Save Your Fork… There’s Pie

There’s an episode in the first season of Chef! where the main character finds himself in the back of a truck on an abandoned country road doing a shady deal in illegal goods, all for the purpose of acquiring some unpasteurized Stilton.

The flavour (and health) benefits of raw milk, and raw milk cheese are much debated, and here in Ontario, it’s currently on everybody’s radar as a farmer producing raw milk for a number of customers including high-end restaurants and, oh yeah, the family of the provincial finance minister, is in the news. Seems the government raided his farm and removed all of his equipment.

The debate becomes multi-faceted in light of the number of recent scares and recalls of what was supposed to be safe, healthy produce – spinach, organic juice and melons have all been under scrutiny lately, and the government is intensely paranoid about any food producer not following strict guidelines.

As consumers, we have the right to expect food produced in a safe, clean environment, and government standards are the only way to ensure that. On the other hand, all of the issues with recent outbreaks have been within the industrialized farming framework; small family farms working to create a niche product, especially one for the high-end consumer, tend to set their own standards that put the government regulations to shame.

Thus it becomes a fight for the small independant farmer when the government essentially wants to destroy everything about his product that makes it flavourful and unique.

I don’t drink milk, so I can’t say from personal experience that raw milk tastes better than pasteurized, but in terms of cheese, I’ll take a raw milk cheese over that scary brick from the supermarket any day. Even in specific styles of cheese, there is no comparison between a pasteurized Canadian brie and a gorgeous single-milk raw brie de meaux.

This is a tough one all around. I can understand the need and desire for pasteurization within the mainstream factory farm industry, because milks are blended together and levels of quality and care vary greatly from farm to farm. But for an individual farmer who is creating a product to the most exacting standards, I suspect the health risk is minimal compared to the benefits of a more natural product.

I admit it, I am one of those people who hardly ever buys stuff at craft shows, firm in my belief that I can make it myself.

There are some situations where this is not the case, and I will happily buy the items I know I’m not skilled enough or not interested in making. I come home from craft shows with a lot of handmade soap.

Having done the craft fair circuit when I was making purses, I know the frustration the artisan feels when someone comes along, handles the goods and then sniffs “I could make a better one of these at home for so much cheaper!” In most cases, sure, if you have the skills, you can make it cheaper because the cost of labour and general business expenses (ie. the rental cost of the craft show booth, which can be astronomical) adds a lot onto the retail cost. So while I will still come home and make my own better version of something that catches my eye, I try to at least not be condescending about it.

All that ends when I hit the food section, however. Yesterday Melsky and I hit the One of a Kind Show, where a whole section of the over 750 vendors was dedicated to food.

Now, there are some of the food vendors whose wares I buy. The folks from Forbes Wild Food, for instance, because pickled spruce tips are not something I could make readily myself. But I am chagrined every year by the vendors selling obviously bad quality stuff. Most of the vendors at One of a Kind have a whole marketing scheme in place, and certainly they must do well, but why on earth would I pay $14 for a tiny little fruitcake that is dry and bland and doesn’t hold a candle to my own? Likewise the booth selling cranberry pudding. Sure, you can pour hot caramel sauce on anything and make it taste good, but the pud really isn’t special. Certainly not $30 special.

The redundancy gets to be a bit much after a while too, although this is the norm for all aspects of the craft show, not just the food section. After a while all of the pottery, designer clothing and “one of-a-kind, we only made 1500 of this item” cute hats start to blend together. In the food section, it’s the chocolates that all melt together in my head. Of the dozen booths selling truffles or handmade chocolates, only one stands out in my mind, that made their truffles flat and square and were exquisitely decorated. And even then, I took their card, came home and looked up their website and sat down to determine how to make the things myself.

I know for Melsky, one vendor with handmade toffee stood out, and we went back for additional samples. Yeah, it was pretty good stuff, having won a couple of awards. But the batch of chocolate almond toffee I whipped up once I got home after the show was probably better.

The same thing happened on the weekend at the Gourmet Food and Wine Expo. Now I can’t make wine, so I’m happy to buy that. But as tasty as the coconut curry shortbread I sampled was, I’m not going to pay for it when I can make my own. And $8 for a tiny little bag just isn’t happening. I know these folks have to make a profit, and I’m sure there are plenty of people who love shortbread but hate making it who are willing for pay for the stuff. But me, I’m going to be the gal trying multiple samples while I try to figure out spicing and butter to sugar ratios so I can be one of those jerks who goes home and makes a better cheaper version myself.

