"600 words by Esther J. Cepeda"

Postcard from Ecuador

“600 Words by Esther J. Cepeda”

 

Hi everyone,

 

I am in Ecuador, smack dab in the middle of world and having a wonderful time... ahhhh... researching, yes, that's what we journalists call it.

 

There's so much to say about the scene here: I was full-body scanned upon entering the country in order to determine my health as the AH1N1flu scare is going strong across Latin America.

 

It's been rainy and dreary, and the wall-to-wall Michael Jackson coverage has eclipsed the presidential corruption scandal (Rafael Correa, whose brother denounced him openly in the media here), the big flu tally in Brazil (74 confirmed), and the mess in Honduras (I'm disappointed the White House Press Office has completely dropped talking about the Zelaya situation in favor of the admittedly critical talks with Russia, the G8 meeting, and this emerging China situation).

 

But my mind has been on other things: So far, I have traveled to the center of the Earth and hopped from the northern to the southern hemisphere, I've traversed several roaring rapids via suspension bridge and base jumped off of one of them - twice. 

 

            

 

I've climbed multiple mountain peaks, scaled several rock faces next to waterfalls, visited a farm, seen Quito's first newspaper printing presses, and eaten lots of cool stuff, though not the cuy (guinea pig) pictured here - my adventurous nature goes only so far. 

 

There's much to talk about but, frankly, this respite from the United States is doing me a world of good. See you sometime next week!

 

-Esther

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Post Script ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

July 15, 2009:

 

I've returned stateside refreshed and invigorated, and just damned happy to be back in the most beautiful city in the world.

 

I didn't go so far as to kiss the ground when I walked out of O'Hare, but I was darned happy to have made it back with nothing more than a few minor bruises from falling 50 feet down the side of a steep volcano cliff into a cold river.

 

   

 

Also, to add to the above list, I rode horse up and down the side of a volcano, traversed several very long rope bridges across angrily roiling rivers swelled from the seemingly constant rain, rode a dune buggy through a busy downtown square (at night), ate shrimp freshly plucked from the sea, threw myself off a suspension bridge (twice) over a rocky river, hiked in the jungle, covered my face in mud and drank mineral water straight out of a puddle in the ground.

 

A few things I learned while in Ecuador:

 

1) The culture is laid-back, like REALLY laid back and if you have a Type-A personality, you'll be a tad frustrated while there. For example, like most restaurants and stores, Mc Donald's doesn't open until 9:30 or 10 am and closes about 12 hours later. Sundays are particularly tough to find anything open.

 

2) There is no such thing as coffee "To Go." And if you want it, let's say, at any time before your food arrives, or during the eating, you'd better ask for it as their custom is to deliver coffee at the very end of any given meal. Consider asking for two at a time if you require more than 4 ounces of regular brew at any sitting.

 

3) Gosh those Ecuadorians love the animated cartoon "The Simpsons"! So much so that they show it many times a day, and several times in a row. The show has become such a consuming passion that today the government is considering censoring it because it is inappropriate for families and may be damaging the populace's brains. Oh, and also, the translation voice-overs are spot-on but when there is singing, the singing is not translated and occurs in English.

 

4) It was my experience that the cities of Quito, Machachi, Ambato, Banos, Guayaquil, and Salinas are gorgeous, very safe, and filled with extremely nice people who are, frankly, just happy you're there to visit. The natural wonders are wonderful indeed...there's just no getting tired of looking at the mountains, the waterfalls, or the wide and diverse variety of stray dogs who seem to troll every street in a friendly, non-threatening way. (They don't, however, respond favorably to cookies as they are so unaccustomed to being offered such, ahhh, domesticated fare).

 

5) There is no shortage of newspapers: broadsheets, tabloids, digests, you name it. There are at least 3 national dailies and several local rags to pick from on any given streetcorner and lest you think that this is because there is no internet, forget it. There are internet cafe's (an hour costs 80 cents) on nearly every street corner as well, and every newspaper has all the social media tools like Facebook and Twitter firing on all cylinders, as evidenced by their mastheads. 

 

So there it is - Ecuador in a nutshell. And what a very deliciously nutty place it is!

 

Chicago Latino List 2009 - Jose Oliva, Restaurant Worker Sentinel

“600 Words by Esther J. Cepeda”

What Jose Oliva wants you to know is simple. It has to do with the people who cook your food, serve your food, and bus your tables at your favorite restaurant.

 

These fine people who nourish and cater to your dining needs – whether they be teenage girls from Wilmette, middle-aged immigrants from El Salvador, or your next door neighbor whose husband left her to fend for herself and her kids – these fine people have it rough.

 

Like a $2.13 Federal minimum wage for servers who make tips, rough.

 

Like no basic job benefits such as “paid time off,” rough.

And folks – even for the people who are just thankful to even have a job in this economy, that’s pretty damned rough.

 

Oliva, a 36-year-old Policy Coordinator with Restaurant Opportunities Centers United, is working to change that.

 

“Most people think that all restaurant workers make the well-known federal minimum wage and have sick and personal days, but they definitely don’t,” Oliva told me. “They have the Federal Family Medical Leave Act, which is extended un-paid time off, but if the President says ‘stay home if you don’t feel well’ in response to a Swine Flu epidemic, well, that’s just not an option.”

 

A Guatemala native who immigrated to the U.S. at the age of 13, Oliva is working on two major pieces of legislation, the Healthy Families Act, which would require businesses with 15 or more employees to provide up to seven days of paid sick leave each year. And an increase in the Federal tipped minimum wage of $2.13 (Illinois’ is a more robust $4.65, but still).

 

“It’s been 18 years since this dollar amount was set and the real egregious part of it is that this group has been literally singled out,” Oliva said. “It just doesn’t make any sense, there’s no reason for it to stay the same for almost 20 years.”

 

And it’s a pretty big group. Oliva says Chicago has the second largest number of restaurant workers in the country, over 250,000 (only Los Angeles has more) and, of course, one of the largest Latino immigrant communities in the country. “However, neither have direct, full and democratic representation in the economic and political life of our country,” Oliva says.

 

“The influence of the National Restaurant Association as a lobby, for instance, is about the 17th most influential in Congress (according to Forbes Magazine). Meanwhile restaurant workers have no one to speak to their issues and advocate on their behalf. This holds special weight when you factor in that most restaurant workers are immigrants in Chicago and that immigrants have a similar handicap in as far as voice in DC is concerned.”

 

Well, those particular restaurant workers have Jose Oliva. And he’s doing two things:

 

1) He’s working on re-establishing a memorandum of understanding on immigration enforcement so no immigration raids would occur at a worksite where the employees were already engaged in any other activity – like a complaint with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission against their employer – “so an employer can’t just call for a raid to get rid of the problem workers and then suffer no ramifications even though he was the one breaking the law in the workplace.”

 

2) He’s educating workers on their rights, and on how to band together to help each other fight for better working conditions and more opportunities.

 

“In essence what we need to do is to demystify the legislative process, we need to make sure ordinary people  who go to work feel they have a voice in government or in the companies where they work,” Oliva says. “The only way they can have that voice is to band together on common issues and that voice is magnified only if you take it to the power and speak in unison.”

 

His legislative action sensibility is what sets him apart from others who focus just on the workplace organizing – not that Oliva is a slouch in that department, he trained at the Organizing Institute at Midwest Academy with Jackie Kendall a nationally-known trainer now known for her work with President Obama.

 

“I methodically and scientifically gather workers’ stories for national reports and take it to DC,” Oliva said. “We’re not a union, not just a community organization, we’re a hybrid. We don’t just do rallies in DC, we do both and we’re trying to become a pioneer for organizations treading a new path.”

 

“All workers are interconnected,” Oliva said. “So to the extent you raise the conditions in one place, others follow and raise their wages and conditions. That’s how capitalism works. You have to raise wages; that teenager in Des Moines, Iowa will be positively affected by our work across the country, not just Chicago.”

“Chicago Latino List 2009” was generously sponsored by the Chicago Sinfonietta, the Chicago White Sox, and Lettuce Entertain You Enterprises Restaurants. All nominees were independently nominated for this recognition; their rejection and/or selection to “Chicago Latino List 2009” was not, in any way, influenced by any disclosed or undisclosed personal or professional proximity to Esther J. Cepeda or to any sponsor of “Chicago Latino List 2009”.

Esther J. Cepeda writes the "600 Words" & "Pregunta del Dia" columns, and is also the Chief Marketing and Communications Officer for the Illinois Student Assistance Commission. Her views and reporting do not necessarily reflect those of ISAC. "600 words" is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com

Where in Chicago is Ecuador?

