(feat. Pink and John Legend)
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
The Dirty Dozen: Pesticides in Food
by Janice Lloyd
Apples are at the top of the list of produce most contaminated with pesticides in a report published today by the Environmental Working Group (EWG), a public health advocacy group.
Its seventh annual report analyzed government data on 53 fruits and vegetables, identifying which have the most and least pesticides after washing and peeling. For produce found to be highest in pesticides, the group recommends buying organic.
Apples moved up three spots from last year, replacing celery at the top of the most-contaminated list; 92% of apples contained two or more pesticides.
"We think what's happening to apples is more pesticides and fungicides are being applied after the harvest so the fruit can have a longer shelf life," says EWG analyst Sonya Lunder. "Pesticides might be in small amounts, but we don't know what the subtle, long-term effects of many of these pesticides are yet."
The worst offenders also include strawberries (No. 3) and imported grapes (No. 7). Onions top the "clean" list, found to be lowest in pesticides.
Read more:
Apples are at the top of the list of produce most contaminated with pesticides in a report published today by the Environmental Working Group (EWG), a public health advocacy group.
Its seventh annual report analyzed government data on 53 fruits and vegetables, identifying which have the most and least pesticides after washing and peeling. For produce found to be highest in pesticides, the group recommends buying organic.Apples moved up three spots from last year, replacing celery at the top of the most-contaminated list; 92% of apples contained two or more pesticides.
"We think what's happening to apples is more pesticides and fungicides are being applied after the harvest so the fruit can have a longer shelf life," says EWG analyst Sonya Lunder. "Pesticides might be in small amounts, but we don't know what the subtle, long-term effects of many of these pesticides are yet."
The worst offenders also include strawberries (No. 3) and imported grapes (No. 7). Onions top the "clean" list, found to be lowest in pesticides.
Read more:
Airbus Transparent Plane
Revolution in air travel: Airbus reveals the transparent plane
Airbus has unveiled the futuristic design of a transparent plane that will come around 2050 for panoramic views. The plane is designed in such a way that the flyers would be able to see through the cabin and the roof. With this futuristic travel option, the business class and economy class will be replaced with custom-made sectors that offer space for relaxation, interaction and working.
The see-through aircraft cabin will come with various options that will allow the rider enjoy panoramic views outside the aircraft. The comfortable seats could be made to take up any size and shape for each passenger. If we talk about entertainment, the boring small TV screen will be replaced by a larger Interactive zone together with virtual holographic golf courses or virtual clothes shopping.
According to the Airbus engineering executive vice-president Charles Champion:
Our research shows that passengers of 2050 will expect a seamless travel experience while also caring for the environment. The concept cabin is designed with that in mind, and shows that the journey can be as much a voyage of discovery as the destination.via:
Aging: To Treat, or Not to Treat?
The possibility of treating aging is not just an idle fantasy
The 20th century brought both profound suffering and profound relief to people around the world. On the one hand, it produced political lunacy, war and mass murder on an unprecedented scale. But there were also extraordinary gains—not least in public health, medicine and food production. In the developed world, we no longer live in constant fear of infectious disease. Furthermore, a Malthusian catastrophe of global population growth exceeding food production—a terrifying prospect predicted first in the 18th century—did not materialize. This is largely due to a steep decline in birth rates, for which we can thank the education, emancipation and rationality of women. Most people in the developed world can now expect to live long lives.
Yet, as too often happens, the solution of one problem spawns others. Because we are having fewer children and living longer, the developed world is now filling up with old people. In Japan, for example, where the population is aging particularly quickly, the ratio of people less than 20 years old to those over 65 is plummeting, from 9.3 in 1950 to a predicted 0.59 in 2025. In Europe and the United States, we see ever more bald and grey heads on streets and in parks and shopping malls. Although this is something to celebrate, old age unfortunately has myriad ways of making us ill. It brings cardiovascular disease that leads to heart attacks and strokes; neurodegenerative diseases such as Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s that erode the self; and macular degeneration, which blinds. And, of course, there is cancer. Aging has been described as the greatest of all carcinogens. Like the pandemic of obesity, the increasing number of people living long enough to experience these illnesses is, in some ways, a side effect of progress. Now we face this challenging question: Should we attack the underlying cause of this suffering? Should we try to “cure” aging?
