Food and Power: the Science and Politics of What We Eat — Redefining Excellence: Learning Beyond Boundaries

By Katherine Hannon, Hackley School, Chair, Science Department

How do you make a burger that is only 20% meat? This was the challenge posed to students as they competed, Top Chef style, to make the tastiest burger containing mostly vegetable matter.

James O’Donnell, Education Manager at Stone Barns Center for Food and Agriculture, had been our guest educator for the week and this food lab was the culminating activity in our exploration of how to farm more sustainably. Students threw themselves into the role of Top Chef contestants as they talked up their choices of ingredients and why they plated the dish the way they did. The judges (James, myself, and my colleague, Ms Frasco) were amazed at how different each group’s burger turned out, yet we were so impressed by how good they were.

Hackley students at the Stone Barns Center for Food and Agriculture

Why does food matter? That is the overarching question of Hackley’s new course, Food and Power: the Science and Politics of What We Eat. It’s a question that is always relevant, but one that is made strikingly so in this time of coronavirus. For example, almost 30 million kids across the country benefit from the national school lunch program. With schools closed across the nation, the threat of food insecurity also increases.

But coronavirus aside, food matters because in this time of climate change, our food system is a significant contributor of greenhouse gases. Food waste in the United States alone contributes the equivalent of 37 million cars’ worth of greenhouse gas emissions. Access the news and you’re bound to come across an article about the future of food in the form of the Impossible Burger or Cricket Chips. Meanwhile, dairy producers and other agricultural producers are going bankrupt. Food matters because food and food systems are such an integral part of our lives, our economy, our health, and our culture. Food and Power explores those relationships.

An interdisciplinary class like this encourages students to make multiple connections within a single topic. Consider, for example, the myriad questions explored during our unit on fat. What is the difference between cooking with ghee and cooking with olive oil? What are their unique cultural histories? Is fat really bad for us? Is olive oil production really controlled by the mafia? One class found students honing their olive oil tasting skills. As they sampled several different oils, they learned how to swirl the sample container in their palm to warm the oil and release its aromas. Smelling and slurping came next. Students were taken aback by the spicy bite on the back of their throats that signified a high quality oil.

On the day we made pesto, students already knew the nutritional aspects and botanical histories of the various ingredients. They also knew how fat contributed to the dish. The cultural history of olive oil had been well explored, and students knew how to assess properties such as smoke point, taste, and state when selecting the correct fat to cook with. On that day, we also got a lot of surprise visitors. The smell of fresh basil wafted through the hallways, and people walking through the Johnson Center for Health and Wellness couldn’t help but follow their noses to our classroom.

Pasta-making in Hackley’s teaching kitchen

On Wednesday April 1st, the Food and Power class met for the first time since Spring Break, the first time since the coronavirus pandemic and social isolation had really hit home, and the first time virtually. While figuring out how to run a good chemistry class online had me stretched as a teacher, this one was easy. As usual, my problem was figuring out what to cut, as there were so many relevant discussion topics.

I began by posing this question: “What are all the different ways in which the coronavirus pandemic has affected our food system?” I sent my students to virtual break out rooms and, in small groups, they brainstormed lists. Empty store shelves, closed restaurants, grocery stores hiring hundreds of new employees, instacart workers striking due to unsafe working conditions, kids missing their free and reduced free lunch, delivery drivers busier than ever, farm-to-table farms struggling to sell their food…the answers went on and on.

Food is such an engaging topic because it is one to which people have deep, personal connections. Struffoli, kifli, and South African buttermilk rusks — these are just a few examples of the different dishes students chose to make at home and bring in to share with the class. As students explained why the food they prepared was meaningful to them, they often spoke of family. How they learned the recipe from a grandparent, or how it evoked memories of a particular holiday or family gathering. As part of the assignment, students also had to research the history of their dish, thus enhancing their appreciation for the food they loved.

First person accounts from a wide variety of farmers were also moving for my students, as they realized farming wasn’t just a career, it was a way of life, and that the reasons people farm, as well as who farms, are numerous and diverse. Sometimes the idea of our connection to food got flipped on its head. Why is it that grocery stores always start with the produce aisles? Why is dairy and meat found in the back? Why do certain products get eye-level shelving? The science behind getting consumers to buy more is deep, and students explored the way in which things as seemingly innocent as the layout of a store can affect what and how much we buy.

Potato chip tastings were another class favorite. As students sampled various chips, noticing the differences in crunch, taste and texture, they also explored the psychology that keeps us reaching for the bag. In these instances, it might be something other than ourselves that is influencing our food choices.

When I asked my students for feedback about the class, here is what one of them said, although most of my students echoed the same themes:

The most meaningful thing about Food and Power was being able to turn what we were learning about in class to hands-on activities, whether it was planting seeds in our garden, going on field trips to learn about the everyday life of a farmer and how they coexist with nature around them, or cooking in the classroom and experimenting with different flavors and consistencies. Food and Power was a great class because we were always able to try new things in our classroom and switch up the way we were learning each unit. Rather than a lecture-style class or only doing worksheets, we were able to have meaningful discussions with our classmates about the topic we were focusing on and learn how our units connected to each other.

As an educator, teaching a class like Food and Power at a school like Hackley is infinitely rewarding. I consider myself so lucky to get to grapple with the questions surrounding food systems along with my students. And my students have been amazing. They have been all-in from day one. Whether sifting through dirt while analyzing soil, visiting a fifth-generation family orchard or learning about grasshoppers as a popular dish, their interest and enthusiasm has been endless.