After years of writing about events in Toronto, there are times when I still can’t help but feel like an imposter. I’m not – I’ve never attended an event and not covered it fully, but there have been times when I’ve found myself wedged against a buffet table at the ROM, balancing a plate of pastries and a glass of wine, while I try to avoid getting in the shot for Fashion Television or the CBC, that I begin to doubt my credentials. Nevermind that the lovely PR ladies all assure me that the fact that I give them any coverage at all puts me in their good books (you wouldn’t believe the number of people who attend media previews for the free grub and never write a word about the event or show), but as a kind of weird looking gal writing for various Internet sites, I still often feel as if I’ve somehow sneaked in and could get caught and kicked out at any second.

When in the same situation but also presented with all the free chocolate I can stuff into my little chocolate-loving mouth, my guilt does overtime. Not the least because chocolates are one of those things that you are only supposed to have one or two of. You don’t want to make a pig of yourself, after all. So when we walked into the Ganong Chocs-o-Fun party last night, the feeling of being “kids in a candy store” was close to the surface.

The Ganong Delecto selection.

Apparently Ganong does this delightful event every year, but this year it was a real celebration. Not only have they revamped their assorted chocolate collections, but author David Folster (who had already written a narrative history of the Ganong company) had published a pictorial book on the New Brunswick chocolate company as well. Greg was invited via his Bar Towel connections, and I immediately contacted my editor at Gremolata to see if he wanted me to cover the story. The answer was affirmative, and I immediately set to drinking gallons of orange juice and popping multi-vitamins; I have an awful habit of coming down with colds just before a big event and half of our building is sick with some sort of flu. Damned if I was going to miss a party all about chocolate.

This is actually half of the table of chocolates – there’s a matching display to the right of the shot.

Held at the Dominion Club, a refurbished bank building with high ceilings, leather club chairs and marble tables, the Chocs-O-Fun party was a laid back affair. There were lots of tasty finger foods, and an open bar (where I had a bit too much red wine), and of course, the huge display of Ganong chocolates that we were encouraged to help ourselves to.

Sandwiches and finger foods were complimented by many many trays of passed hors d’oeuvre including spring rolls and samosas. Note – two sandwiches, three spring rolls and two glasses of wine does not constitute dinner, even if you do fill up on chocolate.

I spent a bit of time talking to Ganong spokesperson Bryanna Ganong without realizing who she was. And briefly put my foot in my mouth when I admitted that Chicken Bones, the company’s signature Christmas candy, was not really one of my favourites. It actually was as a kid, but in recent years my folks send me huge boxes of the stuff at Christmas which Greg and I cannot possibly finish before it all begins to stick together in a huge pink lump. And then I complimented her on the wonderful nougat the company makes, only to be told that in the overhaul of the assorted boxes, the nougat had been deleted. Folks seem to prefer the nuts and caramels these days, it seems. Hopefully my praise of the Ganong Fruitfulls (fruit jelly candies made with real fruit) made me seem like less of an idiot. The Fruitfulls are one of the few jelly candies on the market that are vegetarian, using pectin instead of gelatin. As Greg and I both like these, we tend to buy them with some frequency.

Chocolate-covered Fruitfulls

After having a nice chat with Pamela Cuthbert, the president of the Toronto Slow Food chapter, we grabbed our bags of swag and headed out the door, full of more chocolate than we’ve ever eaten in one sitting.

But it wasn’t enough. I mentioned to Greg that Lindt was also doing a chocolate event, a few blocks away at the Hilton hotel. It had started at 5:30 though, so we might have missed it.

Then, like two crackheads in search of a hit, we made our way through the deserted streets of downtown towards the Hilton hotel. If there was more chocolate to be had, it would be ours. It’s probably a good thing that by the time we got to the Hilton, they were dismantling the Lindt display and there was no chocolate in sight.

Today, I’m recovering from what could possibly be “too much chocolate” syndrome. And trying to avoid feeding my habit by opening the boxes that we got to take home.

Swag! The book is my review copy – each bag of goodies included two boxes of assorted chocolates and a box of Fruitfulls (which are mine, all mine!).

