I think a great way to understand this is by focusing on the hugely-popular phrase “whole grain.” Over the past couple years; we have all been bombarded with whole grains. It’s labeled on our cereal boxes, loaves of bread and bags of rice. We see and hear about it on TV, and it’s even a fundamental building block of Michelle Obama’s healthy eating campaign. But what does brown rice or whole grain mean? In order to explain whole grains, we need not go further than the name. I actually love the marketing of whole grains because it is so simple and self-explanatory. Whole grain is exactly what it sounds like- it literally means the entire (whole) grain. The only thing that gets milled away is the inedible outer husk, leaving the entire rice kernel intact, including the germ, which is the corner of the rice kernel where life begins for a rice plant (another topic for another day) the brown colored outer bran layer (hence the name brown rice).
So now that we know what brown rice is, why is it healthier for you then white rice? It’s very simple really. This outer bran layer is filled with fiber, vitamins, protein and amino acids. The outer bran layer also contains a very healthy oil (rice bran oil), which is shown to help lower LDL Cholesterol (the “bad” cholesterol). This oily bran layer also explains why brown rice takes longer to cook than white rice. It simply takes longer for the water to pass through the oily barrier and absorb into the rice kernel.
I believe that as people start to really understand these health benefits, the popularity of brown rice will continue to increase. I also noticed that many people who try brown rice are pleasantly surprised to find that they also really like the taste and texture. If you’re not yet on the whole grain brown rice bandwagon, maybe it’s time to give it a shot.
Brendan O’Donnell is Vice President, Sales at The Sun Valley Rice Company, LLC, which mills, packages and markets premium California rice both domestically and around the world. He is the Fifth generation of his family to be involved in California agriculture and has been marketing and promoting California rice since 2007. He is a graduate of UC Davis with a B.S. in Agricultural Systems and Environment and Communications. Brendan is also an active member of the Rice Leadership Development Program. When he’s not selling rice, Brendan enjoys golfing, skiing and spending time with his family. He and his wife, Erin have Two children, Bridget and Liam.
There was a painting that hung on a wall at my aunt’s house that depicted two birds, a yellowish brown bird and a blue colored bird. I was fascinated by it. I did not know what species they were but it had made enough of an impression on me that I copied it with my crayons. It was my very first “bird art”. I was four at that time. Thirty-five years later, my fascination for birds is stronger than ever and it has flourished into a career in avian fine art. It has also brought me to a realization that my career relies heavily on the conservation of wildlands and farmlands, two places that birds are most plentiful.
Migrating birds seek food and protection in areas with water. The smooth movements of a Tundra Swan as it glides along on rice fields or the preening of a Sandhill Crane (Figure 1) on a flooded field, inspire me to depict these birds in simple watercolor paintings. Where there is open land, it also brings other species such as Red-tailed Hawks (Figure 2) that scan the horizon for its next meal or tidings of Yellow-billed Magpies (Figure 3) that add color to tilled cornfields. In essence, these birds would not be here without the open fields.
As custodians of the land, we have the power to protect these habitats not just for the benefit of birds but also for future generations to enjoy. As I watch my youngest daughter copy my painting of a bird hanging on the wall, I pray that we will leave land that is not made of concrete, but of soil and water which are the first ingredients of life.
As soon as my son, Jeff, poured the cloudy Sake into Ashley's glass, I had a sudden flashback of my childhood growing up in Alaska.
On the way there, we would take the ferry across the Tanana River into the fishing village of Nenana and head up the Park Highway, following the Nenana River. In those days you could drive into McKinley Park and 18 (dusty and winding) miles up the mountainside, but years later the tremendous growth in automobile traffic in the park resulted in a shuttle bus system and restrictions on private vehicles.