"600 Words by Esther J. Cepeda"

I’m taking a look at the presence of Ecuador in Chicago because in less than one month, Ecuador will find a piece of Chicago in it.

That’s right, I’m going to miss out on the barbecue and the fireworks (my first 4th of July outside the U.S.) because I’ll be travelling to the "Center of the World" with no itinerary and no reservations, just a rumpled piece of paper my aunt gave me last week at a family picnic with some long-lost uncle’s email and phone number. And I haven’t been there since I was four.

The plan is to land at Mariscal Sucre International Airport and let my stomach and eyes lead the way to the peaks of the Andes mountains, the monument to the Center of the World – where one can straddle the southern and northern hemispheres at once – and the Galapagos Islands – celebrating the 200th anniversary of Charles Darwin’s "Origin of Species" – in no particular order. In a two-week time period, not including en-route stops to Miami and Panama.

So my first natural instinct (once I realized I’m less than 30 days from this trip I’ll literally pack for in twenty minutes time) was to look at my own birth place for insight.

According to the Chicago Community Trust’s Latino Landscape 2008, Chicago is home to 18,796 Ecuadorians who make up 1.09% of Chicago’s Hispanic community (these numbers are from 2006). We are the fifth largest national-origin group in Chicago behind Mexico, Puerto Rico, Guatemala, and Cuba.

My dad was part of the first wave in 1965–1976 (though he came from Quito via Mexico City where he’d lived for several years) who came and worked mainly in factories, retail and service industries and a second wave arrived in the 1990’s, frequently to join family, and to work in the restaurant, hotel, and garment industries.

Like the majority of Ecuadorians in Chicago, my half-Ecuadorian-half-Mexican family lived on the Northwest side – in Logan Square, Albany Park, Uptown, Lakeview, Irving Park, Belmont Cragin, Edgewater, and West Ridge – which, not surprisingly, is where all of the Ecuadorian restaurants in Chicago can be found.

One thing no one will tell you about Ecuadorians is that though they are intelligent, generous, and kind, they are also incredibly flighty! They are internationally-known for their tardiness, and in fact, Ecuador tried a campaign to eradicate "unpunctuality" but it flopped. And their government, well, let’s just say their new, University of Illinois-educated president Rafael Correa has now been around longer than many other presidents past.

Just as a quick example, I tried to call the office of the Ecuadorian Consul General in Chicago to verify the stats I cite here and none of the four phone numbers listed on various search engines and Ecuador-centric web pages actually worked. Tsk-tsk.

But we’re here, by golly, and in a few weeks I’ll be there.

I’ve already researched the fine points of the bull-penis soup and roasted guinea pig dishes I’ll surely confront in the local restaurants (though I’ll stop in a McDonald’s to see if everyone there eats Big Macs like my cousins do when they visit here: in layers starting from the top down!).

And I logged onto Tu Babel, the on-line regional Spanish dictionary to refresh myself on all the Ecuadorian-specific slang I grew up with in my grandmother’s house that I’ve since forgotten (I still get to hear "achachai!" every once in a while from my dad when he gets cold, but other words – like "canguil" for popcorn and "guagua" for child – will jar me into nostalgia).

So, I’m pretty much all set; now all I need is for any of the 18,796 Chicago-dorians to tell me where to go (or where to stay away from) while I find the other half of myself at the center of the world.

 

UPDATE: This came to me at 7:30am 6/11/09 from the White House Office of the Press Secretary:

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

June 11, 2009

 

Statement by the Press Secretary on the President’s call with President Rafael Correa of Ecuador

 

The President spoke with President Correa yesterday to congratulate him on his recent reelection and to commend the people of Ecuador for their commitment to democracy.  The President stated his desire to deepen our bilateral relationship and to maintain an ongoing dialogue that can ensure a productive relationship based on mutual respect.  President Obama expressed his support for a vibrant democracy in Ecuador that includes a free and independent press as the means of promoting human prosperity, security and dignity, which are important goals for both of our countries and for the people of the Americas.

Esther J. Cepeda writes the "600 Words" & "Pregunta del Dia" columns, and is also the Chief Marketing and Communications Officer for the Illinois Student Assistance Commission. Her views and reporting do not necessarily reflect those of ISAC. "600 words" is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com

Tempest in a taco shell – the Mexi-centric fast food blues

"600 Words by Esther J. Cepeda"

If you know me at all, you know I like to eat. A lot. My runs to the Taco Bell border are legendary – don’t get me started on the cinnamon twists, we’ll be here all night.

And so in that vein, I bring you some fast foodie news, one involving a pathetic and cowardly caving to political correctness and another violating the sanctity of two all-beef patties!

Exhibit A:

Burger King’s pathetic caving to lunatic political correctness.

Here’s the recap; so, according to The Nation’s Restaurant News, a restaurant industry trade paper, Burger King sells a thing called "the Texican Whopper" in Europe. It’s a flame-grilled patty topped with chile-con-carne, spicy jalapenos, onion, crispy lettuce and Cajun mayonnaise on a sesame seed bun, but that wasn’t the controversial part.

BK created an ad campaign featuring – gasp!!! – a tall "American cowboy" next to a midget (oops, I meant to say "little person") lucha libre wrestler with a Mexican flag cape.

Long-story-short (if you’ll pardon the pun – I just couldn’t resist!) Mexican ambassador to Spain Jorge Zermeno – who clearly hasn’t been to ANY lucha libre matches because he’d see all manner of tall and tiny luchadores wearing Mexican flag underwear, capes, masks, etc. – complained about the ads denigrating Mexico’s national image and improperly using Mexico’s national flag.

O.K., so I guess no more girlies wearing Mexican flag thong bikinis at Cinco De Mayo celebrations, huh? Darn.

But, I’m not going to complain about Jorge "I’ve got a stick up my butt" Zermeno, it’s his job to defend his mother country’s honor, ahem, abroad.

Nope, I reserve my disgust for Burger King – they’re cowards to bow to the pressure of a humorless bureaucrat. Their PR flacks released a statement Tuesday that said the commercials "were not intended to offend anyone." Duh.

It further stated: "Burger King Corp. values and respects all of its guests as well as the countries and communities we serve…With regard to the Texican Whopper advertisement shown in Spain and the United Kingdom, it was our intention to promote a product whose culinary origin lies in both the American and Mexican cultures, and was meant to appeal to those who enjoy the flavors and ingredients that each country offers."

Apparently Burger King will, from now on, appeal only to those who cannot bear to laugh at Mexican midgets who dress up in their country’s flags to make money off people who come out to laugh at them.

What’s this world coming to?

 Exhibit B: Darn that Jim Skinner, what the heck is he doing to my Big Mac’s honor? Doesn’t he know wrapping it in a flour tortilla is going to make the racists hate Mexicans even more?!?!?!

O.K., so it’s not quite that serious. But, if you hadn’t heard, according to Advertising Age magazine, our pals at Oakbrook-based McDonald’s are testing the "Snack Wrap Mac," a half –beef-patty, with lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions that’s smothered in "special sauce" and wrapped in a flour tortilla. For a buck-forty-nine.

Huh?

Why would they do this? And, more importantly, why can’t I get one?

Of the 400 of the chain's 14,000 locations who get to take the new snack for a spin, our neighbors in Wisconsin, and those crazy Texas Hustonians get to feast their tastebuds on the Big tortilla-clad Mac but Chicago doesn’t get to take a taste test – that’s just plain loco.

Note to Jim Skinner: like the geniuses who combined peanut butter and chocolate, you might just have created my newest taste treat sensation by mixing my Taco Bell needs with my Mac daddy love…so let me at it, already.

Perhaps a trip to the Oak Brook McLaboratory for a quickie taste?

Esther J. Cepeda writes the "600 Words" & "Pregunta del Dia" columns, and is also the Chief Marketing and Communications Officer for the Illinois Student Assistance Commission. Her views and reporting do not necessarily reflect those of ISAC. "600 words" is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com

A meditation on spring

"600 Words by Esther J. Cepeda"

Finally, this morning it clicked - it’s no longer January.

Though technically it’s been spring for several weeks, three bouts of snow disagreed with the printed calendar. Every morning has been a cold, dark slog and rather than being a time of renewal – all pastel colored Easter baskets and jewel-toned tulips – it’s been a time of reusing and recycling. Recycling February and March’s weather, to be specific.