The problem with making really tasty and delicious holiday treats is that once you start making the things, people expect you to make them every year. This is how I’ve found myself roped into making the fruitcake, truffles, cookies and particularly the candied orange peel every Christmas.

Candied orange peel isn’t at all difficult to make, but it is incredibly time consuming. To make enough to send even a small amount to family at Christmas, I need to use at least a dozen oranges, and pithing all that peel out can take at least an hour, before I even get to cooking the things.

Then there’s the dilemma of what to do with all the juice. I use the juice for breakfast rice bowls, where I create a donburi-style rice bowl with stewed tropical fruit instead of a savoury topping. Dried fruit, marinated in juice, is cooked with coconut milk and tofu and served over brown rice. This usually leaves me with lots of orange skins to throw away, so it’s a great time to make the candied peel.

The real trick and (and back breaker) is in ensuring that as much of the bitter white pith is removed as possible. I take each orange half and slice it first across the middle to juice it, and then take each piece and slice it length-wise (so I end up with quarters) – this is the point that I start removing the pith, as it’s the easiest size to work with. Too big and it’s bulky and hard to get the knife in properly, too small and it tears too easily.

To remove the pith, start with a good smallish, flexible knife. A boning or fileting knife is perfect. Then, start in the centre, holding the end closest to you firmly, and slice away from yourself horizontally, exactly as if you were fileting a fish. Then turn the peel around and do the opposite side. This may take a few cuts before all the pith is gone, and it’s definitely better to carve away at the pith bit by bit than to hack at it and tear the peel.

Once the pith is removed, slice that piece lengthwise again to get a strip. This is the best length for candying, as anything too big will take a long time to dry.

Be sure when you’re choosing oranges to get the freshest ones available, and work with them while they’re still fresh and plump. An older fruit with a dry skin with be very difficult to remove the pith from and no matter how good your knife skills are, will tear and look ugly. You want relatively uniform strips if you’re making them to serve as is. I salvage the torn bits by using slivers of candied peel to garnish orange cream truffles, so the peel below wasn’t wasted.

Once you’ve got all the pith removed and you’ve rested your wrists a bit (believe me, after an hour of this work, you will have sore wrists), the actual candying part is simple.

Put the peel in a saucepan and cover with water. Bring to a boil. Drain the boiling water and cover with fresh cold water. Repeat this process three times. This removes much of the bitterness left in the peel and softens up the peel to allow for the candying process. After the final boil, allow peel to drain in a colander for a couple of hours, then pat as dry as possible with paper towel. The peel will be water-logged at this point, so don’t worry if you can’t get it all.

Take as many jellyroll pans as neccessary to allow the peel to be laid out in a single layer. Pour about a cup of granulated sugar in each pan and spread peel in a single layer, preferably with the inside part of the peel facing down. Shake pans gently to cover peel with sugar.

Then you wait. The sugar will quickly get wet and lumpy from the moisture in the peel. Resist the urge to replace the sugar right away. Leave the peel in a warm, dry place (inside the oven as long as it is turned off is perfect – do NOT try to hurry the process by putting the peel and sugar in a hot oven, you’ll get caramel, not dried peel) for about a day. Remove the still-damp peel from the pans, wash and dry pans and fill with sugar again. Replace peel in sugar.

Eventually the peel will absorb the sugar and will become dry. This may take anywhere from 2 to 5 days, depending on humidity levels. If your peel is very wet, replace the sugar on a daily basis until the peel is dry.

Once the peel is completely dry, store in an airtight container. May be dipped in chocolate at this point if desired.

Note – given the article in the news yesterday about the problems creating the new Canadian Food Guide, this post seemed more than a little timely. A variation of this post was originally posted to FitFare, part of the WellFed Network.

All things are fine… in moderation.

How often have we heard that phrase in regards to health and dieting? But what does it really mean? Experts tout a “balanced diet”, which, in theory, offers a bit of wiggle room for an occasional piece of cake, but what they really mean by “balanced” is choosing a variety of foods from all four food groups (the veg and grain and protein food groups, not the sugar, fat, alcohol and caffeine version) and eschewing junk food completely.

Oh, but that’s no fun, is it? We are drawn to diets that encourage moderation because we don’t want to feel deprived of our favorite foods. You’ve got to treat yourself occasionally, right? The problem is – few of us seem to know exactly what occasionally is. A recent study on obese people indicated that 75% of the study respondents claimed to have healthy eating habits which has led doctors to believe that most people don’t actually know what “healthy eating habits” are.