I am a scientist working in the growing field of biogerontology—the biology of aging. The cause of aging remains one of the great unsolved scientific mysteries. Still, the past decade has brought real progress in our understanding, raising the prospect that treatments might one day be feasible. Yet aging is not just another disease. And the prospect of treating aging is extraordinary in terms of the potential impact on the human condition. So, would it be ethical to try to treat it?
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Monday, June 13, 2011
The Hidden Power of Typography
by Stephanie Orma (this article originally appeared in Imprint)
"Widows and orphans give us sleepless nights." In any other sense, that phrase might conjure up images of black spiders or a certain little redhead named Annie. But when you realize the words were spoken by partner and typographer-extraordinaire Caz Hildebrand of London-based graphic design firm Here Design, the picture changes mighty fast. She adds, "All of us in the Here studio are unhealthily obsessed with the finer aspects of typesetting." And man -- does it show.
Their attention to typography is spot-on awesome. I was first introduced to Here Design's work when I was in a Barnes and Noble last fall and couldn't take my eyes off the book "The Geometry of Pasta." Then writer Ellen Shapiro interviewed Hildebrand about designing the gorgeous cookbook and I was irreversibly hooked on the studio's work. (By the way, if you haven't seen the typolicious teaser animation for "The Geometry of Pasta" where the letters in "Parmesan" literally break off like grated cheese, check it out asap).
But beyond designing cookbooks, Here Design's work is an orgasmic feast for the obsessive-compulsive type geek in all of us. I was hungry to learn more about their type fetish, so we got to talking. The studio was set up in December 2005 in East London by multi-disciplinary designers Kate Marlow, Caz Hildebrand and Mark Paton. Since then, Here Design has been "crafting quietly powerful design" from restaurant branding to cucumber crate packaging (yes, you read that right!) and everything in between.
Read more:
"Widows and orphans give us sleepless nights." In any other sense, that phrase might conjure up images of black spiders or a certain little redhead named Annie. But when you realize the words were spoken by partner and typographer-extraordinaire Caz Hildebrand of London-based graphic design firm Here Design, the picture changes mighty fast. She adds, "All of us in the Here studio are unhealthily obsessed with the finer aspects of typesetting." And man -- does it show.
Images courtesy Here Design
Their attention to typography is spot-on awesome. I was first introduced to Here Design's work when I was in a Barnes and Noble last fall and couldn't take my eyes off the book "The Geometry of Pasta." Then writer Ellen Shapiro interviewed Hildebrand about designing the gorgeous cookbook and I was irreversibly hooked on the studio's work. (By the way, if you haven't seen the typolicious teaser animation for "The Geometry of Pasta" where the letters in "Parmesan" literally break off like grated cheese, check it out asap).
But beyond designing cookbooks, Here Design's work is an orgasmic feast for the obsessive-compulsive type geek in all of us. I was hungry to learn more about their type fetish, so we got to talking. The studio was set up in December 2005 in East London by multi-disciplinary designers Kate Marlow, Caz Hildebrand and Mark Paton. Since then, Here Design has been "crafting quietly powerful design" from restaurant branding to cucumber crate packaging (yes, you read that right!) and everything in between.
Read more:
Why I Hate 3-D (And You Should Too)
By Roger Ebert.
3-D is a waste of a perfectly good dimension. Hollywood’s current crazy stampede toward it is suicidal. It adds nothing essential to the moviegoing experience. For some, it is an annoying distraction. For others, it creates nausea and headaches. It is driven largely to sell expensive projection equipment and add a $5 to $7.50 surcharge on already expensive movie tickets. Its image is noticeably darker than standard 2-D. It is unsuitable for grown-up films of any seriousness. It limits the freedom of directors to make films as they choose. For moviegoers in the PG-13 and R ranges, it only rarely provides an experience worth paying a premium for.
