Expert answer:Journal Requirements

Solved by verified expert:attached are the articles and the TED talkJournal Requirements: Journals must be a minimum of 500 words minimum, and you must reply to at least 2 peers. There is no word limit on peer replies, but you must show that you have engaged with your peers’ responses and not simply said “I agree” or “Great post!” A substantial reply could be anywhere between 50 and 150 words. You are not required, but you are encouraged to continue replying to one another throughout the week. Let’s have some great conversations! Failure to meet the word limit will result in a reduced journal grade. Ad Hominem attacks will not be tolerated. If you disagree with someone, attack the argument, not the person. For every journal, include a summary and analysis of all the texts that you read for the week. Failure to summarize/analyze will result in half credit (or less) for the journal. The prompt (this is separate from the summary/analysis) is a guideline, and will usually be open-ended (i.e. not a question with a right or wrong answer. Additionally, I want you to explore your own thoughts and feelings and ideas along with the texts and the subject matter in order to improve your critical reading, writing, and thinking skills. Journal Prompt: In addition to your summary/analysis of the weeks reading, watch the following video and respond with your own thoughts, ideas, and analysis: https://www.ted.com/talks/ron_finley_a_guerilla_ga…
the_ultimate_in_eating_local__my_adventures_in_urban_foraging_1.pdf

