want to talk about today is the substance of SNAP. It’s hard, journalistically, to cover static facts about the world, but SNAP is a big important program that makes a real difference in people’s lives. Trump shutting it down is a good time to talk about that, and also a good time to mention GiveDirectly’s program where you can give money to Americans directly impacted by this situation.

SNAP is a really big deal

SNAP is a large program, but most people don’t think about it very much, to the extent that one of the most common reactions I saw to news of looming cuts was incredulity that nearly 12 percent of the population could really be receiving food assistance benefits. And a lot of that spiraled into conspiratorial thinking about massive underestimates of the immigrant population or benefits fraud.

But the poverty rate in the United States is either 10.6 or 12.9 percent, depending on which measure you use, so the scale of food assistance shouldn’t be surprising. And the demographics of SNAP are similar to other American anti-poverty programs: the biggest groups of enrollees are children, the elderly, and the disabled, and the program skews significantly toward single mothers and their kids rather than two-parent households.

In general, I think people tend to underrate both the fact that the United States is a very rich country — not just in the sense of billionaires or the top 1 percent, but that our median living standards are much higher than in Europe or Asia — and also that it’s a really hard place to be poor. The prosperity of the country tends to make things a little expensive here, because you’re either hiring the labor of residents of a rich country or bidding against the residents of a rich country for scarce goods.

If you look at living standards in the poorest 10 percent of the population, the bottom decile of Americans is doing worse than the bottom decile of Canadians or Australians or residents of northern Europe.

Reasonable people can disagree as to what to make of that, but it’s one of the most important structural facts of American life.

Somewhat flexible help for the poor

On average, SNAP recipients receive $187 per month, but poorer families get more and less-poor ones get less. It’s not a particularly generous program. But relative to the rest of the American safety net, it’s a flexible program in that it takes a fairly expansive view of what counts as groceries. When I was a kid and recipients had to bring actual food stamps to the grocery store to get their benefits, their use of the program was quite obvious to anyone behind them in the checkout line. But in the modern world, benefits are administered via an Electronic Benefits Transfer card that looks and functions like a debit card or a credit card, so it’s easy to miss — perhaps one reason people seemed to be surprised by the scope of the program.

by Matthew Yglesias, Slow Boring |  Read more:

Image: Hispanolistic

[ed. Poor people being used as political pawns again. Starting with burdensome new Medicaid application, work and reporting requirements; suspended H-2A worker programs which provided visiting workers for essential agricultural and dairy support jobs (that Americans won't do); ICE arresting anyone that looks poor and brown, and now this - just outright starving them. See also: Trump’s deportations are causing farm labor issues... with no viable, long-term solution (Investigate Midwest); and Wages of Citizenship (PW):]

***

"The Trump Administration’s crusade to transform the US immigration system has included sweeping changes to increase the state’s capacity to locate and remove noncitizen residents. The administration has empowered immigration agents to enter formerly “sensitive” spaces like schools and churches, suspended due process for legal noncitizens, and established immigration jails outside national borders. It made a deal with the Internal Revenue Service (IRS) to use once off-limits tax data to locate up to seven million undocumented workers. Dramatic deportation operations are now underway across the country, with the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) boasting 113,000 arrests and “north of” 100,000 deportations since Trump took office in January. The numbers include a rise in “collateral” arrests and deportations and are likely to rise after Immigration and Customs Enforcement’s (ICE) March 25 repeal of work authorization for 530,000 legal migrants of Cuba, Nicaragua, Haiti, and Venezuela, who have thirty days—until April 24—to depart before they too will be targeted for arrests and deportations.

Draconian methods were to be expected. Less clear is whether the promised crackdowns threaten the uneasy alliance between the federal government and employers in agriculture, construction, and food and hospitality industries. Despite the “war on terror” redefining the outer limits of executive power to surveil and detain foreign nationals, the workplace has over the past two decades remained largely insulated. The resilience of this arrangement reflects a clear hegemonic interest in cheap and docile labor, which allows for both lower prices and higher profits; a critical supply of health and childcare workers; a vital source of future labor; and close to $100 billion annually in state, local, and federal tax revenues. This is the perspective of US employers, expressed by the notion of “sanctuary businesses,” in which the legal segmentation of the labor market has propelled business growth."

Soybean Socialism

They’re Small, Yellow and Round — and Show How Trump’s Tariffs Don’t Work

Once again, President Trump says he’s preparing an emergency bailout for struggling farmers. And once again, it’s because of an emergency he created.

China has stopped buying U.S. soybeans to protest Mr. Trump’s tariffs on imports. In response, Mr. Trump plans to send billions of dollars of tariff revenue to U.S. soybean farmers who no longer have buyers for their crops. At the same time, Argentina has taken advantage of Mr. Trump’s tariffs to sell more of its own soybeans to China — yet Mr. Trump is planning to bail out Argentina, too.

