text:
Tag: economic collapse
This is beginning to look like my Mother's siege larder.
Another day on the stove, processing, stirring, sieving, tasting, bottling and so forth. Obviously not all of the stores in the photo were made this week – in fact some of them were made three years ago, but ignoring all advice from the recipe books we've found that chutneys, pickles and ketchups – provided they're properly sealed and sterilized – will go on improving for years. The only proviso is that if you're planning on keeping them that long you need to use Kilner type jars with rubber seals or acid resistant Ball types. Metal lidded pickles often evaporate or deteriorate and the lids will even rust through occasionally. The mugwort, collected in 2019, is said to provoke lucid dreams. My dreams are so surreal and occasionally scary that I've never thought greater lucidity would be much of an improvement.
The flat is full of spice and cider vinegar smells as I make 3 litres of tomato ketchup, and while I take a break to write this, Madame is cooking a batch of ratatouille. Against all the odds we seem to coexist peacefully enough in the kitchen as long as we don't attempt to share the stove.
So why the urge to preserve? Well, part of it I'm sure is an atavistic re-enactment of childhood. My Mother and Grandmother had both lived through the hardship of two world wars and Madame's Grandmother also was a gardener and a good cook. My grandparents' smallholding in the Chilterns was as self sufficient as it was possible to be, and one of my earliest memories is of being with my sister, raking the hay into stooks on one of the fields. The rake was probably twice as tall as me!
But apart from that, after two years of lockdown shortages and in the midst of a massive cost of living crisis there's every reason to do all we can to grow, prepare and store as much food as possible because it seems obvious that no help will ever come from the present government. Then again we also love cooking for ourselves, our family and friends too, and slow food, locally and organically produced isn't some kind of middle class affectation, it's the way we need to go. The present system of food production and distribution is simply unsustainable without further damaging the earth, her climate and biodiversity. Local and sustainable is a potential lifesaver and yes, we'll need to embrace a rather different lifestyle but what's to say it might not be better, richer and more fulfilling for a far greater proportion of our population.
That said, it's pretty relentless hard work even being a part time peasant, but against all the odds we've had a good year on the allotment and we've harvested a bit more of most of our regular crops in spite of the drought. I took the photograph of these dying Harts Tongue ferns in a friend's garden – I don't think I've ever seen a sight like this before. It doesn't take a genius to see that these extreme weather events will have a huge effect on food crops and therefore prices in general. Do we really want to live in a society where a few people live in utter luxury while many others are struggling to feed their children. I went to a supermarket earlier this week to get some eggs. We try to buy organic and free range eggs but when I looked at the price I saw that they were charging £6.00 a dozen for them. That's frightening – so frightening I didn't buy any.
The last 7 days have been truly odd. Last Thursday we went up to Birmingham to celebrate Madame's birthday with our son and his partner; but first the car broke down and then there was a rail strike (which we completely support by the way. My father was a railwayman who spent his whole working life in fear of redundancy), and so we took the bus.
I love Birmingham but the bus station in Digbeth gives a pretty awful impression of the city. The whole area looks run down and ready for demolition in spite of a multitude of small businesses from car repairs to import export firms and money transfer shops. Exactly the kind of businesses you usually find occupying the lock-ups under railway arches, and in spite of the bleak surroundings they seemed to be getting by.
The buses were running late due to holiday traffic on the motorway and so we were able to see an entirely different side of the Second City away from the more glamorous centre. Fifteen years ago the centre of Birmingham had a very different feel; self confident, almost brash, with plenty of big-name stores. Now it's different. There are all the usual signs of economic stress with empty shops in many of the principal shopping streets- even the John Lewis store has departed the Bullring. The Museum and Art Gallery, however, still has a radical agenda that makes it such a joy to visit. Where else in Britain would you see exhibitions devoted to Trades Union activism, Black Lives Matter, and even raves and club life in the 70's. Industry is celebrated, not least by remembering the small workshops that sprang up everywhere- servicing larger industries like the now defunct car manufacturers. You get the feeling that by standing firm and facing down its undeniably racist episodes the city has begun to come to terms with the past. There's an unapologetic multicultural community that doesn't feel the need to tread carefully. The city centre gets rebuilt every decade – so there's still money somewhere – and the Clean Air Zone along with decent public transport including trams to Wolverhampton, suggest that the spirit of Joseph Chamberlain has not quite been monetized and sold off to the asset managers. The biggest problems, though, are not in the past but in the present.
Standing and chatting to some of the other passengers in the queue for the National Express bus home, you could see the stress eating into their lives. Plato said that the city is a work of art, but he was wealthy and well educated and I doubt if he ever queued up amongst hoi polloi to see what was troubling them. For most people the city is less a work of art and more a ransom note. I chatted for ages to a young woman, looking fantastic, who was going for four days to a holiday camp near Brean in Somerset with her daughter who never once looked up from her iPad and her mother who never stopped talking on her mobile. In ten minutes I had the bare bones of her life as she talked about her dad, now dead but a hero to her – and her ex partner Dave, who'd cleared off – and as she spoke I felt that her holiday was an expensive lottery ticket to a more hopeful future. Later, after the weary queue for the late Weston Super Mare bus had departed I sat down and overheard a young woman behind me talking about her unexpected pregnancy at the age of 14 and how she'd been completely unaware of it until the ambulance crew spotted what was happening. I prayed silently and without much faith, that things would look up for them both.
Then, on Saturday I had my biennial (actually a year late) endoscope, to check that some rogue cells in my oesophagus hadn't mutated into something really nasty and well, subject to an 8 week delay on the biopsies, it seems that everything is OK for now. However this regular brush with my own mortality through a very invasive procedure always has a profound effect on me. Luckily, after a day of being legally over the limit and confined to bed for most of it, on Sunday we went to see Carters Steam Fair which is always great fun. Being pretty ancient myself, it's fascinating to reconnect with the fairground rides that I remember from childhood. Steam and grease and old rock and roll records have a fatal attraction for me as I remember the Rogers family and the Hills who took it in turns to visit Page Park and Rodway Hill. Sadly the Naughty Nineties girls with the free for all boxing booth will never reveal themselves to me because the girls are now in their nineties and the local ruffians who once fancied their chances in the ring will all be dead. The grandchildren shared none of these mournful thoughts as they embraced the fairground joyfully and ate candyfloss between the dizzying rides.
During all this to and fro, I finished reading Carwen Graves' excellent new book "Welsh Food Stories". His previous book "Apples of Wales" is essential reading for anyone thinking of planting an orchard. The names of the varieties alone – Pig Snout and Goose Arse are just two – are a delight to the poet's ear! I long for the day when you don't need to be a food researcher to find fine local produce. At the moment, for many people, the future of food is like an unfinished building, because we know something about what the structure needs to be but hardly anything about what it will look and feel like. Books like "Welsh Food Stories" address the lack of a sustainable food culture by filling in some of the pictures.
Author Dave PolePosted on August 25, 2022 Categories About the Potwell Inn, Eudaimonia - flourishing, Food, Journeys, The Potwell Inn LibraryTags Birmingham, economic collapse, pickling and preserving, poverty, steam fair, Welsh food cultureLeave a comment on This is beginning to look like my Mother's siege larder.
Economics and the Prophets of Baal
The Littleton Wassail – January 2020
Bear with me on the title of this post, but the Old Testament contains a glorious collection of stories which I've pressed into service many times in the course of a long and (as far as the bishops are concerned) disreputable mission to make them comprehensible in a very different context. That's what writers do! we nick stories from all over the place and put them to service in a new way. I well remember hearing one of the team of writers who create scripts for "Eastenders" admit that they often took a storyline from the Bible, or the Greek myths, or indeed William Shakespeare. In fact; if your subject is adultery, incest and murder you need look no further than the Old Testament.
Having spent some of the week studying Basil Bunting's often obscure poem "Briggflatts" I feel obliged to say that I'm not using the story in an attempt to look better educated than I really am. I first heard it from the lips of Primitive Methodist lay preachers who delighted in nothing better than a bit of smiting, and this story of a battle between Elijah the Prophet and 450 of the prophets of the Canaanite God, Baal, was a positive gorefest as – having won a bet on whose god could light a bonfire with a lightning bolt – he slaughtered his opponents in a merciless display of "righteousness." The irony of the story and the reason for the fact that I'm pinning a post on it is that Baal was the God of fertility (crops mainly but probably a bit of the other thing as well), and also sun, rain and storm with a side hustle of war. The point of this meandering introduction is to explain that considering the probable fate of the earth if we don't get off our collective bottoms and do something dramatic; you might see this as an appropriate moment to reinvent Baal. After all his CV includes dominion over crops, sun, rain and war. Exactly the portfolio of challenges facing our next Prime Minister. Job done – next question please!
However half the fun of the story is that Elijah was so sure he was on the right side, he demanded that huge quantities of water should be poured on his pile of sticks before getting down to serious prayer. The Prophets of Baal, equally certain of their own God, danced around the bonfire, making their noisy invocations for what may well have been hours, before Elijah stood up with a swift one-liner to his God who obligingly sent the thunderbolt – that was meant to be Baal's gig! Cue smoke, flames and a lot of smiting until the 450 were all dead.
Or were they?
It seems to me that the Prophets of Baal might – in a spooky way – be the direct ancestors of our present generation of economists. It's perfectly fair to accuse them (and many of us) of worshipping the economy. We speak of it reverentially, as if it were some kind of supernatural entity which rewards its priesthood and smites its detractors. 'Who will ignite the economy?' we ask, and the economists who all speak the same arcane, almost liturgical language, step forward from the shadows and begin their little dance around the way we do things round here which is clearly breathing its last stertorous breaths; the so-called death rattle of the verities. As they circle the corpse they whirl and chant like Sufi dancers and sing of profit and loss, of efficiency and margins while others chalk obscure mathematical formulae around the victim. But the victim does not rise because economics has never learned to speak of fertility, of crops and sun and rain. Its reductive ideology has excluded almost every ethical and human consideration; aside from the costs and opportunities of war in pounds sterling. In the face of their failure they fall silent; their instruments slip from their bloodless hands; the rain washes their dismal formulae away.
