Simply put, Wagyu means Japanese cow, But the straightforward definition belies a subject riddled with misinformation.
For starters, it’s pronounced wah-gyoo, not wah-goo, a mispronunciation that’s common even among American Wagyu farms (and that admittedly tripped up even this intrepid reporter), says Heitzeberg.
And Wagyu isn’t an umbrella term for just any Japanese cow. The luxury version of Wagyu we all want on our plates refers to a specific breed of Japanese cattle with special genetic qualities. “There are four breeds native to Japan. Of those four breeds, one of the breeds is genetically unique,” Heitzeberg says. “It has a genetic predisposition to create this crazy marbling of fat on inside of muscle tissue. No other livestock does that.” Think of your average piece of steak. Chances are, it’ll have a fat cap on its outside. With Wagyu, the cow metabolizes the fat internally, so it’s integrated within the muscle.
ON OCTOBER 1, 1933, GERMANS sat down to an unusually frugal Sunday lunch. For decades, even centuries, the norm had been a roast dinner, usually characterized by a great, bronzed hunk of animal, flanked by potatoes. This was the crowning glory of the week—a meal to be savored and celebrated. But that day, nine months after the Nazis first came to power, Germans ate simple, inexpensive food. Some ate Irish stew; others steaming pots of pea soup, made with Speck and dried beans. Another common dish was macaroni Milanese, a stodgy predecessor to mac and cheese flecked with a confetti of rosy ham. All these dishes had three important things in common: They were inexpensive; they were made in a single pot; and they had been officially sanctioned by the Nazis.
A new report from the U.S. Department of Agriculture shows the percentage of farms that are small and family owned is staying steady, but they produce less and are more financially risky.
The USDA Economic Research Service last week released its latest America's Diverse Family Farms report, which provides current statistics on U.S. farms, including production, financial performance, size and ownership.
Among the findings in the report is that the percentage of farms that are small and family owned remained unchanged from 2011 to 2020, holding steady at 89% of all farms.
A lot of farmers and hunters are building DIY coolers for hanging their deer and beef cattle, using a home-made walk-in freezer and an ordinary window air conditioner controlled by a CoolBot to bring the temperature down to the temperatures needed to cool meat.
t 11,000 feet above sea level, the Cusco airport offers arriving passengers dry coca leaves for chewing—a millennia-old practice locals keep alive today. Coca leaves are ubiquitous in the historical capital of the Inca Empire in the Peruvian Andes. Throughout the surrounding Sacred Valley, hotels welcome tourists with bitter, earthy, and herbaceous coca tea to combat soroche (altitude sickness), bars serve coca-infused pisco cocktails, and bakers grind the leaves to make bread. The leaves are part of the cultural, culinary, and ecological fabric of the region.
Meanwhile, in the United States, coca leaves have two primary associations, neither of which is quite so wholesome: cocaine and Coca-Cola. In 1961, the United Nations declared coca leaves an illegal narcotic, and, outside of countries like Peru and Bolivia, it’s illegal to use the plant. But one US company was given a pass.
Coca leaves and kola nuts gave Coca-Cola its name and its distinct flavor, and cocaine—an isolated alkaloid from coca leaves that, in ultra-concentrated form, becomes the addictive narcotic—was once an ingredient in the drink. An advertisement from the late 19th century, when cocaine was legal in the United States, promoted Coca-Cola as a promising brain tonic that relieved headaches and mental or physical exhaustion. Another swore that Coca-Cola syrup cured nervous afflictions, with drugstore soda fountains soon becoming a vehicle to dispense over-the-counter doses to customers.