This may seem nonsensical, especially since Mr. Trump already shoveled at least $28 billion to farmers hurt by his first trade war in 2018. But it actually makes perfect sense. It’s what happens when Mr. Trump’s zero-sum philosophy of trade — which is that there are always winners and losers, and he should get to choose the winners — collides with Washington’s sycophantic approach to agriculture, which ensures that farmers always win and taxpayers always lose. In the end, Mr. Trump’s allies, including President Javier Milei of Argentina and the politically influential agricultural community, will get paid, and you will pay. (...)

In theory, Mr. Trump’s tariffs on foreign products ranging from toys to cars to furniture are supposed to encourage manufacturers to move operations from abroad to the United States. They haven’t had that effect, because the tariffs have jacked up the price of steel and other raw materials that U.S. manufacturers still need to import, triggered retaliatory tariffs from China and other countries and created a volatile trade environment that makes investing in America risky. At the same time, higher tariffs mean higher prices for U.S. consumers, even though Mr. Trump insists that only foreigners absorb the costs. (...)

Of course, farmers have been among Mr. Trump’s most loyal supporters, and these days they’re distraught that rather than make agriculture great again, the president has chased away their biggest soybean buyer. They’re especially irate that Mr. Trump pledged to rescue Argentina the same day Mr. Milei suspended its export tax on soybeans, making it more attractive for China to leave U.S. farmers in the lurch. Mr. Trump even admitted that the $20 billion Argentine bailout won’t help America much, that it’s a favor for an embattled political ally who’s “MAGA all the way.”

But American farmers were distraught about his last trade war, too, until he regained their trust with truckloads of cash. They say that this time they don’t want handouts, just open markets and a level playing field, but in the end they’ll accept the handouts while less powerful business owners victimized by tariffs will get nothing. Mr. Trump initially promised to use his tariff revenue to pay down the national debt to benefit all Americans, but he’ll take care of farmers first.

In fact, “Farmers First” is the motto of Mr. Trump’s Department of Agriculture, and the upcoming bailout won’t be even his first effort this year to redirect money from taxpayers to soybean growers. His Environmental Protection Agency has proposed to mandate two billion additional gallons of biodiesel, a huge giveaway to soy growers. His “big, beautiful bill” also included lucrative subsidies for soy-based biodiesel, which drives deforestation abroad and makes food more expensive but could provide a convenient market for unwanted grain.

Democrats have been airing ads blaming Mr. Trump’s tariffs for the pain in soybean country, and they’ve started attacking the Argentina bailout as well. But most of them aren’t complaining about his imminent farm bailout, and his recent biofuel boondoggles have bipartisan support. Mr. Trump’s incessant pandering to the farmer-industrial complex is one of the most conventional Beltway instincts he has. And it has worked for him politically; even now that crop prices are plunging and soybeans have nowhere to go, rural America remains the heart of his base.

I’ve argued that Democrats can’t out-agri-pander Mr. Trump in rural America, and now that the president has posted a meme of himself dumping on urban America, there’s never been a better time to stop trying. Mr. Trump has committed to a destructive mix of tariffs, bailouts, biofuels mandates and immigration crackdowns that will make consumers pay more for food and saddle taxpayers with more debt. It’s a bizarre combination of crony capitalism and agricultural socialism. It’s all the worst elements of big government.

by Michael Grunwald, NY Times |  Read more:
Image: Antonio Giovanni Pinna
[ed. One of my pet peeves. Almost 40 years of subsidies, with most of the money going to Big Ag (which is busy squeezing and consolidating small farms out of sight). See also: Take a Hard Look at One Agency Truly Wasting Taxpayer Dollars (NYT):]

There’s one bloated federal government agency that routinely hands out money to millionaires, billionaires, insurance companies and even members of Congress. The handouts are supposed to be a safety net for certain rural business owners during tough years, but thousands of them have received the safety-net payments for 39 consecutive years...

Even though only 1 percent of Americans farm, the U.S.D.A. employs five times as many people as the Environmental Protection Agency and occupies nearly four times as many offices as the Social Security Administration. (...)

But the real problem with the U.S.D.A. is that its subsidy programs redistribute well over $20 billion a year from taxpayers to predominantly well-off farmers. Many of those same farmers also benefit from subsidized and guaranteed loans with few strings attached, price supports and import quotas that boost food prices, lavish ad hoc aid packages after weather disasters and market downturns as well as mandates to spur production of unsustainable biofuels. A little reform to this kind of welfare could go a long way toward reassuring skeptics that the administration’s efficiency crusade isn’t only about defunding its opponents and enriching its supporters.

Microplastics Are Everywhere

You can do one simple thing to avoid them.

If you are concerned about microplastics, the world starts to look like a minefield. The tiny particles can slough off polyester clothing and swirl around in the air inside your home; they can scrape off of food packaging into your take-out food.

But as scientists zero in on the sources of microplastics — and how they get into human bodies — one factor stands out.

Microplastics, studies increasingly show, are released from exposure to heat.

