Here’s the deal with cow burps (and not eating like a cow)
Why would a rancher want to feed seaweed to cattle? The answer is entangled in science, industrial farming and a reluctance to try new food.
Dear Climate Culinarians,
I’m going to say it like it is: Cows would be very bad food writers.
Their hooves are tough on keyboards, and don’t even get a cow started on holding pens. Above all, cows hate trying new food. They are like the type of American who eats at Burger King and Starbucks, even when in Rome. Cows stick to grass. And yet, humans try very hard to make cows eat something else. How does that make sense?
Food for thought: Cows, climate change, and complicated solutions we may not need
It’s the economy, darling! After all, the majority of Americans eat cheeseburgers and pour milk into their coffee. That calls for a lot of beef and dairy. And cows fatten up quicker or produce more milk if you coax them away from high-fiber grass and put them on a high-energy diet. So that’s what American ranchers do.
There’s a whole system of getting cows away from grass. Beef cattle, for instance, spend only about half of their lives on pasture. After that, they stand on mud.
In a patchwork of corrals called feedlot, ranchers transition calves to a mix of hay, corn, soybeans and other ingredients. Milk cows get special diets, too. Scientists even research feed that will improve a cow’s unpleasant burps.
Say what now? Why would I care about a cow’s burps?
Cows burp methane. And methane pollutes the air and heats our planet. Which leads to weather extremes like droughts. Which parch grass and destroy food sources for cows. Which keep burping. Now, that’s a vicious cycle if I’ve ever seen one. Are you dizzy yet?
Methane is about 80 times more powerful at warming the atmosphere than carbon dioxide over a 20-year period. It also contributes to the formation of ground-level ozone, a gas that is harmful to humans.
And the reason why cows emit this gas is rooted in what they eat. Grass.
Have you ever tried eating grass?
I certainly wouldn’t recommend it. You could eat small amounts of grass – but soon you’d hit digestive problems. Grass is full of woodsy, hard fibers that humans literally can’t stomach. Cows can.
Cows have four (!) stomachs teeming with microbes ready to break down grass. And along the way, these microbes produce methane. Cows let them do their thing for hours. Then they regurgigate the grass to thoroughly chew on it – and the methane goes up into the air.
Some other animals like sheep and deer ruminate, too. And several kinds of food lead to greenhouse gas emissions. On the top, by far: beef.
Digest this: Scientists try to make cows eat seaweed!
Scientists wondered if feeding cows a different food could change just this part, the methane emissions. They fed red seaweed (Asparagopsis taxiformis) or plants like oregano to a small group of cattle and then coaxed each one into funny-looking gear to measure the methane in the cow’s breath. According to these studies, some of these foods works: I read about a 28 percent reduction here, 55 percent there, over 80 percent there. Seaweed looks like a winner. And also really pretty!
But how on earth in the sea could we grow gazillions of pounds of a particular seaweed? How would farmers get their cows to eat this thing that is not, you know, grass? Even when the animals are out on pasture? No one said this idea was an easy fix.
And then there’s the question if this solution is missing the point. Political economist Jan Dutkiewicz puts it this way: “It’s the cow, not the how.”
Greenhouse gas emissions caused by livestock are a complicated problem, and feeding cows a certain food is a complicated solution.
There are about 100 million cattle in the U.S. alone, and 1.5 billion world wide. Reducing their methane emissions through feed would be an enormous, expensive undertaking.
All the while, environmental risks stunt beef markets. With ongoing droughts, ranchers can’t find enough water or grass for their cattle herds. Floods kill cows, hurricanes destroy farms.
And people turn away from red meat for health reasons.
All of that points to an easier solution than making cows eat seaweed:
Less cows = less methane.
This, of course, could easily be achieved - by eating less beef. Which makes some people feel like they will be denied food, period. That is far from true for the U.S., where we enjoy an abundance of choices when it comes to nutrition.
But fear is powerful, as is defiance. So it’s easy to paint this beef* as an all-or-nothing situation. Even though it isn’t. Some eat whatever they feel like unless it’s Meatless Monday (or Taco Tuesday, but that’s a different story). Some embark on a mission to find the best veggie burger. Some go vegan. Some just switch beef for chicken more often.
*ha! You didn’t really expect me to stay away from the most obvious pun, did you?
What if … the idea of eating less beef sparks curiosity: What else is on the menu?
