“Frostbite” by Nicola Twilley

Frostbite by Nicola Twilley describes two centuries of development of refrigeration: from ice houses and wooden boxes of ice in the 19th century through early technology for railroad shipment of meat and produce and onward to our current situation where a “Cold Chain” transports optimally chilled food from farm to table. In the US today this huge network ensures that we have fresh produce and meat no matter how far our meals have had to travel. Here’s a summary from the end of the book:

“Since the early days of the ice trade, refrigeration has changed everything about how and what we eat—reshaping trade, transportation, politics, and economics in the process. It has redesigned not only the contents of our plates but also our bodies, our homes, our cities, our landscape, and the global atmosphere. … Fridges have freed women from daily shopping and made fresh food both affordable and available year-round. For some farmers, refrigeration has offered a route to riches—or a way to escape the land. …

“Still, a wholehearted appreciation of those benefits shouldn’t prevent us from counting the cold chain’s costs and considering its alternatives—especially as the rest of the world starts to refrigerate. Some of its disadvantages are inherent to the technology. It takes a lot of energy to remove heat, which has environmental consequences but also tends to create socioeconomic ones, as smaller farmers growing a diversity of foods for local consumption are less likely to benefit than large landholders cultivating export crops at scale. The resulting concentration and intensification have their own ecological impacts. … Other outcomes are enabled by the fridge rather than fundamental to it. Food waste is used as a justification for refrigeration, but refrigeration also seems to encourage waste. … Refrigeration tends to shift where the waste takes place, as opposed to eliminating it. … In short, our food system is frostbitten: it has been injured by its exposure to cold.” (p. 309-310)

Frostbite includes fascinating histories of changes in agriculture, shipping, industry, and domestic life. Refrigeration affects the way food is grown, transported, processed, and sold. Home refrigerators as well as industrial advances made enormous changes not only in what can be purchased and kept on hand in households, but also ultimately in what is eaten. Fresh produce from farms can be quickly chilled, shipped in refrigerated train cars or trucks, held in cold storage facilities, and then delivered to supermarket refrigerators. Produce like tomatoes and bananas is harvested early and ripened on demand. Consumers generally are unaware of this long process or of the surprising age of their "fresh" food. They don’t seem to notice the loss of flavor compared to naturally ripened local and seasonal fruit and vegetables.

Bagged salad mix is an example of a recent invention that depended on refrigeration and changed people’s eating habits. This product required unbelievable new technology to create the storage bags that kept the leaves alive. “Astonishingly, the bag itself—a cheap, disposable plastic lettuce bag—was a miniaturized version of [a] … controlled atmosphere warehouse. The microperforations in its carefully designed films let oxygen in at one rate and carbon dioxide out at another to maintain the ideal atmospheric microclimate around the leaves as they traveled the country and sat on supermarket shelves.” (p. 130)

Orange juice, another revolutionized product, was radically changed after World War II. In its new frozen-concentrate form, it became a commodity product, not something squeezed at home from a seasonal fruit. The availability of frozen orange juice affected both supply and demand, including many newly planted orchards in Florida; innovations in the processing, packaging, shipping, and retail environment; and family habits: “Frozen orange juice, as opposed to fish sticks, ice cream, or TV dinners, was the killer app for home freezers.” (p. 148) Fresh-chill juice, which has largely replaced frozen juice, is a subsequent invention dependent on the “cold chain.”

Every chapter of the book had a few surprises for me as I read. While the author was more focused on the American experience with the progression from ice houses to modern refrigerated warehouses and huge home refrigerators, there’s also quite a bit about the more recent proliferation of refrigeration to other countries — such as China (where we meet a “frozen dumpling millionaire”) and Ruanda (where virtually no cold storage is currently in use at all). The impact of continued expansion of supply-chain dependence on refrigeration, with its enormous and environmentally dangerous energy demands, is very interesting. I’ve read many books about the development of food technology and about changes in agriculture and taste, and this is a good one!

The Earliest Large-Scale Cold Technology

Frostbite described the earliest machinery for managing large quantities of meat and produce, especially for managing large animal carcasses, which require specialized chilling to create meat that is tender and flavorful. As I read, I realized that I had once actually seen such a processing plant that was made into a combined museum and hotel. (It’s not mentioned in the book). 

This relic stands nearly at the southern tip of South America in Puerto Bories, Puerto Natales, Chile. The Puerto Natales region once raised sheep and cattle to be shipped to England via the docks of this town. The now-hotel preserves probably the most complete example of an early 20th century meat shipping facility with its interesting technology. Note that via modern air travel, we took around 3 days to get to Puerto Natales from North America, as it’s not even close to the nearest airport, which is in Puento Arenas — a truly remote place. Here are some photos from our trip in 2017.

This is the pier where the refrigerator ships once were loaded with frozen meat headed to England. Two black-necked swans are in front of the pier. Our reason to travel so far was seeing both scenery and wildlife.

A view from our room in the hotel. We stayed here one night on our tour of Patagonia and then continued to Torres del Paine, a Chilean national park. Then we traveled by ship to see more wildlife and scenery.

