Borscht and Bombs

We’re going to Ukraine today (virtually). I wonder if its famous beetroot soup will prove to be neutral territory in today’s war-struck world?

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Since the fateful day Russia started its “special operation in the Donbas,” Ukraine has never been far from the news. The war in the country has also generated a raft of conservation headlines. Last year, I sat in international nature meetings where Ukraine, supported by most of Europe, criticised Russia for the destruction of Ukrainian ecological areas. Russia responded by accusing them all of politicising the Convention. Months later, the Russian delegation derailed the closing session of the biodiversity COP by raising procedural objections to ‘bias’ in the election of regional representatives. While bias seemed to be short for ‘not electing a Russian,’ the objection was bizarrely successful. It triggered a lengthy voting process that broke down in the early hours of the morning, leaving the elections invalidated. On top of all that, there is the story about grain. The crisis around Ukrainian wheat harvests has led some to call for a new agricultural revolution – which the charity BirdLife has strongly condemned as a ‘Trojan horse’ tactic favouring the agrochemical industry.

Back in simpler times, I found a lovely Russian-rooted website describing how to cook Ukraine’s (extremely red) national dish, borscht. This is a thick, earthy soup, perhaps made more famous by American Jews – but the original recipe is just excellent. Food doesn’t usually stop wars, but friendship within the cooking community is a lovely taste of harmony in troubled times. I commend the recipe to you as I pray once more for peace between these two great countries.

Recipe:  Borscht Recipe (Iconic soup made easy!) by Julia Frey of Vikalinka

Substitutions: Ham ribs instead of salt and pork ribs.

Makes: 4 portions

Carbs:   circa 20g per portion, by my calculations – Julia’s come out with more or less the same answer, too.

Rating:  80.  Impressed by the flavour – better than I expected. 

How to Say “I Love You” in Latvian

According to the internet, you say “Es mīlu Tevi…” or – possibly – cook your beloved some special peas topped with fried deliciousness.

Latvia, with its niche language, distinctive flag (“carmine red with white horizontal stripe“) and flourishing food scene, has fascinated me for a while. The efforts of its plucky football team and a controversy over the correct spelling(s) and pronunciation of “Euro” in Latvian (it sounded highly entertaining on Radio 4) only serve to add to its mystique. With a national dish that shouts “comfort food” all over, I start with high hopes that Latvia will rapture my palate with a new winter favourite.

On the nature front, Latvia contains a lot of forest, grassland and wetland. As an EU member state, it benefits from LIFE-funded projects such as these efforts to improve the management of forest and grassland protected areas. The EU loves nature reserves and protected areas. They work quite well in Europe. People generally respect them, and there is usually enough money and/or public goodwill to make sure at least a few people are looking after them.

History, though, says Europeans like drawing lines on maps. When Europeans colonised rather too much of the world, the border lines they drew were often (probably always) something of a problem. Now, despite its internal policy of mutual co-operation and integration, the EU is still drawing lines abroad a century or two later.

“30 x 30” – a commitment to protect 30% of the world’s land (and, in the end, sea) was one of the most fiercely-contested topics at Convention of Biological Diversity COP 15 the other month. Proponents such as the EU saw it as necessary to achieve their high-ambition nature goals. Opponents – mostly from countries dealing with a European colonial legacy – said it was too divisive, impractical to carry out without infringing on local people’s rights, and needed more money to implement properly than the wealthier nations were willing to give them. Who won? Why, the nations with the most money and influence, of course. 30 x 30 is coming soon to a place near you.

Now, I have to say that – as worried as I am about the human rights question – I am not dead against 30 x 30. While probably not best as a blanket option across the world, it definitely helps in some cases. Now it has been agreed in the Global Biodiversity Framework, though, it needs doing extremely carefully. Can the five principles we looked at in the previous post tell us something about how?

