And the Stupidity Continues:

Last month, at Tales of the Cocktail, a week-long convention for the spirits industry in New Orleans, Eben Freeman, best known as the creator of smoked Coke and "solid" cocktails at the now-defunct Tailor in Manhattan's SoHo neighborhood, gave a seminar on protecting one's intellectual property as a bartender. The panelists, Sheila Morrison from the Trademark Office, and Riley Lagesen, who has a private business law practice with a niche focus on the restaurant industry, discussed the nature of a bartender's creative work and who is allowed to use it. After the seminar, I spoke to Freeman, who admitted he came up with the idea for the talk after becoming fed up with other bartenders and establishments taking credit for and profiting from his recipes and techniques. (Fat washing, for example, the process by which a spirit can be infused with, say, bacon, was pioneered in part by Freeman, yet is often attributed to others.) "Someone needs to get sued ... to set a precedent," he told me.

"In no other creative business can you so easily identify money attached to your creative property," Freeman went on. "There is an implied commerce to our intellectual property. Yet we have less protection than anyone else."

Well, except for chefs. You have the exact same protection as chefs...

...oh, and cookbook authors. You have the same protections as they do.

In fact, bartenders (or mixologists, or whatever they are calling themselves today) have the same exact protections as anyone else who creates recipes, formulas, compounds, or prescriptions. Do you know why?

Because recipes, formulas, compounds, or prescriptions are not covered by copyright law. Period. End of sentence. it's all spelled out in Form Letter 122 from the U.S. Government Copyright office:

Mere listings of ingredients as in recipes, formulas, compounds, or prescriptions are not subject to copyright protection. However, when a recipe or formula is accompanied by substantial literary expression in the form of an explanation or directions, or when there is a combination of recipes, as in a cookbook, there may be a basis for copyright protection.

The key phrase there is "substantial literary expression". Let me explain how this works...again.

Part I:

I like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, as they bring a bright smile to my face. They are especially good with a cold glass of milk.

Part II:

• 2 slices of white bread
• 3 Tablespoons peanut butter
• 2 Tablespoons strawberry Jelly

Part III:

With a knife, spread the peanut butter on one slice of bread. With the same knife, spread the jelly on the other side of bread. Press together the two slices of bread, with the peanut butter and jelly facing each other.

Here's the deal. Part I is under copyright. An entity cannot reproduce Part I (even as bad as it is) without attribution.

Part II is not protected by copyright. Period. Underline three times.

Part III is where it gets a bit iffy. In the case of the above, Part III is most likely not sheltered by copyright. There's not much in the form of literary expression. Instead, it's essentially a formula that uses the list of ingredients. Such formulas are not covered by copyright.

If there was a fair amount of prose interspersed within the formula, then it can be protected by copyright. If Part III was dressed up with memories of making the sandwiches, and tied together with a personal anecdote or two then no one could legally use it without permission.

However, if someone were to extract that literary expression from the formula/process, and leave the bare bones instructions on how to make the peanut butter sandwich, there's little I can do about that.

This format is true whether your listing the components for tempering metals, to creating the best Irish Coffee known to man. It cannot be copyrighted.

While I respect the desire for people to make a buck or two on their work, sentiments such as this:

A communal spirit may foster creativity, (Freeman) said, but guarding the provenance of ideas enforces integrity.

...do more to inhibit progress of any given industry rather than further it. "Guarding the provenance of ideas" does nothing more than restrict access to said ideas.

Unless of course, you're willing to pay for it. In which case, recipes, formulas, compounds, or prescriptions would only be accessible to those wealthy enough to afford it.

Because I have been reminded how much I love good brittle, I figured I should share the moment with y'all.

Alarm at 4:30. In car at 6:00. Flight at 9:30. First layover at 6:00. Second layover at 7 the next day. Arrive at destination at 11:30. Hotel at 1.

I am finding the process of travel interesting. I'm not talking about "traveling", which, to most of us, means being someplace else for an extended period of time, other than where we typically lay our heads . No, I'm talking about the actual act of "travel", known as the time between leaving the house and officially arriving at your planned destination. More and more, I'm beginning to see this time frame as a limbo here on earth, a purgatory of our own making, and one which, for the most part, we volunteer to participate.

