About Barbara Murray

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Barbara Murray began covering the food manufacturing industry for Hoover’s in 2001 -- and she’s been on a diet ever since. She suspects it’s possible to gain weight by merely reading and writing about food. That’s what she tells herself anyway.

Wrong name wrongs pork industry

The little piggy went where?
Eschewing going to market, staying home, having roast beef or none, this little piggy will make you sick, might even kill you.

This thought is what the pork industry is up in arms about. Calling the latest influenza outbreak  “swine flu” has pork farmers crying foul (a “fowl” nod to Tyson, which sells pork as well as poultry).

This latest flu virus has nothing whatsoever to do with eating pork or any porcine products. The disease is spread through human contact, not food consumption. It ain’t peanut butter making us sick this time, folks. The cause is coughing, sneezing people. They spread the Influenza A (H1N1) virus.

Pork producers, including the US’s über ovine supplier, Smithfield Foods and Brazil’s JBS, which owns Swift, are issuing press releases saying their meats are safe faster than the racing piglets at the county fair. The meat industry blogs are bristling with posts about the damage this will do to pig producers everywhere. And rightly so. Frightened people, fanned by the alarming media coverage that is going on 24/7, can’t be counted on to think in a calm logical ways.

Facebook has some 100 group pages dedicated to “swine flu” where one can read posts like, “MmMmM BACON. & all you have to deal with is a little fever nausea and diarrhea and a chance of death but other than that your cool!”

Enter Homeland Security and the USDA

In response, the US Department of Homeland Security has announced that the name of the virus will be changed to the “Influenza A (H1N1) virus.” If you are a news nerd (like me), you’ve noticed (cue the tapes, guys) that Janet Napolitano, Homeland Security secretary, has taken to referring to this strain and its outbreak as H1N1. The US Department of Agriculture secretary Tom Vilsack has also recommended the name be changed to eliminate public confusion and to accurately characterize the flu virus as being transmitted human to human.

Never kiss a pig
The problem, the agencies point out is that the name “swine flu” implies that the source of the illness is pigs. However, this new variant of H1N1 influenza, they point out, has not been identified in any North American swine. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, which still has a link called Swine Flu on its Web site, reports that it has found no evidence to indicate that any of the reported illnesses have come as a result of contact with pigs.

The damage begins
Several countries, among them Russia, Ukraine, China, Thailand, and the United Arab Emirates, have already halted or restricted the import of US pork products; Russia has, in fact, restricted all US meat products, including beef and poultry. (Fortunately, Japan, the #1 buyer of US pork products, has not.)

In reaction, the Office of the US Trade Representative stated that banning US pork is uncalled for and might create further trade challenges (a little diplomatic raise of the eyebrow never hurts). Vilsack said at a news conference that he is concerned that misunderstandings could have a negative impact on US farmers who supply pork products to people around the world. He emphasized that US pork herds are sound and that consumers everywhere need to know that US pork products are safe.

No happy ending
All these governmental officials are correct in their assessments, of course. But Influenza A (H1N1) virus is a real mouthful. (No pun intended.) Can’t imagine Katie Couric breezing through multiple mentions of this new and improved (albeit more cumbersome) name. And for all of us bloggers out here in etherland, typing Influenza A (H1N1) virus is no picnic either.

Damage control on this issue, I’m afraid, has come too late. But I, for one, am serving stuffed pork chops for supper.

Nuts to this (list of recalled foods)

OK, that last peanut thing was bad enough. In fact, it was very bad. Now, in case you haven’t checked the news within the last day or so, it’s pistachio nuts. The little puppies, at least those distributed by the California processor Setton Farms (a subsidiary of New York-based Setton International Foods), are being voluntarily recalled by the company nationwide because of a possible Salmonella contamination. Not just a couple of lots, mind you, but Setton’s entire 2008 crop is being yanked. (The company is the nation’s second-largest pistachio provider and its 2008 crop consisted of 55 million pounds.)

Hah, you think, don’t have any in the house. That’s what you think. Just as with peanuts (including those produced by that paragon of corporate responsibility, the now-thankfully defunct Peanut Corporation of America), pistachios are added to the cauldrons at the factories of many of our monster food manufacturers, including (so far) Kraft Foods. Have any Kraft products in the house? Mega-grocery-chain, Kroger, is recalling pistachios it sold in 31 states. Shop at Krogers?