If there is one of these principle my friend Rosalind Helfand embodies, it has to be the “doing.” Roz seems to juggle chairing meetings, judging sci-fi literature contests, coordinating initiatives, lobbying politicians and being a fun human being with amounts of vigour that would leave most other people taking a long lie-down in a quiet room. Among the many hats she wears, one is as Co-founder of the California Global Biodiversity Working Group. California is a much more environmentally conscious state than many others within the US (which is notably not a party to the Convention). Rather than sit by and watch from the sidelines, though, California wants to be involved with the GBF.

Roz and others in California have already put in a lot of effort around 30×30 since it became clear it would enter the Framework. Speaking of her work with the California Natural Resources Agency, she says:

In California, we’re focusing on the importance of an inclusive approach to implementing 30×30 that engages tribal partners and is iterative as we frequently convene stakeholders in discussion about our path forward. It’s hard, but it’s gained such diverse support. We shared this work at COP15, where California joined the Subnational Government Taskforce of the High Ambition Coalition for Nature and People.

– Rosalind Helfand, Co-founder, California Global Biodiversity Working Group

Now, one could look at this and say: “Isn’t that just more talk?” This, however, is where preparation is key to further action. A lack of preparation and unity hamstrings further action. A well-prepared strategy lays the path for action, which then enables more action, step by step until the goal is reached. The two go hand in hand. Both are necessary, but neither is sufficient. As much as Roz is a doer, one way she’s able to do so much is because she makes efficient preparation.

The CBD, of course, also tries to foster this virtuous cycle – yet California’s approach looks a little different. Key features of the GBF were pushed through after back-room deals between the power players. Cali’s Global Biodiversity Working Group, though, is based on taking the big ideas from the top and putting them to the grassroots – not the politicians – for decision. Here’s hoping they can find a just, fair and locally-appropriate way forward.

Moving back to the food, I found out Latvia’s national dish is pelēkie zirņi ar speķi un ceptiem sīpoliem – grey peas with bacon and fried onions. Latvia, which lies on the Baltic Sea, has an annual average air temperature of less than 6°C. Little wonder, then, that ‘Baltic’ is a vernacular word meaning ‘very cold’ in multiple British dialects – and Latvians like to fight the Baltic cold with hot, greasy, energy-rich sustenance.

Given pelēkie zirņi‘s lack of popularity in world cuisine, I had to go full Latvian to find a decent recipe. Thankfully, Google Translate does a nice line in Latvian to English, so I didn’t have to wait till I’d learnt the language/made a Latvian friend before I could cook the dish. The Google approach also led to a cheerful mix of quaint phrases and recipe confusion. Uncle Google seemed unsure whether I should be using bacon or sliced brisket (I went with bacon, but beef brisket would work as an alternative). However, on the up side, I learnt that grey pea suppers:

“… are suitable not only for bringing them to the table everyday, but also for Latvian celebrations.”

I also liked the look of the photo article entitled How people had fun at the ‘Celebration of winter flavors’ in Sigulda. Hopefully Valentine’s Day is also going down well this year – with as few commercial distractions as possible.

Recipe: “Pelēkie zirņi ar speķi un ceptiem sīpoliem” from delfi.lv’s Tasty section.

Substitutions: Search as I might, the closest thing I could find to grey peas in Glasgow was chickpeas. Is it sacrilege to admit to using chickpeas for this?

Makes:  2 half-dishes (18.5g carbs each; 37g carbs the whole pan).

Rating:  60 – plenty of simple, hearty potential, but just tasted a bit plain in the end.

V.K.Z.

Anyone for pork, dumplings and sauerkraut with a side serving of nature financing?

Hiking trail to Sněžka, a Czech mountain on the border with Poland

Vepřo Knedlo Zelo, the national dish of Czechia, falls decidedly into the ‘hearty food’ camp.  Its name basically describes its components – roast pork, a sliced dumpling log, and the ubiquitous pickled cabbage preparation.  Sounds just like the kind of thing you’d expect from central Europe, wouldn’t you say?  Surely a relatively high-latitude country of beautiful forests and mountains is going to need some warming winter cuisine more than occasionally.