And the term “moderation” or the encouragement to “eat snack items in moderation” doesn’t help. Is moderation a junk food snack per day? Once a week? Or once a month? Do we save cake for a special occasion (such as a birthday), or is every day a special occasion because there’s cake?

Even the food guides of Canada and the US recommend foods high in fat or sugar to be eaten in “moderation”, but offer no examples of what that might be. The Canada Food Guide offers examples of “moderation” for alcohol consumption (an average of one drink per day) and caffeine, but oddly, not foods such as sugar, meat or dairy products, all of which can be high in fat and calories and have health concerns related to over-consumption.

But why is this?

It’s important to remember that many food industries hire lobbyists to influence the government agencies that create our respective food guides. The wording the consumer sees on the finished food pyramid or rainbow is directly affected by marketing boards for wheat, dairy, sugar and more. These industries want you to continue buying more of their product, not less, so any change in wording on the food guides has undergone the scrutiny of various lobbyists and industry insiders, and has likely been fought tooth and nail if there is any implication that cutting back would be a good thing. “Moderation” becomes the common ground between the lobbyists and the health organizations that keeps everyone happy – except for you and I, who are desperately trying to figure out exactly what moderation really means. (more…)

Both Canada and the US have versions of a food guide which outlines recommended daily intakes for the four main food groups. Started during the rationing of WW2, both countries have revised their guides a number of times since then.

Canada’s last revision was in 1992 where we went from “the four food groups” to a rainbow design to show that some items can and should be consumed more frequently. The US went with a pyramid design, although both guides are fairly similar in regards to quantities.

The main thing both guides have in common is that both are heavily influenced by the various food lobby groups (what boards, cattle farmers associations, dairy boards, etc) whose clients have a vested interest in having the goverment encourage people to eat specific foods.

The revised Canadian guide was supposed to have been released in spring 2006, and is now slated for some time in early 2007.

CBC is reporting that the revised guide does not take into account the increased portion sizes of many foods, which might lead people to overconsume certain items such as bagels or muffins, which are significantly bigger now than they were 15 years ago.

Also under consideration are issues such as availability and diets for various ethic groups. Traditionally, the food guide has reflected a standard Caucasian “meat and potatoes” diet, with little effort to accommodate the very different diets of First Nations peoples or of immigrants whose diets are based on other staples such as rice, tofu, beans, etc.

In 2005, it was reported that the guide would offer variations for different ethnic diets as well as a way to accommodate differing serving sizes, but it sounds as if there’s still some work to do, particularly if following the guide as a way of ensuring a healthy diet ends up causing people to gain weight.

Ice cream is one of those things the lactose-intolerant or casein-allergic really miss, and when I was first diagnosed as being allergic to milk, the plethora of soy or rice-based ice creams available now just didn’t exist. The only way I got to have ice cream was to make my own, so an ice cream maker was a wise investment.The problem with homemade soy ice cream is that it’s too low in fat. Without the fat found in regular ice cream or the added preservatives found in the store-bought soy treats, it will freeze hard as a rock once you put it in the freezer.

I’ve included two versions of the recipe here; one is the low-fat version that is perfect for eating as soon as it comes out of the ice cream maker, the other is a higher fat version, made with super-healthy (albeit high fat) coconut milk that requires a little more effort, but has a more elaborate flavour.

Version 1 (low-fat)

1 lb silken tofu
1 cup sugar
1-1/2 cups chocolate soy milk
2 oz bittersweet chocolate, melted
2 Tbsp cocoa powder
1 Tbsp cinnamon
1 Tbsp chili powder

In a blender or food processor, combine all ingredients and blend until smooth. Place mixture in ice cream maker and follow manufacturer’s directions. Serve immediately.

Version 2

1/2 cup silken tofu
2 cups chocolate soy milk
1/2 cup coconut milk
1 cup sugar
2 oz bittersweet chocolate, melted
2 Tbsp cocoa powder
1 Tbsp cinnamon
1 each, dried ancho and mulatto peppers

In a blender or food processor, combine tofu, soy milk and coconut milk. Blend until smooth.

Transfer liquid to a medium saucepan, add sugar, chocolate, cocoa powder and cinnamon. Bring mixture to the boil, whisking well to incorporate all ingredients. Remove pot from heat and add peppers. Stir well. Allow to cool completely.