That’s my position. I know it’s heresy to the biz side of show business. After all, 3-D has not only given Hollywood its biggest payday ($2.7 billion and counting for Avatar), but a slew of other hits. The year’s top three films—Alice in Wonderland, How to Train Your Dragon, and Clash of the Titans—were all projected in 3-D, and they’re only the beginning. The very notion of Jackass in 3-D may induce a wave of hysterical blindness, to avoid seeing Steve-O’s you-know-what in that way. But many directors, editors, and cinematographers agree with me about the shortcomings of 3-D. So do many movie lovers—even executives who feel stampeded by another Hollywood infatuation with a technology that was already pointless when their grandfathers played with stereoscopes. The heretics’ case, point by point:
Read more:
image credit:
3-D is a waste of a perfectly good dimension. Hollywood’s current crazy stampede toward it is suicidal. It adds nothing essential to the moviegoing experience. For some, it is an annoying distraction. For others, it creates nausea and headaches. It is driven largely to sell expensive projection equipment and add a $5 to $7.50 surcharge on already expensive movie tickets. Its image is noticeably darker than standard 2-D. It is unsuitable for grown-up films of any seriousness. It limits the freedom of directors to make films as they choose. For moviegoers in the PG-13 and R ranges, it only rarely provides an experience worth paying a premium for. That’s my position. I know it’s heresy to the biz side of show business. After all, 3-D has not only given Hollywood its biggest payday ($2.7 billion and counting for Avatar), but a slew of other hits. The year’s top three films—Alice in Wonderland, How to Train Your Dragon, and Clash of the Titans—were all projected in 3-D, and they’re only the beginning. The very notion of Jackass in 3-D may induce a wave of hysterical blindness, to avoid seeing Steve-O’s you-know-what in that way. But many directors, editors, and cinematographers agree with me about the shortcomings of 3-D. So do many movie lovers—even executives who feel stampeded by another Hollywood infatuation with a technology that was already pointless when their grandfathers played with stereoscopes. The heretics’ case, point by point:
Read more:
image credit:
El Bulli
[ed. Excellent additional story in the NY Times about the spin-off implications from the close of El Bulli, here:] by Grant Achatz
When Ferran Adrià announced last week that El Bulli would not reopen at the end of a two-year hiatus in 2014—or, if it did reopen, it would not be in anything like its present form — we wrote to Grant Achatz for his reaction. Mr. Achatz worked at El Bulli for a few weeks in 2000, and what he saw there shaped his career. Now the chef at Alinea in Chicago, Mr. Achatz wrote back with this reflection, based in part on an excerpt from his forthcoming memoir “Life, On the Line.”
I arrived at The French Laundry early one night so I could get some prep done for a VIP table when I saw Thomas Keller gliding through the kitchen toward me. Every morning he would greet each cook with a handshake, and depending on the time, a smile. As he approached on this day, I noticed something in his hand. He placed the October 1999 issue of Gourmet on the stainless-steel counter in front of me and asked me to open to the page marked with a yellow sticky note.
I thumbed to the page, finding an unfamiliar, gruff looking chef surrounded by floating oranges. Who is this guy, I wondered…and why is he juggling citrus fruits?
In a short time, that guy would become known as the best chef in the world. His name was Ferran Adrià .
Chef Keller looked down at the magazine and spoke softly: Read this tonight when you go home. His food really sounds interesting, and right up your alley. I think you should go stage there this summer….I will arrange it for you.
Seven months later I landed at the Barcelona airport. I had not planned very well and had neglected to make arrangements for traveling to El Bulli, two hours north by car. My stage started the next day. As luck would have it, while walking through the airport I ran into a group of American chefs. Wylie Dufresne, Paul Kahan, Suzanne Goin, Michael Schlow and a couple of journalists had been brought over by the Spanish Tourism Board to promote Spanish gastronomy. We talked for a bit before I asked where they were headed. A restaurant called El Bulli, Wylie said, have you ever heard of it? Needless to say I hitched a ride with them on their posh tour bus.