Elsewhere on the warming front, world leaders gathered at comfy Sharm El Sheikh for climate talks last week.  This 27^th Convention of Parties is still ongoing, and – despite now being overshadowed by the G20 meeting in Bali – is still getting far more publicity than next month’s biodiversity summit.  However, climate chaos remains just one symptom of the bigger problem we have in looking after the planet.  In the EU, then, the biggest conservation story probably remains the Global Biodiversity Framework. (Ukraine runs a close second, but I’ll not write about it yet as it happens not to be Czechia.)

Czechia took the EU Presidency over from France this July, and will be in post at the time of the Nature COP in Montréal.  Just the other week, I was fortunate enough to attend a meeting between the Czech EU Presidency and the CBD Alliance, a civil society network seeking to have a positive influence on the Framework.  The subjects on the table for the 2-hour dialogue included conservation financing, human rights, benefits-sharing for digital sequencing of wildlife DNA, and framework implementation.  The Czech representatives talked quite a good game on the surface, but what can we tell from the detail?

Sadly, little of real substance seemed to be forthcoming.  While the specifics are (for now) confidential, let’s just say they looked more like what Greta would call “business as usual” than a truly transformative agenda.  Given that some consider the EU to be the most ambitious of the Global North parties to the Convention, this feels somewhat disappointing.

I recently started work as a principal ornithologist at WSP.  It was very pleasing to see WSP honoured in Fast Company’s “144 Brands that Matter in 2022” list in the past few days.  To gain recognition as “the engineering consultancy shaping how cities serve their citizens sustainably” is one (albeit really encouraging) thing.  To be one of over 59,000 people working on the mission is another.  Is it too much to ask that the EU, with its comparable 60,000 staff, step up in the field of global environmental policy?

With thanks to Noa Steiner for her perspective on the content of the meeting.

–

Dumplings – like the GBF – in preparation

Recipe:  The National Dish Of Czech Republic – Vepřo Knedlo Zelo by Kalle on Ingmar (a website that recently seems to have been taken over by a drug and gambling mafia, though it still hosts a few recipes!) and a similar article on nationalfoods.org.

Substitutions:  For making my own sauerkraut, I went with the option of adding red, rather than white, onions.

Makes:  4 servings (≤ 65g carbs per portion).

Notes:  I found I needed around 15 minutes for the yeast-foaming stage and 1-2 hours for the dumplings to rise.

Drink with:  Czech pilsner – anything from the Sainsbury’s one pictured below (which was wholly decent) to a genuine native brand with a name you can’t pronounce.

Rating:  85 (ratings explained here, under the potato mixture photo).  The country formerly known as the Czech Republic takes the lead in the culinary stakes with a very moreish combination.  The rich meatiness does its thing, the fresh dumplings surprise with a genius little hint of bitterness, and the sauerkraut is very tolerable (not to mention helpful in aiding along the digestion).  Warming winter dish, I salute you.

Cheers!

Meatballs!

During which: children sing badly, a Scandi academic writes about fish pudding, and biodiversity talks stall again.

Ah, the legendary comestible that is Swedish meatballs… .  Muppet sketches aside, Svenska köttbullar (as it’s known in its own backyard) is another Scandinavian dish that is a.) made with autumnal Northern European ingredients, and b.) not vegetarian.  More unexpectedly, it’s also the first national dish to come with its own song.  

The tune in question – Ge mig mera köttbullar – comes from a story by Swedish children’s author Astrid Lindgren.  The song is apparently meant to be sung whilst making the food.  While the version I found on YouTube was performed indescribably badly, I did enjoy this translation of the lyrics:

Meatballs, meatballs, meatballs

Give me more meatballs, small tasty meatballs

Give me more meatballs, fresh fried meatballs

Give me more meatballs, small brown meatballs

Give me more meatballs

I want meatballs right away

Because they taste so good and I like that

Step 1: mix.