There are several components to this. Having been to more than my fair share of train stations and airports, I can safely say that these are locations that exist solely as entrance and exit points, and are rarely destinations in of themselves, based on their own merits. Rare is the person who flies into O'Hare for the purpose of being in O'Hare. The typical person, once arriving at an airport or train station, will endeavor to leave it as soon as practical.

But until that moment, these places become of a formal community of strangers. And, depending upon the location, the size of that community can be small to quite large. Consider for the moment that Atlanta's airport, Hartsfield–Jackson Atlanta International Airport, during its peak period on any given day, makes it anywhere between the fourth to sixth most populous city in Georgia.

To put it another way, Hartsfield–Jackson is a city that has, on average, 100,000 different citizens every day. Imagine if all of the residents of Green Bay, Wisconsin simply upped and left one day, to be replaced by 100,000 new residents, and then have this repeat itself day after day after day.

Now add in the second component, that of time. Being part of a transitory citizenry means that, almost by definition, everyone is from someplace else. Places where it's not 3 o'clock in the afternoon, but rather five hours ahead, seven hours behind, or some other time of day. Now you have 100,000 people in this transitory community who aren't even on the same schedule.

Then there's the effect of travel upon an individual. When at home, the day rolls in a regular fashion, quite linear. The scheduled events are known by rote, the mailman arrives at noon, one's partner gets home from work at 5, bedtime is 10-ish. Yes there are events that happen spontaneously, and others that are scheduled purposely outside of the norm, but for the most part, life is a predictable pattern.

Travel takes that pattern and tosses it out the window. Either the flight forces you to get up at an ungodly hour, or your itinerary takes you beyond your time zone, or the actual act of travel requires you to be on the move for over fifteen hours or more. And the further you are away from your home time zone, the more your body rejects the schedule you are trying to fit it into. Most people know this as jet lag.

But jet-lag is what happens after you arrive at your destination. When in the midst of travel, time becomes essentially meaningless. Specific moments in time are important, certainly. You have to be at your gate by a precise moment, or you'll extend your stay in limbo. But the concept of units of time? They are only important once as a means of prediction or rationalizations of complaints. "We should be in London in three hours" or "I've been on this lay-over for seven hours" you'll often hear. These units of times seem to serve no other purpose. Because travel is directed by the schedules of other people (unless you're driving), time is little more than a means to express how long we've been traveling, or how long we have yet to travel. The idea of the eight hour work day, or 30 minutes it takes to watch a sit-com, or the hour-and-a-half it takes until your partner comes home from work, all of these ideas of time are now non-essential.

Mix all of these components together, and the result is a near orchestrated chaos, a nearly surreal series of events meant to ensure that we end up someplace different from where we started. We give the responsibility of travel to the hands of others, often strangers, and leave ourselves at the mercy of their experience. Our lives, for the most part, are out of our hands. We are tired, amongst strangers, and hoping beyond hope that when we land, it all will have been worth it.

(Note: As you can probably guess, I wrote this elsewhere. My apologies if it comes across as obvious, and/or whiney. It was meant as neither.)

(NOTE: Most of this post will have very little to do with candy, but it's still an important bridge between when we last saw sugar - in India, roughly between 500 BC to 500 AD - and how it ended up in Europe in around the eighth century)

If ever you want to demonstrate how little you know about history, by all means, use the phrase "the Dark Ages". This terminology that is meant to represent the period of time from the fall of Rome to roughly the start of the Renaissance. It is called the "dark ages" because it is said to represent the period of time when little cultural improvements were made, and in fact, many institutions and improvements that were discovered under the Greeks and Romans had regressed or even vanished.

The problem with this terminology is that, despite historians pointing out that...

a) ...the Dark Ages only represents an era of time as recorded in Western Europe,

and

b) Even in Western Europe, a lot of cool and interesting things were happening, even if there were precious few strong, centralized governments,

those of us who grew up under Western Culture has a very strong blind spot to many of the world events that took place between the death of Roman Emperor Theodosius I in 395AD, to the Norman invasion of Britain in 1066. That's almost a seven-century black out in our collective subconscious.

Which is sadly, quite a shame, because many of the events that occurred post 1066 have a direct correlation to events that happened in the centuries prior. The two big items that need to be addressed, at least from my point of view are as follows:

1) The rise of Constantinople, and the economic and trade powerhouse that this empire became.
2) The founding of the Islam and Muslim cultures, and subsequent Muslim expansionism.