Painted with the brush of objective science and rationality and enveloped in the mythology that there is no alternative, mainstream economics continues, with great effect, to cleanse our ecological crisis of its profoundly political origins and resolutions.
Adrienne Buller "The Value of a Whale. On the illusions of Green Capitalism" 2022 Manchester University Press, Page 51
It happens all the time, of course. The gods of unintended consequences have brought the economists low because they mistook their theological assumptions for science. While they snorted with derision at determinist philosophies, and knuckled their heads in disbelief at Marxism; they developed their very own iron laws. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. What these new prophets of Baal couldn't grasp was that by excluding any consideration of relationship; by refusing to include human thriving – which is itself a relational concept; and by failing to notice that the earth is not a resource but a finely balanced ecosystem – they were not worshipping Baal, but Moloch – the god of child sacrifice.
Author Dave PolePosted on August 9, 2022 August 10, 2022 Categories Eudaimonia - flourishing, The Potwell Inn LibraryTags capitalism, ecology, economic collapse, environmental catastropheLeave a comment on Economics and the Prophets of Baal
Warmup choir at hustings meetings are a PR disaster warns advisor.
And Goya brought the choristers of death along.
I have the local butchers to thank for this disturbing window display, and although there's no doubt they sell high welfare, delicious, grass fed lamb, I couldn't help thinking that it's probably recruiting any number of new vegans at the same time. The payback is probably a lot worse downstream. As a metaphor for the current state of politics in this country it also struck me as a perfect visual metaphor for a bunch of people who can't tell their arse from their elbow – since they no longer have either.
And somehow it also reflects my state of mind which hovers somewhere between melancholy and catatonia as the great ship of state careens on to the rocks, with the entire crew below decks drinking the bar dry. Having a drink or three with friends on Wednesday night we rehearsed all the usual arguments about how we got to where we are. None of us voted for it or even thought of it as anything but a terrible idea. We skated a wary circuit of the thin ice in which we wondered whether it was such a good idea to take the lofty road and avoid confronting the Orks and we listed the contributory factors that add up to a whole world of woe. The engine flooded, the rudder fell off; the Bursar sold off the lifeboats to his mates and we mostly adopted the pose of Rodin's thinker while the waves began to wash over the gunwales. Somehow the promises of a cruise to the Promised Land always felt slightly dodgy – the way the bloke in the ticket office quoted Plato as he promised endless upgrades and refused any eye contact. Buyers' remorse ought to be setting in but we all know that you can't make an ought into an is.
there is no path back to where we thought we were carefree and happy
Need I bore us all with the names of the contributors to this catastrophe? Of course not; "we have seen the enemy – it is us!" The one unalterable truth that we have been avoiding for fifty or more years is that notwithstanding all the warnings, statistics, data and tangible signs, there is no path back to where we thought we were carefree and happy. It's no use sitting like the Israelites in the desert – sulking about the price of onions – because not a single one of our leaders appears to have any kind of plan except more of the same; more inequality, more poverty, more suffering, more pollution, more chemicals and more enemies. Like the cuppers and leeches of the past they keep telling us that if the last application of the medicine didn't work we should repeat it until the patient recovers (vanishingly unlikely); or dies.
But there is an alternative, and that's to imagine what sort of a different future might give us back carefree and happy lives. Of course the choristers of death in the photo will scream that there is no alternative and that even to talk about such a thing is seditious. They will employ their legions of trolls to drown out thoughtful debate and crush dissent – it doesn't sound all that appealing does it? On the other hand, we don't need to wait for any government's permission to live full lives and to help our neighbours to live full lives too. Politics in its present form is too sclerotic and compromised to offer much hope but we shouldn't turn our backs on the democratic ideal because – as even the deeply flawed Winston Churchill understood – " ……. democracy is the worst form of Government except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.…' The way to better government is to demand better politicians – even loudly demand it at the risk of offending the Home Secretary. Good governance is a lot like good gardening; a collaborative, sensitive, and loving relationship between all the life forms of this outrageously creative earth.
Photographed in the wonderful garden designed by Piet Oudolf at the Hauser and Wirth Gallery in Bruton, Somerset.
Author Dave PolePosted on August 6, 2022 August 6, 2022 Categories Art, Eudaimonia - flourishing, The Potwell Inn LibraryTags community action, economic collapse, environmental catastrophe, local democracy, political engagementLeave a comment on Warmup choir at hustings meetings are a PR disaster warns advisor.
The storm that's coming
So what I'd rather be writing is a bit of a lamentation about the fact that our good friend the badger – about whom I wrote so warmly only two days ago – managed to limbo past the upturned crates and multiple bits of chicken wire, sheep wire, and underneath the lowest branches of a cordon apple to get right into the middle of the three sisters experiment where he must have sat his fat bottom on top of a squash plant whilst munching a couple of our cobs. The fencing – in the traditional British allotment style – was a bit too haphazard for this crafty and heavyweight poacher who must have laughed out loud as he scoffed our food. Nevertheless we shall love him through gritted teeth because he's family now; a bit like a teenage boy (we had three) who can empty a fridge without opening the door. Anyway enough selfish angst! because right now the badger is the least of our worries.
And precisely how big does a worry have to be to be considered an existential worry anyway? Both two and four legged poachers and browsers are a problem, but I don't wake up in a bewildered daze dreaming about them at five in the morning. It seems a bit overblown to react so strongly to the three greatest challenges of our age – our economic structure, our climate emergency and the mass extinction of creatures, the very existence of which we are often unaware. And yet ……..
"Your tears of frustration are important to us, please call again"
This week we've seen (and experienced in person in one case) – floods, unseasonable storms, drought and enormous forest fires and yet our government not only seems unprepared – but unwilling to engage seriously at all with the coming storm. I'd love to be able to write lyrically about the allotment; its minor setbacks and little triumphs. I'd love to think that if enough of us got into gardening the crisis would disappear; but it's not true. It's not possible to sort the mess out without mending our broken politics; kicking out the grifters, the panderers, the greedy, the entitled and the downright lame. If I wake at night it's because it seems as if there's no-one at the wheel. "Everything is for the best in the best of all possible worlds" is what being on-message seems to mean. Panglossian optimism is being broadcast on every print and broadcast medium followed by the small rider – "This is a recorded message – your tears of frustration are important to us, please try again".
Well everything is not for the best at all, but thinking at the national and international level just sucks the oxygen out of my brain. With the clowns in charge you'd be looking for a very large miracle indeed. So is there a way through without suffering paralysis or indulging in pointless gestures? Think ……. neighbourhood; district; town; county; region; parliament? At which word did your eyes glaze over?
We live in Bath. The problems here are not so different from the problems elsewhere. We have the challenge of tourism which the local authority seems to treasure above any other possible economic activity. We have an enormous problem with housing, poverty, homelessness, overstretched healthcare and traffic – the really big one. Every one of these issues arises as we progress through my hierarchy of authorities, but the chance of making a real difference is far greater at the local level. Let's take food distribution as an example. If we really want to increase locally sourced food with minimum transportation we can campaign locally for farmers markets and more – many more – smallholdings and allotment sites. Local politicians find it much harder to ignore issues that are raised by voters when they are face to face with us. Our part of the solution is to support the new ways and not endlessly snipe at them via social media because we might be mildly inconvenienced by not being allowed to park our Range Rovers on the pavement outside the shops. They put warnings and lurid photos of tumours on cigarette packets; why not on cars?
Can I just spell this out for the record – we need to stop driving so much – no if's or buts!
I get very agitated by the kind of greenwashed argument that suggests we can carry on exactly as we have been so long as we adopt this, or that, new bit of technology. When I was a child there was just one car in our street – owned by a commercial traveller called George Webb who emigrated to Canada. The only television in our immediate two streets was owned by Terry Winnum's dad who let us all in to watch the coronation. Back in the day you'd have to fall asleep in the middle of the road for two days to get yourself into a confrontation with a car. Actually we just played there – a whole street full of kids re-running recent history in war games and cowboys and indians in which – because we had been spared any direct knowledge of what had really happened – no-one got hurt. I thought that some men were just born with one leg, and it never occurred to me to wonder why my dad was so prone to getting drunk and having black moods.
Giving up cars in favour of well organised universal and clean public transport would be a huge step in the right direction and it's not like going back to the so-called dark ages (I'm 74 not 774 years old!) – it's going forward to a sustainable future and cleaner air almost immediately whilst – if we're really serious – it might head off floods, droughts, storms, fires and famines further down the line. I don't hear many people arguing that they'd gladly accept a global catastrophe if it meant they could go on driving their 3 litre SUVs through Bath. Mad Max is only a film after all. Most of the really significant environmental damage has been done in the last 50 or 60 years.
The point is – and I'm desperately sorry (only joking) to disappoint Coco the Prime Minister's environmental spokesperson – we've tried freezing the leftover bread but it didn't stop the fires in California. In fact we've tried just about every trivial, cost free, feelgood and instantly gratifying bit of greenery we could – and nothing has changed. So when the little things don't work it's essential that we turn to the big, expensive and culturally challenging things – like engaging with other countries and frightening the readers of the Daily Telegraph – which is all too easy, but anyone who's still communicating by way of telegraph is going to experience a bit of time delay in the system! Serious change is going to cost serious money – so we might have to abandon plans to tunnel under stonehenge and build half a dozen new airports.
But then, perhaps I should tell you about the first batch of pickled gherkins this season which are excellent. Did I ever mention what wonderful displacement activity gardening is?