Looking out of the hotel you see the contrast to what was once a busy dock area.
The slaughter house and packing plant operated from 1913 to 1993.

I find the look of the old equipment — which was all imported from England — fascinating and beautiful, with its bright colors and complex patterns. But what are we seeing? In one room there is a huge electric-generating plant that supplied power not only for the factory, but for the town. In the meat-cooling areas, electric compressors turned ammonia vapor to liquid. Held in sealed coils it circulated and turned back from liquid to vapor, which removed heat from the surroundings and thus acted as a refrigerant. The scale was large enough to process large numbers of slaughtered animals and have them ready to load on ships at the dock.

To get from the reception and dining areas of the hotel to the bedrooms, one walks past the equipment that once was used to slaughter, butcher, chill, and prepare meat to be shipped from the nearby dock.

Chilling meat is important for both preserving and making it palatable: “For most of refrigeration’s short history, humans have focused on its ability to stop spoilage by slowing down the reproduction of bad bacteria. But in the much longer annals of meat eating, cool air has been equally, if not more, appreciated for its ability to ripen red meat, turning dry, tough muscle fiber into a juicy, savory steak.” (p. 98)

The Hotel in the Factory

The breakfast buffet is in one of the many converted areas where meat packing once took place.

 

The Singular Hotel, Patagonia, Chile.

 Photos of the hotel © 2017 mae sander.

Blog post and book review © 2024 mae sander

The National Geographic Explorer

On the National Geographic Explorer we visited southern Patagonia from Puerto Natales, Chile, on the Señoret Channel,
then into the fjords near the Strait of Magellan, then onward to a landing at Cape Horn, and finally to Staten Island.
Our final port was Ushuaia, Argentina. While the ship was underway we enjoyed the views from the bow and the decks.

Here's a peek into the ship's kitchen, where numerous cooks prepared 3 meals a day and snacks.
In the depths of the ship are many support systems, such as two enormous frozen-storage rooms,
large stores of canned and processed food, a state-of-the-art garbage processing area, and more.

Breakfast and lunch were served from a buffet. At breakfast, a chef made omelets, poached eggs, or fried eggs to order. There were lots of other choices which varied day by day, including fruit, cereal, ship-made granola, yogurt, pancakes or French toast, bacon, sausages, and many more. At lunch you could choose from several hot entrees and a varying salad bar. Far too many to try them all! An alternate lunch service was upstairs in the observation deck where you could watch the scenery while eating -- we did that several times. Afternoon tea was served at 4 PM, but we were usually either too busy or too tired to go to the dining room for this extra meal.

The final afternoon tea was Swedish pancakes, dished up by the Purser
(who is Swedish) and the head chef. We did enjoy this one!

Dinner was served quite formally. Here are photos of three dinner courses served on various nights:

Duck patè with figs and balsamic glaze.

Roast beef, asparagus in prosciutto, and mashed potatoes. 

A typical dessert. I often opted for ice cream instead!

In the lounge, a briefing is held before dinner each evening. Besides a recap of the day's activity and a
description of possibilities for the following day, we usually heard a brief lecture on a topic such as native people or local vegetation. Before the briefing is a cocktail hour with snacks and hors-d'oeuvres.

The chart room is usually a quiet place with maps of where we had been. One night, however, as shown: we
attended a cocktail party here. From the chart room you can exit onto the bow for dramatic views of sea and shore. 

The bridge of the Explorer is generally open to passengers except in very tricky navigation situations.
At the helm in this photo is Oliver Kruse, the captain of the ship.

The water level door shown here is the exit where we
would board the Zodiac boats for better viewing of the
scenery or for shore landings. The tanks belong to professional
scuba divers who made underwater videos to inform us
of another element of our surroundings. No diving for passengers!

Another area for quietly watching the scenery is the library, which offers many
books about the areas where the Explorer goes. Outside the window is
Cape Horn. Owner of leg pointing to Cape Horn: unidentified.

I've already shown a number of photos of the ship: here's one more, showing a Zodiac
coming to shore to pick up hikers from a beautiful hike on Staten Island.
Staten Island is almost entirely off-limits to vistors, so there are no trails and we used
walking sticks to deal with the rough terrain. Only the Explorer is allowed to anchor there.

In the month of October, we were almost completely occupied with packing and preparing for the trip, traveling, and then returning home to resettle in. Usually, at the end of each month, I share a post about my kitchen with a number of other bloggers, but these photos of the Explorer represent my "kitchen" activities for the month.

Landing on Cape Horn: an Exceptional Day

Morning: we arrive at Cape Horn. The ocean is calm, where so many ships have been tossed and wrecked.
It appears that we will be able to make a landing and climb to the Cape Horn lighthouse.

Longitude and latitude of Cape Horn.

A Zodiac carries crew members to shore to make certain that landing will be ok.

It's a wet landing, with waves, but several crew members hold each boat and help us to the dock at the end of the stairs.

And we climb the stairway on the way to the lighthouse and the monuments to sailors who have died in these waters.