But today the sun came up like a piece of bronzed bread popping up out of the cosmic toaster and all the gloom that had overtaken me yesterday – as I walked, in the wet wind, over to UIC’s campus for Emmanuel Rosenberg’s discussion about his book "The Anatomy of Buzz" – simply fell away and I’m now on a vacation of the brain.

Tranquility, while good for the soul, really is bad for the journalist. After all, what’s an opinion leader to say when everything’s coming up roses?

This morning as I let the sun burn my eyeballs (I can still see the blue spots in the middle of my vision) its warmth melted away all my worldly concerns.

• No more angst over whether the immigrant tragedy at Binghamton, NY was given adequate or proper media attention…I contacted several immigrant and refugee groups and none of them dared give an on-the-record comment, instead pointing to Obama’s G20 appearance, and the Final Four as adequate reasons for the mainstream media to have effectively ignored the country’s most violent tragedy since the Virginia Tech shootings in 2007 which garnered wall-to-wall coverage in broadcast and print for what seemed like an eternity. So why complain? At least those poor immigrants’ families weren’t exploited in the name of higher per-copy sales and cable ratings. Err, I mean "journalism."

• No desire to throw stones over this morning’s report that Hispanic pre-schoolers are more likely than their white and black counterparts to be obese (See AP reporter Lindsey Tanner’s story here). Yeah, Latinos need to get their head’s out of their tacos asados and realize that we are killing our children with our terrible eating habits, stunning ignorance on health matters, and our refusal to take responsibility for exercising our own bodies away from Type 2 diabetes. But, hey, I guess we’ll have to tackle that after the Easter morning chocolate bunnies and chocolate-covered marshmallows are scarfed down as a prelude to the Sunday night ham and maybe mami will make me a flan.

• Heck I won’t even linger on the fact that Easter was always one of those sore-spot holidays in my life. Why? Duh! Because people would call me "Easter" all the time in what they considered a novel way to mispronounce my name. Like it wasn’t bad enough that I spent my entire life having my name misspelled by the "H" omission. Sheesh! I will say this, I’ve lightened up on this point and one year someone sent me the "Esther Bunny" which I share with you here in hopes that you can enjoy making fun of me as much I now enjoy laughing at myself.

Happy Spring Break, Passover, Easter, Oestre, Furry Rabbit Night, or whatever other excuse you’ll use to celebrate with friends and family.

The art of the up-sell: Why Starbucks will survive and thrive during downturn

"600 Words by Esther J. Cepeda"

I'm not a Starbucks aficionado. I can never remember the secret code-names they have for small, medium, and large; I couldn't tell the difference between a macchiato and a mocha if one of them grew fangs and bit me.

But a recent commitment to a tastier decaffeinated lifestyle got me stopping by for decaf Americanos, which even I – Starbucks troglodyte that I am – can tell you is a shot of espresso and hot water.

Then the decaf lattes won me over, too, and all of a sudden I was waist-deep into a case study of the familiar-to-everyone-but-me international mega-brand, that elicited mocking sniggers a few months back when it announced that it had to resort to closing stores because of sagging sales.

Those sagging sales – they've reported a 10 percent drop in same-store sales, are closing nearly 1,000 shops and cutting at least 7,000 jobs – can be blamed on everything from too many store openings to consumers who, fearful of the economic downturn, are pinching their pennies.

But Starbucks has nothing to worry about because they seem to have mastered two things that are completely intertwined and completely lacking everywhere I go, which is bugging the heck out of me. Those magical qualities are good customer service and its fraternal twin: good selling.

First off, at every single Starbucks I've ever been to in the last year I was warmly greeted as though I was a regular. And the people in line with me who clearly were regulars were greeted by name and asked about their regular order: "Are you having an unetto or duetto large Fancy-Double-Half-Caff (or whatever their called) today?"

"And would you like a chocolate cupcake?" asks the cashier-ista, "Anything else?"

This is what is going to keep Starbucks rolling in dough regardless of what the stock market does: they're reallllllllly nice to the people who walk into their store to spend money on them. And they upsell, upsell, upsell.

I can not tell you how much it bothers me to go to my favorite sit-down taco joint – that same place I've been going to several times a month for years and years – and the waitresses never register that I'm there all the time. And at the end of my meal, never once, have they asked if I wanted dessert.

Guess what? I always want dessert. And I always have to turn the check away and ask for my flan. Every time.

Same thing at my favorite pizza place – I'm there nearly every Saturday night of my life and have been for a decade. Though the waiters and waitresses know my order and exactly how I liked my baby stuffed served, they never ask if I want dessert.

(Eli’s cheesecake. Plain. Yes, plain as in no nothin’ on top.)

Contrast that to my weekly Sunday trip to Jewel, where the cashiers don't know me from Adam's off aunt yet never fail to offer me the super-duper-mega-buy. And sometimes, by golly, I'm strolling outta that grocery store with ten bags of Cheddar Chex Mix (I couldn't afford not to!).

I keep seeing these apocalyptic news stories in the paper, in business magazines, and on TV about how bad it is out there…how people have stopped spending out of fear and there's just no money to buy anything, and the sky is falling.

That's not what I heard from the middle-aged woman who was in one suburban Starbucks location late last week. She was letting the barista chat her up, even though it was morning rush, because she wanted to know if the store was hiring.

"You know, I've been out of work for nearly a year now and I just can't find anything," she told the milk-steaming-coffee-slinger, who lamented that they had no openings.

"It's never been like this before – usually I could find at least something part-time, but gosh, things are so tough out there," the woman who was known by all the store's staff as Sally, said, cradling a huge four-dollar whip-cream-topped confection.

She'd been offered a cinnamon scone but declined on the grounds of her waistline. I suspect that the next day when Sally stopped by for her usual fix she was offered that three dollar scone again – and didn't make it out of the store for less than eight bucks.

Here’s the customer insight for every single business person who makes their living off of selling something in any way (and this is a freebie, I'm waving my three-hundred-dollar an hour consulting fee): be nice and make the extra offer.

In fact, the more I think of it…the more I think a chocolate cupcake will go well with my decaf Americano tomorrow morning.

Esther J. Cepeda writes the "600 Words" & "Pregunta del Dia" columns, and is also the Chief Marketing and Communications Officer for the Illinois Student Assistance Commission. Her views and reporting do not necessarily reflect those of ISAC. "600 words" is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com

Eli’s Presidential cheesecake trumps Mexi-feast’s world record

"600 Words by Esther J. Cepeda"

When I saw the Associated Press’ story yesterday about the world’s biggest cheesecake in Mexico, I hit the roof! Then I immediately blew in a call…

"Hello, this is Marc," said Mr. Schulman, president of The Eli's Cheesecake Company, a temple of mine.

I asked him how, how! could he let those wacky, tamale-slingin’, tequila swillin’ Mexicans beat us out of the Guinness Book of World Record’s world’s largest cheesecake designation. Wasn’t it our birthright?

"Yes, we take a lot of pride in our cheesecakes and we definitely took notice of Sunday’s record," Marc told me on the phone earlier today.

The south of the border pastel de queso was cooked up by both the fine folks at Northfield, IL-based Chicago food giant Kraft Foods, Inc. – presumably to hook the Mexican masses on the deep joys of a finely baked graham-cracker-crumbed cake – and one Chef Miguel Angel Quezada.

He told the fine folks at the AP that "55 cooks spent 60 hours making the world's biggest cheesecake — a 2-ton calorie bomb topped with strawberries." It took nearly a ton of cream cheese, a ton of yogurt, 772 pounds of pastry, 551 pounds of sugar and 331 pounds of butter and yielded 20,000 slices of cakes for the citizens of Mexico City.

Mere child’s play!

Lest you think your Eli’s Corps. was somehow sleeping on the job when the Mexican cheesecake orgy went down, nothing could be farther from the truth. They were busy…

"We were recovering from making a special cheesecake for the Presidential inauguration," Schulman said, admitting the Mexican Kraft promo seemed to come out of left field. "It was 500 pounds and if it had been any bigger, we wouldn’t have been able to get it through the door of the National Building Museum [for the Commander in Chief Ball]."

As noted on CNN, the Ball "was started by President Bush and it's really to honor the members of the armed services, the military troops, the spouses of deployed soldiers are here, the spouses of former soldiers are here. It's a free ball for the military troops. About 2,000 troops are expected here. President Obama is expected to speak here just before 10:00 tonight and that will actually be broadcast on the Pentagon channel to all of the military bases overseas."