Both of these topics are intergral to European development, for both brought in trade and ideas from the lands of the far east. Venice, which plays a major role in European trade for the first four centuries of the second millenium, could not have exerted as much power as they did without the weight of the Eastern Roman Empire behind them.

The Muslims? I've talked a small bit about their contributions before. For our purposes surrounding candy, what you need to know is the following - both modern day pharmacology as well as the importation of the sugar cane into Europe, happened due to the Muslim expansionism into the Mediterranean. Had these events happened differently, our view of candy would be far different today.

It is at this point where my book is going to start. The Muslims found themselves on Europe's doorstep, making inroads into the Iberian peninsula in 711, and, after a few false starts, Sicily in 902. And with them, the brought the sugar cane, which they had procured from the Persians. This is when everything starts to change.

I am, officially, old, at least when it comes to the world of food blogging. What this means is that I get to play Ouiser Boudreaux against the next crop of Annelle Dupuy Desotos that come along.

In that veine, let me present a list of Questions that I feel should be sent out to anyone who wishes to fire up wordpress and start the next big food blog.

• Know why you are writing: This is the first question you should ask yourself. What do you hope to get out of committing to a food blog? "Fun" is an adequate, yet still somewhat vague answer. "To practice writing", is a little more precise. Without answering this question, your blog will likely be directionless, and will be more difficult to maintain. Not that there's anything wrong with this. The world is littered with abandoned hobbies.
• Professional/Amateur: This is related, somewhat, to the previous point. You should decide on whether you wish to make some money or not. This affects everything from the design of your website to what you write about.
• Uncomfortable Truth #1: You will likely make very little money if you go the professional route. The novelty of blogging has worn off, not just in the food arena, but in general. Advertising revenue is more likely to go to the sites that can garner the largest audience. You, with your small site, may attract some money (and in this economy, every little bit helps), but certainly not enough to allow you to focus entirely on blogging.
• There is only one secret to keep readers on your site: Quality content may not be the primary means to bring people to your website, but it is the only thing to keep them coming back. Regular content that engages the reader on some level has always been shown to work. No amount of Search Engine Optimization can alter this fact.
• If you're blogging for fun, you needn't worry about Search Engine Optimization: I've always been amazed by the amount of food bloggers out there who claim to be food blogging only as a hobby, who then go apeshit over SEO. It's okay to want readers. But let's be honest here - if you're looking for readers (and this is what SEO is ultimately about), then you are blogging for reasons other than just "fun". It's okay to want to be popular. But it brings up other uncomfortable truths.
• Uncomfortable Truth #2: The era of the personal blog is behind us. I'm not saying they don't exist now and will not exist in the future. What I mean is that Institutional blogs are where most online readers are going to go, whether it's Slashfood, HuffingtonPost, or The Atlantic. These are the sites that are better positioned to draw in more readers than the blogs created by single individuals. There's a reason for this. It's easier to gather content when you have more than one person creating it. This leads to...
• Uncomfortable Truth #3: Creating engaging content on a regular basis is difficult. It's not impossible, just difficult. There will be days when you don't want to write. There will be nights when you don't want to cook. In other words, feeding the blogging beast will result in days where blogging ceases to be fun. If your goal is to be professional, then you have to work through these days. If you're looking merely to have fun, then it's okay to NOT post.

• You are your own expert Pt.1: Food writing will eventually take you to areas in which you are unfamiliar. If your goal is to have engaging content, you will have to find ways to obtain the information needed to become somewhat knowledgeable. Don't know the several levels of sugar cooking? Either change subjects or teach yourself. Have you never iced a cake professionally before? Either don't write about it, or learn how to ice a cake. There are people out there who both 1) Know more than you and 2) love to point out your mistakes.

  Additionally, it has been my experience that, no matter how many times I point out that I received a valuable tidbit of information from a specific book, that valuable tidbit of information will eventually be ascribed back to me. So it is my responsibility to ensure that the information is right.

• You are your own expert Pt.2: It seems to me that there are more people out there willing to tell you how to create a good blog, than those who actually have one. These are the folks who tell you that you need to optimize your revenue stream, connect to your audience on twitter, and set up a relevant Facebook page.