“Heat probably plays the most crucial role in generating these micro- and nanoplastics,” said Kazi Albab Hussain, a postdoctoral researcher at the University of Nebraska at Lincoln.

Pour coffee into a plastic foam cup, and pieces of the cup will leach out into the coffee itself. Brew tea, and millions of microplastics and even tinier nanoplastics will spill from the tea bag into your cup. Wash your polyester clothing on high heat, and the textiles can start to break apart, sending microplastics spinning through the water supply.

In one recent study by researchers at the University of Birmingham in England, scientists analyzed 31 beverages for sale on the British market — from fruit juices and sodas to coffee and tea. They looked at particles bigger than 10 micrometers in diameter, or roughly one-fifth the width of a human hair. While all the drinks had at least a dozen microplastic particles in them on average, by far the highest numbers were in hot drinks. Hot tea, for example, had an average of 60 particles per liter, while iced tea had 31 particles. Hot coffee had 43 particles per liter, while iced coffee had closer to 37.

These particles, according to Mohamed Abdallah, a professor of geography and emerging contaminants at the university and one of the authors of the study, are coming from a range of sources — the plastic lid on a to-go cup of coffee, the small bits of plastic lining a tea bag. But when hot water is added to the mix, the rate of microplastic release increases.

“Heat makes it easier for microplastics to leach out from packaging materials,” Abdallah said.

The effect was even stronger in plastics that are older and degraded. Hot coffee prepared in an eight-year-old home coffee machine with plastic components had twice as many microplastics as coffee prepared in a machine that was only six months old.

Other research has found the same results with even smaller nanoplastics, defined as plastic particles less than one micrometer in diameter.

Scientists at the University of Nebraska, including Hussain, analyzed small plastic jars and tubs used for storing baby food and found that the containers could release more than 2 billion nanoplastics per square centimeter when heated in the microwave — significantly more than when stored at room temperature or in a refrigerator.

The same effect has been shown in studies looking at how laundry produces microplastics: Higher washing temperatures, scientists have found, lead to more tiny plastics released from synthetic clothing.

Heat, Hussain explained, is simply bad for plastic, especially plastic used to store food and drinks.

by Shannon Osaka, Washington Post |  Read more:

Image: Yaroslav Litun/iStock

Monsters From the Deep

I get that the news cycle is packed right now, but I just heard from a colleague at the Smithsonian that this is fully a GIANT SQUID BEING EATEN BY A SPERM WHALE and it’s possibly the first ever confirmed video according to a friend at NOAA ~ Rebecca R. Helm

***

"From the darkness of the deep, the mother rose slowly, her great body pulsing with effort, while the calf clung close to her side. The faint shimmer of the surface light caught on something twisting in her jaws—long pale arms, still trembling, a giant calamari dragged from the black abyss.

The calf pressed its head against the mother’s flank, curious, its small eye turning toward the strange, sprawling catch. Around them, the other whales gathered, a circle of giants, each click and creak of their voices carrying through the water like an ancient council.

The mother released a cloud of ink the squid had left behind, now dissipating in ghostly ribbons. She let the prey dangle for a moment before tearing a piece free with a practiced shake of her head. The calf tried to imitate, nudging the slack arms of the squid, but only managed to tangle its mouth in the trailing suckers. The adults rumbled with what could only be described as laughter.

High above, a shaft of sunlight pierced the water, illuminating the drifting arms of the squid like banners in the deep. The feast had begun, but it was also a lesson—the calf’s first glimpse of the abyss’s hidden monsters, and of the power its mother carried up from the dark world below."

via: here and here

The Life and Death of the American Foodie

When food culture became pop culture, a new national persona was born. We regret to inform you, it’s probably you.

When did you become such an adventurous eater?” my mom often asks me, after I’ve squealed about some meal involving jamón ibérico or numbing spices. The answer is, I don’t know, but I can think of moments throughout my life where food erupted as more than a mere meal: My cousin and his Ivy League rowing team hand-making pumpkin ravioli for me at Thanksgiving. Going to the pre-Amazon Whole Foods and giddily deciding to buy bison bacon for breakfast sandwiches assembled in a dorm kitchen. Eating paneer for the first time in India. Slurping a raw oyster in New Orleans.

What made me even want to try a raw oyster in 2004, despite everything about an oyster telling me NO, was an entire culture emerging promising me I’d be better for it. Food, I was beginning to understand from TV and magazines and whatever blogs existed then, was important. It could be an expression of culture or creativity or cachet, folk art or surrealism or science, but it was something to pay attention to. Mostly, I gleaned that to reject foodieism was to give up on a new and powerful form of social currency. I would, then, become a foodie.

To be a foodie in the mid-aughts meant it wasn’t enough to enjoy French wines and Michelin-starred restaurants. The pursuit of the “best” food, with the broadest definition possible, became a defining trait: a pastry deserving of a two-hour wait, an international trip worth taking just for a bowl of noodles. Knowing the name of a restaurant’s chef was good, but knowing the last four places he’d worked at was better — like knowing the specs of Prince’s guitars. This knowledge was meant to be shared. Foodies traded in Yelp reviews and Chowhound posts, offering tips on the most authentic tortillas and treatises on ramps. Ultimately, we foodies were fans, gleefully devoted to our subculture.