The actual cake, seen here in it’s pre-eaten glory, took 100 pounds of cream cheese, 30 pounds of sugar, 25 pounds of sour cream, 126 eggs, 50 pounds of Michigan apples – for an Abraham Lincoln-themed apple layer- and 30 pounds of butter.

It was cooked in specially-made 42-inch diameter pans then assembled complete with a chocolate inaugural seal topping and decorated with the seals of the five military branches, then finished in royal blue fondant, a wave of red and white stripes and gold and white stars. The whole thing was made to feed 3,000 Purple Heart recipients and military families with yummy leftovers for a local food bank.

So yeah, Eli’s was a little distracted by, oh, MAKING HISTORY! to worry about some publicity stunt in a place better known for their pastel de tres leches (three milks cake) than for their steak dinner topper.

Still, there’s braggin’ rights to consider, so I inquired about a possible future cross-border, international-incident-inducing cheesecake smackdown.

"Well, we’re doing a little more research to see if theirs was a baked cake," Schulman said, "but either way we’re definitely looking into it."

Esther J. Cepeda writes the "600 Words" & "Pregunta del Dia" columns, and is also the Chief Marketing and Communications Officer for the Illinois Student Assistance Commission. Her views and reporting do not necessarily reflect those of ISAC. "600 words" is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com

A new American food agenda: regulate food stamp usage

"600 Words by Esther J. Cepeda"

News flash: as expected, the economic downturn and rise in gas and food prices has goosed the number of people receiving food stamps – nearly 1.4 million Illinoisans in November alone, according to our friends at the Associated Press.

Consider this: we have an obesity epidemic sweeping our nation with children as young as five becoming the newest victims of weight-controllable Type-2 diabetes.

What if, once economic woes stabilized, President Obama decided to put health and nutrition policy in the spotlight? What if he made one simple change that would affect the health and well-being of millions and millions of people?

What if he simply changed the rules for what a person can and can't buy with food stamps?

If the fight against hunger went hand in hand with the fight against obesity and obesity-related diseases like heart disease, Type 2 diabetes and high blood pressure, the country would be a fitter place.

Think about it: right now, nearly 30 million children and adults receive assistance from the Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) – the new name for the federal Food Stamp Program since last October – and there are precious few restrictions on what can be bought with them.

For instance, the Women Infant Children (WIC) program provides mothers who meet the income requirements with vouchers specifically for milk, eggs, cheese, cereals and staples such as peanut butter and pure fruit juices.

But once the children in the household get up above toddler age and the family relies solely on food stamps, its open season. Fruit Loops, Cheetos, Pop Tarts, frozen pizzas, hotdogs? Sure!

According to SNAP guidelines, breads/cereals, fruits and vegetables, meats/fish/poultry and dairy products are fine. Even seeds and plants which produce food for the household are allowable, but as you can see, those are very broad categories.

Of course, any form of tobacco, booze, pet foods, household supplies and prepared foods that can be eaten in the store are prohibited but everything else is perfectly allowable.

And I can tell you from personal experience, that you could inflict some severe malnutrition on a family by stocking the fridge with SNAP-approved beef jerky, bologna, pizza rolls, frozen waffles, potato chips and whipped cream.

To be fair, it's really hard not to buy non-perishables such as boxes of instant mac n' cheese and cans of Chef Boyardee ravioli over fresh fruit and vegetables because they're so cheap comparatively, and won't spoil in the fridge.

But that's the other thing: food stamp recipients are not counseled on sound nutrition basics, not only do they not understand that frozen fruits and vegetables are nearly as nutritionally sound as fresh, but they also don't get why Doritos are not healthy for their and their children's bodies.

Yes, I know intake counselors and case workers are stretched to their limits as it is, but that's why the food stamp program needs to be seen by the incoming administration as not just the "food safety net" but also as an opportunity to shape how the poorest among us understand their dietary needs and a chance to teach them how to take control over their own well-being through healthier food choices.

As it stands now, a family of four can get up to $588 a month for groceries through the program. That's not much. But imagine the bang-for-the-nutritional-buck if there was a master list of certain types of foods that were not allowable for purchase with the electronic SNAP debit card; not things such as cake mixes and frostings such as a family might purchase for a birthday or other special occasion, but items such as snack bars which are effectively cookie and candy bars disguised as misleadingly "healthy" granola bars.

Much is made of what sorts of life skills the poorest among us need to thrive in this country including financial literacy and computer literacy – throw nutritional literacy on the pile and we stand a better chance at more, ahem, well-rounded citizens.

Esther J. Cepeda writes the "600 Words" & "Pregunta del Dia" columns, and is also the Chief Marketing and Communications Officer for the Illinois Student Assistance Commission. Her views and reporting do not necessarily reflect those of ISAC. "600 words" is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com

Ode to a beermonger: Heileman’s Old Style beer distributor dead

"600 Words by Esther J. Cepeda"

The man who made my father happy is dead.

William P. Schirmang, the beer monger who popularized Heileman’s Old Style in Chicago – and in casa Cepeda – passed away November 13, according to the obituary in today’s Chicago Sun Times.

Apparently, a decade before my mom and dad moved to Chicago, Old Style beer was virtually unheard of here. By the time I was old enough to be sent to the fridge to fetch a cold one, Schirmang had wheedled his beer out of his car trunk, and into Wrigley Field, not to mention the hearts of beer drinkers across town.

Schirmang ultimately brought over 2 million cases of Lacrosse, Wisconsin’s finest to Chicago through the 70’s, when it became a symbol of America in my refrigerator.

Now, most white people think that Mexican’s love Corona. I can’t even say that word in my father’s presence without eliciting a groan. Nope, depending on what part of Mexico you hail from, it’s all about the Tecate, the Negro Modelo, Carta Blanca, Bohemio. Whatever those tasted like, there must have been some whiff of nostalgia to be consumed along with the OS upon popping the keyhole shaped tab.

I loved staring at the beautiful, artfully cryptic can but to my six-year old palate, it was super yucky. On one of innumerable runs to the fridge – I recall it being a sunny, but not hot day – to retrieve the beloved beverage which was to accompany two salted, hard-boiled eggs, I begged for a sip of what was made out to me to be some sort of magical elixir.

I couldn’t spit it out fast enough. Old Style tasted like a mouthful of rusty pennies, and frankly, I’ve disliked beer ever since (don’t be alarmed, I have, in fact, tasted a variety of finer lagers over the years but the Old Style trauma seems to have sustained a decades-long aversion).

Either way, I count the moment as an important and happy childhood memory. As the years went on Old Style was eclipsed by the ferocity of Miller and Budweiser’s dueling marketing budgets and, while still available, rolls off (or on to) the tongues of few I know.

But for a while, there, that Old Style – and the man who brought it south to Chicago sure made a lot of people happy…including me and my dad.

Esther J. Cepeda writes the "600 Words" & "Pregunta del Dia" columns, and is also the Chief Marketing and Communications Officer for the Illinois Student Assistance Commission. Her views and reporting do not necessarily reflect those of ISAC. "600 words" is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com

Ethnocentric Etiquette 101 with Anna Post

"600 Words by Esther J. Cepeda"

Look around the office – the work landscape has changed dramatically in the last ten years.

You’ve got Mary yakking with Laqueesha about what was on Oprah yesterday and Mario discussing Sunday’s Bears game with John, while Maalik, Esperanza and Bob plan next week’s "fall celebration." It’s like a Benetton ad, but with less spectacular clothes.

With that in mind, I sat down for a chat with Anna Post, great-great- granddaughter of Emily Post, who was in town last week talking up her new partnership with Hyatt Place to launch www.theetiquetteeffect.com an advice website that bills itself as "the online resource for contemporary etiquette insights."

On it Post answers questions ranging from to how to say "no" more gracefully, to how to act when travelling with your boss, to how to give criticism graciously.

I took Anna’s expertise for a spin on topics most people wouldn’t usually dare bring up.

Q. Anna, the office isn’t what it used to be – ethnic minorities now make up more than half the population in 302 of the U.S.’ 3,141 counties. The most recent Census figures say Cook County had the biggest population shift, losing 215,535 whites between 2000 and 2007. How can employees and managers of diverse backgrounds better understand and interact with each other?

A. I teach a personal philosophy of etiquette that goes beyond country of origin and age, and are just good skills to take between your job and your personal life. It’s based on the principles of consideration, respect and honesty. Those go beyond manners and customs; they’re timeless and cross borders.