The song also features in an academic paper in the Nordic Journal of Art and Research, which discusses the different foods featured in the song in their social and economic context.  The wartime children in the story hate “abominable” fish pudding, but are wealthy enough to be able to choose meatballs instead.  When it comes to life choices and poverty, there is a definite parallel with what is happening today.  Those of us with more resources and more choice need to be very careful to make those choices responsibly.  Otherwise, we will more and more end up confining those who have fewer resources to the bin-ends, left-overs and sacrifice zones.  That is not what a caring society does.

The fish pudding story is also a reminder that Sweden is a country with a 2,000-mile coastline.  Back on the last day of the Geneva conference, Sweden made a rare move in support of discussions for the conservation and sustainable use of marine and coastal biodiversity.  As with many issues, a number of parties felt that not enough time had been given to discuss a strategy (in this case for ecologically or biologically significant areas of ocean, or “EBSAs”).

The technical conversation around this has been parked for now, with the next round of UN CBD talks in Nairobi focusing instead on the existing draft Global Biodiversity Framework text.  The Nairobi meeting – which finished yesterday – was somewhat ambitiously shoehorned into a week, despite major differences between several parties on several matters. Some strides forward were taken, but overall progress was limited – so much so that a fifth intersessional meeting has had to be called prior to the final talks.

Steps 2 and 3: shape and fry.

Sweden will also hold the EU presidency in 2023, after France and Czechia.  By this time, the World Cup will have been won, the Global Biodiversity Framework agreed (finally), and Russia still be fighting Ukraine (probably).  Many plates of meatballs with creamy sauce and lingonberry jam will have been served, both within and beyond Sweden.  Will you be making one of them?  Who will win the World Cup?  What do you want to see in the GBF?  Any and all answers welcome below!

Steps 4 and 5: make sauce, combine.

Recipes: “Swedish Meatballs (Svenska Köttbullar with Lingonberries)” by Angela @ Bake It With Love; “Svenska Köttbullar – Authentic Swedish Meatballs” from All that’s Jas.

Substitutions:  I had to use redcurrant jam instead of lingonberry jam, which really isn’t easy to find in Glasgow.

Makes: 13 large meatballs (with sauce, circa 4g carbs each; 56g carbs for the whole lot).

Notes:  If using Jas’s soy sauce rather than Angela’s recommended Worcestershire sauce, only use a teaspoon.  If you’re wondering why neither of them sound very Swedish… well, that’s a great example of cuisine adapting due to globalisation.

Rating: 70 (explained here).

Norwegian Would

The episode in which grown men play with a toy sheep and Scandinavia wrestles with Brazil.

If I were selling you the national dish fårikål in autumn or winter, I could talk about its juicy warmth and its comforting Scandinavian flavours.  In fact, if you’re currently somewhere like New Zealand, that’s exactly why you should read this blog.  Everyone else will have to content themselves with political alliances, ease of cooking, and a knitting guru playing with a fat, fluffy sheep.

Next stop on our culinary and nature policy tour of Europe is Norway, another of Britain’s close neighbours.  The thinking behind my ‘tour route’ is that countries closer to the UK should, in theory, be using relatively similar – and easier-to-get-hold-of – ingredients.  While I still have little idea how I’m going to resolve Iceland, the prediction holds true for Norway.  Fårikål translates simply as ‘lamb in cabbage,’ as demonstrated by the rather charming knitting enthusiasts Arne & Carlos in this recipe video.

The recipe itself is very simple – cut a big white cabbage into large slices, layer some fatty cuts of good-quality lamb in the bottom of a pot, then add alternating layers of cabbage, seasoning and lamb, ending with cabbage.  Some recipes also invite sliced carrots to the party.  Either way, water is added and the pot is brought to a boil on the stove, then steamed over a very low heat for around 2½ hours.  The finished stew is then mixed and served, often with a side dish such as boiled new potatoes.  Your home will be infused with a hearty aroma for a little while longer than the food lasts, but in my opinion that’s a bonus.

