The New York Times reports that more and more people are buying shares of small farms, mostly on the coasts and around the Great Lakes region, which guarantee them a percentage of the season’s harvest. This “community-supported agriculture” model has exploded from fewer than 100 farms in the early 90s to nearly 1,500 in recent years. Helping out is optional, although we’re not sure the real farmers would appreciate our constant bitching about being in the sun. (I worked summers hoeing cotton fields in Texas, which is partly why I moved to NYC.)
12-year-old Megan Templeton was shopping with her father for some watermelons and hamburgers for their Memorial Day cook-out when she was stung by a stowaway scorpion that had made a home in the produce section of her local Walmart.
Last week a Florida journalist busted Burger King VP Stephen Grover for using his tween-aged daughter’s email account to slam a farm workers group—but that wasn’t the only weird email event related to this story. Now Burger King is taking steps to officially distance itself from Grover’s actions and the other internal emails by announcing it’s launched an “internal investigation” into all three.
The next time Burger King VP Stephen Grover goes online to spread FUD about labor advocates, he should probably leave his daughter out of it. For one thing, she’s a horrible accomplice and will spill her guts to the first reporter who calls. For another thing, this forthrightness clearly makes her too ethical to smear a group that’s trying to bring pay for tomato pickers up to living wage levels.
Jose writes, I thought that the long lines and the produce always being out of stock was bad enough, but then I noticed the small family of birds living at my local Safeway (Nutley St, Fairfax, VA).
Burger King has been fighting with tomato pickers in southern Florida for two years, refusing to pay a penny more per pound. Now the burger chain has announced that they may simply buy their tomatoes somewhere else.
You know how it is, picking at knots for minutes, whittling down your fingernails, and then you get frustrated and say forget it, I’m going to eat some cookies from this nice, easy jar.