When I arrived with the American chefs I felt a bit like a leech. After all, I was just a sous chef at the time, they were all established chefs on a funded trip. None of them knew me, and furthermore I was there to work. When we arrived at El Bulli the co-owner and maitre d’hotel, Juli Soler, welcomed the group at the door, and the Spanish official who was leading the tour pulled him aside and explained my story. I was prepared to put on a chef coat, right then and there, and start working. Juli walked off to the kitchen, and when he returned he said, “Ferran wants you to eat with the group.” Well, now I really feel like a parasite, but if you insist…
I was a 25-year-old sous chef at what most considered, at the time, the best restaurant in the world. I had grown up in a restaurant since the age of 5. I graduated with honors from what most considered the best culinary school in the world. I thought I knew food and cooking.
I had no idea what we were in for. Honestly, none of us did.
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Living Without a Pulse
by Carrie Feibel
The search for the perfect artificial heart seems never-ending. After decades of trial and error, surgeons remain stymied in their quest for a machine that does not wear out, break down or cause clots and infections.
But Dr. Billy Cohn and Dr. Bud Frazier at the Texas Heart Institute say they have developed a machine that could avoid all that with simple whirling rotors — which means people may soon get a heart that has no beat.
Inside the institute's animal research laboratory is an 8-month-old calf with a soft brown coat named Abigail. Cohn and Frazier removed Abigail's heart and replaced it with two centrifugal pumps.
"If you listened to her chest with a stethoscope, you wouldn't hear a heartbeat," says Cohn. "If you examined her arteries, there's no pulse. If you hooked her up to an EKG, she'd be flat-lined."
The pumps spin Abigail's blood and move it through her body.
"By every metric we have to analyze patients, she's not living," Cohn says. "But here you can see she's a vigorous, happy, playful calf licking my hand."
Human Trials
In March, after practicing on 38 calves, Cohn and Frazier felt confident enough to try their device on a human patient. They chose Craig Lewis, a 55-year-old who was dying from amyloidosis, which causes a buildup of abnormal proteins. The proteins clog the organs so much that they stop working.
In Lewis' case, his heart became so damaged, doctors said he had about 12 hours left to live.
His wife, Linda, said they should try the artificial heart.
Read more:
The search for the perfect artificial heart seems never-ending. After decades of trial and error, surgeons remain stymied in their quest for a machine that does not wear out, break down or cause clots and infections.
But Dr. Billy Cohn and Dr. Bud Frazier at the Texas Heart Institute say they have developed a machine that could avoid all that with simple whirling rotors — which means people may soon get a heart that has no beat. Inside the institute's animal research laboratory is an 8-month-old calf with a soft brown coat named Abigail. Cohn and Frazier removed Abigail's heart and replaced it with two centrifugal pumps.
"If you listened to her chest with a stethoscope, you wouldn't hear a heartbeat," says Cohn. "If you examined her arteries, there's no pulse. If you hooked her up to an EKG, she'd be flat-lined."
The pumps spin Abigail's blood and move it through her body.
"By every metric we have to analyze patients, she's not living," Cohn says. "But here you can see she's a vigorous, happy, playful calf licking my hand."
Human Trials
In March, after practicing on 38 calves, Cohn and Frazier felt confident enough to try their device on a human patient. They chose Craig Lewis, a 55-year-old who was dying from amyloidosis, which causes a buildup of abnormal proteins. The proteins clog the organs so much that they stop working.
In Lewis' case, his heart became so damaged, doctors said he had about 12 hours left to live.
His wife, Linda, said they should try the artificial heart.
Read more:
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Green Bean Bacon Bundles
Green Bean Bacon Bundles
makes about 10-12 bundles
1 pound fresh green beans
10-12 slices of thick-cut bacon
2 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon brown sugar
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Spray a 9 x 13 baking dish with non-stick spray.