Q. OK, that sounds good but, for instance, we’re living and working during a time when history is being made by a black Presidential candidate whose being portrayed as a Muslim, an elderly Presidential candidate, and a female Vice-Presidential candidate. So the formerly taboo workplace subjects of race, religion, gender and age are water-cooler fodder du jour. How to deal?

A. Do your homework. For instance, if you know your boss is into politics it and will ask you what you think, be prepared with facts.

But the biggest thing I tell people is don’t make assumptions! Don’t presume everyone in the room agrees with your basic assumptions on race or gender, etc., or agrees with what you might consider generally understood stereotypes.

Q. What if you’re Hispanic and one of your white employees drops little Spanish phrases when he/she speaks to you and a) it drives you crazy and b) you think it’s some sort of sucking-up and c) you just want it to stop but don’t want to hurt the person’s feelings?

A. Wow. I think that requires a conversation! If it was a peer you could have their manager talk to him/her but as the boss you have to have that talk directly.

There are some things we all have to swallow but always keep in mind your respect for yourself. Always be true to yourself.

That said, some soft language like, "I want to talk to you about a communication issue" – it’s always about the issue, not the person – "I need to bring this up because it’s distracting me from our work…" Also remember to say something like, "You need to fully believe I know you’re not trying to intentionally make me uncomfortable…"

Q. Ok, how about this one: let’s say I’m the only Hispanic at a company and it’s "Holiday Party" time and I’m asked to bring the guacamole. Again. I love guacamole and all, it’s cool…but enough with the guacamole, already! I know how to roll sushi and layer Baklava, ya know.

A. Just remember that it’s coming from a good place and in that situation try something like, "I’m going to give so and so my recipe for the guacamole this time, I’m going to bring the vanilla pudding this year."

Q. A lot more people in our offices are observing Ramadan. How does a high-powered executive who is fasting maneuver the omni-present lunch and dinner meetings? Or, alternately for instance, what if you’re vegetarian or have severe food allergies?

A. First, don’t think you have to apologize for being true to yourself – always be true to yourself and never go against your beliefs. Don’t ever try to hide your differences. That said, there are a couple of things you can do depending on your comfort level:

1) Call the person scheduling the meeting in advance and just let them know what’s going on. Don’t insist the meeting be relocated and don’t be difficult if they offer to relocate, just be open to what’s going to make everyone comfortable.

2) You might get the restaurant information to make sure they have food you can eat, or to ask them not to lay out a table setting, or to make sure your food is prepared away from allergy triggers.

3) Make sure you remind wait staff when you arrive. Again, don’t apologize, just be direct, "Thank you, I’m not eating today…"

And be careful with how much information you give to others, it’s always up to you how much you want to reveal but it may be asking a lot for others to handle your food allergy stories. You always want to show consideration for others in any situation.

Q. Final thoughts on "making it" as a minority in a mostly white executive work world?

A. Always be true to yourself. Respect yourself and others. And always show confidence – people want to be around people with confidence.

Esther J. Cepeda writes the "600 Words" & "Pregunta del Dia" columns, and is also the Chief Marketing and Communications Officer for the Illinois Student Assistance Commission. Her views and reporting do not necessarily reflect those of ISAC. "600 words" is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com

Healthy living best defense against dreaded Bisphenol A

"600 Words by Esther J. Cepeda"

Medical studies drive me crazy! Rather than using collective medical expertise to enlighten a populace about living healthier, these studies are used as a weapon to induce fear – the kind that makes for great headlines but has little value in changing anyone’s quality of life.

All over the country this morning the big "medical story" is a study reported in this month's Journal of the American Medical Association which links Bisphenol A (BPA) – a chemical found in household items such as plastic baby bottles, hard water bottles, reusable plastic food containers, CDs, DVDs, cardboard pizza boxes, wine, beer, and pop cans – to heart disease and Type-2 diabetes.

A link.

Meaning there is a correlation, but no one – no one – can say it is causal correlation. For instance, the classic example: Sleeping with your shoes on is strongly correlated with waking up with a headache. But that does not mean that sleeping with your shoes on causes that headache – maybe you have no one to take your shoes off after you’ve passed out in an alcoholic stupor.

Let’s determine which came first, the chicken or the egg with today’s BPA scare stories, which document the finding that more than 90 percent of the U.S. population has traces of BPA in their bodies – no laughing matter, for sure.

· Baby bottles: it is well documented that babies who are breast fed – rather than pumped with large quantities of artificially-sweetened formula – stay lighter, are able to exercise better portion control, and stay slimmer throughout their lifetimes. Don’t blame the bottle.

· Hard water bottles: like the plastic used in sippy cups, which are usually provided to unsuspecting children filled with 3 or 4 servings of sugary juice-type substance at a pop. Don’t blame the sippy cup.

What about water bottles? Well, athletes who work out for hours a week generally don’t come down with heart disease and obesity-related diabetes but the majority of people I see with water bottles have "I’m dieting and Dr. Oprah told me to drink 85 gallons of water a day" written all over them.

· CDs? Let’s be frank, only people over 30 even have them in their house. Next.

DVD's Cardboard pizza boxes, wine, beer, and pop cans, which all go nicely together…need I say more?

Here’s a headline you won’t see scrolling in all caps under the market watch numbers on CNN or on the front page of any newspaper over a menacing picture of shiny plastic chemical-ridden bottles: "Moderate exercise and fresh foods in small servings keep people healthy!!!"

Esther J. Cepeda writes the "600 Words" & "Pregunta del Dia" columns, and is also the Chief Marketing and Communications Officer for the Illinois Student Assistance Commission. Her views and reporting do not necessarily reflect those of ISAC. "600 words" is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com

OGD: Obsessive Green Disorder

"600 Words by Esther J. Cepeda"

If water is the new oil and hand washing is the new antibiotic then am I the new green-tinged obsessive compulsive? The answer is yes.

I’m suffering from ecological anxiety. I noticed it today on two separate occasions.

Once as I was cleaning out my recycling drawer, where I keep all my loose scraps and wads of clean paper, when I briefly considered dragging the bag home on my two hour train commute on the off chance that the person who picks up the recyclables in my office just laughs heartily as he or she dumps the pile in the trash along with the coffee grounds and the discarded containers of pad Thai.

The second time was about two hours later in the bathroom at work. I approach all non-home bathrooms as though they were "the dirtiest toilet in Scotland" from the movie Trainspotting – touch nothing and try not to breathe too deeply. While I was at the sink, washing my hands (counting to fifteen s-l-o-w-l-y) the woman next to me finished her scrub.

In the interest of not recontaminating her hands with the same germs she’d just deposited on the handles, Mrs. Antimicrobial left the water running while she, with cool molasses-like speed, turned her body toward the towel dispenser, dragged her heavy feet toward it, painstakingly pulled out two hand towels, dried, then s-l-o-w-l-y returned to the sink to turn the water off. All while I scrubbed (thirteen…fourteeeen…fifteeeen) and screamed in my head: "Lady! HURRY, HURRY!!! That precious water is just dribbling away!"

Once when a woman was in there brushing her teeth with the tap running away at full tilt I had to run out before I started hyperventilating. I’ve got it bad.

In June, The Telegraph newspaper reported on Goldman Sachs’ "Top Five Risks" conference where it was posited that "A catastrophic water shortage could prove an even bigger threat to mankind this century than soaring food prices and the relentless exhaustion of energy reserves."

According to Andrew Liveris, the chief executive of the Dow Chemical company, in a recent interview with The Economist, "Water is the oil of the 21st century." Dow has cut the amount of water it uses per ton of output by over a third since 1995, mostly to conserve costs, of course, but still.

On the other front, Mama Cepeda, who works at an Advocate Medical Center, has been hammering home the value of washing your hands – practically after every third exhale –for effective germ prevention for seven years now. I have yet to convince her that the anti-microbial soaps are killing off our good germs and I don’t have the heart to tell her that a recent study by the American Academy of Dermatology found that if you wash your hands more than ten times a day you could bring on scaling, redness, itching, burning – and scratching – that might lead to even more infection than if you just took a chill pill.

It’s all getting to be a bit too much. I shouldn’t be fantasizing about rain barrels, fretting about whether it’s worse to run my full dishwasher or kill trees by using disposable paper plates – or risk not killing the dog saliva that pre-washed the china before I soak and rinse by hand.

I fear one day I’ll be minding my own business when I come across some reasonable way to calculate my carbon footprint and it’ll all be over.

My family will find me sitting perfectly still under a tree somewhere warm, reading a 100% non-chemically treated sheaf of quickly biodegradable papers on the topic of sustainability, paralyzed by my desire to turn green.