I used all this cow burp research as an opportunity to try new food, but not in the way you might think (as you will see in the recipe later on). I’m very glad that as a human culinarian, I’m not stuck on eating one thing. Like a cow. Are you?
Tell me about our favorite find when trying new food!
Reading Room: Math for cows, seaweed-entangled stories, and a chocolate shock
I love to share what I’ve been reading - and also what’s in my “books to read next” stack. This time, my recs feature both favorite reads and favorite eats!
Cow calculus with an attitude
If you want to do the math behind feeding seaweed to cows, political economist Jan Dutkiewicz has spelled it all out, especially the parts that don’t make sense to him. His piece for The New Republic is not without digs and barbs, but he grounds his remarks on facts and figures.
Wait, there’s a problem with chocolate, too?
Cocoa is one of the victims of climate change, and prices have already gone up. Devika Rao describes how chocolate manufacturers try to adjust, which you can read about in her article in The Week. It made me wonder if I should grow fava beans somewhere.
I know it’s early, but: If you read one book this year … consider this
When writing this newsletter, I’ve been chomping at the bit to shift the focus from cows to seaweed. And that’s Susan Hand Shetterly’s responsibility! She wrote Seaweed Chronicles, my favorite book about seaweed, and perhaps my favorite nonfiction book, period. Shetterly weaves nature adventures involving the Maine coast’s seeweeds into stories about the creatures and humans who are connected to it – among them birds, invasive crabs, fishermen and policymakers.
Enjoy all this … with Mushrooms in Red Wine
This is a double first for me: I have never shared a recipe that I hadn’t made and tested several times, and I have never made anything like this dish.
I was in the mood to try something new and, at the same time, surprise a loved-one with something familiar to them (but not me): French cuisine. This recipe borrows from a French beef stew, but it’s prepared by someone – me – who never learned or tried French cooking. My test audience was delighted, so I’ll share this recipe with you, even though I cooked it only once.
Mushrooms in Red Wine
Feeds 2 people (more if you use it as a side)
Ingredients:
1-2 Tbsp olive oil
1 box (8 ounces) brown mushrooms (like baby bella, look for small ones!)
3 Tbsp butter (or vegan butter)
1 1/2 Tbsp all-purpose flour
1/2 yellow onion
1 celery stalk
3 garlic cloves
1 tsp dried thyme
2 medium-sized carrots
10 pearl onions, roughly the same size
3/4 cup red wine (about 6 ounces)
2 cups vegetable stock
a few grinds of black pepper
salt, only if needed
Make it:
Prep all the veggies so you can pay attention to cooking later:
Brush any soil from the mushrooms. Cut stems and finely chop them, set aside. Leave the rest of the mushrooms whole.
Inspect pearl onions, peel, cut any dried parts, but leave each onion whole.
Cut carrots into coins, about 1/2 inch thin.
Dice yellow onion and celery stalk.
Mince garlic.
Set a large pan to medium-high heat. Add olive oil, and when it shimmers, add whole mushrooms. Let cook for about 8 min, until a little browned on one side. Remove from pan.
In the same pan, melt the butter. Stir in flour, turn down to medium heat and keep stirring until the mix looks light brown and well mixed. Add diced onion, celery, and mushroom stems. Cook, stirring now and then, for 3-4 minutes. Add garlic and thyme and cook for another minute.
Pour in red wine and stir, gently scraping up browned parts from the bottom of the pan. Reduce this mix (let it bubble) for about 2 min.
Add pearl onions and carrots, swish around until everything is coated in wine. Then add vegetable broth, turn heat to high. Bring back to a boil, then turn down heat to medium.
Cook, uncovered, about 10 min. The carrots and onions should be cooked, but still have a bite.
Add whole mushrooms and stir, making sure they are coated in sauce. The sauce should thicken by now. Cook for another few minutes to heat through. Add pepper, and check if you need any salt.
I believe a shared meal is the best opportunity to talk about climate solutions. And about food, of course. So I hope you’ll enjoy these cow-burp-free mushrooms in good company.
Read, write, eat, repeat!
Petrina
Climate Culinarians is a project by me, Petrina Engelke. I write about climate, food and the U.S., and I help other writers turn their ideas into a book people want to read. In other words: I’m a journalist and a book coach. If you’re a writer, too, check out my other newsletter, How to Write About Climate and Food.