Wash and thoroughly dry green beans, then season with salt and pepper. Bundle together about 5-8 green beans – this will depend on your size of beans and the amount of beans you get for one pound. Bundle together as many as you’d like! Using a slice of bacon, wrap it around the center of the beans to hold it together. Lay the bundle bacon seam side down in the baking dish to hold it together. Repeat with remaining beans.
Heat a small saucepan over low heat. Add butter, brown sugar and garlic and whisk until melted and combined. Using a pastry brush, brush the mixture over top of each green bean bundle. Cover the bundles with foil and bake for 35 minutes. Remove foil and bake for 10-15 minutes more, just until bacon gets crispy.
via:
How to Turn a Pallet into a Garden
Find a Pallet
The first thing you need to do is–obviously–find a pallet. I’ve had good luck finding them in dumpsters behind supermarkets. No need to be squeamish. It doesn’t smell. At least, it doesn’t smell that bad. Don’t just take the first pallet you find. You’re looking for one with all the boards in good condition, no nails sticking out, no rotting, etc. If you intend to put edibles in your pallet, be sure to find one that was heat treated as opposed to fumigated with pesticides.
Collect Your Supplies
For this project, you’ll need the pallet you found, 2 large bags of potting soil, 16 six packs of annual flowers (one six pack per opening on the face of the pallet, and two six packs per opening on the top of the completed pallet garden), a small roll of landscape fabric, a staple gun, staples, and sand paper.
Get Your Pallet into Shape
Once you’ve dragged your pallet home, give it a once over. Are any of the boards a little loose? Is the wood chipping in places? Nail down any loose boards, and use sand paper to smooth down any rough spots.
Let the Stapling Begin!
Decide which side of the pallet will be the bottom when the pallet garden is completed and leaning against the wall. You are going to be covering the bottom, back, and sides with landscape fabric, leaving the spaces between the slats and the top uncovered (you’ll be planting flowers in the uncovered spaces).
Lay the pallet face down. Roll the landscape fabric over the back. Cut two identically sized pieces that are long enough to go from the top edge of the back of the pallet and wrap all the way around the bottom, plus a few extra inches.
For Better or for Worse
by David Finkel
Everyone has had something to say.
Everyone has had something to say.
Her mother said: Get your hair cut. It'll make you feel better.
Her father said: Monitor the joint bank accounts. He might empty them.
Her sister said: Take your time. See a counselor.
Her counselor said: Have faith. It will work out.
Her friends said: Get even. Nail him in the settlement.
Even he had something to say, delivered in a seven-page letter a few weeks after he left.
"Val:" he'd written, "Let me begin this by stating that I am truly sorry that all of this is a painful experience for all involved, and that it comes with difficult issues and situations. I'm confident that in the future all of this will be worked out, feelings will recover, and our lives will return to something that is normal and acceptable. This, unfortunately, is a step toward that future . . ."
And so, trying to gain some control, she has come to a lawyer to see about getting a divorce. Her name is Valerie. Her maiden name is Perrino. Her married name is something she doesn't want published because she has two young children, and because she has no idea what is about to happen to their lives. She is 34, lives in Northern Virginia, has lost 17 pounds since the day her husband left, and now finds herself in Vienna, across from a lawyer named Mark Barondess, who is sitting beneath a large photograph of a snarling Doberman pinscher. "Okay," he is saying, pushing some papers he has prepared across the desk for her to sign. "Here it is." It is the moment she has been dreading. Earlier in the day, thinking about it, she nearly canceled the appointment. She had woken up with a headache. She had driven to Vienna wondering if she would be physically sick. She had come into Barondess's office, noticed the photograph of the Doberman and almost panicked. Up to this point, though, she'd surprised herself with how well she'd maintained her composure, even when Barondess was going over what he'd written, which was a reduction of her marriage to 12 cold paragraphs of type.
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