And we’ve only just begun. Because Setton shipped bags of nuts weighing up to 2,000 pounds to 36 wholesalers across the country, it will take weeks to figure out how many products could be affected, according to Jeff Farrar, chief of the Food and Drug Branch of the California Department of Public Health.

The US Food and Drug Administration, saying it’s ahead of the curve in this case, is warning us to not eat any food products containing pistachios but to not throw the products out. (Why we shouldn’t pitch them the administration does not say.) The agency has set up a Web site to answer consumers’ concerns and/or to report illness. As of this writing, two people have contacted the FDA citing gastrointestinal illness, but a link to pistachios has not been confirmed.

And all of us befuddled folks out here in Consumerland, how are we to know which products contain pistachios? So far, the list names such products as baked goods, including cookie doughs, confectioneries, flavorings, and ice-cream. Roasting is supposed to kill the Salmonella bacteria, but cross-contamination from raw pistachios during the roasting process can occur (or, a la Peanut Corporation of America, the contamination can come from far less pleasant sources, such as rat feces).

To its credit, Setton has closed its plant until the lab results are in. And to Kraft’s credit, it was that company that notified the FDA last week that routine product testing had detected Salmonella in its roasted pistachios. It and Georgia Nut Company recalled their Back to Nature Nantucket Blend trail mix a day after the contamination was detected. Kraft has since recalled its Planters products that contain pistachio nuts as well.

If you need a refresher before you venture into your supermarket, pantry, and/or refrigerator, Salmonella can cause serious and sometimes fatal infections in young children, frail or elderly people, and others with weakened immune systems.

In the sense that no one has been proven to have fallen ill because of this particular food recall, I guess the FDA is ahead of the curve. But to continue the metaphor, it and we as a nation continue to drop the ball as far as food safety is concerned. Policing all of the thousands of food makers (whether they grow or raise the foodstuff or make other food products with it) is an impossible task in a nation the size of ours. Michael Pollen, author of In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto, and Marion Nestle, professor and chair of the Department of Nutrition and Food Studies at NYU, to name a few concerned people, are correct. We need to buy locally.

The USDA’s gone COOL

A COOL government agency?  Well, kind of.  They’re acronym-ing it up over at the Department of Agriculture.  You know, the folks in Washington who are in charge of the safety of our food.

COOL stands for “country of origin labeling”: a food labeling requirement that — the government (the USDA and the Congress in this case) being slower than, well, the arrival of one’s tax refund check — has been explored, discussed, paneled, and legislated upon since the Jazz Age.

It started way back with the passage of the Tariff Act of 1930 which says “every article of foreign origin … imported into the United States shall be marked in a conspicuous place … to indicate to an ultimate purchaser in the United States the English name of the country of origin of the article.” However, the Bureau of Customs & Border Protection has long exempted many imported food products from the country-of-origin marking requirement.

Trying for a modicum of reform (a mere 70 years later, gotta love our Washington watchdogs) the 2002 Farm Bill tried to establish mandatory country of origin labeling for beef, lamb, pork, fish, peanuts, and “perishable agricultural commodities” or “covered commodities.” Under the bill, producers were let off the hook and it was the retailers who became responsible for informing consumers where food was produced.

The 2002 bill mandated the country of origin must be stated whether the product is domestic or imported.  If the country of origin is stated on the label, the retailer’s obligation for that product was met.  If it’s not on the label (or if there is no label), the retailer must display country of origin information on a placard or sign.

(So that’s why sometimes there’s a sign in the supermarket says “Mexican oranges” and right next to it is a bin of some exotic food — goji berries, the latest foodie food — that has no sign at all. It’s the feds.)

The bill further directed the USDA to issue guidelines for voluntary country-of-origin labeling by 2002 and to issue regulations to implement the requirement on a mandatory basis by 2004.

Some people in the food industry began to get their undies in a twit about this labeling thing.  Domestic producers of covered commodities tended to support COOL but many others opposed it.  Opponents obtained legislative relief with the 2004 Consolidated Appropriations Act.

The act delayed the deadline for mandatory COOL to 2006 for all covered commodities except wild and farm-raised fish and shellfish.  For fish and shellfish, the deadline remained 2004.

(Note to Congress:  Ever put off taking out the garbage?  It tends to stink up the place.)

