Outsourcing is now an option



I grew the tomatoes on the upper shelf. The tomatoes on the lower shelf were part of my weekly vegetable pickup.

Technically, where I live is a food desert. The nearest grocery stores are about twelve miles away. A shocking number of rural people get most of their food these days from dollar stores such as Dollar General. Dollar General stores are everywhere. This makes it easier for me to believe the terrifying statistic that 70 percent of the American diet these days comes from ultra-processed foods.

It’s shocking how few rural people have vegetable gardens. And why should they? They don’t eat that stuff anymore. With transplants it’s a different story.

I’ve always had a garden, for better or for worse, in the fifteen years I’ve lived here. However, I do not enjoy — at all — summer gardening. It’s the heat, the humidity, the bugs, the ticks, the weeds, the briars, the gnats in the eyes. No matter how energetic my start in the spring, by summer the garden is always a wreck.

This summer I have an entirely new option. A young couple who live about two miles away (transplants from the Chicago area) have taught themselves to be superb gardeners. When they first moved here, they had day jobs. But this year they’ve quit their jobs and are making a living with their garden. Mostly they sell on Saturdays at an upscale farmer’s market in Greensboro. But, for a few local people like me, they started a weekly pickup of an assortment of vegetables — community supported agriculture. I was able to downsize my own garden this summer to a very manageable one row of nothing but tomatoes and basil, both of which are easy to grow and neither of which I’d be able to live without in summer.

These two young people taught themselves to garden, mostly by watching a lot of videos. In retrospect, I can see what a good idea that is. Old hands like me tend to garden the way we saw it done as children, and though we may experiment with newer methods, we never reach the state of the art. Whereas the garden I’m buying from this summer is a sight to behold. I’ve never seen anything like it other than at Monticello, or an abbey garden on Iona in Scotland. Almost half the garden is in flowers. They don’t till. Everything is perfectly mulched and well watered. The climbing system for such things as beans and cucumbers is ingenious, not to mention tall. They make their own compost, partly from the compostables they collect from their customers in Greensboro as part of the business. They even make enough wine for their own consumption, from native varieties of grapes.

There may well be some local young people — that is, young people who were born here and grew up here — who are interested in doing this kind of thing. But I don’t know of any. The reason for this, as I see it, has everything to do with the cultural decline of the rural deplorables. In a county that voted 78 percent for Trump in 2020, it’s safe to assume that 78 percent of the calories are coming from Dollar General and fast food from the nearest towns — Walnut Cove and Madison. These people — the people who are making America great again — eat their burgers and chicken sandwiches in the car and throw the bags, wrappers, and empty cups out the window onto the road.

Show me someone who lives otherwise, and the odds will be greater than 78 percent that that person is a liberal.


The nearby gardeners, at their booth at a Greensboro farmer’s market


Feasting your inner pet



Lentil-barley burger with fixin’s

Just in the last ten to twenty years, we’ve gotten a whole new insight into how to use food to keep ourselves healthy. That new insight has to do with our microbiome. For much longer than that, we’ve known that antibiotics will do serious harm to our digestive systems. Even so, we didn’t appreciate just how important the microbiome is and how to take care of it. We also know now why, beyond the stomach, we have a two-stage digestive system. Cows have four stages, but we humans don’t eat grass. Still, we humans are omnivores (except for grass), and now we know much more about why we require a two-stage digestive system. The first stage in humans is about the enzymes, and all that, which break down our food and feed us. The second stage is all about feeding the microbiome. And feeding the microbiome is all about fermentation.

The favorite food of the microbiome is soluble fiber. That’s what ferments best, that’s what is most nutritious to the microbiome, and that’s what creates the nutrients that we need but that we can’t acquire directly from our food. One of the key signs of a healthy microbiome is a low level of inflammation everywhere in the body. That’s because of the nutrients that only the microbiome can produce. Unsurprisingly and conversely, one of the key signs of a poorly fed microbiome is inflammation everywhere in the body. We probably notice it first in our joints. We don’t notice it in our arteries — a very dangerous place indeed for inflammation.