Author Dave PolePosted on August 7, 2021 Categories Allotment, Eudaimonia - flourishing, Food, Natural HistoryTags economic collapse, environmental catastrophe, species extinctionsLeave a comment on The storm that's coming
Home again, home again, Jiggety Jig.
The herb at the top is French tarragon – a revelatory herb, like chervil.
In the absence of either a market or a fat pig, back on the allotment we swapped the wild plants of West Wales for the domestic sort and took the first really decent harvest of the season. It's not that we haven't been harvesting for ages, we've had a steady supply of rhubarb and asparagus; radishes and lettuce and so on but today was the first time we harvested a complete five a day meal's worth – new potatoes, broad (fava) beans, beetroots, garlic and carrots. The carrots were thinnings from a container experiment, and the potatoes too came out of one of the deep containers which have been a tremendous success because we've been able to move them around the plot wherever there's a temporary patch of empty ground. Thanks to our allotment neighbours nothing was lost during the little heatwave while we were away and apart from a hard session of weeding, the plot was looking good.
In the beginning of the season we filled every spare inch with calendula and tagetes and today we had to carry out a radical thinning to give the others room to breathe. There were coriander, angelica, lavender, evening primrose and Nicotiana rapidly being outgrown and so we had to uproot dozens of the more vigorous calendulas to bring the rest on. There's nothing more unnatural than a natural looking garden! The garlic was just a quick peep to see how they're fattening up and the rest will be left for a few weeks yet; but the perfume of the single bulb filled the kitchen when we got home.
The few survivors of the overwintered broad beans haven't done well, having been felled by a fierce and cold east wind – they dehydrated and weakened in spite of our improvised screens. The later sown replacements have grown quickly and well but being far more tender they were more vulnerable to blackfly and the ladybirds haven't really got up to full speed yet. Perhaps they too were badly affected by the cold and wet conditions. Usually we have dozens overwintering in our window frames at home but this year there were none.
Inside the polytunnel the tomatoes, aubergines, chillies and peppers are all setting fruits and once again the main work was removing side shoots. Even the melons have taken off and we're waiting for the first three fruits to set before removing all the rest to give the smaller number a chance of filling out and ripening. The Douce Provence peas too were afflicted in the same way but again the spring sown replacements are much better. Of the three varieties we're growing – Alderman, Douce Provence and Robinson's Show Perfection; the last of the three is winning hands down although we have to fight the pigeons for them always so this year we're growing them up the inside of the fruit cage which at least gives us the first five feet of vines. The greatest challenge, growing peas, is giving them time to fatten up, but getting them in before the pea moth strikes. Allotments become hotspots for all sorts of pests, and this year we've kept all of the garlic, onions, carrots and parsnips under the finest insect netting. It certainly spoils the appearance of the plot but we're hoping to grow some leeks free of allium leaf miner this year. Once again we're trying a variety of pot leek from Robinsons and it's looking good so far. I guess if you're going to grow organically the only option is to use insect barrier netting where the pests are tiny and bird netting for everything else. As for slugs and snails it's clear that healthy plants don't get attacked nearly so much but this year we've resorted to a nematode treatment because weather stressed plants are the go-to slug food. All I would say, though, is that you should ignore the photos on the seed packets. Typically, lettuces have a few yellow leaves on the outside, but you just peel them off – as you do with many other vegetables, put the peelings on the compost heap and suddenly they look just like the ones in the catalogue.
The rest of the day was spent building a sturdy frame with bean sticks to grow cucumbers and a winter squash up. The cucurbits can take up a huge amount of space in a small allotment and growing them vertically makes a lot of space.
And yes we had a wonderful time in St Davids, and did lots of reading, writing talking and walking. This lovely adder came to say hello on the path one day, and we watched a very large seal who looked up intently at us from the safety of the sea below us. The bird highlight was a ring ouzel – only the second I've ever seen. We also saw dozens of manx shearwaters skimming across the sea in the evenings as they went out in long skeins to feed. We've camped at the other end of the bay, and in a tent it's easy to hear the haunting sounds they make as they fly back low over the fields to Skomer where they nest. It's a kind of wheezy whistle that, the first time you hear it, makes your hair stand on end – like the cry of a fox or a vixen on heat – except that particular cry gets dubbed on to every night scene on every thriller shown on television!
There were times when we sat on the steps of the van watching the sun setting on the horizon of glittering sea, when I thought I could stay here all summer – but the allotment too has its moments of joy. If the last couple or three postings have felt a bit too philosophical, I'm sorry. Very selfishly I do my thinking at the laptop and I'm struggling to find a way of drawing all the threads together. Global extinctions, climate emergencies, pandemics and economic crises are, it seems to me, all closely related. Is it our culture that's diseased and no longer fit for purpose? We're all getting agitated, angry and paranoid about things and that's not the mindset that our perilous situation deserves. Can we really save the earth one cabbage at a time? Well, we've tried everything else.
Author Dave PolePosted on June 19, 2021 June 20, 2021 Categories Allotment, Eudaimonia - flourishing, Food, Natural HistoryTags adder, broad beans, container growing, early crops, economic collapse, global climate crisis, new potatoes, pest control, polytunnels, thinningsLeave a comment on Home again, home again, Jiggety Jig.
Is there a cunning plan?
It's utterly depressing, but the answer is going to be no. At the present moment living in the UK feels as if we've strayed into an episode of Blackadder, except there are no jokes. I'd like to be writing warm, lyrical and encouraging posts about how wonderful life is at the Potwell Inn – except it's not – and I don't mean that I'm lying here on the floor with an axe embedded in my head, although the thought may have entered Madame's mind. The reason it's not wonderful is that we've spent eleven months in a suspended state; very largely on our own and separated in any meaningful sense from our family and friends. During the first lockdown and the first easing we enjoyed the fine weather on the allotment, where we almost lived for months; but now in the winter there's hardly anything to do there because we used the autumn to prepare for next season. So we're deprived of the exercise and the sense of engagement that kept us sane for the first five or six months. Hence the renewed interest in long distance walks and the renewed exploration of the Mendip Hills, of which a little more later.
Of course there are always books. Madame reads novels and biographies, and pretty much anything else she can lay her hands on but I'm firmly in the grip of the protestant work ethic and my reading tends to be highly directional and (dare I say) improving stuff with footnotes and references and centred on the green new deal, environment, natural history, food and that kind of thing. I wish I felt more improved than I do but for the most part it leaves me feeling sad, utterly depressed or screaming at the TV in anger at the incapacity of either interviewers or politicians to ask or answer the simplest (but most diligent) question – more Blackadder. I remember once talking to a depressed consultant oncologist who confessed he was so overworked his first thought on meeting a new patient was how am I going to get this person out of the room? I always felt that any culpability for his reaction was far more due to the distant political choices that put him in that terrible position, than to any deficiency in him.
I probably shouldn't unload any of these personal anxieties except that I know that it can break through the isolation that leaves so many of us wondering if we're the only ones who feel this way. Isn't the first aim of gaslighting always to isolate your critics and convince them that it's all their fault. But it's not our fault that covid and brexit have been so badly managed. I look down the list of countries in which Potwell Inn readers live and I can see that many of us have been let down – in different ways – but still let down.
Not feeling safe; not knowing what to believe and what not to believe; not understanding what it is we're meant to do; missing the everyday pleasures of chance encounters with neighbours and friends; missing the lectures and meetings that cement us as a cohort of like-minded individuals; missing the hugs and the smell of our grandchildren's hair (OK that's a bit out there, but you know what I mean). All these etch into us like frost and rain etch their way into rock, and leave us feeling empty and exhausted. I read too many articles about the benefits of nature for mental health, but the principal benefit may be to writers writing books about the benefits. I reckon I'm a pretty resilient person, and I know that Madame is too; and yet we both feel hollowed out by this experience, and sometimes the walking and even the cooking and gardening seem more like displacement activity than wholesome activity should. Staying sane seems to be an immense effort of will.
One question has been bothering me in particular because, in the light of the constellation of crises we're facing, the issue of food security must surely come near the top. Do we really want to get back to normal if that involves the pollution, the destructive farming and the sickness that associates with bad economics, poverty and junk food. So I've spent quite a lot of time reading around the question of food security, trying to see if there's an answer to the question – could the UK be more self sufficient in food without going deeper into the abyss of intensive chemical dependent farming; and the answer – I'm pleased to say – is "Yes – But".
If there are any vegans and vegetarians out there who think we can save the world by eating processed non-animal gloop, then the answer is no. If there are intensive farmers who think the way forward is more of the same, the answer is no as well. It's no to industrial organic farms and no if you think we can feed ourselves on mediterranean delights grown on the allotment or purchased in the supermarket. If there are any people sitting in 3 litre SUV's prepared to embrace anything except changing the way they drive, it's also no. And it's no to airlines, and no to food miles and criminal waste. In fact the answer can only be yes if we're all prepared to change – quite a bit. This isn't just a personal view, it's a summary of all the scientific evidence I've managed to get my hands on.
Number one – (two three and four as well!) – is we need to eat less meat, much less meat; preferably chicken because it has a much more efficient conversion ratio. We need to embrace a plainer more sustainable diet sourced as locally as possible – to quote Michael Pollan – 'eat food, not too much, mostly veg'. The over embracing plan is summarised by Tim Lang in his book "Feeding Britain – our food problems and how to fix them" * – and he describes it as "a great food transformation". Crucially this isn't a book about organic farming or vegetarian diet, it's an important book about farming, diet, public health, social policy, politics and food culture. You would profit from reading it wherever you stand on the food and farming spectrum. Of course, the cynics will say that the population will never embrace such far reaching change, to which he would respond that in a crisis – let's say the onset of war in 1939, for instance, there won't be any alternative but to change. The storm clouds that are gathering on the horizon right now are coming our way and our political system is proving itself unfit to deal even with one challenge, let alone three or four existential crises at once.
