Day Five – A can of veg.
I hate canned vegetables. There I said it. It’s out there. All of us now uncomfortable with the situation, those nasty words fouling the air around us. Squirming in our seats and feigning an interest in our napkins, we pretend that statement was never uttered. The reality being, it did happen. And, there is nothing we can do to turn back time.
For myself, canned vegetables cause reminiscence of the ’70’s, sitting in the Walnut Hills cafeteria/gym (the tables folded down out of the walls of the gym) and eating a school lunch. Ladies with nets on their heads scooping the vile things onto a paper tray along with other items, that I carry begrudgingly back to the table I share with friends. Of course, no one ever ate that portion of the meal for obvious reasons. Our focus remaining with the main dish of the day (pizza, tacos and everything else that Jamie Oliver is fighting against each Friday night). As for the vegetables, well they followed the path of the paper tray into the trash.
Collectively, we weren’t all that ecologically focused back then. Well, most of us weren’t. Paper trays were convenient, didn’t require washing and recycling hadn’t yet caught on.
Actually, the majority of us had a lot of issues that I suspect were founded in our fashion sense (or more to the point, that of our parents). Note the picture at right. Yes, that is me on the left, arms akimbo and acting proud that my cousin Reed and I had matching outfits. A cruel joke by our mothers. One that many years later, my mother still attempts with my brother and I, usually around Christmas with a matching something-or-other. Now that I think about it, I don’t think Reed or I has had this much hair since this picture was taken.
One thing that I do remember fondly, is that my family had a garden from which we would not only pick and eat fresh vegetables (my brother ate all the strawberries), but we would can or pickle them for use later. Peas were always my favorite, eaten fresh after picking and shelling, along with the beets we would pickle (or ‘can’) for later. And, as much as I have hazed my mother for her Navy Bean Soup recipe, to this day I think her pickled beats were the best. I would eat them by the jar and her recipe is what fans my desire for the purple-y goodness to this day.
The technology of canning foods was developed during the Napoleonic Era in an effort to supply armies (specifically, Napoleon’s Army) with food on their lengthy campaigns. And, lets be honest, the technology behind it has not improved much since that time. Instead, we have developed flash-freezing processes that much improve the end product.
However, the reason for canned foods remains sound. Canned foods are an invention that has very much stood the test of time. They are shelf stable, require little in the way of preparation, and are inexpensive. Providing frozen goods to vast quantities of people is, at best, ineffective. At worst, it is potentially unhealthy and expensive, not to mention environmentally taxing in terms of the amount of energy required to freeze and keep frozen. After all, the nutritional value is the necessity along with a safe method of delivery, and this is what canned foods offer.
So, where am I going with all this drivel? Well, tonight I opened the first can of vegetables that I have opened for . . . well, I can’t remember the last time. As part of my grocery list I had purchased a can of green beans to use during The Challenge, and tonight I did. I was dreading it. Dreading it almost as much as cooking the Navy Beans I had purchased.
The original dish that I had planned went out the window as soon as I opened the can. They looked fresher than I remembered. Oh, and french cut, which took me a second to realize (I had to look at the can for confirmation, then utter an expletive or two). But most importantly, they looked pretty good. Now what to do with them?
I settled on a stir-fry. I drained the beans in a colander. Turned on the burner and started the rice. The chicken, roasted successfully the other day, would make a fine addition. Onion from the larder, and a couple of tablespoons of the gelatinous broth in the fridge. Rice wine vinegar, hoisin and sambal to add spice.
Once the Rice was finished, I heated up the wok. Adding oil and onion, I let them saute for a minute. Next was the chicken, sliced thin, to brown and heat from the fridge. Stock to de-glaze, followed by hoisin, sambal and soy. The excitement was mounting. Last came the beans which were chowed briefly just to heat and toss with the luscious brown sauce underneath. I scooped the blend and placed it over the rice in the bowl. Then I reached for my chopsticks.
It was delicious. And suddenly, I realized, I was wrong.
Canned foods are not the evil I remembered. The evil was in the brutality they suffered while ‘cooked’.
And, they are a necessity for millions of people.