The monument: the image of an albatross. More stairs to climb!

An albatross.

Cape Horn lighthouse. Inside it's warmer. A Chilean naval officer and his family live here and care for the premises.

A shelf of books inside the lighthouse. Visitors are rare.

Another monument, with the albatross monument in the background.

Once we return -- having climbed down the stairs and having ridden back
on the Zodiac -- we watch the lighthouse disappear into the distance.

The southern-most point of Cape Horn is a little beyond the lighthouse.
The waters are sufficiently calm that the captain takes the boat for a tour here.

The nautical map of the area, which I photographed on the bridge.

Early People of Patagonia

View from inside the Milodon Cave, which we visited on the way to Torres del Paine National Park in Chile.
The discovery here of a well-preserved milodon (giant sloth) in 1895 received a great deal of attention in England and locally.

Inside the cave, we posed with a statue
of a milodon. The early humans aren't
much acknowledged in the cave.

Patagonia has been home to humans for around 11,000 years. An early location where evidence of their presence is found is the Milodon Cave Natural Monument, where we stopped during the land portion of our recent National Geographic tour. The Milodon, or Giant Sloth, whose bones are found throughout Patagonia, was hunted by early people, who probably contributed to the extinction of this one-ton beast. (The Milodon discovery plays a large role in Bruce Chatwin's book In Patagonia, among other things.)

The early Patagonians and Fuegians (natives of Tierra del Fuego, the southern islands that are also part of Patagonia) were descendants of the early humans who walked across the frozen Bering Straight and over many generations spread throughout the Americas. We didn't learn much about these humans between prehistory and the arrival of the first European voyagers, starting with Magellan, and a few others including Captain Cook. I'm not sure that much is known about them.

As Europeans began to arrive in greater numbers and colonize the area during the 19th century, they found several important tribal groups living in Tierra del Fuego. One voyage to that area that's still much remembered is that of the Beagle in 1830. Charles Darwin was onboard as a companion to the ship's captain, Robert FitzRoy. Darwin's journal of their experience in Tierra del Fuego contains quite a lot of observation of the local people.

Model of the ship Beagle of Darwin's visit. (Ushuaia Museum)

A major goal of Captain FitzRoy was to return three Fuegians to their homeland, along with a missionary to their fellow tribesman. These three had been taken a few years earlier (you might say they had been kidnapped) to be educated in English ways. Darwin's account of this part of the voyage describes how these individuals, once back to their tribe, reverted to the local ways and did not achieve the result of "civilizing" the rest of their people. The missionary stayed only a short time, as his goal appeared unachievable.

Two tribal groups in Tierra del Fuego were the Selk'nam and the Yàmana, whom I learned about in the Maritime Museum in Ushuaia, Argentina, and other sources. Some of the territory where they lived is now considered uninhabitable, and makes up the vast and fascinating natural spaces that we enjoyed seeing. I suppose this illustrates how tough these local tribes were, at least until they encountered Europeans!

1890's photos of Fuegians. (Ushuaia Museum)

The museum provided an interesting note about what they ate, a subject that always interests me:

"According to present studies, the Yàmana diet was based on sea lions. This was their main source of energy: both for proteins and calories. They also ate mushrooms, wild fruit such as Calafate, fish, whale meat -- when one ran aground on the beach -- and shellfish." (Museum documentation)

Native Fuegians. The early travelers were especially amazed because the Fuegians,
despite the very cold climate and harsh winds, didn't wear clothing except the occasional
guanaco skin. Fuegians made canoes and sometimes hunted marine mammals. (Ushuaia Museum)

Beached whales, like this one that we photographed, are still frequent.

Later, as more and more Europeans arrived, the fate of these tribes was extinction. The Yàmana population in 1884 was estimated at 1000 (half their original number); by 1925 only 45 of these people remained. The causes of their extinction included introduced diseases, especially smallpox, measles, pneumonia, and TB; reduction in available food supplies, and the takeover of their lands.

Even more upsetting is the fate of the Selk'nam, who were the victims of an intentional genocide. English sheep farmers, who had taken over the area, received a bounty for the slaughter of Selk'nam tribes people. Horrible to say, the bounty was paid when the killers turned in hands, ears, or skulls of their victims.

Tierra del Fuego: a hard place to live.

Sea lions and sea elephants

This alpha-male sea elephant and his harem were on a beach where we walked. The red color is probably
blood stains from his violent encounter with one of the females!

The area is called Jackson Bay, part of the Karukinka Reserve.

This smaller sea-lion showed up near the "lighthouse at the end of the world" at Staten Island east of Tierra del Fuego.
Next to him: a striated caracara, which is a bird of prey.

More of the same group of sea lions, which we saw from a Zodiac boat.

A sea lion pup which we saw on another cruise in a fjord.

A waterfall, also seen from the zodiac boat.

The wildlife that we saw during our 8 days on the National Geographic Explorer was very exciting to see. These marine mammals are ashore for the breeding season, and will soon leave the area to spend the southern summer fattening themselves up in the nutrient-rich waters not far from Antarctica.