Someone please send help immediately – but only if you can get it to me without printing, mailing, driving, or wasting any energy. Or water.

Esther J. Cepeda writes the "600 Words" & "Pregunta del Dia" columns, and is also the Chief Marketing and Communications Officer for the Illinois Student Assistance Commission. Her views and reporting do not necessarily reflect those of ISAC. "600 words" is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com

Lower the drinking age to 18

“600 Words by Esther J. Cepeda”

I don’t drink. At all. No beer, no wine, no champagne. It weirds some people out, but I don’t care, it’s just who I am.

That said, enough with this “21 to drink” business.

Monday the presidents of one hundred colleges and universities announced an initiative to lower the legal drinking age to 18. According to them, the change in the law – set to 21 in 1984 and which has supposedly “saved 25,000 lives” according to Mothers Against Drunk Driving – will reduce "a culture of dangerous, clandestine 'binge drinking'" on their campuses.

I agree.

I’ve been, as far back as I can remember, the designated driver. Yes, even when I started driving at 16.

And as far as I can remember, kids have been saying that it’s unfair for them to have the privilege and right to vote and to join the military and die for their country but not to drink a beer.

That sounded like all sorts of BS back in the day, but now – after thousands of young soldiers have been killed in the Middle East wars since 2001 and while the country is captivated by November’s historic presidential election – it doesn’t sound quite so self serving.

The real reason most people don’t want the drinking age to be reduced to 18 is because then parents would have to deal with it.

Yes, a 21 minimum drinking age means that parents can wash their hands of the uncomfortable task of talking to their kids about responsible drinking. Forget actually modeling responsible behavior – imagine that! – and forget about discussing the role alcohol plays in family life. As it stands today, parents are free to simply cross their arms across their chests and refuse to talk about drinking unless it’s the standard “don’t you dare drink!” admonitions.

They get ignored, just in case no one noticed, as do the “21” laws. MADD’s numbers speak for themselves:

• In 2006, the average age at first alcohol use among [those] aged 12 to 49 was 16.6 years, earlier than any other drug except inhalants
• It’s been found that family factors, such as parent-child relationships, discipline methods, communication, monitoring and supervision, and parental involvement, also exert a significant influence on youthful alcohol use
• In a survey, 33 percent of 6th to 12th graders said their parents never, seldom, or sometimes set clear rules for them and almost half said their parents never, seldom, or sometimes discipline them when they break the rules
• Between 1985 and 1996, there were 5,555 child passenger deaths involving a drinking driver. Of these deaths, 3,556 or 64 percent occurred while the child was riding with a drinking driver
• Of the 306 children 0-14 years old who were killed in alcohol-related crashes during 2006, half (153) of those killed were passengers in vehicles with drivers who had been drinking.
• Only 31 percent of parents of 15- to 16-year-olds believe their child had a drink in the past year, compared to the 60 percent of teens in that age group who reported drinking
• Youth who reported that a parent or a friend’s parent had provided alcohol at a party within the past year reported drinking more on their last drinking occasion and were twice as likely to have consumed alcohol within the past 30 days and to have engaged in binge drinking

These numbers don’t paint the full picture, of course, but it does point to a serious lack of modeling, guiding and teaching healthy drinking habits on the part of parents. “There’s no reason to do so,” most parents – even the ones who wouldn’t dream of letting their kids drive without supervision – rationalize, “after all, by the time they can drink legally, they’ll be grown.” That’s called a false sense of security.

Let’s just take the fake security blanket away and drop the age for drinking to the age of dying for your country and voting for the top leader of the world.

Accepting what is (kids find ways to drink no matter what the age) rather than focusing on what should be (kids waiting to drink until they’re “mature”) will save way more lives than denying that a general lack of parental responsibility leads to more alcohol-related deaths than can be estimated by well-meaning moms’ groups.

Esther J. Cepeda writes the "600 Words" & "Pregunta del Dia" columns, and is also the Chief Marketing and Communications Officer for the Illinois Student Assistance Commission. Her views and reporting do not necessarily reflect those of ISAC. "600 words" is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com

Rick Bayless: Chicago's only Mexican Chef?

This column originally appeared on the Huffington Post's new Chicago site:

He’s faster at rolling flautas than a speeding bullet, more powerful a chef than thousands of Marias and Juans in Chicago, able to leap into halls of fame while wearing huaraches…look up in the sky! It’s a taco vendor, it’s a Mexican it’s…Rick Bayless!

That’s right, Rick Bayless. Salt-n-pepper goateed chef/owner of the Frontera Grill and Topolobampo. Author, TV superstar, James Beard award collector, soon to be the third inductee into the Chicago Culinary Museum and Chef’s Hall of Fame, and seemingly Chicago’s only Mexican chef.

Yes, in a town with at least a handful of hot Latino chefs and restauranteurs – and where 1.44 million of its 1.8 million Hispanics are of Mexican descent – when you look at all the Mexican chefs whose books are featured on bookshelves, are written about, talked about, or referred to as Mexican food experts in Chicago’s media, there’s no list – it’s just Rick.

Google around and you’ll see what I’m talking about: whether it be a comment on the use of store-bought, pre-made sopes, what hot chocolate to pair with your churros, or a description of Chicago’s Mexican culture, Rick’s da hombre. The book which greeted me at the front of my local Borders a few weeks ago said it all. There was Rick’s smiling face, topped off by the proclamation: "Authentic Mexican."

I’ve heard some conspiracy theories – don’t think Chicago’s Hispanics haven’t noticed the Bayless phenomenon – but as far as I can see there’s no one to blame. Well, maybe some unimaginative reporters, but…Bayless is just that good.

He is, if I may, a fusion of cultures and flavors – Oklahoman by birth, Mexican by heart – possibly our time’s best ambassador to Mexican culture, and absolutely not shy about the Bayless Mystique.

"Yes, certainly, through the years I’ve heard it. They usually say it to my face: ‘Who’s this white guy making Mexican food and capitalizing on us?’" Bayless told me in an interview last week. "But for every one of those, I’ve had thousands of ‘thank you for showing the world the real Mexico.’"

The man has seen more Mexico than me, my mom who was born there, and my dad who immigrated to Mexico as a kid, combined. On his show I’ve watched him cook fish over a fire pit in old lady’s huts, eat truly frightening things out of market carts, and identify cheese that all my life my family knew only as "white cheese." He knows his stuff and can rightfully claim to be a Mexican food expert.

As we spoke, his take on things made sense to me, a girl who never once made tamales or baked Dia del Muerto bread.

"Somehow people think that if you're raised by a family of a certain culture you'll have a mastery, it’ll be in your genes, and that’s not always true," he said, "and in a sense that’s such a small part of it."

Then he hit a touchy nail on the head: "For instance, if you want to write about mole, as a Mexican, you are obliged to say your grandmother’s recipe is the only one that’s the best, and if you were to go to another town and say ‘that mole is better than my grandmother’s’ you’d get run out of town on a rail! But it’s not a problem for me; because I don’t have that Mexican grandmother I can embrace all of Mexico, all the regions all the styles, and bring it all together in one place."

Which, I’ll admit, is another unique Bayless viewpoint: many Chicagoans think Mexico is just one homogenous Mexico and don’t recognize what us Mexicans know – that Chicago is full of Mexicans from all over that country, with some extremely distinct socio-cultural norms, and super-varied foods. Once here it turns into a pastiche that has created a multi-regional Chicago-Mex food scene that’s a little bit Yucatan, little bit Norteňo, a little bit lots of other things (heck, I don’t even know what other things, I’d have to call him back).

My take on Bayless as ambassador frequently clashes with others’, I know, but Latinos are living through tough times; there’s a lot of hatin’ going on with all the immigration talk. And here’s one guy literally devoting his life to changing those attitudes – not a bad thing.

"I can say [I reach] a lot of people that don’t see eye-to-eye with me politically, socially or anything. Yet when we’re at the table, cooking an incredible paella over a wood fire, we have the most amazing time. All of a sudden all the differences fall away," he said. "I can bring people to the table with really beautifully crafted food. As our country becomes more and more Latino, I think a real Mexican table is really going to be an important step in sort of bringing the cultures together – I can't help but think it will influence others to look at what Mexican culture has done."

Still, I’m bummed few Hispanic chefs are getting any love from the MSM – there’s certainly plenty to go around – but there’s something to that as well. Jeff Bailey, a former Chicago-based New York Times reporter put it into a journalist’s perspective. In a recent travel section feature, Bayless was only one of many, many Latino chefs, and other experts, he sourced for his story on Pilsen. Last month we talked about his Bayless quotes. "The type of people who get in [to stories] are those who truly help stories move along, have a particular knowledge and expertise," Bailey told me, "Bayless has all kinds of views."