There have been numerous efforts in Congress since then to modify COOL laws, repeal them, and/or substitute a voluntary labeling program, none of which came to fruition (pun intended).  Despite, or maybe because of the uncertainty about the future of mandatory COOL, USDA soldiered on and published an “interim final rule” in 2004.

(Note to self:  What the heck is an interim final rule anyway?  Our government at its finest, I guess.)

Here’s what the USDA ruled in 2004:  Mandatory COOL labeling applied only to fish and shellfish.  It remained voluntary for other covered commodities. It covered food retailers but excluded butcher shops and fish markets, as well as food service establishments, such as restaurants, lunchrooms, cafeterias, and food stands.

Processed food items were already exempted from COOL under the 2002 Farm Bill. The interim final rule included a lengthy definition of “processed food item.”  For example (Are you expecting government-speak?  Well, you’re correct):  Items derived from a covered commodity that have undergone a physical or chemical change (such as cooking, curing, or smoking) or that have been combined with other covered commodities or other substantive food components (e.g., chocolate, breading, tomato sauce) are excluded from COOL labeling.

(Another note to self:  Geez, only seafood?  How did this clear things up?)

The glacial governmental process has moved up to 2009 (hallelujah). It seems we have a final COOL rule.  It became effective on March 16, 2009.

Here are a few of its points: The final rule covers muscle cuts and ground beef, lamb, chicken, goat and pork; wild and farm-raised fish and shellfish; perishable agricultural commodities (specifically fresh and frozen fruits and vegetables); macadamia nuts; pecans; ginseng; and peanuts.

Commodities covered under COOL must be labeled by retailers to indicate its country of origin. For fish and shellfish, the method of production for both wild and farm-raised varieties must be specified. Commodities are excluded from mandatory COOL if the commodity is an ingredient in a processed food item. The definition of a processed food remained the same tangled mess — the physical and chemical change blather (see above).  And,  food service establishments remain exempt.

What?  Food service is still exempt?  And the worrisome wiggle room with respect to processed foods remains?

Now, all this COOL labeling took place during the Bush administration, which was many things but cool was not one of them.  What are the Obamans doing?  The brand new Secretary of Agriculture, Tom Vilsack, sent a letter out to food industry representatives regarding the final COOL rule, such as it is, urging voluntary labeling, where mandatory is not specified.  If the industry doesn’t comply, Vilsak threatened to reopen the whole rulemaking mess, er, process.

(Note to Sec. Vilsack:  Don’t hold your breath, Tom.)

When is final final?  When is safe safe?  With the government (and importantly our food supply) it seems never.

And I thought being cool just meant wearing sunglasses indoors.

Afraid of your food? You should be.

Consider: E. coli in green onions, spinach, and ground beef; melamine in infant formula and powdered milk; and salmonella in peanut butter and the myriad of other food products peanuts are added to.

What’s next — steel shavings in apple pie?  America’s food-safety net isn’t a net at all.  It’s a large-holed sieve that allows dangerous, sometimes fatal, contaminants to enter our food supply. The Chinese, in an ironic turn of events, have banned the importation of American products containing peanuts. (Cautionary aside, to whomever needs cautioning: The Chinese punish food-safety offenses with hanging.)

Who’s in charge of our food anyway?  The answer reveals a chink in our food armor.  Two huge governmental agencies, the US Department of Agriculture (USDA) and the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA), split the duties of overseeing what happens at our food producers’ facilities. The USDA monitors meat, poultry, and some egg products, while the FDA is in charge of most other foods.

Here’s another little — you should pardon the expression — tasty tidbit:  The FDA gets about 20% of the food-safety budget to protect some 80% of the food supply and, as a result, it has only about one-tenth the number of inspectors that the USDA does. So, under the current US food-safety system, cheese pizza gets far fewer inspections than pepperoni pizza does.  The current peanut butter recall is another example of our leaking sieve of a system. The last time an FDA inspector looked at the Peanut Corporation of America’s Blakely, Georgia, plant was about eight years ago. And if ever a company needed watching, it’s PCA, which knowingly sold contaminated products.

Another problem is that the FDA is charged with overseeing both food and drugs, and a vast majority of time and money it spends is directed at drug safety, and rightly so.  But I feel a dope-slap moment of insight coming on … maybe we should put the FDA in charge of drugs only and the USDA in charge of food? Duh.