They would say that wouldn't they?
Mandy Rice Davies
But this is good news. We are categorically not all doomed – we can make the changes we need to make and what's more important, we can create a far better, far less divided and infinitely safer world as we do it. We mustn't allow the powerful to claim that nothing can be done except more of the same. They would say that wouldn't they?
Well there we are, and just to prove it's not all been eye strain these past couple of days, the long Mendip Way walk is being chipped off a few miles at a time. On Monday we walked from Tynings Farm down to Shipham; back through Rowberrow Warren and across Blackdown. Why would I bother with these obscure place names when many people who read this will never see them? and the answer is that place names are beautiful in and of themselves, like tiny topographical markers that set up home in your mind and remind you that the earth is made of places which, just like us, have names and histories and are often very beautiful. The walk took us down the most lovely valley, following a stream most of the way, and then back through a forestry plantation and out on to the open moorland of Blackdown. Barely five miles but offering three quite distinct landscapes. Best of all we found hazel catkins flowering in profusion in the sheltered valley. The photograph shows one such catkin, coated in melting ice formed in the overnight frost but demonstrating that spring will come – and it can't come too soon.
I'll make a proper booklist soon – most of the books have been mentioned but I'll assemble a proper list in case anyone is interested.
Author Dave PolePosted on December 19, 2020 Categories About the Potwell Inn, Eudaimonia - flourishing, Food, Natural History, The Potwell Inn LibraryTags Allotment, Brexit, economic collapse, food cultures, food security, intensive farming, long distance paths, Mendip Way, organic farming, planning for post-covid, sustainable agriculture1 Comment on Is there a cunning plan?
I don't have a harp, but there have been many times over the past few years when I might have hung it on the first available poplar tree in rage and sadness at what's been happening – except rage and sadness don't really achieve much. What's depression, after all, except rage and anger turned inwards. "If only we could have better government" was always my first port of call when looking for a solution to the multiple injustices being suffered by the most vulnerable people. Chris Smage, in his book "A small Farm Future" which I've been reading and writing about enthusiastically this last week lists ten (yes ten) interlinked crises which should concern all of us. I think they're worth listing here.
Stuff (you'll have to read the book!)
You don't have to be a philosopher to see that these stress markers are all flashing red at the moment. Equally, you don't have to be a Marxist, waiting for the iron laws of history finally to show their hand, to know that these kinds of crisis tend to go critical unpredictably, like erupting volcanoes – Covid is a classic example. While we all (I hope) know that something needs to be done about them all, nothing seems to happen beyond a few reports and a bit of hand wringing.
I've been fascinated at this 'rabbit in the headlights' feature of our political lives; assuming that everyone can see the dangers but can't – for whatever reason – react; whilst all the while I was getting more and more agitated about it. But what if the oncoming bus with no brakes was unconcerning to some/many people precisely because they think it's a long way away and all we need to do is get a better bus driver (Prime Minister, Leader of the Opposition, President, Inventor – write your own in ….). For me the most acute pain of this dilemma has been to realize that there are no competent bus drivers because there is (almost by definition) no-one around who's ever tried to control a ten headed beast like this one. We're so immersed in our economic structure and its cultural apparatus that it's impossible to see the crises being tackled in any other way than saving jobs, even if it means digging more mines; fracking oil; selling weapons; gambling the markets and building more nuclear power stations and inventing cardboard piercing laser weapons. Choosing another charismatic 'big man' to lead us back to the Promised Land is pointless.
And then, suddenly it came to me that this epochal upheaval is insoluble by any method we yet have any detailed hold on because, like Covid 19, we don't know how it will start, how it will develop and what course it will run. Ironically this was something of a relief – not having to choose between policies that turn out to be no more than aspirations to be discarded at the first sign of a headwind. And equally surprising to me is my sense that we have many of the answers we need tucked away in our experiences and memories.
Madame and me were once on a course where we were separated and invited to write down the best and closest moment in our relationship. Our fellow course members all mentioned holidays, honeymoons and some other pretty predictable stuff. We, though, had both written down the time when we were being evicted because our basement flat was deemed unfit for habitation. Madame was 7 months pregnant and we had no idea what we were going to do but freed from any responsibility for what was being done to us we improvised, nagged, haggled and fought and after 18 months living in our unfit basement with a baby, we were rehoused. I don't think we were ever closer than we were during that time.
So I'm able to find a ray of hope in human ingenuity, creativity and (this is the risky one) a capacity for kindness towards strangers . No-one in their right mind would look forward to a societal, ecological or economic breakdown but if it comes I've no doubt that we will discover gifts that we never dreamed we possessed.
Author Dave PolePosted on November 25, 2020 Categories UncategorizedTags climate catastrophe, community action, economic collapse, homelessness, political engagementLeave a comment on By the waters of Babylon
Britannia lures the waves!
And – as the great ship of state sinks gently to the seabed of reality …….
Sometimes a photo is a ready-made metaphor for something you can't quite explain! But then, it was such a nice day today for a reflective walk that even the provocations made me laugh. I've written before about the way each season carries intimations of the next to cheer us on, and today there was a tremendous sense that spring will come because time and tide bow to no-one, however powerful our inglorious leaders might like us to think they are. There were signs of occasional occupation in this boat until a month or two ago, but now it's about to join the shopping trolleys and stolen bikes at the bottom of the river. Meanwhile the prophets of Baal (you can look it up, it's a very funny story) whip themselves up into a froth of evangelical fervour as we stand alone against Johnny Foreigner – ready to show what we're really made of. Sadly, there's absolutely no sign of Elijah anywhere on the horizon – I certainly don't think Keir Starmer cuts the prophetic mustard. Anyway as a sign of our preparedness for the coming troubles I thought the poor old wreck was a fitting tribute. Johnson's new £10 billion navy – "Just needs a lick of battleship grey and a union flag and she'll look as good as she did in the 1930's". And we all know how well that went.
So by way of a bit of diversion this two part graffiti on the river bank made me laugh out loud:
I thought the waggish "why?" completely demolished the rather earnest philosophical tone of the original comment. Elsewhere I thought you might like to see this 20th century brutalist response to the foppish grandeur of Georgian Bath.
Yes it's the Avon Street multi story car park which is about to be demolished – but still much loved by skateboarders. Needless to say the offending building – like most of the truly ugly modern buildings in Bath was erected in Kingsmead – where we now live. This was the area that was most damaged during the Baedeker air raids during the war – the bombers missed the real target back in the day – but instead of grasping the opportunity to restore what was always a poor but vibrant mixed community they built lots of horrors like this and demolished even more small, historic houses across on the London Road on the spurious grounds that they were unfit. The tragedy, of course, is not so much the failure of architectural imagination – I'm not arguing here for mock Georgian multi-story carriage stables – it's the shocking fact that someone, in an office somewhere, thought this was all we were worth. George Steiner wrote memorably of a critical test for literature – "What measure of [hu]man does this propose?" The architect Richard Rogers has written that buildings embody our idea of human worth, what we're about and what we're capable of. We're not there yet by any means – the Western Riverside Development in Bath, done by Crest Nicholson resembles nothing more than a bonded warehouse or an architectural tribute to a Chernobyl housing project.
There are, however, grounds for hope. The lockdown has created economic havoc among some of the larger companies, but many of the smaller shops and businesses have proved themselves more adaptable; working collectively and capitalising on what feels like a real longing for a new order. The butchers and bakers and for all I know the candlestick makers too have tapped into something significant, exploring the meaning of local and community; and all it could take to demolish the supermarket myth for good will be another food supply crisis – like the one so heedlessly being put together at the moment. It used to be a raise in bread prices that caused riots – maybe this will be the first civil unrest ever caused by a shortage of jackfruit and avocados, but more plausibly – given the middle class aversion to any action bar gentle hand wringing – it will be provoked by the absence of the everyday things; the foodstuffs that (like it or not), most of us have learned to depend upon.
So back to my book of the year (so far). Here's a section that caught my eye this morning:
We've now discussed, however briefly,the human ecology of field crops, gardens, livestock and wood crops with a view to constructing more sustainable farm systems for the future out of this raw material. Earlier I mentioned the idea of people re-wilding themselves in the context of that future – spreading themselves out across the landscape like other organisms to to skim its flows sustainably rather than concentrating so as to mine its stocks, practising the arts of self-reliance, knowing how to fill the larder, and knowing how to stop when the larder is full rather than pursuing an economy of endless accumulation.
Chris Smage – "A Small Farm Future" p 144
Well, Amen to that. The economy doesn't just need the tyres pumping up or an oil change it needs to be exposed for what it has become, the means of extracting wealth, leisure and humanity from millions of people and throwing millions more into dependency, sickness and poverty. The etymology of the word crisis comes from the Greek crino – to choose – and so we have to ask who gets to choose when we reach the crossroads? – when the multiple crises facing us come to fruition at the same time because, in essence they are one massive connected crisis.
So to round off a pleasurable walk today, photographs of the two repurposed bridges from the 'glory days' of steam. The first the line from the old Somerset and Dorset, which brought coal (remember that) in from Midsomer Norton and the North Somerset coalfield into Green Park Station. The second, the old Midland Railway line. A third one comes in from the West and goes to London and is the only surviving working line. And of course there's the lovely iron pedestrian bridge over the Kennet and Avon canal which no longer carries coal but pleasure boaters onwards towards London. The latest bridge across the river is for pedestrians and cyclists only. Steam has gone; coal has gone and the old station now houses market stalls, a butchers shop, food outlets and the local farmers market on a Saturday. The owner says he could let another six units today if there was space. Is this a sign of collapse or is it the foretaste of a new future, the first buds of spring that actually appear in late autumn when the leaves fall from the trees? If you look now you'll see the buds there waiting. Only time will tell what fruits they will bear.