So I asked Rick – who I bet you didn’t know provides highly competitive full-ride culinary school scholarships and internships in his restaurants for Mexican-American students who flock to Frontera Grill from all over the country – to give the aspiring Hispanic chefs in Chicago some pointers.

"First you have to do your homework – you have to learn the history." Bayless said. "‘This is just how my mother makes it’ – that doesn’t make a story. This is how it was created in this part of Veracruz, and it was made this way, with that from there…is the story."

"But it’s also really the flavors – you have to be a good cook, you gotta do all the rest of the work, and have a good personal story, and tell a good story about the food, and you have to have inherent passion for what you're making," Rick, who has no shortage of that, said. "People love to be around passion. It’s very important to talk about the food with this great verve."

"The passion is the main ingredient."

visit the Huffington Post's new Chicago site

Let buyer beware: post calorie counts on Chicago menus

"600 Words by Esther J. Cepeda"

We don’t always have to be the Second City, but I’ll settle for it in this case.

In December 2006 Chicago could have been the one making international headlines about being the first city in the U.S. requiring restaurants to prominently post calorie content information, but New York beat us to it.

In May, after a two-year court battle (and an industry lawsuit is still pending), New York’s large fast food restaurant chains were required to post the calorie counts for their food and full enforcement began last Saturday. If the information – which can usually be found somewhere in the store and many times on corporate web sites – is not displayed prominently i.e., by the price, the chain faces penalties of up to $2,000 per store.

Of course, much like with the Foie Gras ban fracas, da Mayor was having no morsel of the Chicago City Council’s December 2006 proposal to bring the bright idea to a town. Mayor Daley is a, ahem, big believer in letting people make their own lifestyle choices. Though judging from various "Fat City" listings in which Chicago usually makes a top-5 showing, that’s not working out so well for us.

An April 2008 Health report published by Chicago’s Sinai Urban Health Institute did a small survey of face-to-face interviews with a representative group of people living in six racially and ethnically diverse Chicago communities during 2002 and 2003.

Based on the heights and weights reported by the primary caregivers of 501 randomly selected kids 2–12 years old, they found that compared with 16.8% for the U.S., the prevalence of obesity was 11.8% in a non-Hispanic white community on Chicago’s north side, 34.0% in a Mexican American community on the west side, and 56.4% in a non-Hispanic black community on the south side.

If you’re not alarmed by that you don’t need nutrition information: because your arteries are too clogged to have a pulse.

Our mayor, in 2006, was quoted by local reporters as saying "When we come to kids, every medical expert would agree that something needs to be done. Parents need to be more aware of what the calories are." He said that the same day that news outlets across the country reported that bad eating habits are so ingrained in our culture that kids—especially Hispanic ones—are being diagnosed with obesity as early as 18 months.

So maybe now that NY is on the bus, can we get on, too?

Yes, if Chicago started this requirement some restaurateurs would ignore posting rules and some customers would never actually read them. This is, after all Chicago, a place that has a pizza and a hot dog styled in its name, and a beef sandwich no one in Sicily could have possibly dreamed up.

And yes, it would cost time, effort and money for restaurant owners who would have to have their food tested and/or change their menus and signage reprinted.

I still want it. And I’m not the only one.

Do you think there are several major websites (many that are cell phone-enabled) that give common calorie counts for no reason? Do you think free text-messaging services so people can make healthier choices at the counter by getting counts zapped to them, are around just for kicks? Is it any coincidence that one tried and true way to maintain a healthy body weight is to keep written track of calories consumed every day? Of course not.

The bottom line is that an informed consumer is a healthier consumer. If I want a big fat 650-calorie cinnamon bun with my coffee in the morning, I’m probably going to push aside my high risk of Type-2 diabetes (I’m Hispanic and it runs in my family) and get it. The difference is that armed with the information, I can choose to eat half and share or save the rest. Or I can splurge but watch what I eat for the rest of the day.

Uproar over calorie counts in restaurants is just like upset over smoking bans: sure there are lots of people enduring the heat or cold to puff away, upset and possibly boycotting their once-favorite hangouts, but there are also crowds of people streaming into new spots where they never before ventured because they didn’t want to put up with the smoke. And we’re all getting used to that reality. We could get used to calorie counts in restaurants, too. Just like we got used to every single packaged food item sold in the U.S. sporting a nutrition label starting in 2003.

Rarely is it one big thing that makes a difference in our habits, it’s little things like being knowledgeable about what you eat that have the biggest impact. The health gains Chicagoans could make from simply knowing what they are putting in their – and their kids’ mouths – could be monumental over the course of a few generations.

Chicago, our time has come.

Esther J. Cepeda writes the "600 Words" & "Pregunta del Dia" columns, and is also the Chief Marketing and Communications Officer for the Illinois Student Assistance Commission. Her views and reporting do not necessarily reflect those of ISAC. "600 words" is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com

Small potatoes, big dust-up

"600 Words" by Esther J. Cepeda

If I said po-tay-toe, you might say po-tah-toe, or you might say "Irish potato famine." You might say "baked, covered in butter, sour cream and chives, sitting next to a filet mignon" or even say "McDonald's," if you're the sort who'd know they're the single largest purchaser of potatoes in the U.S.

Me, I say South American comfort food – not what immediately springs to mind, I know. I'd never presumed to pinpoint the potato's exact origins but Peru and Chile are doing it for me, trying to lay claim to birth-place bragging rights and J.R. Simplot is no longer around for comment, may he rest in peace. Let me back up.

Picture this: Andean highlands, brightly wrapped, broad-faced peasants cultivating tasty tubers while sikus (pan pipes) play gently in the background. Those are the origins of the potato.

Sunday's New York Times ran a story about Peru and Chile being at odds about who can claim the spud as their's first at this most delicate time: the U.N.-decreed International Year of the Potato. According to the International Potato Center (I didn't know either, but don’t miss clicking on the potato song!), annual production approaches 300 million tons and more than one-third of the global potato output now comes from developing countries.

To top it off, the site says potatoes are the "third most important food crop in the world" because its "a major carbohydrate in the diet of hundreds of millions of people in the developing countries.

That alone is a biggie right now as food manufacturers look to the potato as the price of corn skyrockets – Peru has already started putting potato bread in schools. Which brings me to Mr. J.R. Simplot who passed away May 25 of this year – a mere five days before Peru's National Potato Day – at the ripe old age of 99.

Though I doubt he can be credited with the development of the delicious potato-flour bun which graced the long-defunct Arch Deluxe, Simplot – a Dubuque, Iowa native who died a billionaire – will be remembered as the man who perfected the method of freezing the French-cut potato, forever making them a staple of the fast food industry. The man loved potatoes like no other, and oh how I wish he were around to weigh in on this tater tiff.

My dearest dad – not a potato baron but raised in the more bucolic parts of Ecuador – remembers eating potatoes of many shapes and sizes nearly every day because corn and wheat products were out of his family's financial means. "Every once in a while we'd have some fresh cheese with them," he told me over a rare potato-sparse Sunday-night dinner.

And that's my fondest memory of the humble potato – freshly fished out of a kettle of boiling water, served steaming hot along with a chunk of white cheese and a salt shaker. On special occasions they'd be mashed, colored with the oil of the Achiote seed, studded with pieces of brick or viajero cheese and fried into potato pancakes: my southern comfort food.

But rather than being the beacon of peace and indulgence Simplot considered the spud to be, the tubers are a sore spot. The Associated Press reported that Andres Contreras, a researcher at Chile's Austral University in Valdivia, said archaeological studies have found the first evidence of human potato chomping dating back 14,000 years in southern Chile, long before evidence emerges of spud consumption in Peru. The AP also quoted Juan Risi, the head of Peru's National Institute for Agricultural Innovation, calling Chile's potatoes mere "grandchildren" of Peru's tubers.

A shame that things had to get so ugly – it's not like Chile and Peru don't have more pressing social issues to address – but it is a matter of national pride. Luckily, neither I nor Simplot, "America's Great Potato Baron," have to pick sides. He will, by now, have learned all the potato secrets of the universe he craved during his earthly life, and I will satisfy myself with the knowledge that national borders won't keep me from being proud of my potato ancestry.

