“Biodiversity can be seen as a life insurance policy for life itself-- something especially needed in this time of fast-paced global change.”—Kofi Annan
The first full day at Terra Madre featured 15 workshops spread out over 3 time periods (10 am, 1 pm, 3pm). Workshops were divided into categories such as economics/market access, products and producers, agro-ecology, resources, cultures, and strategies. There were also regional meetings, where all the delegates from one country gathered together in one room (more on the U.S. meeting to follow in a later post).
Practically speaking, for each time slot one was forced to choose among 5 different workshops and topics, a daunting decision. Friday morning, for example, offered the following:
1. “More than consumers: the power of co-producers. The buyer’s role is much more active than what the word consumer suggests. The final link in the food chain has its place in production, education, markets and the environment. Farmers’ markets, buyers’ groups, community-supported agriculture and many other initiatives demonstrate that eating is an agricultural act, producing a gastronomical act and purchasing a political act.”
2. “Cheese: The importance of raw milk, the significance of animal feed and the quality of milk, the defense of traditional techniques and market access for small-scale producers: what can be done to preserve the dairy artisan heritage?”
3. “Fresh and cured meats: Breeders, slaughterhouses and butchers, processing companies and cooks. Many different skills and factors contribute to the quality of fresh and cured meats, from animal feed to the cut to curing techniques.”
However, the brief descriptions in the program didn’t list any of the speakers and, as much as I love cheese, I was reluctant to give up two hours of my time for a discussion comparing animal feeds. I finally hit upon the strategy of wandering from room to room with my headset on (picking up the voices of the translators broadcasting in the back of each room). If the speakers caught my interest, I sat down and stayed. If not, I moved on to the next workshop. A rather arbitrary approach, but one that proved surprisingly effective. Many of the workshops I thought I would be interesting (i.e., that I had highlighted in my program) turned out to be disappointing, while the ones I wandered into ended up being the ones I enjoyed the most.
One of my favorite workshops was “Agro-Ecology--Traditional Agricultural systems.” As soon as I entered and saw Gary Nabhan speaking, I knew I was in the right room.
I’ve heard Nabhan speak before and have read several of his books, including my favorite, Coming Home to Eat, in which he chronicles the year he spent eating only foods grown within a 200-mile radius of his home at the time, near Tucson. Nabhan is an ethnobotanist who made his name working with native cultures in the Southwest, reintroducing traditional, native foods in an attempt to curb rising rates of diabetes. He is founder of Native Seeds/SEARCH and the director of the Center for Sustainable Environments at Northern Arizona University.
Nabhan began the workshop by questioning the notion of “traditional” agriculture. He asked the farmers in the room how many of them farmed the same way every year. He made the point that because of drought, wet years, disease, etc., traditional farmers must vary their methods constantly, adapting to ever-changing conditions. Thus, he noted, traditional agriculture is dynamic and marked by innovation. Conventional industrial agriculture, on the other hand, attempts to control all inputs and outputs, to remain as static and predictable as possible.
Nabhan pointed out that the word “heritage” does not necessarily mean looking at the past. Rather, it means preserving something--crops, knowledge, cultural practices, community involvement—to ensure a viable future, to pass these things on to future generations.
In fact, the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations has launched an initiative called the Globally Important Agriculture Heritage System (GIAHS), a program to conserve and manage “ingenious farming systems” around the earth.
In the U.S., Nabhan has founded the Renewing America’s Food Traditions Project (RAFT) to document, celebrate and preserve the diversity of America’s food traditions.
As such, RAFT has compiled the first ever List of America’s Endangered foods. Based on the research and recommendations of dozens of experts (food historians, chefs, conservation biologists, farmers, plant and animal explorers, genetic conservationists, and agricultural activists), the list includes over 700 endangered plant and animal foods, from apples to shellfish.
I love this map of North America that Nabhan has created to show the origins and locations of these foods. Common geographical designators (the Pacific Northwest) have been replaced by more colorful regional monikers (Salmon Nation) that represent the traditional foods of that area.
California, for example, is part of Abalone Nation and the state’s native white abalone is on the RAFT’s list of top 10 most endangered foods.
To read more about Renewing America’s Food Traditions and the list of endangered foods, click here to download a .pdf file of the book.
Following Nabhan at the Terra Madre workshop was a Brazilian filmmaker, Teresa Corção, accompanied by a Brazilian manioc farmer. (I’m sorry I don’t have the farmer’s name--as I mentioned, there was no program listing the speakers for each workshop).
Manioc, a starchy root, high in carbohydrates, is native to Brazil. Poisonous when consumed raw, manioc is often grated, rinsed, and toasted to make farofa. Eaten with rice and beans or as an accompaniment to feijoada, the famous meat-and-beans stew, farofa is a major staple in Brazilian cuisine.
Corção directed a documentary called "The Professor of Manioc," which was shown at the Slow Food on Film Festival in May 2006.
Corção invited anyone in the audience who was interested to come forward to the front of the room. As scenes from the film (showing the process of growing and toasting the manioc) played overhead, the farmer demonstrated how he weaves the distinctive baskets that he uses to hold the toasted manioc.
He untied a bundle of grass reeds that he had brought along and, using his foot to hold the reeds in place, began weaving them together. After about 20 minutes, he had made a basket similar to the one shown above. The basket, lined with leaves and filled with toasted manioc, is taken to market and sold in this way.
At the end of the demonstration, Corção walked around the room pouring out handfuls of manioc to anyone who wanted to taste it.
This workshop was a perfect example of the rather loose organization that marked the Terra Madre conference. Even the moderator of the workshop had no idea how many people would be speaking at the two-hour session he hosted. His announcements to the panel regarding limits on their speaking time ranged from 9 minutes to 20+, as additional speakers arrived or failed to show up for their designated appearances.
This was both the beauty and frustration of the conference, on one hand allowing serendipitous surprises, but undoubtedly frustrating to those who were scheduled to speak (or attempting to plan their way through each day). I found the manioc show-and-taste workshop delightful, as it broke down the usual walls between speakers and audience, allowing us to gather around closely and participate in the process, but I can imagine there were other attendees who had no interest in watching a 20-minute basketweaving demonstration.
Two friends I was traveling with, who are chefs and delegates at this year’s conference, expressed some disappointment that there weren’t more activities targeted for them. They felt that many of the workshops focused primarily on producers and farmers and they lamented the lack of exchange and contact with other chefs, both American and international.
I understand their frustrations and believe these are valid criticisms. Yet, I also think Terra Madre is what you make of it. If I were to offer any advice or strategy for the next conference it would be to make the most of the time you have there.
Next time I will arrive a few days before the conference, so that I don’t spend the first couple days of the conference groggy from jetlag. I will make arrangements to meet with other delegates from the U.S. I will offer my feedback to the Terra Madre organizers so that they can continue to improve the conference.
I am honored and grateful that I was able to attend. Unlike chefs and
university researchers, who were there as guests of Terra Madre and
were given room and board, I was one of a limited number who attended
as an “observer” and paid my own way there. I was there because I
really wanted to be. I had been wanting to go ever since I heard about
the first Terra Madre two years ago from some San Diego farmers who
attended as delegates. I went to Torino to learn, to listen, and to
report back on what I saw there.
Next: Slow Food Nation 2008
Angie, wow! What an excellent summary of the conference. Made me wish I was there. I'm enjoying the entire website.
Is this a yearly conference?
Posted by: mary vasudeva | January 05, 2007 at 09:19 AM