Absent from the sensationalized reporting, however, has been that the current food movement started with the hippies in the Sixties. Ditto the contemporary interest in yoga and meditation and other Eastern meditative arts. So yes, the counterculture may have had its excesses and walked down more than one counterproductive blind alley–although I certainly wouldn’t consider rock & roll one of them. But hippies also had their moments of genius. Moments of understanding at a fundamental level that plastic fantastic corporate America was a big nightmare of a bust.

The mainstream news also likes to talk about how the hippies sold out and turned into stock traders and such. Perhaps a few. Perhaps many even, maybe. But certainly not all. And not me and many others I know. We might have taken off our long skirts and trimmed our hair a bit so we could earn a living…but we really never returned. We’ve carried the banner all these years. We’re about local. About community. About most anything that frees us from the grip of mind-numbing corporate control–which not only robs us of our money and health, but also renders our lives so hideously boring that even television seems like a relief.

So there. There’s my soapbox hippie stuff. I use the hippie cook moniker as an homage to the Sixties and what was great and good about the counterculture. All that business of relying less on services and products that turn us into passive consumers and more on one’s own actively engaged initiative. In terms of food, for me, that’s meant cooking from scratch and growing my own garden–clearly activities that have offered up the friendly gifts of creativity, empowerment, and joy.

So, how sunny are those eggs on the breakfast table? Or in the really cheap breakfast you found at your neighborhood restaurant? Yes indeed. Vast is the difference between the way animals are treated in family operations than on factory farms.

Picture mama pigs flat on their backs. Held down and immovable by straps across their bellies so that piglets can suckle. Arranged 6 at a time on slanted stainless steel machines that revolve slowly to allow for maximum feeding and ultimately, hog production.

That visual image is courtesy of Our Daily Bread, a European documentary that reveals disturbing images of factory farming. (It’s interesting to compare the access to industrialized farming that European filmmakers have to that available to their counterparts in the US. Case in point: In Food, Inc. filming crews simply were not permitted to capture images of much of what goes on. For another particularly compelling glimpse into factory farming, see We Feed the World, another European documentary.)

Then there are our dairy cows in conventional operations: bossies who spend their days standing trapped in barns, the full weight of their 1200-pound bulk planted  on unyielding cement floors.

And our lady hens–living out shadow existences, each bird in a space no larger than a laptop.  (The article I wrote for E Mag about hens is pasted at the end of this post.)

The good news, of course, is that we can vote against this abuse of innocent creatures with our food dollars. Yes, we’ll pay more, but also yes, perhaps we can eat a little less of these items and more highly affordable whole grains and legumes to offset the cost.

Then again, we can grow our own like so many in The Peoples Republic of Portland do (just saw this on a bumper sticker yesterday). In two weeks is the 6th annual Tour de Coops, presented by Growing Gardens, an organization that builds gardens for low income people and mentors them for their first several years of growing their own. Tour de Coops. Eldie and I have our $10 passes, complete with a map and bike routes.

Patrick who lives three doors down can’t join us, but here’s an email he sent on his new girly girls and divorcing his chem lawn company:

“I bought the two little chickies about two months ago, and they are now living outside in their little coop in the backyard.  So stay tuned for fresh eggs in the coming months.  I got hooked on the fresh eggs from the Farmer’s Market, but at $6/dozen I decided to try to get some chickens of my own! Hopefully in September we should have some eggs.  You’d be proud though — because these little girls eat everything in sight, our yard has become 100% ORGANIC … no icky fertilizers or plant foods … so, I guess there is hope for us after all??  ”

Or we could save up and slip into a time warp one of the most marvelous vacation spots I’ve heard of lately: Mar Vista in Mendocino County. Carola stayed there last March with her husband, Allen. ~~Thanks, Carola, for all your photos. They make this posting–and how great to have a husband that’s into cooking and cruising.

Picture sunny yellow cottages. Picture white cluck-cluck hens with bright red combs in their very own hutches and access to a sloping green hill where they hunt and peck.

****************

Jean’s E Mag article: Animal-Friendly Husbandry Displacing Industrialized Laying Hen Operations

Over easy and whisked into omelets, eggs delight many. But the hens that laid the eggs are another subject. Visit 95 percent of the egg operations in the United States today, and you’ll find as many as a quarter million hens crammed into batteries of cages stacked ten rows high—quarters so tight they cannot even flap their wings.

