If you read food magazines, you might be lulled into thinking it’s all beautiful dishes, chi chi restaurants, hot chefs, quick recipes. In other words, fluff.

Barry Estabrook

But now and then something or someone breaks this gloss, bringing gritty, real-life problems to light. I find that it’s often Barry Estabrook writing for Gourmet. This month, Estabrook, whose pieces are titled “Politics of the Plate,” is writing about the hidden cost of winter tomatoes, and how those who work the fields in Florida are kept in virtual slavery.  The migrants, usually illegals from Mexico or Central America, are charged for everything from rent (often in the back of box truck) to meals to laundry. The result is that instead of sending money home to their families, they can owe money to the crew bosses. And this, as Estabrook points out, for tomatoes that have no taste.

His column is journalism of a high order — full of interviews, statistics, comparisons — about as far from fluff as you can get. It should be required reading for anyone who eats.

Ever had a food that seemed to call to you: “Eat me. Eat me?” Of course, you have, all you ice cream aficianados out there. My siren snack is walnuts. My sister-in-law Marilyn, who lives in Walnut Creek, Calif., fed right into my weakness this holiday season by sending hand-shelled walnuts from Mellow Farm that she bought at her local farmers’ market.

These make me rethink every prepackaged or even Whole Foods bulk buy of walnuts I’ve ever made. Each Mellow Farm walnut half is perfect with a beautifully clean flavor and great crunch. Each bite, and I’m smitten again. Walnuts are good for you — a great source of plant protein with fiber, vitamins B and E, and excellent omega 3 fatty acids. They’re also pretty high in calories. Moderation, counsel the nutritionists, is the key. Really hard to do when those walnuts are calling to me.

I looked up Mellow Farm, which is in Morgan Hill, Calif. It turns out the family has been farming since the 1800s, and are now into the fourth generation growing and selling fruit, walnuts, vegetables, and flowers, much of it at farmers’ market.  I’m violating the locavore code, of course, with a California food source, but still I can get the sense of the farm family and their pride in what they grow. That’s important to me. Marilyn just sent another batch of walnuts because she loves visiting the woman who sells them at the market. As for me, I’m willing to add extra exercise to compensate for the calories. After all, a little walnut addiction can’t hurt, can it?

As a long-time (if rather disorganized gardener), I offer a few tips for beginners:

1. Choose the seeds or seedlings you want and then prune the list by half. Gardening is back-breaking work, kids and spouses rarely follow through on promises to help, and investing in plants or seeds you can’t tend can be expensive and frustrating.
2. Remember that weather is the biggest factor and you can’t control it. Think about what grows well in New England’s climate. The reason for amusing anecdotes about spending three times as much growing a tomato as buying it is that New England is not Missouri or New Jersey – it doesn’t really have tomato weather. Some years you get lucky; other years, frost beats the harvest or rain washes out your crop. Grow them if you must, but also plan to frequent farmers’ markets where the experts have (usually) figured out how to work around Mother Nature.
3. Invest in what you and your family like. Lettuces, radishes, green beans, carrots and summer squashes do grow well, and you can easily keep those crops going for a good part of the summer and into the fall. Many herbs – tarragon, thyme, sage, oregano – are perennials and will come back for years. Blueberries and raspberries are also a good, long-term investment if you have room for the bushes or canes.
4. Ask questions at farmers’ markets or farm stands. Farmers are invaluable resources of knowledge, and most are happy to share what they know.
5. Plan to be organic, persistent, and eat what you grow. Gardening can be very rewarding, and there’s no reason to grow your own unless they’re the very best you can do.

You could call it Showdown on Congress Street. For a few years, Flour Bakery+Cafe had the monopoly on gentrified breakfast in the Fort Point Channel area of South Boston. The bright, welcoming  place, with owner Joanne Chang’s clever style and tasty pastries and sandwiches, drew a young, hip clientele of businesspeople, local residents, mothers with toddlers, and artists. And there was nothing much else around in what is supposed to be the new urban residential playground – depending on the path of the recession.  But now Flour’s hold on breakfast is challenged. Sportello, Barbara Lynch’s casual drugstore-fountain-style spot, is opening at 7 a.m. each morning for breakfast, coffee, pastries and more. It’s just around the corner from Flour. Let the battle — muffins as weapons of choice — begin!

“Who would have thought that banking would be a riskier business than owning a restaurant?” –New York Times Feb. 11, 2009

In the cold light of February 2009, this quote from Peter Zwiener, owner of the bicoastal Wolfgang’s Steakhouse, sounds apocryphal. After all, trend watchers show that Americans are clamping their wallets shut when it comes to dining out. And this winter’s relentless cold and snow have added to restaurant woes.

All over Boston, you hear the whispers, especially audible on those forlorn Mondays and Tuesdays when waiters stand idle: Which restaurants will be closed by spring? Who’s going to make – who’s going to fail?  When a high-end restaurant like Excelsior in Back Bay closes, the whispers grow louder. When a restaurant is opened or is repurposed – the Langham Hotel recently transformed the dignified Julien into the glitzy nightclub BOND (above) — the talk is of folly. 

We’re huddling around our stoves, hauling out our cookbooks, shopping for discount groceries, counting pennies. Are restaurants suddenly so last year?

Hold on! The economic situation is dismal, but I venture that restaurants are here to stay. Ever since a Frenchman started ladling out restorative soup in the 18th century and charging for it, people have been fascinated with restaurants. I don’t see that changing. Yes, restaurateurs have to be smart about their costs, and, yes, comfort food — or at least what the public views as affordable – are going to trump $45 entrees.  And maybe celebrity chefs will be a little less celebrated, and experimental cuisine a little less out-there.

Who knows what will become of financial derivatives, mortgage-backed securities, and all the other obscure ways the economy got into trouble. But food, and restaurants, will survive. In fact, BOND reportedly is packed. Restaurants in our future? I’ll bank on that.