The term Rastafarian invokes a whole lot of cultural associations - primarily reggae, dreads and those baggy tri-colored hats - but ‘natural eating’ likely isn’t one of them. Yet the Ital (pronounced ‘eye-tal’, as in ‘eye-talian’) diet is as important to the traditional Rasta lifestyle as the famous ganja use or Babylon and Zion, its focus on fresh, basic ingredients exemplifying the movement’s back-to-the-land approach. Impressively forward thinking, the group’s original 1930s regimen prized purity over processed ingredients: substituting sea for table salt, fresh produce for canned, eliminating dried, pickled or otherwise preserved foods. This doubled as a rejection of the Western values early proponents saw as corroding traditional Jamaican culture, and jibes with the religion’s separatist bent, heavily inspired by Marcus Garvey’s Pan-African philosophy. Early Rastas sought to slough off the shackles of a colonial system by looking toward role models other than their reviled British overlords, landing most singularly on Ethiopian king Haile Selassie, who became viewed as a quasi-deity. This meant the rejection of imported convenience products and modern chemicals and a renewed focus on the fruits of their own island - fruit, vegetables and fish - while introducing health foods like tofu and soymilk, which in the early days of the movement were produced by Rastas themselves, befitting their interest in rustic self-sufficiency.
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Following a recent visit to the Bronx Zoo, I ventured into the wilds of Van Nest, a small, diverse neighborhood just outside the southeast gate. The western fringe of this area, dominated by the Cross Bronx Expressway and the city’s last remaining stretch of NYW&B tracks, seems to firmly prove Jane Jacobs’ theory of border vacuums, a depressed stretch of boundary wasteland marring the appearance of a place better known as the childhood home of Regis Philbin and Stokely Carmichel, and which boasts what may be the most ornate station in the subway system, or at least the one most resembling the property of a Spanish landowner.
Mass market mineral waters like Perrier and San Pellegrino act as a high-end counterpart to artificially carbonated seltzers and club sodas, their naturally occurring fizz and smattering of calcium connoting freshness and vitality. It’s therefore easy to forget that the drink’s original focus wasn’t elegant thirst quenching but health, with most of the major brands originating as bainological boutique products from 18th century spa towns. Case in point is Russian mineral water Yessentuki, which like its French cousin Vichy, focuses more on its healing powers than any refreshing qualities, pretty much necessary since it tastes like salt water. It basically is salt water, although this isn’t just any salinous stuff scooped straight from the ocean, it’s a magnesium rich mineral broth prized for its supposedly salutary properties. This brand claims that the spring from which it’s drawn has uniquely restorative abilities, growing hair on the head of a sickly bald child, thus explaining the name of the river and surrounding town, which means ‘living hair.’ The bottle was mistakenly purchased at a Georgian bakery in Sheepshead Bay - I thought it was this elusive tarragon soda - and no, I did not actually drink the entire thing.
Photographed in front of Edgar Allen Poe's former home on Grand Concourse: one can of Mr. Brown iced coffee. Produced in Taiwan, now using milk from New Zealand after getting tangled up in China's 2008 melamine scandal, these little coffee drinks taste like a sort of muddy take on the glass bottle Frappucino, with a mascot who bears a striking resemblance to 'Big Daddy' from "The Simpsons' Spinoff Showcase."
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The coded language of snacks, sandwiches and seasonings, in NYC and beyond.
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