day ten, taking squab off the menu

My name is Maia, and I'm an Eco Parent.

An Eco Parent, for those of you who have not yet had the pleasure, is one who has chosen to focus the majority of one's parenting self-righteousness on their ability to Save the Planet via their children. Eco Parents shop consignment, because new is selfish and creates more waste. Eco Parents buy organic and local and BPA free because toxins are bad for the environment, not to mention sperm count. Eco Parents are, at times, overly vocal about their avoidance of plastic toys, quoting Swedish studies about phthalates and New Zealand reports on crib death. Eco Parents, the true, the staunch, the dedicated, use cloth diapers.

For 22 months, we have wrapped those prize winning asses in soft, bleach free cloth. This means that, over the course of those 22 months, we saved approximately 8000 diapers from an eternal life in a trash heap. It's a lot of diapers. And yes, the water to clean them and transporting them to us and all of that make an impact, it's not a perfect system, but in the long term (and with fingers crossed that alternative fuel sources - and no, McCain, I don't mean drilling in Alaska - finally get their day) we're going to leave slightly smaller of a mark. Cloth diapers were pretty easy, really. But you have to pack out the dirty ones, meaning the diaper bag gets heavier - and stinkier! - over the course of the day. And you can't throw them out, so in the heat things get pungent. This was all doable when we lived in Los Angeles, because everything could just go in the trunk and, voila!, problem solved. Here in the Big Apple, you either put the dirties in your purse or your apartment, which, purse trends and Manhattan apartments being what they are, are relatively the same size.

We gave up cloth diapers about two weeks ago. On Earth Day. There was a concession - disposable diapers in, meat out. Or mostly. Two days a week we are vegetarian and our meat consumption is on a local product only basis. After my wife concocted this genius and uncharacteristically hippy scheme, I made some sort of wise crack about how I was going to miss eating squab, and what terrible timing, all things considered.

"What do you mean you're not eating squab? What's squab?" asked my mother-in-law.

"Squab is baby pigeon." I am, of course, not only an expert on pigeons but also a die hard watcher of Top Chef.

"Oh my god, no it's not. I thought squab was something else. Like quail."

"Nope."

"Are you sure?"

I consult Wikipedia because for a second I am not sure, but still very sure, but need to prove a point.

Squab, in culinary terms, is the meat of a young, domestic pigeon. Squab for the table is about one month old, when the birds have reached adult size but cannot yet fly. It turns out that this age is good, not only because the meat is more tender but because it's much easier to hunt birds that can't elude you. Talk about fish in a barrel.

Crispy Squab with Homemade Plum Sauce

* 2 squabs, 12 to 16 ounces each, cleaned and rinsed
* 3 cups chicken stock
* 1 cup roughly chopped green onions
* 3 tablespoons minced fresh garlic
* 5 tablespoons soy sauce
* 2 tablespoons minced fresh ginger
* 2 tablespoons rice wine or dry sherry
* 2 tablespoons dark brown sugar
* 1 tablespoon honey
* Homemade Plum Sauce

- Blanch the squabs for 2 minutes in boiling water. Set aside.

- In a medium saucepan, combine the chicken stock, green onions, garlic, light and dark soy sauce, ginger, rice wine, brown sugar, honey, and salt and bring to a boil. Add the squabs and simmer uncovered for 20 minutes.

- In a medium pot heat enough peanut oil to come halfway up the sides to 350 degrees F. Carefully add the squabs and fry until the skins are crisp and golden brown, about 3 minutes. Remove and drain on paper towels.

- Mound rice in the center of 2 plates and drizzle with a small amount of the poaching liquid, if desired. Place the squabs in the center of the rice and spoon the Plum Sauce over the top of the birds. Garnish with chopped green onions. Serve hot.


If only we had stayed with those cloth diapers for two more weeks and if only I hadn't grown so attached to the little guys because, wow, it doesn't get more local than this.