Author Dave PolePosted on November 19, 2020 November 20, 2020 Categories About the Potwell Inn, Art, Eudaimonia - flourishing, Food, The Potwell Inn LibraryTags brutalist architecture, community action, economic collapse, environmental complacency, environmental crisis, graffiti, locally sourcing, re-wildingLeave a comment on Britannia lures the waves!
Digging in for the winter
Could there be a more boring photo than three Ball preserving jars in a pressure pan? I've always thought of cooking as a rampart against creeping despair and, curiously enough I was comparing notes with one of our (chef) sons and he felt exactly the same way. It turned out we'd both been spending hours at the stove, and both of us fighting off the onset of November.
Madame has been pining – well I have too – missing any real contact with our sons and grandchildren and so, with the prospect of another big lockdown in our minds we grabbed a chance of sharing a socially distanced walk with them. It was hammering down with rain, and the footpaths were nightmarishly slippery but we were all so overjoyed to see one another we'd have walked over embers to be there. Later we finished up at their allotment and they're experiencing the same kind of thing as us. Their allotment site too was alive with activity during the furlough, and now as people have returned to work the plots are rapidly reverting to grassland. We found a cleared plot in exactly that condition, and in the middle was an apple tree groaning with fruit, and with dozens of windfalls on the ground surrounding it. None were being harvested and so we gathered up a couple of carrier bags of windfalls and took them to our respective kitchens. I should have photographed them, but we're pretty sure they are Newton Wonder – a cooking variety that's quite the equal of a Bramley in flavour but extremely vigorous. The fruits were very large too and we set too, peeled and chopped them and, after a small trial batch, added a little lemon juice, clove, a cinnamon stick and about a quarter pint of elderflower cordial with a bit more water. The apples took up rather more fluid then a Bramley would have done. And that was it – after 10 minutes in the pressure cooker to sterilize them they'll go into store along with all the other preserves – six 750g jars in all.
The question of food security was on my mind today because an email arrived from a young friend in Guatemala, full of concern for her UK parents. And I think she's entirely right to be concerned because the initial stages of the lockdown were marked by a collapse in food distribution here, with long queues and empty shelves everywhere. If, as we fear, the UK leaves Europe without a trade agreement things will get much worse, and with a gathering worldwide economic depression there's a general feeling that the present economic structure has reached an impasse; greedily consuming far more resources than the earth can provide. I constantly want to shout out – "There's no Seventh Cavalry about to charge over the hill and save us!" – like they used to do in the Westerns. I'm a very reluctant revolutionary, but – we don't have decades for politicians to try to find ways of appearing radical while doing nothing.
I know I often quote poetry or poets here, but that's because when they're good they manage to cut through all the verbiage and tell it like it is. Recently I've been reading Louis MacNeice's "Autumn Journal" and it affects me so much I tried to read a section to Madame the other day and scared the living daylights out of her by bursting into tears. MacNeice was writing about that period in 1939 that's become known as the phony war; the months when nothing was actually happening but the tsunami was gathering strength just across the channel in Europe, and people were so desperately hoping that the politicians could lead the country back to something that looked and felt normal. That's how it feels here right now, and I've no confidence that there is the leadership we need here to address the hydra headed monster of covid; economic and social collapse plus an impending ecological disaster. Only a new vision will do and it's nowhere to be seen.
So we cook, and store, and get our gardens and allotments ready for a new season. We pine for our distanced families and friends and lay in stores and playlists of films and music to console us and remind us that although we may be deeply flawed – "glorious ruins" as one theologian described humanity; we are capable of being glorious, creative and loving to one another. November has broken in our hearts before its appointed time and this first week of Greenwich Mean Time has been as mean as hell.
But we harvested some rather lovely fennel, and the resident heron along the river obliged us by posing rather miserably in the rain and in a brief appearance by the sun the trees in Henrietta Park we remembered that this is – or can be – one of the most beautiful seasons of the year. And, of course, there's about ten pounds of stewed Newton Wonder apples to raid in the February lean times.
Author Dave PolePosted on October 30, 2020 Categories About the Potwell Inn, Eudaimonia - flourishing, Food, Natural HistoryTags Allotment, autumn fruits, covid 19, economic collapse, environmental crisis, Louis MacNeice, Newton Wonder apples, phony war, pining, preservingLeave a comment on Digging in for the winter
Sleeping with the enemy?
30C all day – and so, counterintuitively perhaps, I spent the day batch cooking and making bread in the kitchen. It was hot!
George Monbiot, writing in the Guardian today, asks why it is that the RSPB, the largest wildlife charity specialising in birds in the UK has joined with the Woodland Trust, an equally large and well supported charity, in giving support to an enormous scheme to build a new town twice the size of Birmingham between Oxford and Cambridge. This project was universally opposed by residents and wildlife groups until now when these two significant charities have reversed their position to support the scheme. The full article is here .
I think I know a part of the answer to this because I recall reading in Mark Cocker's book "Our Place" that the RSPB have got serious form in this area. When the proposal to build an M4 relief route was being contested vigorously by environmentalists because it would have destroyed five out of nine protected areas in the Newport wetlands, an RSPB spokesperson is reported as saying:
As far as she was concerned the motorway would not affect their site and might actually increase visitor numbers
quoted in Mark Cocker "Our Place" page 65
With friends like the RSPB who needs enemies? you might wonder. But in the free market freewheeling culture of charities competing for favours and contracts from government and big businesses trying to greenwash their activities we should hardly be surprised.
I well remember resigning from a homeless charity because as they began to grow and take on more and more managerial and administrative workers they put pressure on us – the volunteers who actually took food out to rough sleepers at night – to stop handing out a couple of cigarettes to them "because it encouraged them to sleep rough". I think anyone who imagines that they would put up with the squalour and privation of life on the streets for the sake of a couple of free fags a week needs to get out more. But there we are – 'he who pays the piper calls the tune' and the most effective method of neutralizing any campaigning charity is to fund it. Outright persecution is far less effective, but once the campaign is 'on the payroll' a quiet word is all that's needed.
All this would be OK if, as in Candide, 'all is for the best in the best of all possible worlds' , but it isn't. The world is in crisis and the time for quiet words is gone – if it ever truly existed. Another couple of news stories fed into my laptop today. Yesterday I mentioned the pollution of the River Wye by intensive organic chicken farming. I also read that there's a serious cluster of Covid 19 cases centred on a chicken processing plant (slaughterhouse) in Anglesea North Wales. There's another larger cluster in a similar plant in Bavaria, Germany. The resurgence in Beijing is centred on ….. need I go on. This catastrophe all started in a wet market where animals are slaughtered in unhygienic conditions, and it's thought that the virus passed into humans as a result of the trade in wild animals for human consumption driven by the growth of intensive foreign owned meat companies which leads to peasant and small farmers migrating to the edges of the remaining forests where they forage for wild animals or raise domestic animals on a small scale even though there is a constant danger of viral mutations, because that's the only way left to make a living. But it isn't all farming that causes these problems it's bad farming.
The common factor in all these incidences is poverty, poor wages, frequent appalling hygiene (less so in this country it should be said) and intensive agriculture that drives traditional farmers out of business. All these crises; environmental degradation , economic collapse, health problems, epidemics, migration and social unrest are merely symptoms of a single cause; the idolatry of the unrestrained free market. To go back to where I started this piece, a new concrete city twice the size of Birmingham (UK) isn't part of the solution it's just another part of the problem, and when governments and environmental charities alike are feted and funded by lobbyists then they're playing the same old gradualist, 'leave it to me' game. Shame on them.
The idyllic world of my grandparents' smallholding in the Chilterns is about to be trashed by another enormous government scheme for a high speed rail link, the economics of which have been shown from the outset to be spurious. Surely we need to call time on this madness – after all it's our money that they're spending in order to to make the world impossible for us to live in at all; let alone well.
What should be the role of environmental charities in all this? Surely – at the least they should remain independent even at the cost of contracts, power and influence. The cost of their discreet silence is much greater.
Author Dave PolePosted on June 24, 2020 Categories Eudaimonia - flourishing, Natural History, The Potwell Inn LibraryTags covid 19, economic collapse, environmental crisis, HST, Mark Cocker, Newport Wetlands, RSPB, urban sprawlLeave a comment on Sleeping with the enemy?
Proudly powered by WordPress Theme: Twenty Sixteen.


text:
Commission Launches New Cybersecurity Strategy
The European Commission unveiled the new cybersecurity strategy on December 16, in a bid to strengthen the bloc's digital resilience. On the strategy, the EU proposes the creation of a joint national security authority unit and another one to deal with incidents.
The news arrived a few days after the European Medicines Agency suffered a cyber attack, when regulatory submissions of the COVID-19 vaccine were hacked.
The Commission says it will deliver towards the digital transformation of societies and economies by investing on infrastructure and skills capable of safeguarding the digital realm.
This includes an "EU-wide Cyber Shield" connecting national security authorities through the use of artificial intelligence and machine learning to boost situational awareness and detect early signs of attacks.
Also, the Commission announced it will secure the next generation of 5G networks and it urged member states to complete the implementation of the EU's recommendations on 5G.
The EU's new strategy also foresees a cyber unit to respond to incidents and threats, and improved cooperation between member states and with organisations like NATO.
"The digital transformation is accelerating, but it can only succeed if people and businesses can trust that the connected products and services - on which they rely – are secure," said Competition Commissioner Margrethe Vestager.
The aim of the new strategy is to capacitate a joint resilience against cyber threats while ensuring that "citizens and businesses can fully benefit from trustworthy and reliable services and digital tools", says the Commission.
On the strategy, the Commission proposes legislation to deal with critical entities covering ten sectors. These include energy, transport, banking, financial market infrastructures, health, drinking water, water waste, digital infrastructure, public administration and space.