the_extraordinary_science_of_addictive_junk_food___the_new_york_times.pdf

Unformatted Attachment Preview

The Ultimate in Eating Local: My Adventures
in Urban Foraging
By Tara Lohan [1] / AlterNet [2]
September 4, 2009, 9:00 PM GMT
1
After spending an afternoon with Iso Rabins, it has come to my attention that I have no useful skills.
And by useful, I mean the kind that could save my life if I was plucked out of the warm embrace of
industrial, consumer society.
I can type with all 10 fingers, but Rabins can do me one better, much better: He can find food.
Having been successfully able to grow one, tiny Meyer lemon, in the last year­and­a­half, I have a
fond appreciation for people with fruited vines tangled in their backyard, and green arms, heavy with
tomatoes coming out of their pots, and a windowsill alive with herbs.
To be a farmer, even if only on the crammed fire escape of your city nest, is something special and
ancient.
But Rabins is another breed, and an older one ­­ he doesn’t grow food, he finds it, and he does so
mostly around the city of San Francisco and its neighboring towns and shores.
He’s also among a growing band of urban foragers who have been sprouting through sidewalk cracks
all across the country as the economy tightens belts and the local­foods movement gains
popularity. And thanks to Rabins, I got to spend a day seeing what it’s like to start looking at your
neighborhood as a potential meal.
Gathering the Bounty
I always assumed that if I was lost in the woods, a safe bet would be to eat acorns, one thing I think I
could identify for certain. But Rabins, who knows a delicious recipe for acorn ice cream, helps save
me from a potentially sickening experience.
On a recent walk through San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park, he explains that acorns have a lot of
tannins and are poisonous if you eat too many raw. You have to take them out of their shell, and then
the nut meat needs to be soaked ­­ either submerged in the cold water of a rushing stream for weeks
as the indigenous people did, or boiled in numerous baths on the stove, a process that could take all
day or longer.
But this is just passing advice ­­ we are not out to gather acorns. Rabins runs Forage SF [3], a group
he started a year ago to provide foodies in the Bay area with a box of locally foraged foods.
Similar to the popular CSA [4] (community­supported agriculture) model that allows people to buy a
subscription to a farmer’s regular bounty, Rabins’ CSF provides members with a monthly box of
foraged goodies that range from mushrooms to fruit to herbs to sea beans to fish.
Some of the foraging he does himself, and the rest is contracted from other foragers (or fishermen).
Rabins is still working out the kinks and trying to get a reliable group of foragers together, which, it
seems, is a lot like herding cats. For the time being though, he’s stuck with me, a total beginner.
I had hoped that maybe I’d come home from my first foraging outing with pink­stained fingers from
berry picking, but instead we are peering underneath long green leaves looking for snails. Snails!
I’m not even sure I want to find a snail, let along think about anyone eating it. My parents gave up on
me eating any kind of meat products around the age of 12, and I’m pretty sure snails fall somewhere
in the meatlike category.
These snails, Rabins says, will be used for an escargot he is planning for another one of his ventures
­­ monthly foraged­food dinners that he serves to groups of up to about 30 and include an ambitious
six courses that are probably as close as you can get to actually eating the city of San Francisco.
In jeans and hoodies, we look more like urban hipsters than foragers. But I guess that’s a good thing,
because we are wandering the paths of one of the city’s gardens (which will remain nameless).
We’ve slipped past the groups of toddlers wobbling on the front lawn and the vacationing families
dutifully reading all the informational signs. We head to the winding, dirt paths, farther from the
crowds, passing the occasional photographer hunched over a tripod.
Rabins looks like your average young Mission District guy ­­ which he is. He lives in the hip ‘hood,
has a film degree, shaggy brown hair and a bit of a beard. He has learned foraging from books and
other people who know what they are doing, and a bit of trial and error. He doesn’t own a car, so he
takes the bus around the city or bums rides from other aspiring foragers.
Of course, if you’re in a city garden like the one we’re in, you’re not suppose to actually take anything
out. But we’re not taking plants ­­ just the snails hiding in their midst, and the snails, Rabins says are
pests. So, I guess we’re doing the garden a favor.
Rabins has shown me the kind of plant we’re looking for, although he doesn’t know it by name, he
just knows the snails prefer them. The plants grow in clumps and sport long, flat green leaves. Some
have tall spears that shoot from the middle, armed with clusters of light purple flowers. We run our
hands through the leaves, parting them to see further inside.
I get a quick burst of excitement when I point out my first snail to Rabins, who plucks it from its
green berth, making a slight sucking sound as it is pulled free. He opens his backpack and drops it in
a plastic container that looks like it was probably intended for take­out soup. Just one snail, and I’m
hooked. It feels incredibly rewarding and also a bit risky.
Rabins used to find huge swaths of Miner’s lettuce in an area called thePresidio [5], which is both a
neighborhood and a park and is technically a National Historic Landmark, with architecture dating
back to the Spanish forts.
An article about Rabins in a local paper mentioned his foraging ventures there, and the Presidio
establishment decided to nip his picking in the bud. I guess they were afraid hordes of San
Franciscans would descend on the area like a pack of starved goats and eat all the vegetation.
But certainly there are some legal hazards when you’re in urban areas. Just ask “Wildman” Steve
Brill [6]. He’s probably the country’s most well known forager who has been leading foraging trips in
the New York area since 1982.
Brill got his big break in 1986, when the New York City parks commissioner planted undercover
agents on one of his tours in Central Park. When Brill popped a dandelion in his mouth, he was
handcuffed and arrested. The incident made national, and even international, news[7] and the city
was forced to not only drop the charges but then hire him to lead foraging tours through the parks
department.
Brill spent four years as a parks naturalist before he went back to freelancing. Now he leads tours for
all kinds of groups ­­ schools, birthday parties, garden clubs, and anyone else interested in learning
what you can find to eat in New York City and its environs.
