What could be better for November 26th than Guy Hand’s six-minute discourse on what we love most about Thanksgiving, food?
Idaho good-old-boy Guy Hand doesn’t say much about Idaho mashed potatoes and turkey. He has a mouthful of things to say about the pungent Mediterranean lettuce known as arugula. Even if his tongue twists around the word so that he continually mispronounces it while some of his interviewees pronounce it correctly, he knows what he’s talking about. No red-meat-eating, pickup-truck-driving, barn-owl-loving Gem Stater would trade his store-bought plastic-wrapped iceberg lettuce for a fancy-schmancy bitter Italian plant whose name he can’t pronounce. For that matter, Hand mispronounces the word “restaurateur”!
In the Pacific Northwest you can get away with pronouncing Rush Limbaugh as “God.” Which makes Hand’s piece funnier than a barrel of Sarah Palins scarfing brie and chablis at the Poetry Society of Boise. Hand handily edits his ruminations — chewing his cud — into a tasty concoction that may be closer to a blue-plate special than a foodies’ feast. But there’s enough here to please both Volvo-driving, Trader-Joe’s-going, garbanzo-bean-munching vegans and Wal-Mart-loving, Jim-Beam-swilling, Glock-pistol-packing carnivores.
Comments for The Arugula Wars: Food as partisan politics
This piece belongs to the series "Northwest Food News & Edible Idaho"
Produced by Guy Hand
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James Reiss
Posted on November 08, 2009 at 12:21 PM | Permalink
Food Wars
What could be better for November 26th than Guy Hand’s six-minute discourse on what we love most about Thanksgiving, food?
Idaho good-old-boy Guy Hand doesn’t say much about Idaho mashed potatoes and turkey. He has a mouthful of things to say about the pungent Mediterranean lettuce known as arugula. Even if his tongue twists around the word so that he continually mispronounces it while some of his interviewees pronounce it correctly, he knows what he’s talking about. No red-meat-eating, pickup-truck-driving, barn-owl-loving Gem Stater would trade his store-bought plastic-wrapped iceberg lettuce for a fancy-schmancy bitter Italian plant whose name he can’t pronounce. For that matter, Hand mispronounces the word “restaurateur”!
In the Pacific Northwest you can get away with pronouncing Rush Limbaugh as “God.” Which makes Hand’s piece funnier than a barrel of Sarah Palins scarfing brie and chablis at the Poetry Society of Boise. Hand handily edits his ruminations — chewing his cud — into a tasty concoction that may be closer to a blue-plate special than a foodies’ feast. But there’s enough here to please both Volvo-driving, Trader-Joe’s-going, garbanzo-bean-munching vegans and Wal-Mart-loving, Jim-Beam-swilling, Glock-pistol-packing carnivores.
Bon appetit!