The unofficial nickname of Connecticut is “The Nutmeg State.” This stems from a story dating back to the mid-1800’s, whereby a southerner called foul that his order of nutmegs were made of wood – and they do look similar. One thought is that shrewd Yankee traders were cheating by carving wooden nutmegs to pad out a sale and thus increase profit at the expense of the consumer, but another assumption is that the ignorant southerner didn’t know nutmegs had to be grated, and tried to eat them like a walnut.
Either way, the practice of substituting one food – or non-food – substance for another has probably been around since the dawn of man. Egyptians did it. Romans complained about it. And all the way up until Victorian England, food adulteration could kill you.
That’s the subject in Swindled: The Dark History of Food Fraud, by Bee Wilson. The book
was far more interesting than I thought, chronicling the history of food cheats, such as substituting chicory or wood shavings for ground coffee, or adding alum to cheap bread to make it whiter. The medieval guild system helped keep staple foods clean, but England gave up the guilds earlier than Europe, and suffered more malnutrition for it. Poisonings and deaths were common, as bad food was often colored with copper and arsenic to make it prettier. Finally, the microscope helped discern without a doubt what was real and what wasn’t, starting the “pure food” campaign that continues today. It wasn’t until World War II’s shortages that people began to embrace modern chemical foods, and the decline of modern health can be clearly linked to it.
A similar book is Death in the Pot: The Impact of Food Poisoning on History, by Morton Satin. Satin, a retired expert in microbiology and food-borne illness, traces several turning points in history that were likely caused by accidental or deliberate food poisoning, from the Great Plague of Athens to the Salem Witch trials, right through modern day KGB tactics. Satin also reiterates Wilson on discussion of the “Poison Squads” of the early 20th century, human guinea pigs who consumed chemicals to see if they were safe to put into foods.
Perhaps the Granddaddy of the entire subject, dredged up in almost any conversation
on food safety and purity, is the novel The Jungle by Upton Sinclair, the seminal book from 1906 that sent such shock through America that the Pure Food and Drug Act followed just five months later. Sinclair, a socialist pushing for unions in the horrific meat-packing industry in Chicago, slipped inside the factories to investigate the situations for himself, and what he found was chilling, from rats mixed into the meat to allegedly men themselves that fell into the rendering vats. When President Roosevelt sent men to investigate, they, too, were appalled that it was true. While he didn’t bring many converts to socialism, he cleaned up the food supply as well as working conditions in the meat packing plants. As Sinclair said, “I aimed at the public’s heart, and by accident I hit it in the stomach.”
More modern – and thus frightening – is Eating Dangerously, by Michael Booth and Jennifer Brown, a balanced book which discusses modern food safety in the wake of so many deaths from salmonella, E coli O157, and other bacteria, that kill people, especially children and elderly, every year. Nothing makes you scrub your hands like reading about deadly germs, and, outside of undercooked meat or that dire warning to never eat your raw cookie dough, most of the deadliest food poisoning outbreaks have centered on produce that is eaten raw: lettuce, spinach, sprouts, cantaloupe, and peanuts. The authors acknowledge what farmers and the government already know: producers can’t wash every leaf of spinach adequately, even in the best scenario. Animals walk through fields. Birds poop in flight. Flies are everywhere. WASH YOUR PRODUCE. It grows in dirt. Wash it. The biggest problem with US Food Safety? Continuous cuts to the CDC, inspectors, and FDA, lawmakers afraid of industry lobbyists, and unclear departmental responsibilities. And the huge demand for out of season produce shipped from other countries, where growing practices aren’t as clean as the US.
It’s hard to separate sensationalism from fact when it comes to health. Today’s fact is tomorrow’s proven gimmick. Poisoned food, however, is a reality we live with each day, from undercooking our meat to leaving that mayonnaise sitting out, or the grim fact chickens are BORN positive for salmonella. Wash your food. Wash your counters. Wash your hands. Watch your food temperatures. Know what’s in your food – remember, cellulose can mean wood pulp, too. Still love raw cookie dough? Make it with Eggbeaters, which is pasteurized, and you won’t have to worry.




Let’s face it. Toddlers are adorable, but they’re a pain in the kneecaps when you have to keep getting up to chase them. Like an overcaffeinated octopus in a waterpark, they get into EVERYTHING. Once a baby starts to creep, your time to sit and relax evaporates. So what do you do to keep them busy long enough to check your email without having to hold them, yet manage to keep them from banging on the keyboard?
parked in front of a TV or – and I see this every day in one store or another – a cell phone. Babies and toddlers need to DO. They need to use their bodies – crawling and climbing and running for gross motor, and touching, poking, pulling, pushing to develop not only fine-motor skills, but tactile, sensory integration, mental mapping, visual-motor integration, social expectations, and spatial memory – things they cannot develop from passive observation of a flat screen.
than a cell phone or endless Dora. But the toys that ARE geared for actual learning are not usually found in stores but educational catalogs, and those are often overpriced because they expect a school system to pay for them –
genius. Give the kid all those things he wants to explore, but in one safe location: a real-life busy board. Phones, switches, calculators, all those forbidden things, right in reach, and no one yelling. Finding myself the unexpected guardian and caretaker of an infant and starting all over again, I wanted one of those. As she started to crawl, I built one, too. Wheels for spinning, latches, jingly keys (and old dog license tags), a push-on closet light, a light switch that turns on an actual LED, a small baking sheet for magnets (we use photos of relevant family and friends), interchangeable carabiners with a pacifier, a fun keychain, a small measuring tape that retracts, a mailbox flag that goes up and down, a brush for sensory input, Velcro dots for sticking pictures to (and they feel fun), a light-up keychain, numbers for counting and matching clothespins, an old TV remote, and most importantly – the springy door stoppers that go BOING when you whap them. Fastened to the wood, they make
a very satisfying sound. Another important item was a small grab bar fourteen inches off the ground. This allows the beginning stander and walker to hold on and pull, and feel secure while standing and playing. All this, on a 2 by 3 foot piece of plywood attached to the dining room wall. The only other thing we did was add three mirrored tiles at baby height on a different wall.


Cloning seems new, but it’s technically been around longer than man – identical twins can be considered clones, splitting a single fertilized egg into two or even four genetically identical individuals from that one egg. Modern cloning, wherein cells are taken from a living donor and a primitive cell is induced to become an organism traces back to just 1996, when Dolly the Sheep was cloned from a mammary cell of another sheep, the first time a body cell was used instead of a sex cell – an egg or sperm.
your pet, so that when it dies you can have an exact 



tter-preserved specimens every year, the chance of finding usable DNA grows ever closer. Both of these books present a balanced side to the argument. Of course we WANT to bring back mammoths. The question remains: should we?
family oriented, but the writing is not always the greatest, with occasional weak scripts and clichéd lines. Because each episode wraps up on its own, nothing can get too much meat to it.
San Francisco lends itself to many great film chases (such as the comedy 