It turns out there is a lot. Brill tells me some of it: wild watercress, mulberries, wild persimmons,
raspberries, Juneberries, various species of bramble, parsnips, burdock root, wild carrot, giant
puffballs, chicken mushrooms, honey mushrooms, white oak acorns, black walnuts, lambs quarters,
and even kelp if you venture out to the shores of the Long Island Sound, which is where I grew up.
Getting the Goods for Free
That’s the beauty of foraging. It’s like getting a new lens on life. All of a sudden, you can see things ­
­ food ­­ where there wasn’t any before. The weed you might be stepping over on the sidewalk with
out even noticing ­­ that’s purslane [8], and its stems and leaves are great in salad or you can cook it
up. It’s packed with iron, beta carotene, Vitamin C and other healthy stuff. It’s also a secret source of
omega­3 fatty acids. Forget fish pills, just look beneath your feet.
Foraging has its benefits for sure and beats the supermarket in many ways.
“It’s a lot more fun, it’s less expensive, the food tastes better, and there are more nutrients,” Brill said.
“It is also a good way of getting in touch with your planet, especially if you have kids who love
learning about nature.”
Urban foraging has become a nice complement to the “freegans,” who popularized Dumpster diving
and have reminded us that one person’s trash is another’s dinner.
“Freeganism (a conjunction of ‘free’ and ‘vegan’) is the philosophy that participation in our capitalist
economy makes a person complicit in the exploitative practices that are used to create consumer
goods,” Becca Tucker wrote [9] about her exploits living off what her fellow New Yorkers had
tossed.
Of course, when I think of Dumpster diving, I think first of the folks whose association with garbage
isn’t a philosophical arrangement, but a necessity. Having the skills to get by on the streets when
you’re homeless or jobless or both is quite a feat.
But over the years, as our society has grown more and more attached to “more,” we’ve created a
consumer culture where most of the stuff we kick to the curb is totally usable ­­ from TVs to shoes to
muffins. So why not live off the bounty of discards?
The same is true for food that’s growing in our midst. While I imagine that finding still­edible
cheesecake in a Dumpster behind a bakery feels like an incredible score ­­ probably even topping my
glee at finding my first snail ­­ foraging offers food that is super­fresh and nutritious. And well, clean
­­ that is, if you’re foraging in the right places (like not beside highways and railroads, Brill warns).
Even in our most populated urban environments such as New York City or Los Angeles, as people
hurry to Whole Foods or Safeway, they’re passing by food as they go ­­ things that can fill their plate
for free.
Thankfully, more and more people are seeing the beauty of foraging.
“Urban foraging in the United States is more a choice than a necessity,” Reuters reported [10]. “Most
foragers see both the health and environmental benefits to eating a more natural diet.”
Of course in a tight economy, where clipping coupons has fallen back into practice for many, the free
aspect doesn’t hurt either. And lots of people are also experiencing a cultural shift when it comes to
their food.
The backlash to fast food and processed food has grown as people are embracing not just organic,
but locally­grown food. And increasingly, people have a desire to not just understand where their
food comes from, but to actively participate in that food system.
Growing Community
Where I live on the West Coast, the trees are heavy with fruit, so much of which goes to waste, even
while people in the city go hungry. Thankfully, several groups have stepped up to help with this
problem.
Across the bay from San Francisco is the group Forage Oakland [11], pioneered by Asiya Wadud.
The effort creates maps of Oakland’s fruit trees to share and has helped to form a food network
among neighbors. Wadud explains on Forage Oakland’s Web site that their mission is much larger
than just helping you access those ripe plums on the other side of the fence:
Imagine gathering several friends for morning, midday, evening or weekend foraged city
bicycle rides through your neighborhood. Rough maps are drawn, noting the forageables
that can be found at each location, and “cold calls” are made to your neighbors asking if
you can sample a fruit from their backyard tree. You have the courage to introduce
yourself (despite the pervasiveness and acceptance of urban anomie), and they reward
your neighborliness with a sample of Santa Rosa plums, for example.
Later, when you find yourself with a surplus of Persian mulberries, you ­­ in turn ­­
deliver a small basket to said neighbor. With time, and in this fashion, a community of
people who care for and know one another is built, and rather than being the exception,
this could be the norm. This is not idealistic, rather it is necessary, pragmatic and
creative ­­ especially in times when much of the world is suffering from lack of access
to healthful and satisfying fresh food.
Forage Oakland is a project that works to construct a new model ­­ and is one of many
neighborhood projects that will eventually create a network of local resources that
address the need and desire for neighborhoods to be more self­sustaining in meeting
their food needs.
Groups like this exists across the country ­­ Fallen Fruit [12]in Los Angeles and Santa Fe,
N.M.; Urban Edibles [13] in Portland, Ore.; and North Berkeley Harvest [14] and SF
Glean [15] around the San Francisco Bay Area. There are also tons of links on Brill’s Web site [6] to
various other foragers.
Iso Rabins also includes gleaned fruit in his foraged boxes. The day we were out snail gathering (we
found 10!) we made a trip across town to scavenge some plums from a woman with an overloaded
tree in her backyard.
When we arrived, and she led us around to her backyard, it was like there had been a plum storm.
Many still hung overhead, but lots had fallen to the ground, were squished into the patio or had been
sampled by birds, rats or other lucky urbanites.
Rabins worked the picker to reach the higher branches and plucked the tree nearly bare in about 20
minutes, leaving some of the smaller, less­ripe fruit and the ones out of reach all the way at the top.
Occasionally there would be a solid thump as a plum missed the picking basket and fell to the
ground.
The whole thing seemed symbiotic ­­ just as Wadud described on her Forage Oakland Web site. We
got some plums, the woman got her yard cleaned up a bit, and all the while she and Rabins chatted
about his foraged­food dinners, and she offered her place to host one of his upcoming meals.
By the end of it, there were the makings for some good plum pudding and the cultivation of