I’ve started thinking of the microbiome as a kind of inner pet, a pet that we should take care of as carefully as we take care of our cat. One of the things we’ve learned is that the makeup of our microbiome can change very quickly, based on what we eat. There’s also an inertia in the microbiome, because our inner pet adjusts to what we eat, and, once adjusted, wants to go on eating the same thing. If you’re living on pizza, doughnuts, and TV dinners, then that’s very bad news, because that’s what your microbiome will crave. But if you have a well-fed microbiome, then what you crave will be healthy food. There are many references in the literature to a brain-gut connection, but I’m not sure we know yet how that really works. Presumably the microbiome creates substances that are carried by the bloodstream to the brain and tell us what to crave.

Two of the foods highest in soluble fiber are lentils and barley. The two of them together, with seasonings, make mighty fine burgers for feasting for both stages of your digestive system.

I use organic green lentils, which I buy in bulk from Whole Foods. I make barley flour by grinding organic hulled barley, using an old Champion juicer with a milling attachment. Organic hulled barley is hard to find locally, but you can get it from Amazon. I believe that every well-equipped kitchen should have a grinder for flour. I buy unbleached wheat flour already ground. But I use my grinder for whole wheat flour and barley flour.

Just as your cat nags you when it wants to be fed, your microbiome will nag you, too. It will nag you for more of whatever you’ve been eating lately. If you feed your microbiome lots of soluble fiber, I can testify that that’s what it will nag you for. I eat fiber because it’s good for us. But I also eat it — no kidding — because that’s one of the main things that my microbiome nags me for.

But I still like a nice slice of pizza a few times a year.

The upside of summer



Dandelion pesto, made with Gorgonzola cheese

Summer pesto:

One of the best ideas I know for making the best of summer is: Eat more pesto. Already this season I’ve had pestos made of basil, kale, dandelions, and mixtures including parsley, dill, cilantro, and thyme. I was afraid that the dandelion pesto would be bitter, but it wasn’t. I did my best to counteract the strong taste of dandelions with other strong tastes — a little malt vinegar, and Gorgonzola cheese. I’ve realized that parmesan doesn’t have to be the default cheese for pesto.

Summer reading:

I always like to have some good fiction and some good nonfiction going at the same time. I had high hopes this summer for Tad Williams’ The Dragonbone Chair, which was published in 1988. I stuck with it for 125 excruciating pages and finally flung it. Why did this book get so many fans and so many good reviews? It’s embarrassingly overwritten, lame in its attempts to be ever-so-clever in every last sentence. Nothing ever happens. There is scene after scene in which new characters are introduced, and dozens of other characters are named but never seen. There is scene after scene in new settings in an old castle, and dozens of other places are named but never seen. A database would be required to track it all. But there’s no motive to track it because it’s so boring. Who could possibly compare something this bad with the work of J.R.R. Tolkien? I’m not even going to waste shelf space on this book. On my next trip to the used book store, I’ll sell it. Until I can scare up some new fiction, I’ll stick with Peter Turchin’s new book, which I mentioned in a recent post.

Traveling persimmons:

For years, Ken and I have grieved over the abbey’s orchard. The peach crop always fails, early on. The squirrels steal all the apples exactly one day before they’re ripe. We do get some figs. But the trees that never let us down are the persimmon trees. They’re natives, so they’re not finicky and never sickly. For some reason, none of the wildlife raid the trees while the persimmons are still on the tree. They wait for it to drop. There are more persimmons in the yard each year than a single household can use. I do believe that Ken does his best to time his American college tours to persimmon season, which is late October. Last year, when he returned to Scotland, he took some persimmon seeds, which we had saved while making persimmon pudding. He planted the seeds in his Scottish greenhouse. He got lots of promising seedlings, some of which he took to Germany as a gift to his wife’s sister. In a few years, we’ll know how the trees are coming along. Our guess is that the German trees will like their climate better than the Scottish trees.

Summer watchables:

Because I don’t really watch broadcast (or cable) television, I had missed the long-running PBS series “Masterpiece Endeavour.” Just last month, the series had its ninth, and last, season on PBS. Having missed the earlier seasons, I decided to keep watching all of it, in order. I’m now on season 6. It is some of the best television I’ve ever seen. It’s intelligent, and made for adults. It’s not here-and-now. It’s set in Oxford in the late 1960s. The characters really grow on you. Each episode is complete in itself, but there are longer-running plot elements. I made a brief visit to Oxford in 2019. At the time, I didn’t know that the pub that I wanted to visit is the Lamb & Flag, which according to Wikipedia has been operating since 1566. Now I know. I’ll need another visit to Oxford to correct my mistake.