"Cyber attacks are part of our reality. Just like we do in the physical world, we need to protect our democratic institutions, our public services, our hospitals and our industry," expressed the Internal Market Commissioner Thierry Breton on Twitter.
Further examinations to the proposed legislation are still to happen between the Parliament and the Council.
As soon as the proposals are agreed and adopted, EU countries have 18 months to implement them.
An agreement is expected in the early months of 2021.

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Your search is now limited to «Value-based Care» expert search.
Friday, April 19th, 2019 This post was written by Melanie Matthews In today's healthcare economy, value-based care remains top of mind for payers and providers alike.
Only Georgia, Mississippi, Indiana and West Virginia have yet to launch an official value-based care (VBC) model.
In addition, states have the authority to move private insurance markets to value-based reimbursement using value-based payment targets and other initiatives.
Digital health could ease providers' value-based care headaches.
Maximizing the "value" in value networks and value-based payment Aligning VBC programs with operations Health systems should regularly evaluate their portfolio of commercial and government VBC contracts to identify improvement opportunities.
Four states have no official value program: Georgia, Indiana, Mississippi and West Virginia.
Eight states are in the early stages of developing value-based payment strategies, and six have implemented such strategies for four years or longer.
The study also highlights six states with well-developed value-based care strategies in place four years or more, 34 with initiatives two or more years into implementation, and eight states in early stage VBC development.
State Leading the Transition The study highlights six states with well-developed value-based care strategies in place four years or more, 34 with initiatives two or more years into implementation, and eight states in early stage VBC development.
Cerner is currently in the process of making several changes to its board of directors and strategic initiatives under the direction of activist investor Starboard Value.
Washington (April 10, 2019) – The Alliance of Community Health Plans (ACHP) applauds Read more. The post RELEASE: ACHP Applauds House and Senate for Commitment to Quality & Value in Medicare Advantage appeared first on ACHP .
Do you value your patient as a person?
The monetary aspect may come into play with value-based care, but that is not the answer.
Per the report, under this contract, the value-based payment of using the Guardian Connect system will depend on the amount of time spent on a healthy glucose range.
Oak Street Health's community-based care model focuses on the overall value of health care for its patients.
Plus, as we move to value-based care, this problem is becoming even more challenging.


text:
PCMag UK Computers & Electronics Components Graphics Cards
Asus Website Lists Laptop With Intel's First Dedicated Graphics Card
According to the computer code on Asus's website, the GPU is named 'Intel Iris Xe Max graphics.' However, it remains unclear when the laptop will actually launch.
By Michael Kan
19 Oct 2020, 6:08 p.m.
(Credit: Asus)
Intel's first dedicated graphics card for consumers will apparently end up in an Asus laptop.
The VivoBook Flip 14 was recently unveiled on Asus's website, and according to the features list, the laptop convertible will carry the "First Intel Discrete Graphics" unit inside.
If you dig into the Asus website code, the PC vendor also names the GPU the "Intel Iris Xe Max graphics," which caught the attention of Twitter user @momomo_us.
Strangely, Asus hasn't been talking up the 14-inch laptop on social media or through its public relations channels. Nor has Intel. So we're not sure why it isn't getting more fanfare. Both companies didn't immediately respond to a request for comment.
Still, the laptop does fit into Intel's timeline for its dedicated graphics card. In August, the company's head of graphics, Raja Koduri, said Intel was on track to ship its first discrete GPU for laptops by the end of 2020. However, the card won't be for gaming laptops, but for notebooks designed for mobile content creators, such as graphic artists.
The VivoBook Flip 14 fits the bill; Asus is marketing it to creative types who need a fast laptop for work projects. The Windows 10 machine will also come with Intel's 11th-generation Core "Tiger Lake" processors, up to 1TB of PCIe SSD, and a Thunderbolt 4 port.
Unfortunately, Asus's website for the VivoBook Flip 14 doesn't list a price or a launch date. But we reviewed the AMD Ryzen version of the laptop, and it's currently up for sale on Amazon starting at $707.
Intel Launches Budget-Friendly Core i3-10100F
Intel Core i7 vs. Core i9: What's the Difference?
HP Unveils Spectre x360 14, a Laptop Convertible With Intel's 'Tiger Lake' CPUs
About Michael Kan
Michael has been a PCMag reporter since October 2017. He previously covered tech news in China from 2010 to 2015, before moving to San Francisco to write about cybersecurity.
More From Michael Kan
Netflix Reaches Over 200 Million Subscribers
Malwarebytes Hit by SolarWinds Hackers, But Only Internal Emails Were Accessed
Acer, HP Prep New Chromebooks for Students and Teachers
Paramount Plus, the Rebranded CBS All Access, Launches March 4
WhatsApp Postpones Privacy Policy Update After Users Flee to Rival Services


text:
The Academical Reader: Comprising Selections from the Most Admired Authors ...
作者:John J. Harrod
In order to acquire a proper management of the emphasis, the great rule to be given is, that the reader study to attain a just conception of the force and spirit of the sentiment which he is to pronounce. To lay the emphasis with exact propriety, is a constant exercise of good sense and attention. It is far from being an inconsiderable attainment. It is one of the most decisive trials of true and just taste; and must arise from feeling delicately ourselves, and from judging accurately of what is fittest to strike the feelings of
There is one error, against which it is particularly proper to caution the learner; namely, that of multiplying emphatical words too much, and using the emphasis indiscriminately. It is only by a prudent reserve and distinct on in the use of them, that we can give them any weight. If they recur too often; if a reader attempts to render every thing he expresses, of high importance, by a multitude of strong emphasis, we soon learn to pay little regard to them. To crowd every sentence with emphatical words, is like crowding all the pages of a book with Italic characters: which, as to the effect, is just the same as to use no such distinctions at all.
TONES.
Tones are different both from emphasis and pauses; consisting in the notes or variations of sound which we employ, in the expression of our sentiments. Emphasis affects particular words and phrases, with a degree of tone, or inflection of voice; but tones, peculiarly so called, affect sentences, paragraphs, and sometimes the whole of a discourse.
To show the use and necessity of tones, we need only observe, that the mind, in communicating its ideas, is in a constant state of activity, emotion, or agitation, from the different effects which those ideas produce in the speaker.
The limits of this introduction do not admit of examples, to illus trate the variety of tones belonging to the different passions and emotions. We shall, however, select one, which is extracted from the beautiful lamentation of David over Saul and Jonathan, and which will, in some degree, elucidate what has been said on this subject. "The beauty of Israel is slain upon thy high places; how are the mighty fallen! Tell it not in Gath; publish it not in the streets of Askelon; lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice; lest the daughters of the uncircumcised triumph. Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew nor rain upon you, nor fields of offer. ings; for there the shield of the mighty was vilely cast away; the shield of Saul, as though he had not been anointed with oil." The first of these divisions, expresses sorrow and lamentation; therefore the note is low. The next contains a spirited command, and should be pronounced much higher. The other sentence, in which he makes a pathetic address to the mountains where his friends had been slain, must be expressed in a note quite different from the two former; not so low as the first, nor so high as the second, but in a man. ly, firm, and yet plaintive tone.
Moderation in attention to the tone and language of emotions, is necessary as in other things. For when the reading becomes strictly imitative, it assumes a theatrical manner, and must be highly improper, as well as give offence to the hearers; because it is inconsistent with that delicacy and modesty which are indispensible on such occasions. The speaker who delivers his own emotions, must be supposed to be more vivid and animated than would be proper in the person who relates them at second hand.
We shall conclude this section with the following rule, for the tones that indicate the passions and emotions: "In reading, let all your tones of expression be borrowed from those of common speech, but, in some degree, more faintly characterized. Let those tones which signify any disagreeable passion of the mind, be still more faint than those which indicate agreeable emotions; and, on all occasions, preserve yourselves from being so far affected with the subject, as to be unable to proceed through it, with that easy and masterly manner, which has its good effects in this, as well as in every other
PAUSES.
Pauses, or rests, in speaking or reading, are a total cessation of the voice, during a perceptible, and in many cases, a measurable space of time. Pauses are equally necessary to the speaker and the hearer. To the speaker, that he may take breath, without which he cannot proceed far in delivery; and that he may, by these temporary rests, relieve the organs of speech which otherwise would be soon tired by continual action; to the hearer, that the ear, also, may be relieved from the fatigue it would otherwise endure from a continuity of sound; and that the understanding may have sufficient time to mark the distinction of sentences, and their several members.
There are two kinds of pauses: first, emphatical pauses; and next, such as mark the distinctions of sense. An emphatical pause is generally made after something has been said of peculiar moment, and on which we desire to fix the hearer's attention. Sometimes, before such a thing is said, we usher it in with a pause of this nature. Such pauses have the same effect as a strong emphasis; and are subject to the same rules; especially to the caution of not repeating them too frequently. For as they excite uncommon attention, and of course raise expectation, if the importance of the matter be not fully answerable to such expectation, they occasion disappointment and disgust.
But the most frequent and the principal use of pauses, is to mark the divisions of the sense, and at the same time to allow the reader to draw his breath; and the proper and delicate adjustment of such pauses, is one of the most nice and difficult articles of delivery. In all reading, the management of the breath requires a good deal of care, so as not to oblige us to divide words from one another, which have so intimate a connexion, that they ought to be pronounced with the same breath, and without the least separation. Many a sentence is miserably mangled, and the force of the emphasis totally lost, by divisions being made in the wrong place. To avoid this, every one,
while he is reading, should be very careful to provide a full supply of breath for what he is to utter. It is a great mistake to imagine, that the breath must be drawn only at the end of a period, when the voice is allowed to fall. It may easily be gathered at the intervals of the period, when the voice is suspended only for a moment; and, by this management, one may always have a sufficient stock for carrying on the longest sentence, without improper interruptions.