  These people can be ignored, for the most part. Work with what you are comfortable with, and remember that engaging content is far more important, long term, than short term gain in your optimized revenue stream.

• Recipes are free: Legally speaking, no one owns a recipe. The prose outside of the ingredient list and recipe instruction are a different matter, but beyond that, the idea of recipe copyright is a fallacy and a dangerous one at that.
• Give Credit: As a follow-up to the above point, give credit where its due. If you alter a recipe, let us know of its source. If you copied it verbatim, let us know why. If you found a key piece of information that helps support your theory on why butter is better than margarine, tell us who supplied the relevant information. This has at least two benefits. 1) It prevents you from being a jerk. and 2) It makes content more engaging.
• Uncomfortable Truth #4: You may have had a wide range of experiences in your life that allow for a whole slew of anecdotes. You may have storytelling down pat. But at some point in the very near future, it will not be enough. You will need to read the works of others. This includes both websites and ancient classics. If you are not a reader, then writing on a regular basis will be difficult.
• Uncomfortable Truth #5: You may be isolated. While your friends and family may appreciate that you've got a new hobby, they may not have the passion that you do surrounding food. For example - have you ever been to a party or dinner when someone brings up fishing/knitting/football/LARPing? Do you remember how bored you were while they were talking, but you nodding your head anyways, not wanting to spoil their joys? Now imagine your recent talk to your friends about sous-vide. At least one of your friends is nodding out of sheer politeness.
• Uncomfortable Truth #6: At some point, you will have fun. You will either feel great at exploring new dishes and techniques, or proud that you are feeding your family on a regular basis, or even if you get to learn some obscure fact that opens new worlds.

First, a hit of backstory - A few months back, at the IACP conference in Portland, Michael Ruhlman called "Bullshit" on the claim made by Karen Page and others that we're getting too busy to cook.

Afterwards, a mini-storm brewed on twitter, one which annoyed me to no end. A fair amount of the food fans out there became exceedingly self-congratulatory on how they home cooked six or seven nights out of the week, and implied that those who did not were not only missing out, but were somehow missing the point of being a "real foodie", or some-other similar nonsense that sought to demonstrate how seriously awesome they were at being a honest-to-goodness home cook, and that others should aspire to be more like them.

It's attitudes such as these that make me crazy. For one, it missed the basic premise of Mr. Ruhlman's point. Secondly, such claims as those made by these self-professed keepers-of-home-cooking cause do more to segregate members of the food culture away from one another, rather than encouraging people to eat well. Let me address both points below.

First, to Mr. Ruhlman's point - as I read it, there was no claim that we should be cooking at home every day of the week. His call of "bullshit" was to the idea that we are too busy to cook. Inside any given day, our lives are filled with choices that affect and draw upon that limited and valuable resource known as "time". Those choices affect what you can and cannot do during a given twenty-four hour day. If you choose to sit and watch television for three hours, or choose to go to the gym for forty-five minutes and then recuperate for ninety minutes afterwards, instead of cooking, then it's not that you're too busy to cook. It's that you put a higher priority on watching television or going to the gym than cooking. This doesn't make you a bad person, it simply means that you've made a choice.

The second part of Ruhlman's point is that because we have a limited resource known as time, we feel as if we need to gain some of it back, and we do so by purchasing foods made by corporations and sold to us under the heading of "convenient". These conveniences, sadly, are lacking in quality, and don't actually serve to make our lives better. In fact, they have a long term effect of us accepting mediocre products into our lives under the impression that it brings valuable time back into our day. Additionally, a basic understanding of a few recipes can help people realize that home cooking isn't that inconvenient, and has the added benefit of being a social experience. As an example, a simple puttanesca can be made in less that twenty minutes.

Michael further clarified his point in a Huffington Post piece, where he faulted food editors for giving the impression that cooking was an inconvenience. I'm paraphrasing in the interest of space, and suggest you read his thought-provoking piece here.

What happened in the twitterverse, and on more than a few blogs, was that the first part of his point was completely lost. Many people interpreted his point as some variation of "home cooks are da bomb, and everyone else just doesn't get it". Then the food universe divided into two distinct camps. One group became self-congratulatory (those who cooked at home on a regular basis). Others became pissed as many people have quite busy lives, and some took offense at the fact suddenly they were deemed as unworthy and as being outside of the foodie universe.