Which inevitably leads to some problems, when, say, the celebrities the subculture has put on a pedestal are revealed to be less-than-honorable actors, or when values like authenticity and craft are inevitably challenged. What it’s historically meant to be a foodie, a fan, has shifted and cracked and been reborn.

And ultimately, it has died. Or at least the term has. To be called a “foodie” now is the equivalent of being hit with an “Okay, boomer.” But while the slang may have changed, the ideals the foodie embodied have been absorbed into all aspects of American culture. There may be different words now, or no words at all, but the story of American food over the past 20 years is one of a speedrun of cultural importance. At this point, who isn’t a foodie? (...)

***

How did we get to chefs-holding-squeeze-bottles as entertainment? The 1984 Cable Communications Policy Act deregulated the industry, and by 1992, more than 60 percent of American households had a cable subscription. Food Network launched in 1993, and compared to Julia Child or Joyce Chen drawing adoring viewers on public broadcasting programs, the channel was all killer, no filler, with shows for every mood. By the early 2000s, you could geek out with Alton Brown on Good Eats, experience Italian sensuality with Molto Mario or Everyday Italian, fantasize about a richer life with Barefoot Contessa, or have fun in your busy suburban kitchen with 30 Minute Meals. Anthony Bourdain’s A Cook’s Tour gave viewers an initial taste of his particular brand of smart-alecky wonder, and there were even competition shows, like the Japanese import Iron Chef.

The premiere of 2005’s The Next Food Network Star, which later gave us Guy Fieri, baron of the big bite, was the network’s first admission that we were ready to think of food shows in terms of entertainment, not just instruction and education. But Food Network was still a food network. The mid-aughts brought the revelation that food programming didn’t have to live just there, but could be popular primetime television — when that was an actual time and not just a saying.

Then came Top Chef, inspired by the success of Bravo’s other reality competition series, Project Runway. There is no overstating Top Chef’s lasting influence on food entertainment, but off the bat it did one thing that further cemented foodieism as a bona fide subculture: Its air of professionalism gave people a vocabulary. “The real pushback from the network was but the viewers can’t taste the food,” says Lauren Zalaznick, president of Bravo at the time. But just like the experts on Project Runway could explain good draping to someone who didn’t know how to sew, Top Chef “committed to telling the story of the food in such a way that it would become attainable no matter where you were,” she says.

This gave viewers a shared language to speak about food in their own lives. Now, people who would never taste these dishes had a visual and linguistic reference for molecular gastronomy, and could speculate about Marcel Vigneron’s foams. If you didn’t know what a scallop was, you learned, as Top Chef was awash in them. Yes, you could hear Tom Colicchio critique a classic beurre blanc, but also poke, al pastor, and laksa, and now that language was yours too. And you could hear chefs speak about their own influences and inspirations, learning why exactly they thought to pair watermelon and gnocchi.

The food scene then “was more bifurcated,” says Evan Kleiman, chef and longtime host of KCRW’s Good Food. “There were super-high-end restaurants that were expensive, maybe exclusive, and for the most part represented European cuisines. And then what was called ‘ethnic food’ was often relegated to casual, family-run kind of spots.” Top Chef may have been entertainment for the upwardly mobile foodie, but in 2005, Bourdain’s No Reservations premiered on the Travel Channel, similarly emphasizing storytelling and narrative. In his hands, the best meals often didn’t even require a plate. His was a romantic appreciation of the authentic, the hole-in-the-wall, the kind of stuff that would never be served in a dining room. It set off an entire generation of (often less respectful, less considered) foodie adventurism.

“No Reservations is what got me interested in the culture of eating,” says Elazar Sontag, currently the restaurant editor at Bon Appétit. Because it was about food as culture, not as profession. But there was programming for it all. Also in 2005, Hell’s Kitchen premiered on Fox, with an amped-up recreation of a dinner service in each night’s challenge. “Hell’s Kitchen’s high-octane, insane, intense environment of a restaurant kitchen is actually what made me think, when I was maybe 12 or 13, that I want to work in restaurants,” says Sontag.

All these shows were first and foremost about gathering knowledge, whether it was what, indeed, a gastrique was, or the history of boat noodles in Thailand. It didn’t matter if you’d ever been there. The point was that you knew. “Food was becoming a different kind of cultural currency,” says Sontag. “I didn’t clock that shift happening at the time, but it’s very much continued.”

