Omnivores in Deep Ellum

Different places all have their own particular vices. For the Europeans, it is nicotine and cigarette smoking as far as I can tell. The midwest might be characterized by a (some might claim) excessive consumption of lactose, dairy, and grain at various stages of processing. For Texas, on the other hand, the vice as near as I can determine is salt and grease, considering the truly prodigious and often excessive consumption of meat in the Lone Star State. I went searching for the glorious carnality of barbecue and massive burgers that I remembered (and desperately craved after months in Minnesota), but this time with a skeptical eye, sharpened by Pollan and company.

Stop One: Lockhart Barbecue

On the corner of Davis and Bishop, in a neighborhood experiencing gentrification so explosive as to border on violent, Lockhart was full to the gills with white guys in pressed shirts, shades, and slicked hair. Despite our presence in a majority minority area, the patrons of Oak Cliff’s preeminent BBQ joint where almost all white. This can surely be partially explained by the price of our dinner. My mother and I were by ourselves for the evening, and we feasted on three quarters of a pound of pork ribs, half a pound of brisket, and sides of bacon smoked green beans and mac & cheese. The bill was forty dollars and change. Not a cheap meal. The bill began to erode my naive sensibilities about this food I remembered so clearly. This egalitarian experience that I thought every Texan could relate and own as something we do to was actually manned by economic gatekeepers of price and scarcity, not to mention the capital requirements of massive cast iron smokers (and subsequent profits they demand). Some discrete, but noticeable confederate iconography embedded in the tables didn't help this newfound perception of exclusivity. The brisket was still damn good, despite the price tag.






Stop 2: Twisted Root Burger Company
Having been economically disillusioned in my own backyard, I would like to talk about two other competing forces that we find ourselves caught in the vice of: taste and quantity. Corn’s promiscuity with humans, petrol, and capitalism (thanks, Michael and Robin) has placed us in the unique position of making ever more food of lesser quality that doesn't taste as good (thanks for nothing, USDA). Not to put too fine a point on it, but the richest country in the world is making more bad food than we can eat, with no economic forces to drag supply back to earth (thanks for nothing, lots and lots of lobbyists). I always assumed that these two issues were linked, and also connected to health. If our food is better and we eat a little less of it, we will be healthier. Moreover, we know that making healthier food is more expensive, that the law of demand says that the more expensive something is the less people want it, and so it seems that healthier food would lead to less food being made, and presumable consumed.

As a rule, Texans are seldom environmentalists, and so I assumed that I would probably be eating industrial beef on my expedition to Deep Ellum. Twisted Root confounded my expectations, however. At the line to order, there is a television providing a charming mini documentary about the making of your burger, including this nugget of information. If you look closely, it says that all of their beef is fed by grass and is able to *gasp* actually graze like a normal cow. There is evidence to suggest that animals raised in this way are better for us because they have a more varied and natural diet. You can roll your eyes all you want, but I am willing to say that the piece of cow I had in Deep Ellum last Wednesday is healthier than a Big Mac, if only marginally.




At the very least, it was more expensive to grow and manufacture into a meal for my consumption. So economics say that there should be less of it, and that I should be (perhaps) physiologically better off. This was not in line with my experience at all. The place was packed, illustrating virulent (if niche) demand for high quality sourced meat. Moreover, check out this portion.
A small meal, this is not. Moreover, there is seemingly no concern for human health past the benefits of better meat in the ethos of the restaurant. You know this because they tell you!

My links between amount/portions (I suspect I went wrong in conflating these two), health, and cost have all evaporated! The fine folks at Twisted Root know that I like good tasting meat, and have provided it in copious amounts, irrespective of my health, my wallet obliging them the whole way. This is interesting on a couple of levels. Even if we can more ethically and sustainably source our food, is the problem of supersizing (portions and waistlines) going to go away, or do we have enough discretionary income to pay the higher cost and keep eating more and more? I certainly wouldn't put it past us. I am also not sure what makes good economic sense at this point. The Twisted Root folks did everything we could ask of them (providing a service we want and will pay for/ that is more ethically sourced than usual), and it still is not good for me. A quest for health and human wellbeing  can't just consider the economics and ethics of our food. There are forces deeper than markets at work here.