Bureaucracies, however, are really, really averse to change. Long-time employees dig in their heels. “But we’ve always done it that way,” is the prime directive. Shoulder-shrugging of the, “it’s not our problem,” variety are all too common. Governing agencies have entrenched rules and regulations, protocols and procedures.  The inability to say, “We screwed up,” is rampant. (Fortunately, our new President is able to fess up to a screw-up.)

Territoriality is the survival concept of all civil servants. (Those of you who watched SEC officials squirm under questioning by members of congress wanting to know why the that agency didn’t shut down Bernie Madoff and his sinister too-good-to-be-true Ponzi scheme sooner know what I mean.)

Furthermore, government entities are notoriously unable or unwilling to talk to one another. (The two houses of Congress can’t even agree on a stimulus package to save our faltering economy.)  It’s time to stop the non-communication.

We need to have a single food inspection system where pizza is pizza no matter its toppings. There needs to be one set of rules, one agency. We need to get rid of our failing, fragmented regulatory system, which has the lives of American citizens in its hands, and replace it  with one agency that is generously funded.  One that puts the consumer, not its own self-interest, first. Perhaps then the only three-eyed fish around will be Blinky on The Simpsons.

Handbaskets and shopping baskets full of private-label products

We’re collectively going on a diet dictated not by well-meant New Year’s Resolutions, groaning bathroom scales, or climbing cholesterol counts, but by our wallets. According to a report released by justfood.com (a UK outfit that holds forth on all things, you guessed it, food), consumers have a “recessionary mindset” with respect to our food-purchasing choices.

The people in the marketing and advertising departments at large and not-so-large food manufacturers can whiteboard and teleconference about brand loyalty all they want; we out here in the real world are convinced that things are going to you-know-where in a handbasket and that we’d better start cutting back.

Just ask General Motors. Or Microsoft. But if Rick Wagoner (recently famous for taking a private jet to our nation’s capital to ask Congress for a multibillion-dollar bail out for his car-making company) or the folks in Redmond, Washington, (Bill Gates won’t be available, having — presciently, perhaps? — pulled back last year from overseeing the everyday operations of his PC monolith) decline to take your call, ask owners of the small businesses you patronize. Try your dry cleaner or the guy at the local taco joint. They’ll tell you, just as the Blue Chippers will, that sales are down. People are not buying much of anything — cars, computers, tacos — it doesn’t matter. We’ve snapped our wallets shut.

We’re scared as you-know-what (same place as you-know-where, see above) but haven’t reached the “not going to take it anymore” stage. (Perhaps our new President can lead the nation to that solution-producing mindset, but that’s a different blog post.)

We’ve watched banks and brokerages collapse, have IRAs now worth barely a pittance, seen foreclosure signs on way too many (and hopefully not our own) houses. We can’t get loans to replace our aging automobiles. The failures of WaMu and Lehman Brothers are big-time stuff. Iceland — the country, for crying out loud — is bankrupt.

Nonetheless, people have to eat. And so, when it comes to actual food choices, we consumers have starting clipping coupons. More and more we’re opting for private- and store-branded goods.

The justfood.com report — which you can visit and see a “preview” of but will have to plunk down a hefty £2,110 (almost $3,000 American) to actually download and read — has a name for the uptick in private-label buying with respect to the food biz: “marketing fatigue.” Being short of both British Pounds and American Dollars, I am limited to perusing the article preview. Here’s a quote:

Marketing fatigue potentially enhances the appeal and relevance of private label brands, especially as advertising is a key defense tactic for famous brands. Across the 15 countries surveyed by Datamonitor in August 2008, 47% of respondents ’strongly agreed’ with the statement, “there is too much advertising today.”

While we may agree that there is too much advertising (and too much inane advertising, I might add), I don’t think this is why we’re all throwing the Great Value brand milk and dog food in our shopping carts at Wal-Mart. It’s not because we’re tired of seeing those mind-numbingly stupid talking (and singing and dancing) California cows on TV, the latest dude or dudette asking us if we’ve “got milk” in the pages of our Newsweek magazine, or the smug looking cat on cans of Fancy Feast that stare out at you from the shelves in pet-food aisle at the supermarket.

We’re not suffering from marketing fatigue from too many ads. We’re genuinely frightened and one of the few ways we can cope with this handbasket mindset is to buy products that cost less. The name-brand makers (and analysts who hold forth on the bad bottom lines of said food makers) are just going to have to hunker down and, like the rest of us, ride this thing out. Fifty-five cents off a box of Tide just isn’t enough.

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