Language is meant to be spoken; knowledge is meant to be shared. Now that everyone knew there were multiple styles of ramen, there was no better place to flex about it than with a new tool: the social internet. Online, “talking about restaurants and going to restaurants became something that people could have a shared identity about,” says Rosner. “There was this perfect storm of a national explosion of gastronomic vocabulary and a platform on which everybody could show off how much they knew, learn from each other, and engage in this discovery together.” Your opinion about your corner bagel shop suddenly had a much wider relevance.

by Jaya Saxena, Eater | Read more:
Image: Julia Duffosé

Mai Tai Love

I’ve written about the Mai Tai many, many, many, many times in the past. There’s a reason for that. It’s my favorite cocktail of all time. It might not be the best cocktail in the world, but it’s pretty darn close. If I could only drink one cocktail for the rest of my life, this would be the one. I love rum passionately, and this drink is designed from the ground up to celebrate my favorite spirit. 

House Mai Tai

• 2 oz Hamilton 86 Rum
• 1 oz fresh lime juice
• 1 oz house orgeat
• 1 oz Ferrand Dry Curacao

Shake all ingredients over ice. Strain into a mai tai glass over ice and garnish with a lime wheel, cherry, and mint sprig.

House Orgeat

• 1 cup unsweetened almond milk
• 2 cups white sugar
• ¼ t orange blossom water
• ¼ sea salt

Place all ingredients in a small saucepan. Simmer over low heat until the sugar has completely dissolved. Pour into a sealable bottle and refrigerate. Keeps indefinitely.

The history of the Mai Tai is a tiki legend. As the story goes, Trader Vic was working late at the bar with some Polynesian friends, trying to find a good recipe for a bottle of 17-year-old Wray and Nephew rum that had fallen into his possession. He shook up the original Mai Tai and handed it to his friend, who exclaimed, “Mai tai!” —Polynesian for “you nailed it!’ The original 17-year-old rum is long gone, but Mai Tai enthusiasts have used a blend of excellent rums to recreate the original.

Mai Tais and margaritas are kissing cousins. If you squint your eyes and look at both recipes together, you can see how each ingredient replaces the other. Rum for tequila, curaçao for triple sec, lime juice, orgeat for agave syrup — it makes sense, kinda. It’s a useful analogy for bartenders. The margarita is the most popular cocktail in America; if you’re behind the pine, you’ve cranked out dozens by now, and you understand how to make one tarter, sweeter, or more spirit-forward for a given customer. Mai Tais are no different. The recipe I’ve provided is pretty balanced, but if you prefer a sharper, sweeter, or more rum-laden Mai Tai, it should be easy to tweak the recipe to your tastes. (It’s worth noting that Vic put a tequila version of the Mai Tai on the menu in the ‘70s, called the Pinky Gonzales.)

Unfortunately, modern pop culture seems to think that a “mai tai” is any sort of sweet rum and fruit juice combination, which results in some … interesting drinks. Captain Morgan is currently selling a canned (rumless) “Mango Mai Tai,” and a few cans of (coconut water flavored?) Cutwater Tiki Mai Tai cocktails are lurking in my pantry. I swear that the local hibachi joint once served me a “Mai Tai” with none of the original ingredients, up to and including the rum. Drink the original. Make it yourself. I’m on vacation. You deserve a treat.

Let’s talk ingredients:

Hamilton 86 Rum: My favorite rum of all time. Use your favorite. I’ve seen recipes for the Mai Tai that use no less than four different rums, including Smith and Cross, Plantation OFTD, and other rums I’d love to have in my liquor cabinet. An unaged Jamaican rum like Probitas would be great. If you’re using Bacardi, dial up the other ingredients and push the rum into the background a touch. Don’t use Captain Morgan. Please. I’m begging you.

Fresh Lime Juice: It is proving absurdly hard to get good limes in my corner of the world. Tiny, dry, juiceless limes are all too common. Look for a lime that’s the size of a decent lemon that isn’t rock hard to the touch.

Orgeat: It’s pronounced “Orzeat,” like Zsa Zsa Gabot. I can order some good almond syrups online, but they’re expensive and a pain in the butt to have delivered. This grocery-store version of the cocktail ingredient works just fine.

Ferrand Dry Curacao: This curacao is less sweet than Grand Marnier, which lets other flavors in the drink come forward. Use Grand Marnier in a pinch, but dial back the orgeat to compensate.

by Matthew Hooper, Wonkette |  Read more:

Image: uncredited

[ed. For future reference. Best cocktail, ever. See also: 196 Flavors: Mai Tai.]

Uh Oh, US Farmers Totally Screwed

And that is bad news for The Groceries.

For fucking around with the world of Trump, some groups of people are reaching the find out phase faster and harder than others. And one of those groups is among the most loyal to the regime, farmers. While farm income is technically up, it’s only because of $42 billion in socialist bailout money in the form of a 720 percent increase in ad hoc disaster payments, that so far have made up more than 23 percent of Net Farm Income in 2025. But without that, farm income is down nearly 6 percent from December. And economists with the University of Illinois report that agricultural exports dropped by nearly $5 billion in just July alone.

The reason why is no mystery! Those Trump tariffs screwed over farmers coming and going, with higher input costs for supplies like seeds, fertilizer, and tractors, and lower selling prices for commodities. So far this year, China has not purchased one single, solitary soybean, opting to shop for them in friendlier Brazil, instead.