Pauses in reading must be generally formed upon the manner in which we utter ourselves in ordinary, sensible conversation; and not upon the stiff artificial manner, which is acquired from reading books according to the common punctuation. It will by no means be sufficient to attend to the points used in printing; for these are far from marking all the pauses that ought to be made in reading. On this head, the following direction may be of use: Though in reading, great attention should be paid to the stops, yet a greater should be given to the sense; and their correspondent times occasionally lengthened beyond what is usual in common speech."
To render pauses pleasing and expressive, they must not only be made in the right place, but also accompanied with a proper tone of voice, by which the nature of these pauses is intimated, much more than by the length of them, which can seldom be exactly measured. Sometimes it is only a slight and simple suspension of voice that is proper; sometimes a degree of cadence in the voice is required; and Sometimes that peculiar tone and cadence which denote the sentence to be finished. In all these cases, we are to regulate ourselves by attending to the manner in which nature teaches us to speak, when engaged in real and earnest discourse with others. The following sentence exemplifies the suspending and the closing pauses: "Hope, the balm of life, soothes us under every misfortune."! "The first and second pauses are accompanied by an inflection of voice, that gives the hearer an expectation of something further to complete the sense: the inflection attending the third pause signifies that the sense is completed.
The preceding example is an illustration of the suspending pause, in its simple state: the following instance exhibits that pause with a degree of cadence in the voice: "If content cannot remove the disquietudes of mankind, it will at least alleviate them."
The rising and falling inflections must not be confounded with emphasis. Though they may often coincide, they are, in their nature, perfectly distinct. Emphasis sometimes controls those inflections.
The regular application of the rising and falling inflections, confers so much beauty on expression, and is so necessary to be studied by the young reader, that we shall insert a few more examples, to induce him to pay greater attention to the subject. In these instances, all the inflections are not marked. Such only are distinguished, as are most striking, and will best serve to show the reader their utility and importance.
"Manufactures, trade, and agriculture', certainly employ more than nineteen parts in twenty of the human species.
"He who resigns the world, has no temptation to envy', hatred`,
malice`, anger'; but is in constant possession of a serene mind; he who follows the pleasures of it, which are, in their very nature, disappointing, is in constant search of care`, solicitude', remorse', and confusion."
"To advise the ignorant`, relieve the needy`, comfort the afflicted', are duties that fall in our way almost every day of our lives."
"Those evil spirits, who, by long custom, have contracted habits of lust' and sensuality`; malice', and revenge`; an aversion to every thing that is good`, just`, and laudable, are naturally seasoned and prepared for pain and misery."
"I am persuaded that neither death', nor life`; nor angels', nor principalities', nor powers`; nor things present', nor things to come`; nor height', nor depth`; nor any other creature', shall be able to se parate us from the love of God."
The reader who would wish to see a minute and ingenious investigation of the nature of these inflections, and the rules by which they are governed, may consult Walker's Elements of Elocution.
MANNER OF READING VERSE.
When we are reading verse, there is a peculiar difficulty in making the pauses justly. The difficulty arises from the melody of verse which dictates to the ear pauses or rests of its own: and to adjust and compound these properly with the pauses of the sense, so as neither to hurt the ear, nor offend the understanding, is so very nice a matter, that it is no wonder we so seldom meet with good readers of poetry. There are two kinds of pauses that belong to the melody of verse: one is the pause at the end of the line; and the other, the cxsural pause in or near the middle of it. With regard to the pause at the end of the line, which marks that strain or verse to be finished, rhyme renders this always sensible; and in some measure compels us to observe it in our pronunciation. In respect to blank verse, we ought also to read it so as to make every line sensible to the ear; for, what is the use of melody, or for what end has the poet composed in verse, if, in reading his lines, we suppress his numbers, by omitting the final pause; and degrade them, by our pronunciation, into mere prose?
The other kind of melodious pause, is that which falls somewhere about the middle of the verse, and divides it into two hemistichs; a pause not so great as that which belongs to the close of the line, but still sensible to an ordinary ear. This, which is called the cæsural pause, may fall, in English heroic verse, after the 4th, 5th, 6th, or 7th syllable in the line. Where the verse is so constructed, that this cæsural pause coincides with the slightest pause or division in the sense, the line can be read easily; as in the two first verses of Pope's Messiah:
"Ye nymphs of Solyma! begin the song;
"To heav'nly themes``, sublimer strains belong."
But if it should happen that words which have so strict and intimate a connection, as not to bear even a momentary separation, are divided from one another by this cæsural pause, we then feel a sort of strug
gle between the sense and the sound, which renders it difficult to read such lines harmoniously. The rule of proper pronunciation in such cases, is to regard only the pause which the sense forms; and to read the line accordingly. The neglect of the casural pause may make the line sound somewhat unharmoniously; but the effect would be much worse, if the sense were sacrificed to the sound. For instance, in the following lines of Milton:
"What in me is dark,
Illumine; what is low, raise and support."
The sense clearly dictates the pause after illumine, at the end of the third syllable, which, in reading, ought to be made accordingly; though, if the melody only were to be regarded, illumine should be connected with what follows, and the pause not made till the fourth or sixth syllable. So in the following line of Pope's Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot:
"I sit, with sad civility I read."
The ear plainly points out the cæsural pause as falling after sad, the fourth syllable. But it would be very bad reading to make any pause there, so as to separate sad and civility. The sense admits of no other pause than after the second syllable sit, which therefore must be the only pause made in reading this part of the sentence.
There is another mode of dividing some verses, by introducing what may be called demi-casuras, which require very slight pauses, and which the reader should manage with judgment, or he will be apt to fall into an affected sing-song mode of pronouncing verses of this kind. The following lines exemplify the demi-cæsura:
"Warms' in the sun", refreshes' in the breeze,
Glows' in the stars", and blossoms' in the trees;
Lives' through all life", extends' through all extent,
Spreads' undivided", operates' unspent."
PUBLIC SPEAKING.
Acquire a compass and variety in the Height of your Voice.-The monotony so much complained of in public speakers, is chiefly owing to the neglect of this rule. They generally content themselves with one certain key which they employ on all occasions, and on every subject; or if they attempt variety it is only in proportion to the number of their hearers, and the extent of the places in which they speak; imagining, that speaking in a high key is the same thing as speaking loud; and not observing, that whether a speaker shall be heard or not, depends more upon the distinctness and force with which he utters his words, than upon the height, at which he pitches his voice.
But it is an essential qualification of a good speaker to be able to alter the height, as well as the strength and the tone of his voice, as occasion requires. Different species of speaking require different heights of voice. Nature instructs us to relate a story, to support an argument, to command a servant, to utter exclamations of


Subway tiles add a touch of color and shimmer to any kitchen, and subway tiles come in dozens of colors and are usually pretty easy on the budget, so creating an interesting and inviting kitchen backsplash gives you plenty of wow for your dollar.
For example, selecting a simple subway tile with a beveled edge for your kitchen backsplash introduces depth and dimension as the angled edges reflect light. Running your subway tiles in a vertical or herringbone pattern sets your kitchen apart and shows your specific style choice. Another style choice is to apply your subway tiles in a vertical stack creating clean modern lines for a sleeker look.
To add an interesting new feature to your existing kitchen and minimal cost, tuck an alcove between two studs, behind the range, then line it with different tile to create an eye catching feature that doubles as handy storage. Now you can keep your olive oil and regularly used spices close at hand, conveniently located behind the cooktop in a one-of-a-kind backsplash nook.
Create a welcoming warmth in the kitchen with a kitchen backsplash of relief pattern tiles. On the kitchen backsplash, a combination of flat matte, glazed or tumbled tiles intermixed with raised relief border tiles, invoke luxurious details that draws the eye and immediately makes one feel at home.
To create an old-world feel, around the range, an antique mantel can be transformed into a range hood, Using beveled edged subway tile in a herringbone pattern between the counters and cabinets creates a warmth that ultimately leads to an oversized inset detail tile beneath the hood. All together your kitchen will transport you back to old Italy.
And lastly we talked about the solid backsplash of either mirrored glass or painted glass. Either of these style choices help to make a smaller kitchen seem larger and are very easy to keep clean.
Although we have covered a lot of different options for your kitchen backsplash, there are probably three or four times as many options out there. The first step is to start the process. And the best way to do that is to look through some magazines and pull out photo of what you like and once you have a good idea of what style you are leaning toward, then it's time to call your trusted contractor to really get the ball rolling. Andy onCall® has skilled tile installers who can make your mini kitchen make-over a realty in a matter of a few short days.


This looks good, I like peanut butter and Lyn likes chocolate. What do I hear Lyn saying honey could you…..
For a decadent low-calorie dessert, check out this Peanut Butter Swirl Brownies recipe. Only 162 calories per serving, this treat uses reduced-calorie margarine, brown sugar, egg substitute, and 25% less-fat peanut butter.
Combine margarine and brown sugar in a medium bowl; add egg substitute. Beat with electric mixer on medium until thoroughly combined. Add vanilla; beat well.
Combine flour, baking powder and salt; add to sugar mixture, stirring well.
Divide batter in half. Stir cocoa into one half; stir peanut butter into other half. (Peanut butter mixture will be thick.
Spoon dollops of each batter alternately into a 9-inch square pan coated with cooking spray. Cut through batters in pan with a knife to create a swirled pattern. Bake at 350°F for 25 minutes or until a wooden stick inserted in center comes out clean.
Remove from oven, and let cool completely on a wire rack.