My own take? I fell somewhere in the second camp. I'm comfortable in making choices, and have never felt the need to defend them to anyone but my loved ones, but let me fill you in on my current situation. I cook less, now that I'm writing and researching, all the while keeping a full time job. I'm eating less, because I'm living a somewhat sedentary lifestyle, and don't need to have home cooked meals when I get home, choosing instead to pick up some hummus and raw veggies from the local grocery store. And I live with a picky eater, so there's little social value in cooking for myself. My home cooking of late has been almost nil. As I followed Ruhlman's argument, I mostly agreed, and shrugged off the rest.

However, on twitter, I did go off once or twice when a few folks felt the need continually tell the rest of us how much more awesome their lives were by cooking at home.

So what's my point? All of this is my way of getting to a recent post at Cook Local, who said simply:

...while I don’t believe that everyone can cook every night, I do believe that anyone can cook any night.

The point made was spot on. There's no value judgements based off of life's many choices, there's no segregation between those who supposedly get it versus those who supposedly don't. It's a simple option - when you choose to cook, let's figure out how to do it well. If you choose not to cook, that's okay too, and let's find a way to make sure you eat well with that option.

Typically when an American thinks of nougat, if they think about it at all, it's thought of as the soft filling of the 3 Musketeers or Milky Way. This is a tad unfortunate, as well as close to being an improper definition of the word. It is unfortunate, because, as far as candy is concerned, nougat has likely been around for at least two millennia, while chocolate candy bars have only been here for about one hundred and sixty years. It is almost an improper definition, as nougat is really a recipe of simplicity, consisting of nothing more than egg whites, sugar or honey, and nuts. Fortunately for candy companies, there are multiple variations of nougat out there, so one could say that a nougat could contain malted barley, wheat flour, and soy protein as well. So they do.

Additionally, nougat goes by many names, including torrone in Italy, turron in Spain, and Gaz in Iran and other areas of South Asia.

What makes nougat so interesting to me is the fact that no one can seem to settle upon its history. While many historians feel that nougat comes from ancient Rome where a sweet made from honey, almonds, and eggs was made and used for celebrations, others feel that it is a more recent confection. Alas, confectioners are rarely food historians, and many regions feel the need to lay claim to the treat themselves. For example, it is said that the first known documented mention in Italy of torrone was in the year 1441 in Cremona, where at the wedding of Francesco Sforza to Maria Bianca Visconti, a new sweet was created in the couple’s honor.

It's an interesting story, made more intriguing by the fact that it's completely false. It's not only false, but it's easily disproved by a quick look at the cookbooks made prior to the fifteenth century. Within the Kitāb al-Ţabīkh, a tenth century Arabic cookbook, one can easily find several recipes for types of nougat, including one which bears a remarkable resemblance to the basic torrone recipe.

While I appreciate the fact that chocolate = nougat = something delicious, it needs to be pointed out that nougat by itself can be a delightful treat, and many convey deep complexities that are lost when chocolate becomes the primary ingredients. Those nougats that are made with roasted nuts, and especially those that are sweetened by different sorts of honey particularly stand out. Those infused with rose water or lavender also make wonderful candies.

If it sounds as if I hold a soft spot for nougat, well, guilty as charged. As we slowly migrate into the era of artisanal confections, nougat is one of two treats I wish we Americans would learn to appreciate (marzipan being the other). The nougats found in the middle of the various Mars product lines are okay, but nougats are so much more interesting than that. It doesn't deserve to play second fiddle to chocolate, and it should be taken just as seriously.

Before going to deep into this discussion, I recommend either clicking here or clicking on the graphic above, to fully appreciate the scope of the information provided. Don't worry. I'll wait.

(tapping foot. Humming a happy tune)

Good! You're back!

There's a lot of information in there, and even more if you wandered over to Philip H. Howard's full article on just how little variety there is in the beverage industry. You can get a full idea on what he's trying to say right up front in "background".

Three firms control 89% of US soft drink sales [1]. This dominance is obscured from us by the appearance of numerous choices on retailer shelves. Steve Hannaford refers to this as "pseudovariety," or the illusion of diversity, concealing a lack of real choice [2]. To visualize the extent of pseudovariety in this industry we developed a cluster diagram to represent the number of soft drink brands and varieties found in the refrigerator cases of 94 Michigan retailers, along with their ownership connections.