Remove chilis and place mixture in ice cream maker and follow manufacturer’s directions. Transfer to a freezer-safe container and allow to cure for 12 – 24 hours. The chili flavor will become more pronounced over time.

This post originally appeared on FitFare, part of the WellFed Network.

What if I told you that you could have a steak, or a breast of chicken or a nice slice of ham, without having to worry about antibiotics, hormones, over-crowding of factory farms, environmental damage or the death of an animal?

And how about if I told you that in a decade or two, you’ll be able to make that same steak or chicken breast yourself, on your kitchen counter?

Welcome to the wonderful world of lab-grown or “cultured” meat. Invented as a source of easily accessible protein for astronauts, cultured meat may be available to consumers in as little as five years.

To create the meat, small amounts of muscle cells are removed from an animal and grown in a culture or solution. Stem cells from embryos may also be used. This culture is usually made from bovine fetal tissue, although researchers have had some success with a mushroom-based solution as well.

The meat is grown on thin plastic sheets that are stretched and jiggled to simulate muscle movement and promote growth. The meat may also have electrodes attached to it that send an electrical charge through the muscle tissue causing to it contract – similar to those muscle-building belts you see on infomercials.

Proponents of lab-grown meat offer up many positive attributes to the product:

Cultured meat has the potential to be healthier, safer, less polluting, and more humane than conventional meat. Fat content can be more easily controlled. The incidence of foodborne disease can be significantly reduced, thanks to strict quality control rules that are impossible to introduce in modern animal farms, slaughterhouses, or meat packing plants. Inedible animal structures (bones, respiratory system, digestive system, skin, and the nervous system) need not be grown. As a result, cultured meat production should be more efficient than conventional meat production in its use of energy, land, and water; and it should produce less waste.

Others, such as journalist Tracy Hukill at Alternet.org, find the idea of lab-created meat to be grossly horrifying:

What a lot of trouble to go to for a solution that is frankly nightmarish (especially the “exercising” of the disembodied muscle by means of electrical shocks). All cultivation is a form of enslavement, however benevolent or necessary, but harnessing the manic energy of stem cells takes that dynamic into a realm where the side effects — the “equal and opposite reaction” promised by Newton — play out perilously close to the life process itself. If synthetic fertilizer, which seemed like such a great way to boost plant fertility, can create a dead zone the size of Maryland at the Mississippi Delta, wiping out a totally different link in the food chain, who’s to say what would come of overexploited RNA or mitochondria?

The response to such criticism by Jason Matheny, a doctoral student and scientist at the University of Maryland in College Park, and creator of the lab-grown meat, is that we already consume plenty of bioengineered foods such as wine, cheese, and tofu. And if you check the labels on almost any manufactured foods in your cupboard, you’ll see that many of the ingredients included there are not especially natural either.

Obviously, the big question that hasn’t been answered yet is how will it taste? If technology can progress enough to simulate a product that looks, feels, tastes and chews like meat, and which, in every sense of the word, is meat, why wouldn’t people eat it? After all, the biggest complaint most meat eaters have with soy products is the flavor and texture (stop shuddering, some of us LIKE Tofurky!); many say they’d eat more soy-based meat substitutes if they were more meat-like.

The Vegetarian Times asked a variety of vegetarians if they would go back to eating meat once the cultured meat became available. Not surprisingly, most of them said no, even the people who are vegetarians for political reasons. The folks from PETA are overjoyed at the prospect however, as lab-grown meat can potentially end the suffering of billions of animals.

Much work must be done before we’ll all be able to pick up a lab-grown steak at the supermarket, though. At present, the pieces of meat remain quite thin, and while the first products will undoubtedly be ground – in the form of sausages, hamburgers, etc. – the progress to something of a more steak-like consistency currently requires that the sheets of meat be stacked.

As a vegetarian who gave up meat due to the issues involved with factory farming, I will definitely try cultured meat when it becomes available. Whether the final product ends up resembling something beautiful like Kobe beef or a seasoned proscuitto, or something more akin to the rubbery Tofurky, is what will be the deciding factor for most consumers.

This post originaly appeared on Growers and Grocers, part of the Well Fed Network.