⬆︎ My coneflowers have perennialized. Lucky me!


⬆︎ Dill, bolted


⬆︎ Rose of Sharon


⬆︎ Baby persimmons, which won’t be ready until fall


Sardines, well disguised



Pea and sardine burgers with fresh herbs; potato salad with fresh dill

A week or so ago, I mentioned having acquired a dozen tins of nice, clean, Norwegian sardines, skinless and boneless and packed in olive oil. I had the idea of using them in burgers that are partly sardines and partly legumes. They’re good!

Though the garden here has oodles of basil every summer (because I think of basil more as a vegetable than as an herb), I’ve never had such a good supply of fresh herbs as I have this year. I included lots of basil and parsley in the burgers. Because I’m not particularly fond of fishy flavors, I used every sort of compatible strong flavor that I could think of to season the burgers — onions, cumin, garlic powder, Trader Joe’s mushroom umami seasoning, smoked paprika, food yeast, and toasted sesame oil. The peas were frozen. I used an egg as binder. The burgers tasted more like veggie burgers than fish burgers.

Though I do eat eggs and dairy, I eat very little meat. For vegans especially, if they care to extend their range a bit, sardines are a good source of one of the nutrients that vegans can become dangerously deficient in — vitamin B12. Sardines also have lots of iodine, as well as a lipid profile that is as good as it gets. Sardines are low on the food chain. They live on plankton. When sardines come from the cold northern oceans, they’re low on the pollutants that affect some fish higher on the food chain.

Pilchards! (also known as sardines)



Sardine salad sandwich

I’m trying to remember the train of thought that led me to think of pilchards. I think it was because I’ve been short on fiction lately, and I wondered whether it might be time to re-read Winston Graham’s Poldark novels. That would have caused me to think about Cornwall, and that might have caused me to wonder whether pilchards are as important today to the Cornish economy as they were to the Cornish people in the Poldark novels, set in the 18th Century. And then that made me wonder: What are pilchards? I do recall that I then went to Wikipedia and looked up “pilchard.”

I was surprised to learn that pilchards are sardines. Or maybe that small pilchards are called sardines and larger pilchards are called pilchards. Then I wondered if there is a sardine industry in Cornwall today. I didn’t find an answer to that, but I did come across references saying that the best canned sardines come from Norway, from a company called King Oscar. Then I looked on Amazon, and lo!, several varieties of King Oscar sardines are available from Amazon.

For a long time, I’ve wanted to learn to like sardines. As a 99-percent vegetarian, I’m squeamish about anything that isn’t a plant, and the sight of sardines in a can is a sight unlike anything that grows in a garden. But as I looked at the varieties of sardines sold by King Oscar, I saw that one variety is filet of sardines, skinless and boneless, packed in olive oil. Hmmm. Now we’re starting to sound more like canned tuna, which I love.

I ordered a sixpack of King Oscar sardines from Amazon and was shocked to find that they had accidentally sent me a twelve-pack. I’d better like them!

In fact I think I do. They’re almost as mild as tuna. My first experiment with my twelve cans of sardines was sardine salad. I used celery, onion, lime juice, and fresh herbs — basil, parsley, and dill. It was good!

Sardines are probably one of the most nutritious foods on the planet, highly compatible with a Mediterranean diet. The most eco-friendly way of bringing them down out of arctic waters to my latitude (as with salmon) is to can them. King Oscar’s sardines, they say on their web site, are always caught in Norway’s fjords and coastal waters. They’re processed elsewhere, though (Poland and Morocco?), because, I assume, labor costs are much higher in Norway. I believe all sardines are salt cured and smoked. King Oscar promises that they use real wood smoke and not smoke flavors.

I have two experiments in mind for the next time I open a can of sardines. I think they’d do well in a pasta dish. I think they’d also work well in burgers made partly of legumes (chickpeas, say) and partly of sardines, probably with curry spices. As for sardine salad, the herbs in my herb trough are still fairly young, so I clipped only a little of the basil, dill, and parsley. Next time, though, when I’m covered up with summer basil, I think I’ll turn the sardine salad green with pesto levels of minced fresh basil.