In other words, there are two variables at play in the marketplace that give the appearance of variety, but in reality, that variety is almost an illusion. Let me reword this a bit with some of my own observations.

When three major corporations control nearly 90% of the beverage market, innovation slows to a trickle, if not completely. New products, introduced under the auspices of "innovation" and "variety", really are nothing more that simulacra of other products already released by one of the other two corporations. So while a release of a product gives the impression of variety, in reality, that variety was already established by someone else.

For example, let's take tea. Dr. Pepper owns Snapple, Coca-Cola owns Nestea (and others), and Pepsi owns Lipton. While between these brands there are forty-two varieties, in reality, the true number of variety of teas is roughly fourteen. You could make the argument here for any number of beverages, from fruit juices, to water, to even colas.

Now add the variable of frequency of product. For example, a shop is more likely to carry Coca-Cola, rather than, say, Jolt Cola. Let's choose a number of shops as an example, say, ten. Out of those ten shops, all ten will have Coca-Cola and Pepsi-Cola. Only one may have Jolt Cola. So while the marketplace allows for Jolt to exist, and even claim a tiny bit of the market, the reality is that Coke and Pepsi control 90% of the shelf space allotted to Cola's.

The one variable not mentioned in the report (and really, the report is little more than a statistic's dump, albeit one that results in a lot of questions), is that of slotting fees.

For those of you unfamiliar, slotting fees are the fees paid by companies for the use of the real estate in the aisles of convenience stores, supermarkets, and drug stores throughout the United States. Those with deeper pockets can afford to shell out the money for larger portions of space on the shelves, include the prime locations of those shelves that sit right at eye level. So, while Jolt Cola may be able to get room on the shelves, they may have to sit on the upper most, or lower most shelves.

So what the numbers give is the appearance of variety, when in fact, there is actually very little variety available, at least after the shelving space is doled out to the big three.

"But Kate!", I can hear you proclaiming. "I see new variety of products being released by Coke or Pepsi all of the time!"

To which I say "Well, variety really isn't the issue. Innovation is."

My argument, un-sussed out, goes something like this.

When there is innovation in the marketplace, one of two things happens. It's either pushed aside by one of the big three, through the use of slotting fees and other similar tactics (distribution mostly, as getting a new product to market is often more logistically complicated than producing the innovative product in the first place).

After passing the "reaching the initial market" hurdle, if the product shows any life on the shelves it will either (eventually) plateau in sales, or it will reach a distribution agreement with Coke or Pepsi, or Dr. Pepper, and find a larger audience that way.

After passing the distribution hurdle, if the product shows any life on the shelves, it will either (eventually) plateau, or get purchased by one of the big three if:

1. Is a product that effectively reaches a new market segment.
2. Is a product that one of the other two companies have a simulcra.

There are likely other, smaller variables, but those are the big two.

If the new product gets purchased by one of the big three, that means even more exposure, and a likely larger market segment.

So here's my question to you out there. When was the last time that Coke, Pepsi, or Dr. Pepper took a risk and created their own new product? Vanilla Coke? Code Red Mountain Dew? Aren't those just extensions of already established brands?

The typical path of innovation often happens outside of the big three, and if the idea is successful, they use their clout and deep pockets to buy that innovation and call it their own. While Mr. Howard says that all of these products are, at their root, nothing more than sugar water (and to some extent he's right), my point is that there are a multitude of flavors of sugar water, enough that establish some measure of variety. The real problem surrounding an oligopoly is that of innovation.

I generally try to resist these stories, because they are so damned many of them, and I'll get burned out on the depression that they always instill.

But in this case, the number is so huge, and the problem is so widespread, that it is worth getting the information out.

The problem? From the FDA:

Working closely with the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) and state public health partners, the FDA reviewed epidemiologic and environmental investigation documents and identified 3 best-case clusters of Salmonella Enteritidis illnesses. Tracebacks revealed Wright County Egg in Iowa as the common shell egg supplier in these clusters.

On August 13, Wright County Egg voluntarily conducted a nationwide recall of shell eggs on 3 of its 5 farms. Further epidemiologic and traceback information led to Wright County Egg expanding its recall on August 18 to cover all 5 farms and 380 million eggs (according to company figures).