Norway is within the European Economic Area, but not the EU.  As a result, the country briefly became famous in UK public debate for the ‘Norway-style Brexit.’  Norway has limited trade barriers with the EU, but needs to keep most EU rules (without a real say in making them).  In the end, the UK decided not to follow this Norwegian template for relationships with the EU.  When it comes to negotiating at the UN Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD), though, the UK and Norway both form part of the JASCANZ negotiating bloc.

JASCANZ is a collaboration mostly of industrialised Global North nations, also including Japan, Australia, Canada, Switzerland, Iceland, Israel and (cheekily, as it’s not a party to the CBD) the US.  During the Geneva talks in March, JASCANZ positioned itself in favour of ambitious goals and willingness to find creative solutions.  Norway spoke at several points during the sessions, including in support of numerical targets (increasing ecosystem area, connectivity and integrity by X%) and the addition of semi-natural ecosystems to the related Goal A. 

The Norwegian representative also took a deserved sideswipe at the Brazilian delegation, who appeared to have come with an agenda of slowing and watering down the talks as much as possible.  These tactics – shared by at least a few other South American nations – really highlighted a weakness in the Global Biodiversity Framework (GBF) process.  The GBF is meant to be drawn up by consensus, with in-person negotiations included to iron out the differences.  It takes an awful lot of skill to get a meaningful agreement if certain parties don’t want to make one.

I tend towards the pessimistic about the likelihood of much useful coming out of the continued nature talks.  However, one thing I’ve been learning is that the process is sometimes as important as the end goal.  If the GBF encourages businesses, say, or a few influential parties to make more urgent and positive changes due to intergovernmental inaction, it won’t have been a total waste of time.  Still, as slow as my fårikål might have been on the hob, it turned out pretty well in the end – so here’s working, hoping and praying for a good final text!  

Is the GBF process flagging?  Here are a few of the countries we’ll be ‘visiting’ in future weeks.  For now, try and spot the difference between the Netherlands and Luxembourg.

Recipes: “Fårikål – Norwegian Lamb and Cabbage Stew” by Marianne in Switzer on Food; Fårikål (sheep in cabbage) by ARNE & CARLOS on YouTube. Having their name in capitals like that makes them look like house DJs, though I’m not sure that’s quite the vibe they were going for.

Substitutions:  None.

Makes: 2 very large portions (4g carbs per portion, without potatoes).

Notes:  As suggested by the recipes, the dish does indeed taste better on the second day.  I added a single large carrot as a compromise between the different schools of thought.  It is worth including.

Rating: 73 (explained here).  Nice, but not off-the-scale amazing.  Maybe the GBF can even outscore it. Maybe.

The Mussels from Brussels

Ah, moules frîtes – a national dish of saucy mussels and fries.  This recipe, while similar to the better-known moules marinière, is arguably tastier. 

First, potatoes are cut into thin chips and seasoned.  A home-made mayonnaise is made as an accompaniment.  Thinly-sliced roots, thyme, parsley and a bit of chilli pepper are then cooked in olive oil until wilted.  Mussels, white wine and a spirit such as Pernod are added, and these ingredients cooked for a few more minutes.  The mussels and vegetables are drained and removed, then the chips are deep-fried.  Crème fraîche and whole parsley leaves are added to the reserved liquid. This mixture is heated whilst shaking, before re-adding the seafood and veg, dishing out, and serving with the mayonnaise and fries.  Amazing!

As well as observing this lovely food in preparation, geeks may notice that I write my own alt text

Belgium is a country of two halves, with a north-south spilt like Germany, only stronger.  Flemish (northern) influences dominate the country in many ways.  However, like a lot of the more famous Belgian exports, this dish speaks French (southern) instead.  Having said this, moules frîtes finds widespread love across the country – a bit like the national football team, but more crispy.

