Eggo Waffles

In my freezer I have a big box of Eggo waffles. I like them. In fact, the reason the box is still in my freezer (several months after it was purchased) is because I keep saving them for a rainy day when I need something delicious to eat. Today however, I learned that my big box of Eggos is about to become something of a scarce and hot commodity. According to this article on MSNBC.com two factories that produce Eggos have recently had to shut down and one, in Tennessee, is still closed. What this means, of course, is that we’re about to enter a waffle famine and we should probably start praying for it to end.

 

Or should we? Though I like Eggos as much as anyone, I was surprised that the MSNBC article was actually able to find people who would be alarmed about the shortage (not to mention who plan to ration the waffles). I would easily consider Eggos breakfast junk food and though the shortage might not make me happy (I feel rather neutral about it), I have to admit that it’s probably only going to make people healthier.

 

Let’s consider: A single waffle has 90 calories, 35 of which are from fat. According to the box, a serving size is two waffles, so we have to double those proportions for a meal (somehow, two waffles are listed as having 190 calories however, not 180.) It’s also worth considering that most people are going to eat their waffles with butter and syrup, both of which have little or no nutritional value. That’s not to mention the various other preservatives and chemicals that go into pretty much all industrially produced foods.

 

On the other hand an apple typically has around 70 calories, very very few of which (if any) come from fat. According to this website an average banana might have 200 calories, but only 6 of those come from fat. Also, fresh fruit of any variety contains numerous vitamins, nutrients, and fiber that make up a healthy diet.

 

Now, Eggo waffles certainly aren’t the worst health offenders in the world, especially when it comes to processed food. However, they’re nowhere near as healthy as fruits, which also make great breakfasts and are among the only things easier to make than Eggos. In that light, it’s not hard to think of the Eggo shortage as less of a famine and more of a fortuitous turn of events. (At least for the country at large, if not for the workers who may be out of work until the plant reopens.) In any case, perhaps this will force people (including me) to return to a healthier lifestyle.

Picking Apples (Part 2)

My recent apple picking experiences have led me to ponder the roles of urban vegetation.  These experiences have also reminded me of a presentation I attended a while ago at the old Gallery 110 in Provo.  The presentation was on urban gardening and while I felt the presenter focused too much on symbolic acts of urban guerrilla environmentalism that ultimately couldn’t effect any change, it was a useful experience for pointing out that most city plants exists only for beautification purposes.

 

The apple trees that Laura and I recently found and harvested are a good example of this fact.  The trees provide shade and look nice, and for most people that’s apparently all they’re good for.  Similarly, Provo and BYU campus have numerous plum trees all over, but they’re trimmed to minimize how much fruit they produce because the fruit is seen as a nuisance that dirties sidewalks and streets.  And of course, most lawns, trees, and bushes in urban environments bear no fruit at all and simply exist for people to enjoy. 

 

I appreciate plants that beautify, but picking bag after bag of apples recently has led me to consider more seriously why urban vegetation can’t be visually pleasing and productive.  Would Provo’s plum or apple trees be any less pretty, for example, if they were pruned to maximize their fruit yield instead of being trimmed to eliminate it?  As I run and walk the streets of Provo (and, in the past, other cities I’ve lived in) I always notice new saplings planted in parks and yards.  Occasionally these are fruit trees, but usually they aren’t.  Why is that?  What is to be lost by planting fruit trees more often than simply “attractive” trees?  There may be slightly more research required to maintain a fruit tree (though any nursery worker should be able to answer questions), and of course someone will eventually have to make the effort to pick the fruit, but those seem like small prices to pay for the reward of having delicious homegrown food (that is also essentially free).  

 

There are opportunities to turn urban settings into productive gardens right now.  Again, Provo’s fruit trees provide a good example.  Right now someone has to go around and trim them, so if they’re putting forth the effort anyway why not spend a little more time and prune them for their fruit?  Of course, this would take some extra training and know-how, but the fruit itself could easily offset the cost.  For example, cities could plant fruit trees along boulevards and pedestrian paths, and then charge local residents a small fee to come and pick the fruit on certain days of the year.  It’d be like going to a farmers market, except that the “venders” (i.e. the trees) would be spread throughout the city and people would get to pick the fruit themselves.  Cities could make a little extra cash, people would get fresh organic food, and there wouldn’t be rotting undersized fruit all over sidewalks.  Everybody would win.

 

I know that’s a simplified assessment of the situation, and I’m not advocating some kind of public orchard system.  Instead, I think that urban vegetation could serve many communities much better than it currently does.  I don’t think (as some do) that every square inch of dirt in a city needs to be planted with carrots and lettuce (though I’m not opposed to that idea), but it seems that many communities currently put forth a lot of effort to maintain their plants.  Why not focus that effort so it produces both beauty and fruit?

Picking Apples (Part 1)

A couple of weeks ago Laura and I went on a walk and passed an apple tree in front of a small apartment complex.  We probably wouldn’t have noticed it, except that the ground around the tree was covered in decomposing apples.  When we looked up we were surprised to see that the tree was still full of fruit.  Laura picked one and tasted it, and when she said it was delicious we decided to come back with bags and pick more.  After all, we figured, the number of apples on the ground suggested that no one else was interested in them. 

 

Because the apples weren’t necessarily ours, we felt the need to be sneaky.  The first time we went back there was a guy in front of the apartments barbequing, so we pretended we weren’t there to steal his apples and kept walking.  Then, later that night after it was dark, we stealthily returned and proceeded to pick more apples than we knew what to do with.

 

Just about the time our many bags began to overflow the barbeque guy came back out and gave us a suspicious look.  I don’t blame him; Laura was ten feet up in the tree and I was down below catching apples in my messenger bag.  However, what he said surprised me.  Instead of asking us to leave he told us that he “wouldn’t eat the apples.  Box elders got into them.  Take them if you want, but eat them at your own risk.” 

 

Now, it’s possible the guy just wanted us to leave and so he made up an excuse to scare us away.  However, if that was his goal he failed because Laura had already eaten some of the apples and was just fine.  Also, I had never heard of anyone dying or becoming sick due to box elders.  Nevertheless our bags were full (we probably had a bushel or more), so we left.

 

Since then I’ve tried to look up the dangers of box elders, but to no avail.  More importantly, Laura and I have made numerous loaves of apple bread, apple pies, and eaten many raw apples with no negative repercussions.  If we found a bug-infested apple, we threw it in the compost pile (which is also a secret that I’m hoping will totally decompose before the landlord notices it). 

 

In the end I’m left to wonder why the barbeque guy was afraid of the apples in front of his apartment (if he was serious about them being bad, which I believe he was).  Since then Laura and I have actually found another apple tree at another apartment complex and picked even more apples.  (In fact, we picked at least twice as many from that tree and had to make two arduous trips to carry them all home.)  Like the first tree this one was surrounded by fallen, decomposing apples.  Clearly, no one wanted them and I felt like it almost as my duty to pick all the remaining good apples and eat them so they wouldn’t go to waste.  While I’m glad I benefited from these trees, there was more than enough for everyone in the vicinity, if anyone had cared to look. 

 

While I’ll explore some of the larger thoughts I had about this experience in subsequent posts, the most basic conclusion that I’ve come to is to not be afraid to take a risk (in this case that risk was the very slight chance of becoming sick from eating a bad apple, but I suppose there are broader applications to that idea, which I’ve commented on before).  The other basic idea that I think emerges here is that there are free, delicious, and abundant resources all around us all, ripe for the taking.