How can you tell if you have some of the eggs being recalled? First, make sure your area is being investigated as part of the recall. The recall affects eggs shipped since May 16, 2010 that were sent to food wholesalers, distribution centers and foodservice companies in California, Illinois, Missouri, Colorado, Nebraska, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Arizona, Texas, Georgia, Washington, Oregon, Nevada, Utah, Arkansas, Oklahoma and Iowa.

Then go to your egg carton and look at this part of the label:

Shell eggs under the August 13, 2010 recall are packaged under the brand names: Lucerne, Albertson, Mountain Dairy, Ralph’s, Boomsma’s, Sunshine, Hillandale, Trafficanda, Farm Fresh, Shoreland, Lund, Dutch Farms and Kemps. Shell eggs are packed in 6-egg cartons, 12-egg cartons, 18-egg cartons, and loose eggs with Julian dates ranging from 136 to 225 and plant numbers 1026, 1413 and 1946.

Recalled shell eggs affected by the expanded recall are packaged under the brand names: Albertsons, Farm Fresh, James Farms, Glenview, Mountain Dairy, Ralphs, Boomsma, Lund, Kemps and Pacific Coast. Eggs are packed in varying sizes of cartons (6-egg, 12-egg, and18-egg cartons, and loose eggs for institutional use and repackaging) with Julian dates ranging from 136 to 229 and plant numbers 1720 and 1942. If you have any within the fields listed, toss them or return them to their retailer for a refund. Individuals who think they might have become ill from eating recalled eggs should consult their health care providers. If consumers are unsure about the source of their eggs, they are urged not to eat them and to discard them immediately.

Now pardon me as I go clean out my refrigerator.

The picture above was pulled from Food Poison Journal. See more about this recall and many, many others at that site.

In noting the famous people surrounding candy, most will be specific to candy itself. This is unsurprising, I know. But Aelius Galenus really should be considered famous for every bit of Western Food history between 100 AD and 1800 AD, not just for candy. For it was he who helped create a typology of human temperaments, expanding upon the work of Hippocrates.

I've talked about the work of Galen before. I'm bringing him up again because, quite frankly, candy would be quite different without his influence.

Aelius Galenus made many contributions to medicine, from defining anatomy and pathology, to being a top notch surgeon. But from my perspective, it is his promotion of the idea that imbalances between humors corresponded with a particular human temperament. If you were heavy in blood, you would be sanguine. Melancholic? Too much black bile was stated to be in your system. Yellow bile meant you were choleric, while an extra amount of phlegm made one phlegmatic. Each of these categorizations were based off of heat (or lack there of) and moisture (or lack thereof). Sanguine meant you had an excess amount of heat and moisture. Melancholic meant you were excessively cool and dry.

As his topology took off, foods were also categorized as being part of the humor system. Certain kinds of food were promoted blood production, others make you phlegmatic. When one was ill, it was believed that one of the humors was out of whack, and one way to correct that imbalance was to counteract it with a food of the opposite humor. Thus every food consumed was believed to have an effect upon the humoral system.

Sugar was considered hot and moist, or sanguine. For those individuals who demonstrated an overly melancholic (cold and dry) symptoms, it was suggested that they partake of sugar in order to balance their system.

During the Dark Ages, a fair bit of Galen's work was ignored or dismissed due to his work initially not being translated into Latin. But those in history who had access to Greek archives and could read the language, Galen's influence increased. This would include the Muslims of the late first millennium.

It was the Muslims who furthered pharmacology and brought their knowledge into Europe during this time period, also bringing with them granulated sugar that was used in many of their medicines. Because sugar was available in minimal amounts, varying amounts of sugar was added to these concoctions, depending upon how out of balance the patient was determined to be. If a patient was deemed to be choleric (hot and dry) or phlegmatic (cool and moist), then small amounts of sugar were added to their medicines. If a patient was melancholic? An excessive amount of sugar was given.

Often the sugar was given via syrups. But as the knowledge of sugar increased, pills and lozenges were created with varying amounts of sugar. And what are lozenges? At their core, they are candies made from sugar and herbs.

All of this is due to Galen, who helped promote the humoral system with his typology of human temperaments indirectly affected the evolution of candy. This is something to consider next time you suck on an Altoid.