And US soybean farmers are projected to lose roughly $100 an acre this year. Nor are Mexican or Canadian companies as interested in buying the US’s corn or rice, now that retaliatory tariffs have made them more expensive. So farmers who took out loans or dipped into capital reserves expecting to sell their crops are facing the threat of bankruptcy, and in Q1 of 2025 the number of farm bankruptcies was nearly double the level of the first quarter of 2024.

Of course Trump knew full well this was going to happen, because it happened in his first term too: He levied tariffs, farm bankruptcies reached the highest level in a decade, and he ended up giving farmers a $16 billion bailout. And now Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins says even more bailout money might be coming.

It would be simple to help out farmers without giving them any socialist bailout money. Quit tariffing fertilizer, for one thing! Even Chuck Grassley has noticed this.

There’s a guy who definitely writes his own posts, who surely does watch a lot of corn. In an interview with RFD-TV, he vented more:

“We’ve got this farm crisis now, and this President should deal with this farm crisis right now. I’m hearing from bankers. I’m hearing from people that are getting pressed by their bankers to maybe sell part of their farm to somebody, [so] that when they build up their equity, they might be able to buy it back. We haven’t had this kind of stress in agriculture since the 1980s.”

Another big-brain idea, quit tariffing tractors! Or even just make ONE tariff rate and stick to it. The tariffs aren’t only expensive, they’re bizarrely complicated, and of course, prone to shifting with the tides of Dear Leader’s ever-changing moods.
From the WSJ:

The effective tariff facing exporters now varies depending on a product’s metal content. For a machine worth $1 million with a 20% steel content, the rate would be 50% of $200,000 and 15% of the rest, resulting in a $220,000 levy per machine—or a 22% tariff. The U.S. has said it would review the metals tariff list every four months, adding to the uncertainty.

Or as Grassley put it:

“Putting 50% tariffs on things that have steel in them, when you can’t buy those things in the United States, and you need them for your tractor to be finally manufactured? There should be tariffs on things that you can’t get in the United States. Why drive up the price of John Deeres because of a tariff on something they need for the tractor that they can’t even get in the United States? It’s a stupid policy.”

Indeed, if the point of these tariffs is to start making more tractors in the US, why put kooky tariffs on the metal that tractors are made out of? If we were cynical, it might seem like a ploy to make farmland real cheap so big agribusiness can buy it all up.

And the shortage of farmworkers is another self-made Trump problem. When the regime isn’t humiliatingly rounding up and detaining people with and without proper work visas, it’s also allowing the ones who do have H-2A visas to work in conditions one federal judge called “a form of modern-day slavery,” where they’re frequently abused, get their wages stolen, and are threatened with a call to ICE if they complain. (...)

And then there’s how USAID is no more, and not buying farmers’ extra grain any more. Cruel as they are stupid, ayup.

Are Republicans starting to smell the disaster Trump is brewing? Polling shows more Republicans than Democrats are worried about the economy, and Trump’s approval rating on the top issue dumbshit voters picked him to fix, The Groceries, has been going down to poundtown. And his approval rating is underwater in most states, including the breadbasket ones. Even in Arkansas, it’s plunged to single digits.

Anyway, it’s tempting to laugh at the poor dumb rural folk who thought that Donald Trump, the man who went broke on casinos, was going to be their savior. He bailed them out before, so guess they just expect that he and Congress will keep on doing it.

But we all have to eat, and bad news for The Groceries is bad news for everybody. But good news, soyboys, maybe at least domestic soybeans will be real cheap.

by Marci Jones, Wonkette |  Read more:

Image: Tomasz Filipek on Unsplash
[ed. For a clear explanation of why so many farmers supported Trump (knowing full well the downsides). See this:

Hot Dog University

A man in a Vienna Beef apron is lecturing into a speakerphone. Somewhere, someone scribbles notes in the margins of a Costco receipt. Elsewhere, a woman slices onions with the precision of a surgeon. A teenager in Chicago buffs his stainless steel hot dog cart until it gleams like a spaceship. A former landscape mogul-turned-cannabis-entrepreneur serves 20 custom hot dogs from a hand-built stand nestled between a ski mountain in Vermont and his dispensary. In Washington State, a Silicon Valley escapee helps his social media manager capture the perfect shot of his stand. A retired math professor counts out buns in Texas. In North Carolina, a man unfurls a 14-foot banner that reads BIG SEXY DAWGS, then opens a folding chair and waits for customers outside a rowdy college bar.

Different zip codes, different lives, but somehow, they all trace the same strange road back to a place called Hot Dog University.Yes, that’s a real place — tucked into the back of the Vienna Beef factory on Chicago’s North Side. Part classroom, part test kitchen, part pilgrimage for anyone who’s ever dreamed of slinging sausages for a living.

