Decatur Magazine: Home: Food and Wine: Slow Food

articles online: food & wine by Zachary Shields
irst, to trot out a few statistics: Officially founded in 1989, the name "Slow Food" denotes an international organization spanning forty-five countries and more than 65,000 members. These are arranged into 560 or so local convivia (root word "convivium," meaning banquet). Around sixty of these chapters exist in the United States, and their 7,000 devotees are second in number only to Italy's ranks. The Snail is the American newsletter's apt title, and also a symbol of the worldwide association. But Slow Food is not merely some species of elaborate gastronomical club. It's more, even, than a socially conscientious movement, though this is nearer the mark. What it is, in its purest sense, is a concept for living more fully. More thoughtfully. It began in response to "golden arches" sprouting near the Spanish Steps in Rome, but has rapidly grown beyond that. By way of summation: Slow Food's simple (if old world) goal is to get people to sit down, take their time, and enjoy quality meals in fellowship with others. It's about re-claiming lost hours, supporting local farmers, and celebrating authentic regional traditions. In its early years, in fact, the organization failed to gain non-profit status in the U.S. The governmental perspective asked how a pleasure food group could be educational, or serve any constructive purpose. Fully grasping the club's motivation a wish to remedy one social ailment particular to our time negates these concerns. They've been further addressed in the group's "Friendship Tables," charitable initiatives epitomized by the School Garden Program launched this spring. A benefit dinner for this project provided the backdrop for my immersion, hosted by Champaign's highly-active convivia. Laurence Mate is Prairieland Slow Food fiduciary, or leader, and chair of the movement's National Education Committee. His efforts (as well as those of others in his chapter) were the reason this dinner was held at Timpone's in Champaign, and why various luminaries were drawn to it. "Strapped for funds," Mate said, "the schools are attempting to cut costs by feeding (students) junk foods…what message are we sending our kids when we herd them into cafeterias and give them only a few minutes to wolf down processed meals that are low in nutrients, but high in fats, sugars, and salts?"
A step in the right direction, Slow Food reasons, is encouraging and funding schools to create gardens where students can grow some of what they eat. The benefits surpass nutrition, shading into environmental responsibility and a sense of belonging.
That night in early June the guest of honor was a woman who has been called the patron saint of organic farming. The New York Times christened her "Mother of American Cooking," while Salon took a slightly less reverent tone, in 1999, when they opened an article by declaring that, "America's high priestess of chow has shown a nation raised on meatloaf that fresh, nourishing food, organically grown and simply prepared, ranks right up there with godliness… there was a time when (we) thought frisee was a ballet position and mesclun a hallucinogen…" The lady in question, Alice Waters, has held a prominent position in the world culinary hierarchy for better than thirty years. A decade ago, the James Beard Foundation chose her Berkeley, California, establishment, Chez Panisse, as Best (U.S.) Restaurant. The same organization named her 1992's Best Chef in America. She's a smallish, quiet person, seemingly not given to any kind of theatrics. Despite this, she was introduced as an individual who periodically "swoops down from Olympus to grace Slow Food with a little bit of energy." Her aesthetic tendencies are the cornerstone of her success. Pick up any one of her ten cookbooks and what you are buying into is the Waters outlook keep it simple and keep it human. Her taste for provincial quality is distanced from the decorative, the highbrow, the overly haute cuisine often associated with fine dining. French country tastes are more her theme. "I began to find that the best foods came from the farmers who were practicing sustainable agriculture, the organic farmers," she said after dinner, referring to her earliest years in the bohemian restaurant trade. "These were the people who really cared, ecologically the locals growing fresh produce and bringing it in to market." This clicked with what she experienced during youthful stints in Europe, as well as with a major precept of the Slow Food movement: To encourage each region in celebrating its artisans and native culinary practices. "At the table we are nourished and gladdened, put in touch with the source of life, and reconnected to traditions and creativity," reads part of the Chez Panisse mission statement. One of the blessings of essentially lacking inhibition is the fact that you often fall into excellent company without planning it out. Such was my luck the evening of the benefit, in the form of an entourage from Bloomington's The Garlic Press. Paul and Dotti Bushnell own the upscale culinary supplies shop, and their seven-person party welcomed me very warmly to be their eighth. I can't imagine accidentally bumping into a more interesting cadre; she, for instance, was born in India, while he took off a year of college to explore Afghanistan.
"You're sitting down with a table of real Foodies," Mr. Bushnell advised me prior. Thirty-six years a professor of history at Illinois Wesleyan, his knowledge of both wine and world is extensive and entertaining. "The idea," he explained, "is to gather with people who not only like to eat well, but who love to talk food, who enjoy the experience of it…" These dinner companions served as professional commentators on an interesting range of delectables (and when you're on safari, it's nice to know your guides are familiar with lions). From appetizers and aperitif through three courses, cheese, and dessert, they kept the observational ball rolling. The verdict? Excellent. The Garlic Press party was particularly impressed with the collective caliber of the four wine offerings. They also saw the occasion as a very worthy cause. As Bushnell put it, "If you live in cities, you can almost get to thinking that the natural state of the earth is asphalt."
Though I didn't bump into them, a contingent of other Decaturites attended the evening's festivities, including Jo Caulkins and Linda Mills. Mills is an Archer Daniels Midland employee whose interest in Slow Food was piqued several years ago by an article in the Wall Street Journal. She joined Prairieland's group when she couldn't turn one up at home. But she thinks there are quite a few people here who may be, "interested in more than just slapping some peanut butter on some bread. I'm really into food, and there's a low profile set around town that's the same way." Should interest come to fruition, we have an upside in Decatur. While ADM's hydroponics division isn't classified as strictly organic, it does concentrate on pesticide-free produce. Mills believes there are farmers in the area who cultivate enough natural foodstuff to supply a local chapter. Additionally, ingredients from Mattoon, Urbana, Mahomet, and other downstate niches would be available. Farms in all these areas delivered provisions for the Champaign benefit. Mills reports the Prairieland chapter has a full slate of events, but that she has a difficult time making the commute. Her biggest wish is for a hometown convivia, in order to fully appreciate the necessary luxury of just slowing down for a while. Which, after all, is the whole point. For information regarding the formation of a Decatur Slow Food Convivia, feel free to contact Linda Mills, (217) 875-5325 or Zachary Shields, (217) 428-2091. You can find more information, too, at: www.slowfood.com Zachary Shields, a product of sound parenting and Miami University, Ohio, lives and writes in Decatur.

This article originally appeared in the August/September 2002 issue of Decatur Magazine. It may not be reproduced or redistributed in whole or in part without the publisher's consent. © Copyright 2002 Decatur Magazine - First String Productions. All rights reserved.