Buckwheat is a healthy alternative to white flour noodles, although most brands are made from a combination of buckwheat and wheat flours, so check your labels. Any combination of vegetables may be used here, but the earthy taste of shitake mushrooms compliments the fresh peas and the nori quite nicely. Any of the Japanese ingredients not available at your supermarket should be found easily at any health food store.

Buckwheat Noodles in Miso Broth

1 pkg (10.5oz) buckwheat soba noodles

1 cup shelled peas
2 carrots, peeled and sliced
4-6oz shitake mushrooms, sliced

2 Tbsp red miso
1/4 cup tamari (soy sauce)
1/8 tsp wasabi paste (or more to taste)
1 Tbsp rice vinegar
1 Tbsp sesame oil
juice of 1 orange
1 Tbsp grated fresh ginger
1 Tbsp chopped garlic
salt and pepper to taste
1/4 lb firm tofu, cubed

shredded nori and/or gomasio seasoning and/or sesame seeds

Fill a large pot or pasta pot with salted water and bring to a boil. Prepare vegetables and place in a steamer. When water comes to a boil, add noodles and place steamer full of vegetables over cooking pasta. (Follow package direction on noodles for cooking time and rinsing instructions.)

Meanwhile, in a large bowl, combine miso, tamari, wasabi, rice vinegar, sesame oil, orange juice, ginger, garlic and salt and pepper. Watch your salt if your tamari is not the low-sodium kind. Stir well with a whisk to remove any lumps. Add the cubed tofu and stir to coat so the tofu will absorb the broth.

When noodles are almost ready, drain vegetables and add to broth. The heat from the vegetables will warm both the liquid and the tofu. Drain noodles and add to broth. Stir well to coat the noodles and incorporate all the elements of the dish. Divide into four bowls and garnish with shredded nori, gomasio flavouring or sesame seeds.

This post originally appeared on FitFare, part of the Well Fed Network.

This post originially appeared on Growers and Grocers, part of the Well Fed Network.

It’s the middle of summer and there’s nothing tastier than some lovely fresh fish. But wait – aren’t fish bad for you now? Or are they good for you again? And some of them have been overfished, haven’t they? And what about pollution?

Buying fish can be a confusing process. Besides obvious concerns about taste, freshness and price, we now have a plethora of other issues to worry about. Is the fish contaminated with PCBs? Is it being overfished or does the manner in which it is fished contribute to destruction of the oceans or the environment? What about farmed fish versus wild fish? And how the heck is the average consumer supposed to know any of this?

The fact is, it’s hard to buy fish without some kind of guide. Farmed salmon is bad, farmed catfish is good. Cod from Alaska is fine, while Atlantic cod is almost non-existent. Farmed mussels are good, while wild ones may be contaminated. Imported shrimp contribute to the destruction of lands in India and Thailand, not to mention the unnecessary deaths of a variety of sea creatures who get caught in the trawlers.

So what’s the solution, other than to start cutting your organic tofu into fish shapes and swear off real fish completely? You know what would be a really great? A nifty pocket-sized list of which fish are good and which fish are bad.

Enter the Fish List.

The Fish List is a compilation of three seafood advisories from the Monterey Bay Aquarium, Environmental Defense and Ocean’s Alive. All three organizations post a “best and worst” list on their respective website (plus a lot more information, so check out the links!), and the Fish List puts it all together.

Basically, it’s a quick and easy reference that you can use when purchasing fresh or frozen fish, or when ordering fish in restaurants. The website gives detailed information on why most fish are good or bad, so it’s easy to know if you’re making wise choices. And while all three individual lists, and the compiled Fish List, are based on environmental concerns and sustainability practices, it’s interesting to note that most of the fish that end up on the “bad” list tend to be the fish that are most polluted with toxins – the fish that we should all be avoiding for health reasons.

The only downside to the Fish List is that it still requires the customer to ask the hard questions of their fishmonger or restaurant server. To properly assess whether you’re buying good fish or bad fish, you need to have information on where your fish came from and how it was raised. Some restaurants have voluntarily opted to remove at-risk items, such as Chilean Sea Bass, from their menus, but it’s also important to ask, and check the answer you get against the list. To check for restaurants and fish sellers in your area who sell or serve fish from the “good” column of the Fish List (and avoid fish from the “bad” column”) check out the website of the Seafood Choices Alliance.

Paying attention to the type of fish we eat now means a better supply of safe, healthy and tasty fish for decades to come.