Every graduate of Hot Dog U knows the drill. They've studied the sacred script. They know the snap of the casing is non-negotiable. They've practiced the topping order like it’s a choreography: yellow mustard, neon green relish, chopped onions, tomato wedges, a pickle spear, sport peppers, and just a dash of celery salt.

And they all know the cardinal rule, taught by their P.H.D. (that’s Professor of Hot Dogs): no ketchup. Unless you still ride a tricycle (and can prove it), you're pregnant (we don’t argue with cravings), or it’s your wedding day (and we’d better see the dress).

It’s easy to laugh, until it isn’t.

This is serious business and the students at Hot Dog U are gearing up. Not just for summer, but for something bigger — independence, reinvention, the hope that if they can just get the cart to the right corner, maybe, just maybe, everything might work out.

It’s a little Ted Lasso, a little Abbott Elementary — big-hearted, scrappy, and, unexpectedly, profound. Our story begins in a classroom where the lessons are about hot dogs, sure. But this is also a story about failure and second chances, hustle and hope, and the deeply American belief that a sidewalk, a spatula, and a dream might still be enough.

In my family, hot dogs were never just food. They were in-between moments: passed across bleacher seats at ballgames, devoured at gas station stops, slightly charred at backyard cookouts. Hot dogs became shorthand for time spent together.

So when I set out to report this story, it wasn’t because I had a grand theory about encased meats. It was something more subtle: a soft spot for a food that always felt like home. And I didn’t expect to find much more than nostalgia.

But what I found at Hot Dog U wasn’t just a quirky trade school with a great logo. People arrive from burned-out careers and unexpected life turns, from family kitchens and military mess halls, carrying stories as varied as their menus. They leave with a cart, a diploma, and — if it works — a shot at something better.

There’s something quietly radical about that. In a country where “entrepreneur” has become a buzzword for tech bros and hustlers, the students at Hot Dog U are a different breed. They're working-class dreamers. Retired couples. First-generation families. People who don’t want to disrupt the industry. They just want a patch of sidewalk, a roll of napkins, and a line of hungry customers.

by Celia Aniskovich, Switchboard | Read more:
Image: Hot Dog University poster
[ed. From things I've heard it can be a pretty cutthroat business. Mostly about getting the right spot.]

Can This Tree Still Save Us?

ʻUlu, bia, uru, mā: Breadfruit has been lauded as a climate-resilient solution to world food security. That’s not proving true in the Marshall Islands, where some have relied on it for centuries.

A breadfruit tree stands in the middle of Randon Jother’s property, its lanky trunks feeding a network of sinewy limbs. The remnants of this season’s harvest weigh heavy on its branches. Its vibrant leaves and football-sized fruit may appear enormous to the untrained eye, but Jother is concerned.

They used to be longer than his hand and forearm combined. He points to his bicep, to show how fat they once were. Now they’re small and malformed by most people’s standards here in the Marshall Islands. Mā, the Marshallese term for breadfruit, used to ripen in May. Now they come in June, sometimes July.

 

It’s been headed this way for the past seven years, Jother says as he toes the tree’s abundant leaf litter. It’s a concerning development on this uniquely agricultural and fertile part of Majuro Atoll, home to the country’s highest point: eight feet above sea level.

“I think it’s the salt,” Jother says. His home is less than 100 yards from Majuro lagoon, a body of seawater that threatens to overflow onto the land during a storm or king tide, which over the past decade years has happened several times in Majuro and across the islands. The Pacific Ocean also threatens to salt the island’s ever precious groundwater, which Jother says is already happening. When he showers, he can feel it in his hair, on his skin.

The record heat waves, massive droughts and an increasing number of unpredicted and intense weather events don’t help his trees either.

Most assume the assailant is climate change, to which researchers and experts have said the Indigenous Pacific crop would be almost immune — a potential salve for the world’s imperiled food system. For places like Hawaiʻi, they have predicted breadfruit growing conditions may even get better.

But here, on Majuro and throughout the Marshall Islands, the future appears bleak for a crop that has helped sustain populations for more than 2,000 years.

 

Rice has overtaken the fruit’s status as the preferred staple over the past century, along with other ultraprocessed imports, a change that feeds myriad health complications, including outsized rates of diabetes, making non-communicable diseases the leading cause of death across these islands.

The diseases are a Pacific-wide issue, one Marshall Islands health and agriculture officials are eager to counter with a return to a traditional diet. Climate change is working against them. (...)

Mā is part of an important trinity for the Marshall Islands, which also includes coconut (ni) and pandanus (bōb), that made their way to the islands’ shores on Micronesian seafarers’ boats somewhere between 2,000 and 3,000 years ago.

Six varieties are most common in the Marshall Islands, though at least 20 are found throughout the islands. Hundreds more breadfruit types can be found in the Pacific, tracing back to the breadnut, a tree endemic to the southwestern Pacific island of New Guinea.

The tree provided security for island populations, requiring little upkeep to offer abundant harvests. Each tree produces anywhere from 350 to 1,100 pounds of breadfruit a year, with two harvest seasons. Every tree produces half a million calories in protein and carbohydrates.