I remember as a kid we used to go to Auntie D's house to make pies. The adults, under her direction, would all be busy making pie after pie Apple, Blueberry, mixed berry…….. she was and still is in everyone's mind the measuring stick when it came to pies. Across the street there was a path in the woods, long since taken over by development, to the cranberry bogs and along the way was a gold mine of blueberry bushes. Big fat blueberries all there for the picking. Now this was the important job of the kids fill the buckets and eating our fill. The thought of one of her pies after dinner kept us under control and the buckets returned full. A few years back my wife and I went blueberry picking in Beebe Woods and quickly retreated because of the immediate and massive horse fly attack we fell to. That sure took the romanticism out of picking, there they were bushes, branches plump with hundreds of blueberries under the guard of a flying army. We did find the nearest convenient store and sprayed ourselves but it was just not the same. Anyway I babble…..Joe and I were talking about me buying 4 cases of blueberries from Wholefoods when they had them organic $1.99 a pint. I froze some, made some blueberry syrup, jam, Lyn made muffins and probably bread but mostly I would throw a handful in my morning oatmeal taking advantage of the memory boosting powers of blueberries. They are gone except for a bottle or two of the syrup and I am staring to have trouble remembering why I started writing this only kidding….so hear ya go Joe's Blueberry pie.
Cooks Illustrated Published July 1, 1995.
Makes one 9-inch pie, serving 6 to 8.
For many years we have tried using flour and cornstarch to thicken fresh fruit pies, but the results have been uniformly poor. After testing cornstarch, flour, tapioca, and arrowroot, we found that the samples of fruit thickened with the root starches, arrowroot and tapioca, were clear and bright in appearance and had the clearest fruit flavor. Of the two, tapioca showed a bit more thickening power and was therefore our favorite. So we developed a fruit pie recipe employing this favorite.
3. Remove dough from refrigerator; let stand at room temperature to soften slightly, about 10 minutes. Heat oven to 400 degrees. Toss fruit with sugar, lemon juice and zest, spices, and tapioca; let stand for 15 minutes.
When making our blueberry pie filling, we found that if we used more than 2 tablespoons of tapioca, the texture of the filling took on a gummy consistency we didn't like. But 2 tablespoons or less resulted in a filling that was too loose. Could we solve this problem with pectin, a gentle thickener that occurs naturally in fruit?
As expected, the pie thickened with tapioca alone was loose and soupy. But the pie thickened with tapioca plus an apple had a naturally gelled texture that was just right. The apple bits seemed to melt into the berry filling during baking, boosting fruity flavor but leaving no textural sign of their presence.
Pectin is a natural substance, found in fruits and vegetables, that creates structure in a plant by helping to bind its cell walls together. This same substance is used to thicken jams and jellies into a set, but soft, mass. Pectin content varies from fruit to fruit and also within a plant (more pectin is found in the skin of a fruit than in its flesh, for example). Apples are a great source of pectin because they contain high levels of high-methoxy pectin, the best natural pectin for making gels. By mashing some of the blueberries and grating the apple, we helped to release the pectin from the fruits' cell walls so that it could thicken the pie filling.
Pie filling thickened without enough tapioca won't firm up. But too much tapioca leads to gumminess.
A little tapioca plus a grated apple created a juicy but sliceable filling.
Lyn got to choose 2 of her meals that are not from her strict diet this week, she reached her half way goal and that is what they do for you at that point. Let you taste real food as she calls it. Heck, it is working, every week she losses a pound or more and that is the good way it stays off. Now I like her just the way she is but get a Yes Dear look if I say something. Anyway she chose Pan Seared Sea Scallops but whole foods also had Haddock on sale and while surfing the net she found this recipe. As I am not that adventurous when it comes to fish, Haddock should be fish and chips, swordfish and tuna steaks should be grilled, salmon well there are a lot of ways that my palate has been introduced to so when she showed me this recipe I said why not give it a try on Sunday. It was our pregame meal which turned out to be disappointing, the game not the meal this was light, flaky and just right.
Cut fish into 3 x 2-inch pieces. Rinse fish; pat dry with paper towels. Cover and chill until needed.
Preheat oven to 425 degrees F. Line a large baking sheet with foil; lightly coat with nonstick cooking spray; set aside.
For chips, pat potatoes dry with paper towels; place sweet potatoes in a large bowl. Add olive oil, Old Bay seasoning, 1/2 tsp. chili powder and 1/2 tsp. salt. Toss to coat. Arrange potatoes in a single layer on one half of the prepared baking sheet. Bake for 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, for fish, place milk in a shallow dish. Place flour in another shallow dish. In a third shallow dish combine bread crumbs, 2 tsp. chili powder, paprika, 1/4 tsp. each salt and pepper. Add melted butter; stir until combined.
Dip fish pieces in milk; coat with flour. Dip again in the milk, then in the bread crumb mixture. Remove baking sheet from oven. Using a spatula, carefully turn potatoes over. Place fish on the other half of the hot baking sheet; return to oven. Bake for 10 to 15 minutes more or until potatoes are golden brown and fish flakes easily with a fork. Serve fish with lemon wedges and fresh parsley, if desired.
Cut fish, prepare milk flour and bread crumbs. Place the sweet potato fries in oven on 1/2 cookie sheet.
Add the fish to the other half of cookie sheet and return to oven.
I know she got these out of a natural health magazine many years ago and that these are good, real good, that's all I will write. Smell the almond.
Blanch the almonds in boiling water for 45 seconds. Drain and rinse under cold running water, squeeze each almond to pop it out of its skin; transfer almonds to cookie sheet and toast in the oven for 8 minutes.
Sift the flour, baking soda, and salt together in a bowl.
In another bowl, whisk together maple syrup, almond butter, melted butter, vanilla and almond extracts and orange zest until smooth.
Fold the flour mixture into the almond butter mixture.
Form the dough into walnut sized balls. Place the balls 3 inches apart on the backing sheet and gently flatten into 1 ½ inch rounds. Press an almond into each cookie. Bake for 15 to 18 minutes, rotating the baking sheets halfway through for even baking. Transfer the cookies to a wire rack to cool until crisp.
Almonds are not nuts. In fact, an almond is the seed of the fruit of the almond tree. This tree bears fruits with a "stone-like" seed within.
When midsummer rolls in just before the birds and chipmunks decide that their buffet is ready we grab what we can and make one of our old time favorite's deserts, snack sometimes even breakfast. This has been one of our staples since 1991 the good thing is you choose the berries to change it up. I have tried nets and sprays but nothing really helps so with the berries, as with my garden the year before, I decided to share. If only they understood the concept. This year I only did a deck garden leaving the ground level for my herbs.
1. Wash and hull strawberries. Mash 1/4 of them with 3/4 cup of the sugar. Cut the rest in half or quarters. Combine mashed and cut up strawberries with raspberries and blackberries. Set aside.
2. Heat oven to 400 degrees. Butter and flour baking two 9″ cake pans. Combine flour, baking powder, salt, 1/4 cup sugar and orange zest. Cut butter into flour mixture until it resembles a coarse meal.
3. Stir in milk. Divide dough in half and put into pans with floured fingers.
4. Bake until lightly browned, about 15 minutes. Turn out onto racks.
5. Whip the cream with the remaining 2 Tbsp sugar until it holds soft peaks.
We used to pan fry our fish all the time placing an halved onion in the oil to absorb what we were told would be the fish odors. Then we slowly got healthier and were delighted when surfing the channels came upon Americas Test Kitchen and they were making this tried it and now it is a staple. We had baked fish before but it never really came out crispy or stuck to the fish. Who would have thought a skinny nerdy looking guy, Chris Kimball, would become one of my heroes although he does not seem to cook much, so I guess my real heroes are Julia, Bridget, Rebecca and the rest of the crew. He does pull it all together and I am sure he is a fine cook and not how he depicts himself on the show. Please keep inspiring and educating me.
Published September 1, 2008. From Cook's Illustrated.
Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 350 degrees. Pulse bread, melted butter, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper in food processor until bread is coarsely ground, eight 1-second pulses (you should have about 3 1/2 cups crumbs). Steve tweak: Use already prepared whole wheat or panko bread crumbs added salt and pepper and then melted butter. Transfer to rimmed baking sheet and bake until deep golden brown and dry, about 15 minutes, stirring twice during baking time (0-8 minutes using bread crumbs). Cool crumbs to room temperature, about 10 minutes. Transfer crumbs to pie plate; toss with parsley and shallot. Increase oven temperature to 425 degrees.
Place 1/4 cup flour in second pie plate. In third pie plate, whisk eggs, horseradish (if using), mayonnaise, paprika, cayenne pepper (if using), and 1/4 teaspoon black pepper until combined; whisk in remaining 5 tablespoons flour until smooth.
Spray wire rack with nonstick cooking spray and place in rimmed baking sheet. Dry fish thoroughly with paper towels and season with salt and pepper. Dredge 1 fillet in flour; shake off excess. Using hands, coat with egg mixture. Coat all sides of fillet with bread crumb mixture, pressing gently so that thick layer of crumbs adheres to fish. Transfer breaded fish to wire rack. Repeat with remaining 3 fillets.
4. Bake fish until instant-read thermometer inserted into centers of fillets registers 140 degrees, 18 to 25 minutes. Using thin spatula, transfer fillets to individual plates and serve immediately with lemon wedges.
1. Pulse: Processing fresh crumbs very coarsely maximizes crunch.
Steve tweak: Use already prepared whole wheat or panko bread crumbs added salt and pepper and then melted butter.
3. Dip: Thickening batter with flour and mayonnaise prevents toasted crumbs from turning soggy and glues them firmly to fish.
4. Coat: Pressing down gently on crumbs helps to pack thick layer on fish.
5. Elevate: Baking fish on a wire rack set inside baking sheet allows air to circulate underneath.


The National Endowment for the Arts had 174 employees in 2015 with an average pay (base salary + bonus) of $95,664.95. The most common occupation was miscellaneous administration and program, followed by information technology management. The most common payscale is General Schedule.
The most common payscale is General Schedule, which pays 84.48% of the employees in the National Endowment for the Arts. General Schedule is followed by Administratively Determined Rates, Not E, which pays 10.34% of employees.