Environmental attitudes in Belgium (protect it rather than hunt it, for instance) also probably tend more towards the Dutch.  In wildlife terms, Belgium is notable for its border wetlands (shared with the Netherlands to the north), protected forests, and post-mining landscapes that support rare owls and abundant dragonflies.  As the main seat of the European Union, its capital Brussels is also popular with lobbying organisations.  Agrochemicals federation CropLife International (who were at the working group in Geneva) is headquartered in Brussels, while Environmental lawyers ClientEarth also have a major office in the city.

As for the Belgian government, it has developed an interesting focus on the links between the natural world and human health. In 2011, Belgium launched a Community of Practice on Biodiversity and Health.  This then led to the launch of the One Health network in 2019, which focuses “on nature-related human health risks and benefits,” as well as “animal, plant and environment health.”  Encouragingly, this seems to be well-embedded in the Belgian health service, rather than just being a niche concept for a few researchers in Leuven and Liège.

The kind of statements coming out of One Health include this one – which, though wordy, is very positive about collaboration:

“To avoid new systemic shocks […] we need a broader vision and a long-term strategy that addresses socio-economic, environmental and health challenges together and can make the post-crisis society and economy more resilient, sustainable and fair.”

The research, policy and practice communities desperately need to break out of their different silos if they are to have more of an impact for good.  Every interdisciplinary partnership like this one has the potential to be part of something special. 

Health and biodiversity go together like moules and frîtes

Health also seems to be a main Belgian concern in international nature negotiations.  Perhaps the most controversial side of this is Belgium’s advocacy for the Global Biodiversity Framework (GBF) to address population growth.  While a definite part of the policy landscape, this is one emotionally-charged area I don’t feel I can do justice to – yet – in a recipe blog post!

Nonetheless, for the time being, health strategies – like most areas of the GBF – seem to have gained little agreement.  Towards the end of GBF discussions in Geneva, Belgium’s representative:

“Noted his disappointment on the outcome of negotiations, and that the relevant action plan will be discussed at COP-16 rather than COP-15.”

I hope he comforted himself with a healthy, delicious and sustainable version of the national dish.

Recipe: “Moules Frites” by Gordon Ramsay on BBC Good Food.

Substitutions:  I used four pouches of Sainsbury’s Scottish mussels in white wine instead of fresh mussels and white wine.  I cooked this recipe way back in the autumn (hence a massive backlog of blog posts pending) but good local mussels should be available again in the UK in September.

Makes: 4 portions (31g carbs per portion when using the mussel pouches).

Notes:  I’d recommend aiming for the frîtes to be golden brown rather than russet brown.

Rating: 80 (ratings explained here).  Flipping delicious, just a tad messy.

Me being me, I decided it would be fun to pit the national recipes against each other in the style of football championship qualification.  Europe’s countries (politically) don’t correspond exactly with the footballing nations, but do divide quite nicely into groups of six.  Hence, Group 1 of finishes as follows:

Belgium 80

Belarus 72

Ireland 70

Germany 68

Denmark 67

France 49

If this was football (which it isn’t), that would be an unimaginably tough qualifying group.  Still, I think it’s fair to say that France finishing bottom of the group is a culinary surprise.  Congratulations to Belgium and Belarus, though, whose national dishes will be served to guests in the ‘championship’ so they can be judged with more representative scores.

Pot on the Fire

Not just one pot on the fire, but three… and all on a free blog. I do declare!

French cuisine.  Elegant, Mediterranean, summery, with plenty of wine and olive oil – right?  Computer says yes… but national dish says no.

Pot-au-feu (‘pot on the fire’) is a wintry root vegetable stew that feels a million miles from all that. Apparently, top French chef Raymond Blanc calls it “the quintessence of French family cuisine, […] the most celebrated dish in France. It honours the tables of the rich and poor alike.”  Today, it’s time to honour my table with it.

The recipe starts with preparing onion, garlic, celery, a kind of bouquet garni of herbs and several cuts of beef.  These are then covered in cold water, seasoned and gently simmered for 2-4 hours.  The top of the pot needs skimming from time to time, and more water may need to be added as you go along.