 

Like many Pacific island countries, the mā tree’s historic uses were diverse. Its coarse leaves sanded and smoothed vessels made with the tree’s buoyant wood. Its roots were part of traditional medicine. The fruit was cooked underground and roasted black over coals. And it was preserved, to make bwiro, a tradition that survives through people like Angelina Mathusla.

For Mathusla, who lives just over a mile from farmer Jother, making bwiro is a process that comes with every harvest.

The process begins with a pile of petaaktak, a variety of breadfruit common around Majuro and valued for its size and lack of seeds. On this occasion, a relative rhythmically cleaves the football-sized mā in half with a machete, then into smaller pieces, before tossing them into a pile next to a group of women. Some wear gloves to avoid the sticky white latex that seeps from the fruit’s dense, white flesh, used by their forebears to seal canoes or catch birds.

Mā trees use that latex to help heal or protect themselves against diseases and insects. The tree’s adaptation to the atolls and their soils has traditionally been partly thanks to symbiotic relationships with other flora. (...)

A Shallow Body Of Research

Four framed photographs hang on a whitewashed wall of Diane Ragone’s Kauaʻi home. Two black-and-white photos, taken by her late videographer husband, show Jimi Hendrix and Jerry Garcia playing guitar on stage. The other two are of breadfruit.

Now in the throes of writing a memoir, of sorts, Ragone is revisiting almost 40 years of records — photos and videos, and journal entries, some of which leave her asking “Damn, why was I so cryptic?”

But Ragone’s research, since her arrival to Hawaiʻi from Virginia in 1979, forms the bedrock of most modern research into the tree’s history and its survival throughout the Pacific. The most obvious example spans 10 acres in Hāna, on Maui, where more than 150 cultivars of the fruit Ragone collected thrive at the National Tropical Botanical Garden’s Kahanu Garden.

Less obvious is how her work has helped researchers like Noa Kekuewa Lincoln track the plant’s place in global history and the environment. Lincoln, who says “Diane’s kind of considered the Queen of Breadfruit,” has been central to more recent research into how the plant will survive in the future.

Together with others, they act as breadfruit evangelists, promoting the crop as a poverty panacea and global warming warrior — a touchstone for Pacific islanders not only to their past but a more sustainable future.

Ragone, as the founding director of the 22-year-old Breadfruit Institute, helped distribute more than 100,000 trees around the world, to equatorial nations with poverty issues and suitable climes, like Liberia, Zambia and Haiti. But it all started in Hawaiʻi with just over 10,000 young breadfruit.

 

In some places, rising temperatures and changes in rainfall will actually help breadfruit, according to research from Lincoln and his Indigenous Cropping Systems Laboratory, which assessed the trees’ performance under different climate change projections through 2070.

Running climate change scenarios on 1,200 trees across 56 sites in Hawaiʻi, Lincoln’s lab found breadfruit production would largely remain the same for the next 45 years.

“Nowhere in Hawaiʻi gets too hot for it,” Lincoln says. “Pretty much as soon as you leave the coast, you start getting declining yields because it’s too cold.”

Compare breadfruit to other traditional staples — rice, wheat, soybeans, corn. The plant grows deep roots and lives for decades, requires little upkeep or annual planting, resists most environmental stressors and can withstand high temperatures.

Few nations know the urgency of climate change better than the Marshall Islands, its islands and atolls a bellwether for how heat, drought, intense and sporadic natural disasters and sea level rise can upend lives.

The trees can even survive some saltwater intrusion, according to Lincoln’s research. But a consistent presence of salt is another matter, attacking the roots and making trees unable to absorb freshwater and nutrients. As roots rot, leaves and fruit die.

“The salinity,” Ragone says, before letting out a sigh. “How do you even address the salinity issue?”.

Marshall Islands government officials have turned to the International Atomic Energy Association for help, asking its experts about using nuclear radiation to create mutant hybrids of the nation’s most important crops — giant swamp taro, sweet potatoes and, of course, breadfruit.

The technique has been used for almost a century by the atomic association and Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, predominantly on rice and barley, never on breadfruit or for a Pacific nation.

They have their work cut out for them. To find a viable candidate, immune to salty soils and heat, about 2,000 plants would need to be irradiated, according to Cinthya Zorrilla of the atomic energy association’s Centre of Nuclear Techniques in Food and Agriculture. One of those plants, once mutated, might exhibit the desired traits. (...)

Even if those obstacles were overcome, it wouldn’t be a quick fix. Hybridizing plants through radiation can take about 10 years, Zorrilla says, with a need to compare, contrast and correlate results from labs and field plots and laboratories. For breadfruit, the timeframe may be even longer.

“It’s really complicated,” Zorilla says. “All this is a huge investment, in monetary terms and also in time.”

by Thomas Heaton, Honolulu Civil Beat |  Read more:

Images: Thomas Heaton/Chewy Lin