Esther J. Cepeda writes the “600 Words” & “Pregunta del Dia” columns, and is also a Director at the Chicago-based United Neighborhood Organization. Her reporting and opinions do not necessarily reflect those of UNO. “600 words” is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com

Zeh fuwah guwah

by Esther J. Cepeda

"Pregunta del Dia" translates to Question of the Day and today’s comes from R.L., a Stickney reader who, in response to another recent column, asked:

Q. "Are you a vegetarian?"

A. Me a veggie? It only takes two words to make this girl happy: cheesey-beef.

But even if that weren’t the case, and I believed firmly in the right of animals to take precedence over humans in the food chain, I wouldn’t try to ram my ideology down your throat. Which brings me to Chicago’s now defunct ban on foie gras in the city.

For the uninitiated, foie gras is the fattened liver of goose or duck, otherwise known as what Julia Child talked me through the preparation of in her distinctive voice on so many lonely childhood Saturday afternoons. Its sale had been banned in Chicago in 2006 and was quietly rescinded last Wednesday.

I got no beef with the foie gras even if some consider the force feeding of these animals cruelly inhumane. This usually comes from people eating eggs and wearing leather shoes, or who routinely make their children sit at the table until ALL the asparagus has been consumed. If that’s not cruel feeding, I don’t know what is.

Nevertheless, I’m thrilled the menu item I’d never dream of ordering is now legal again because the ban made us all look like a bunch of backwater rubes. Chicago is trying for the 2016 Olympics, partially to gain recognition in the world as a place that has more to offer than Michael Jordan and Al Capone memorabilia. Now we won’t even have to imagine the snickers from the rich tourists: "Zeh Chicagoers don’t allow zeh fuwah guwah? Sacrebleu!"

Esther J. Cepeda writes the “600 Words” & “Pregunta del Dia” columns, and is also a Director at the Chicago-based United Neighborhood Organization. Her reporting and opinions do not necessarily reflect those of UNO. “600 words” is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com

Not even if you got ‘em

by Esther J. Cepeda

“Pregunta del Dia” translates into Question of the day and today’s comes from a loyal reader who lives out in cyberspace, J.O. who asks:

Q. You’re not a smoker, are you?

A. Let’s put it this way, J.O., I am not addicted to nicotine. And I don’t like the stinky smell. And the only time I buy cigarettes its to give to my friends…who share.

Smoking isn’t good for you but business gets done on a smoke break, and much like you wouldn’t have a business lunch with someone and then refuse to eat, well, let’s just say I don’t mind puffing every now and then.

That said, the pressure to do so has gone down significantly. The no-indoor-smoking laws have made for fewer opportunities to feel pressured to light up.

The Associated Press recently reported that a Massachusetts study has linked the indoor smoking bans to reduced smoking in teens age 12-17. “Youths who lived in towns with strict bans were 40% less likely to become regular smokers than those in communities with no bans or weak ones,” according to an article in May’s issue of the archives of Pediatrics and Adolescent Medicine.

We can make a few assumptions and take it farther, will the number of pre-teens who never take up the habit skyrocket?  Will the number of smokers who quit and never take up the habit again rise and stay steady? Will the smoking ban craze catch on everywhere? Maybe.

While that may not be good news for smokers who have to brave the fierce elements, but its wonderful news for the cost burden on our health care system and group insurance premiums in the coming decades. A worthy trade, I think!

send your preguntas to questions@pregunta-del-dia.com 

Esther J. Cepeda writes the “600 Words” & “Pregunta del Dia” columns, and is also a Director at the Chicago-based United Neighborhood Organization. Her reporting and opinions do not necessarily reflect those of UNO. “600 words” is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com

Five-o day mayo-nnaise

by Esther J. Cepeda

“Pregunta del Dia” translates into Question of the day and today’s comes from Enrique, a Norridge, IL reader who asks:

Q. Why do Americans celebrate Cinco de Mayo? Mexicans care way more about September 16^th, the day of Mexico’s Independence.

A.  Enrique, most Americans think May 5^th is Mexican Independence day, but it’s just the commemoration of a short-lived win against the French at Puebla.

Why celebrate it at all? Because we Americans, above all, are party-lovin’ consumers. After New Year’s Eve we had to wait only until the Super Bowl for an alcohol/food binge. From there it was a short jump to Valentine’s Day for candy and champagne, and only a few weeks to St. Paddy’s day corned beef. How to fill the great gaping hole between the green beer and the Fourth of July barbecue?

You guessed it, buddy, Cinco. Besides, what better time to highlight all the “Latinized” consumer products available at a store near you? So when you go buy food for the feast and a case of Corona, the worst-selling beer in Mexico, to share with your non-Mexican friends, pick up some Jalapeno mayonnaise to slather on the homemade quesadillas Martha Stewart calls “Mexican Fondue with Chorizo and Chiles.” What could be more melting-pot-American than that?

Esther J. Cepeda writes the “600 Words” & “Pregunta del Dia” columns, and is also a Director at the Chicago-based United Neighborhood Organization. Her reporting and opinions do not necessarily reflect those of UNO. “600 words” is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com

Twenty-dollar Cheetos

Can Global Food Shortage + Obesity Epidemic = better nutrition?

"600 Words" by Esther J. Cepeda

Food prices are through the roof. It's gettin' ugly out there: Australia, North Korea, Zimbabwe, Haiti are all facing severe food shortages.

But why leave the Americas? Millions of Mexicans took to the streets last year because the Sponge-Bobian fantasy that cars running on corn would save the world drove the humble tortilla into caviar-land.

Too "third world" for you? How about the rice restrictions at Costco - ahhh, now they're hitting us where it hurts! You don't pull basics from overly-lit suburban temples of excess without grabbing a headline or two.

But where some see another kick to the groin of our ailing economy, I have a grand vision: the Twenty-dollar Cheeto.

First some facts: according to the Endocrine Society of America and the Centers for Disease Control, obesity is "the number one health threat facing America." Based on numbers from 2004, they say obesity currently results in an estimated 400,000 deaths annually and costs the U.S. nearly $122.9 billion bucks. Think globally, and we're talking over 1 billion overweight adults and 300 million clinically obese. Ouch.

And corn prices - you could pick up 56 pounds for $2 in January 2006, by January 2008 the predictions looked closer to $5 per bushel, according to the USDA National Agriculture Statistics Service. Meat that starts out as cows and pigs eat...well, you get the picture.

Which brings me back to my fantasy: the twenty-dollar Cheeto.

I loooove Cheetos, who doesn't? Poor people who buy their food at the corner store love 'em, working class folks who get groceries from the food shelter love 'em, rich people who didn't fill up at Charlie Trotter's love 'em.

Now take higher demand and lower supplies of corn products, add it to the US and Mexico - the numbers 9 and 19 fattest countries in the world, according to the World Health Organization - factor in a plunging economy and 24-hour news cycles, and that equals a prime teaching moment for getting people to eat healthier.

Inexplicably, spokespersons for the Centers for Disease Control, the U.S. Health Department, the American Heart Association and the few med schools I called hadn't even considered the possibility that the challenge of global food scarcity might be a perfect opportunity.

But never mind the policy wonks, the wheels have already started turning at food banks and pantries.

These are the people who beg the industrial food complex for left-over mac-n-cheese, canned ravioli, and pretzels to give to people who can't afford it otherwise. People like the good folks at the Greater Chicago Food Depository.

"Rising costs for food is affecting everything we do," Bob Dolgan of the GCFD told me. "Our most recent numbers show we're up 12% over last year - it's really affecting our pantry and soup kitchens."

But like me - worried the processed, packaged food the poorest of our communities swallow in even greater amounts during an economic downturn creates more health problems in later years - Bob sees the up-side. And GCFD had already decided to wean themselves off the corn.

"With higher costs for food producers we're relying less on donations and more on fundraising. But that lets us control the nutritional value of the products, so we're actually purchasing more fresh fruits and vegetables."

Bob didn't want to speculate what sort of ultra-effective nutrition education campaigns this conundrum could spur, instead we took a moment to savor the possibility of the twenty dollar Cheeto - so delicious, so expensive. A lunchtime staple today, a pleasant, distant memory running through the minds of 1.3 billion thinner bodies tomorrow.

Esther J. Cepeda writes the "600 Words" & "Pregunta del Dia" columns, and is also a Director at the Chicago-based United Neighborhood Organization. Her reporting and opinions do not necessarily reflect those of UNO. "600 words" is a registered trademark of EeJayCee, Inc., Copyright 2008. May be reprinted with permission, contact eejaycee@600words.com