Oh… so maybe you need to chop the leeks first.

So, while that’s spending three hours on the stove, let’s get back to the UN Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD).  France currently has the EU Council presidency, which means that it is very worth talking – and listening – to ahead of the upcoming CBD session in Nairobi.  Interestingly, the first word of France’s presidency motto (yes, that’s a thing) is described as:

“Recovery, to enable Europe to support the ecological and digital transitions”

The French EU presidency website expands on the ecological transition: “Our priority will be the establishment of carbon pricing at the EU borders for imported products.  It is a matter of economic and ecological efficiency.”  Now, a sceptic could easily challenge this emphasis as the usual highfalutin’, low-on-action words from President Macron, plus a dose of punishing the UK for Brexit.  However, language is still important – and it’s already encouraging to see the priority defined in terms of ecology rather than solely climate. 

Climate change is just one of the many ecological problems the world faces.  That doesn’t make it any less of an issue than most people think, though – it just underlines that the problems we have are far, far greater than simply needing to suck CO₂ out of the air, plant trees and tax imports for carbon. 

Still, a carbon tax could be a very useful step.  The UCCLAN position I was advocating for in Geneva (and we will continue to push for in Nairobi) includes a reformation of subsidies, taxes and government incentives.  Putting €-signs on an invaluable resource such as nature isn’t a problem-free idea.  In fact, it is something Bolivia argued strongly against in Geneva.  If nature is treated as buyable, tradeable and offsetable, there is a risk that it gets viewed as disposable.  Nonetheless, that’s essentially the position much of the world already takes.  Including something of the true environmental cost of harmful production processes within our tax system, then, has to be worth a shot.  If we don’t, many businesses will probably just carry on using the same short-term, profit-obsessed thinking that got us into half this mess in the first place.

Here in the UK, our government has shown some (perhaps belated) willingness to ‘skim the fat.’  In the past month, Chancellor Rishi Sunak announced a windfall tax on oil and gas companies after their recent profit rises.  However – globally – the value of environmentally-harmful subsidies that undermine the CBD’s objectives is still almost seven times higher than the amount of public money that supports them.  If you look at private investment, the amount of harmful investment is a painful 260 times (!) as much as supportive investment.  Politicians will probably continue to diverge about how big state intervention should be.  Should private investment be regulated more tightly to prevent ecological damage?  If so, how much more?  At the least, though, there is a very good case that public finances need to be directed towards stopping environmental meltdown. 

Yes, public finances are squeezed.  No, there are no simple decisions.  But if nothing changes… well, we’ll have an environmental meltdown.  That doesn’t necessarily mean the end of civilisation – but would you rather share the world with 400,000 different plant species, 5,500 species of mammal, 10,000 kinds of birds, etc., etc… or just a small selection of them such as rats, cockroaches, toxic hogweed and feral pigeons?

My beef is with unjust tax regimes.

Well, it’s time for me to skim a literal layer of fat from the broth of my pot-au-feu.  Thereafter, root vegetables, cabbage, more simmering, skimming, seasoning and finally separating into a soup and a substantial main course.  (Now – there’s enough alliteration to keep a poet happy.)  If you decide it’s for you, give it a go and let me know how it goes.  If you’re a chancellor, president or prime minister and try an environmentally-positive tax regime… also let me know how it goes!

Recipe: “Classic Pot-au-Feu (French Boiled Beef and Vegetables) Recipe” by Daniel Gritzer on Serious Eats.

Substitutions:  oxtail soup instead of oxtail, which I couldn’t find as a separate ingredient.

Makes: 7 portions (total 120g carbs, rising to 141g if oxtail soup is used; 21g to 25g carbs per portion – but acts like it contains more).

Notes:  wants more pepper than the recipe suggests. Make the initial pinch of salt VERY generous, or season with more at the table.  To drink, Merlot makes a pretty good accompaniment.