“The modern hen lays an egg on around 320 days each year, and during the two hours surrounding that process, she is severely frustrated,” Ian Duncan says, expert on laying hens and emeritus professor in the department of animal and poultry science at the University of Guelph, Canada, who holds a university chair in animal welfare. “That seems unacceptable to me.”

Duncan also notes that without perches, the chickens do not sleep well at night, and because they cannot get exercise, they develop weak bones akin to osteoporosis. That said at least with the growing minority of producers, “the trend seems to be getting the birds onto the floor of the barns and even outside,” Duncan observes.

“This new ethic is conservative, not radical,” says Bernard Rollin, PhD, faculty in the departments of philosophy, animal sciences, and biomedical sciences at Colorado State University. “It is a return to the roughly fair contract those who have husbanded animals for virtually all of human history have had with animals—that of taking great pains to put one’s animals into the best possible environment one could find to meet their physical and psychological natures.”

Rollin’s point is well taken. No less a mainstream organization than the Humane Society of the United States formally began a campaign to raise awareness about conditions related to confined farm animals in 2005. By the end of 2006, HSUS had drawn sufficient public attention to the wretched plight of laying hens to help change the egg-purchasing policies of several large companies including Ben and Jerry’s.

“We will be phasing over to the good eggs over the next four years,” says Sean Greenwood, spokesman for the ice cream company that markets itself as socially conscious. “We’re not chicken experts and learned about all this from the Humane Society. But we are a company that believes in being fair to animals.”

“We looked at major buyers and worked with them to stop buying the most abusive types of eggs that are available,” says Paul Shapiro, director of the Humane Society’s Factor Farm Campaign. “Ben and Jerry’s is a huge company, and they deserve credit for improving the welfare for hens who are laying eggs for their ice creams.”

But Shapiro cautions against assuming that all is well. “Consumers need to realize that cage free eggs don’t necessarily mean cruelty-free,” he adds. “That said hens free from the nightmare of battery cages are leading much better lives, so this is a serious improvement that ought to be applauded. There is significantly is less suffering involved.”

Hens living in cage free operations, as John Brunnquell, president of Egg Innovations notes, “are free to move around the barn, interact with peers, and enjoy natural sunlight,” but they do not get outside. That’s because we, the consumers, still have not indicated we will support full lives for the hens that give us our eggs.

“We want to expand significantly the number of people in this market so this is a way to produce affordable cage free eggs,” explains Brunnquell. “On the other hand, eggs that are labeled organic by definition must come from hens that are free roaming with access to the outside.”

“The organic shoppers have said they are willing to pay the price for the more expensive outside access, but the cage free shopper hasn’t. So we don’t want to lose those people by pricing product out of their range.”

Brunnquell grew up on a small family egg farm in Wisconsin that used cages, but after earning a masters degree in poultry science, he decided to move his operation to 100 percent cage free, complete with third party audits to ensure full compliance. “Back then, I could articulate all the arguments for cages, but at the end of the day when I walked into a poultry barn, I evolved a stronger feeling that cage free was a correct way to go.”

The third party audits Brunnquell uses from Humane Farm Animal Care are in lieu of formal federal or state regulation protecting animals in confined farming operations. According to Rollin, that’s because the agricultural industry has pressured for a laissez faire approach to regulation.

“These big companies are kingdoms unto themselves and aren’t used to the oversight that animal research enjoys in university settings,” Rollin says. “They account only to their stock holders, so many owners simply say they will just move to Asia if US regulators clamp down.”

The US bureaucracy might have lagged, but as Shapiro sees it consumers are coming around. “Since we started our campaign in 2005, we’ve praised a number of companies that now have switched over to cage free eggs: Ben and Jerry’s, AOL, Google, the Bon Appetit Management Company that services more than 70 universities, and, of course, natural food purveyors Wild Oats Natural Marketplace, and Whole Foods Market.”

To expand this net, Shapiro suggests people “use their power as consumers, ask grocery store managers to stop selling cage eggs all together, and talk with the directors of dinning halls at their companies, schools, and hospitals.”

Duncan agrees that consumers can change practices, but he thinks education is critical. “I think it’s got to be a labeling scheme with compulsory photographs showing quite clearly how the hens that produced the eggs are kept.”

Compulsory photographs on cartons of eggs? Consumers aware of how the animals who provide the product they purchase spend their lives? The concept might sound extreme, but surely the hens that are laying the eggs would flap their wings in approval—if only they could.