community, which is a different kind of cultivation than what farmers experience.
“When I talk to farmers, they don’t quite get the foraging stuff,” said Rabins. “They think its neat,
and then they say, ‘Why don’t you save the seeds from what you find and then grow it yourself.’ But
of course, that’s not really what I’m interested in. People have this idea that food is something that
you make happen ­­ you grow it ­­ they don’t see it as something that grows on its own, that is out
there in the world. I like foraging because it is a different kind of way of looking at nature and being
in it.”
Get Out There and Do It
It doesn’t take a special kind of naturalist to forage, it’s really just something you have to learn.
“This is no difficult than any other skill that people tend to pick up from mastering Photoshop to
learning ballroom dancing to swimming,” said Brill. “It is a skill, it takes steps, it takes persistence,
but it is very rewarding.”
Of course, you have to be careful. Never eat anything you haven’t identified with 100 percent
certainty said Brill.
“You can eat any wild plant once, but you might not be around to eat it twice,” he said. The best way
to start, he advises, is to learn a small number of common plants really well that have no poisonous
look­alikes and follow them through a whole year before you eat any of them.
“Wild plants and instant gratification don’t always mix,” he wrote in his book, Identifying and
Harvesting Edible and Medicinal Plants in Wild (and Not So Wild) Places. Once you’ve got a few
down, slowly add to what you’re collecting year after year.
Brill’s book is a good place to start if you’re interested in getting your foraging feet wet. Of course,
finding the edibles is only part of it. Thankfully Brill has a cookbook to help you figure out what to
do with the stuff once you’ve gotten it home. His Web site also has links from resources and foraging
experts that might be in your neck of the woods.
Since my outing with Rabins, I’ve picked up copies of both Brill’s books, and I keep spotting snails
every where I go. I haven’t yet had the desire to pluck them from where they’re parked, but I’m just
glad that I can finally see one more thing that’s right in front of me.
And, thanks to Rabins I know a little of their story ­­ the journey from European delicacy to
American garden pest. I’ve also been eyeing the blackberry bushes that seem far enough out of the
spray of the dogs that frequent the hill behind my house.
A few weeks ago, with some friends, I picked delicious berries from along a riverbank north of San
Francisco, and they made our pancakes taste like summer.
Wild food and community are ingredients for a perfect meal.
“An edible landscape can be formed that is interactive, a bit different every day as fruit ripens and
falls and as the seasons change,” wrote Wadud. “The barter can translate to other areas of urban
living and can create a community of people who’d rather do it for themselves and play an active role
in their consumerism. When there are plums in your neighbor’s backyard, enjoy them with your
neighbor.”
It’s really true what they say: The best things in life are free.
Tara Lohan is a senior editor at AlterNet. You can follow her on Twitter @TaraLohan.
4/11/2016
The Extraordinary Science of Addictive Junk Food ­ The New York Times
http://nyti.ms/11TOoSR
Magazine
The Extraordinary Science of Addictive
Junk Food
By MICHAEL MOSS
FEB. 20, 2013
On the evening of April 8, 1999, a long line of Town Cars and taxis pulled up to
the Minneapolis headquarters of Pillsbury and discharged 11 men who
controlled America’s largest food companies. Nestlé was in attendance, as
were Kraft and Nabisco, General Mills and Procter & Gamble, Coca­Cola and
Mars. Rivals any other day, the C.E.O.’s and company presidents had come
together for a rare, private meeting. On the agenda was one item: the emerging
obesity epidemic and how to deal with it. While the atmosphere was cordial,
the men assembled were hardly friends. Their stature was defined by their skill
in fighting one another for what they called “stomach share” — the amount of
digestive space that any one company’s brand can grab from the competition.
James Behnke, a 55­year­old executive at Pillsbury, greeted the men as
they arrived. He was anxious but also hopeful about the plan that he and a few
other food­company executives had devised to engage the C.E.O.’s on
America’s growing weight problem. “We were very concerned, and rightfully
so, that obesity was becoming a major issue,” Behnke recalled. “People were
starting to talk about sugar taxes, and there was a lot of pressure on food
companies.” Getting the company chiefs in the same room to talk about
anything, much less a sensitive issue like this, was a tricky business, so Behnke
and his fellow organizers had scripted the meeting carefully, honing the
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/02/24/magazine/the­extraordinary­science­of­junk­food.html
1/28
4/11/2016
The Extraordinary Science of Addictive Junk Food ­ The New York Times
message to its barest essentials. “C.E.O.’s in the food industry are typically not
technical guys, and they’re uncomfortable going to meetings where technical
people talk in technical terms about technical things,” Behnke said. “They
don’t want to be embarrassed. They don’t want to make commitments. They
want to maintain their aloofness and autonomy.”
A chemist by training with a doctoral degree in food science, Behnke
became Pillsbury’s chief technical officer in 1979 and was instrumental in
creating a long line of hit products, including microwaveable popcorn. He
deeply admired Pillsbury but in recent years had grown troubled by pictures of
obese children suffering from diabetes and the earliest signs of hypertension
and heart disease. In the months leading up to the C.E.O. meeting, he was
engaged in conversation with a group of food­science experts who were
painting an increasingly grim picture of the public’s ability to cope with the
industry’s formulations — from the body’s fragile controls on overeating to the
hidden power of some processed foods to make people feel hungrier still. It
was time, he and a handful of others felt, to warn the C.E.O.’s that their
companies may have gone too far in …
Purchase answer to see full
attachment

How it works

1. Paste your instructions in the instructions box. You can also attach an instructions file
2. Select the writer category, deadline, education level and review the instructions 
3. Make a payment for the order to be assignment to a writer
4.  Download the paper after the writer uploads it 

Will the writer plagiarize my essay?

You will get a plagiarism-free paper and you can get an originality report upon request.

Is this service safe?

All the personal information is confidential and we have 100% safe payment methods. We also guarantee good grades