Rating: 49 (ratings system is explained here). There is only so much boiled celeriac a man can eat.

In A Right Old Stew

Getting ready for action.  I don’t always cook like this.

If I mention a geographical divide in Germany, most people will probably think of the former East and West German republics. However, as great as that political rupture was, there is a more fundamental division. Culturally, Germany is a country of north and south – the plain-speaking, relatively low-lying and historically Protestant north and the florid, forested and traditionally Romish south with its deep dialects. Perhaps one reason why the post-War carving up of Germany felt so painful – and one reason the Berlin Wall didn’t last any longer than it did – was precisely because that division didn’t fall along natural lines.

Broadly speaking, the north/south split also holds true gastronomically. This makes choosing a national dish hard. Germany’s national dish is considered by many to be Sauerbraten – a dark, heavily-marinated, southern pot roast of beef, red wine, vegetables and vinegar. When I asked my North German mama about the recipe, though, her response was: “My mother made that once. I didn’t particularly like it, and she didn’t make it again. It wasn’t bad… it just wasn’t anything special for us.” Their ‘national’ dish wasn’t really her national dish.

Welcome to more than 2kg of marinating beef.

Now, Germany has been around (and well-populated) for a while – allowing a wealth of subcultures to develop. However, it is not a huge country. It is the 19th-most populous in the world, but in terms of land and sea area it only ranks 64th. People live fairly close to each other. You’d think that most of them might be able to agree on a few things, right? Well – on the face of it, food isn’t one of them.

Consider, then, the difficulty in getting something as complex as a United Nations convention – where countries from all over the globe have to agree – to work. I was recently blessed with the opportunity to represent my alumni network at the UN Convention on Biological Diversity’s 3rd Open-Ended Working Group in Geneva. As wonderful and as intriguing as it was, though, I came away with the distinct impression that the CBD’s procedures are dysfunctional.

At the UN, Germany speaks as part of the European Union (another layer of complexity). The EU wants nature-based solutions and an end to plastic pollution. Canada seeks recognition of indigenous rights and a baseline level for extinction rate targets. Bolivia demands that the rights of Mother Earth are respected, rather than nature being commodified. African countries request a share of the profits from DNA discovered in African soil samples. Brazil wants nothing but (it seems) money and the right to keep chopping down its rainforests. Little wonder, then, that the Guardian paints a bleak picture of the negotiations – which have since been extended to squeeze in an unexpected fourth session in Nairobi.

Sauerbraten wants two hours of cooking, and advocates that you keep a watchful eye on potential burning at the bottom of the pan.

In one sense, this doesn’t surprise me. Nothing in this world will ever be 100% perfect this side of eternity coming to earth. However, wouldn’t it be a good idea to try a more co-operative way of working?

Recipe: https://www.daringgourmet.com/authentic-german-sauerbraten/#wprm-recipe-container-47478

Makes: 5 man-dinners’ worth (25g carbs each)

Rating: 68.

Danny’s first contribution at the CBD:

Esteemed delegates

My name is Daniel Flenley, representing academic and research institutions, including the University of Cambridge Conservation Leadership Alumni, a network of over 200 conservation leaders from 85 countries.

Our request is that you bear in mind 3 evidence-based points during the resumed session:

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT,
ACTION, and
ACCOUNTABILITY.

We must acknowledge all drivers of biodiversity loss.  This should lead us to empower stakeholders and champions, recognising good leadership – collective crisis leadership – as a critical component of success.

We must act with utmost urgency to halt extinction.  To do this, we need to restructure policy tools – including subsidies and taxes – leaving no-one behind.  Together, we can evolve from a GDP-driven economy to one that truly reflects human and planetary wellbeing.

We must establish accountability mechanisms.  How?  By being transparent, taking care to communicate well with each other, and agreeing stepping-stones for progress and impact – rapid and long-lasting impact.

So please Acknowledge, Act, and be Accountable – As soon as possible.

Madame President – thank you.