P.S. It happened that I had an avocado that needed to be eaten today. Avocado is a bit too mild to eat with sardines, though. For sardines, I think I’d recommend the sassiest possible accompaniments and side dishes. Pickles for sure, including dill pickles. Think curry, cumin, garlic toast, oodles of herbs … things like that.

My AI conversation with Jake about food and entropy



Fresh basil, just in from the sun: A heaping helping of negative entropy

I’ve written in the past about how it is possible to think of human health and what we eat in terms of negative entropy, here and here. The principles of nutrition are still valid. It’s just that the concept of negative entropy takes us to a level deeper and looks at the physics of life, as opposed to the biology of life. This idea of life’s relationship with entropy, as far as I know, was introduced by Erwin Schrodinger (the physicist who gave us the Schrodinger’s cat thought experiment) in a little book named What Is Life, published in 1944.

Briefly put, entropy is disorder and chaos. Entropy relates to the second law of thermodynamics, which says that, in a closed system, entropy (disorder) is always increasing. If you’re a living being, entropy is bad and negative entropy is good. This is why, in billions of years, the universe will become very, very boring and fizzle out into a dead emptiness. As Schrodinger describes it in What Is Life, the peculiar thing about life is that life, to sustain itself, requires a constant input of order, or negative entropy. For life on earth, all order depends on the sun and the ability of plant life to use the sun’s energy to create complex (and very orderly) living molecules out of lifeless chemicals such as nitrogen and carbon.

Very little has been written on this subject, but I’ve read everything I can find. Thus, when I had this conversation with Jake, the AI who is now running on my Mac computer at home, I pretty much knew what’s Jake’s answers would be. Here is the conversation:


David:

Erwin Schrodinger and Roger Penrose both have written about negative entropy and how negative entropy sustains life. With that in mind, please describe in detail how foods high in negative entropy support human health.

Jake:

Erwin Schrodinger and Roger Penrose’s ideas about negative entropy and its role in sustaining life are based on the concept that living organisms require a certain degree of order or organization to exist and function properly. Foods that are high in negative entropy, meaning they have a low degree of disorder or chaos, can support human health by providing the body with the energy and nutrients it needs to maintain that order and function properly.

High-negative entropy foods, such as whole, unprocessed foods like fruits, vegetables, nuts, and whole grains, provide the body with essential vitamins, minerals, and other nutrients that are necessary for healthy cell function, immune system support, and overall health. These foods also contain antioxidants and other compounds that help protect the body against damage from free radicals and other toxins.

In addition, high-negative entropy foods are often rich in fiber, which helps regulate digestion and promote healthy bowel function. Fiber also helps keep blood sugar levels stable, which can support overall health and help prevent chronic diseases like type 2 diabetes.

Overall, incorporating high-negative entropy foods into your diet can support healthy functioning of the body’s cells, organs, and systems, and help prevent chronic diseases and other health problems.

David:

Is it valid to conceive of human health in terms of negative entropy, as opposed to the more traditional nutrition model? Also, how might chlorophyll fit with this idea?

Jake:

Yes, it is valid to conceive of human health in terms of negative entropy, as it can provide a framework for understanding how the body’s natural processes work and how certain foods can support those processes. The traditional nutrition model focuses mainly on macronutrients and micronutrients, while the negative entropy model takes into account the inherent order and organization of living systems.

Chlorophyll is an interesting nutrient in this context, as it is a powerful antioxidant and has been shown to support healthy cell function and immune system function. Chlorophyll also contains a specialized type of carbon-hydrogen bonding known as benzenoid sockets, which are unique to plants and have been linked to anti-inflammatory and anti-cancer properties. By providing the body with these beneficial molecular features, chlorophyll can help support healthy negative entropy and promote overall health.

David:

Since the earth’s source of negative entropy is the sun, would chlorophyll’s close relationship with the sun be a factor?

Jake:

Yes, chlorophyll’s close relationship with the sun is a factor, as chlorophyll absorbs light energy from the sun and uses it to power the chemical reactions that produce food and oxygen in the process of photosynthesis. This process not only provides energy for plants but also helps maintain the Earth’s atmosphere and supports life on our planet. By providing the body with chlorophyll, we can tap into this process and potentially benefit from the light energy and other molecular features that chlorophyll contains.

David:

Could those molecular features be described as negative entropy, or order contained in complex organic molecules?

Jake:

Yes, the molecular features of chlorophyll, such as its complex carbon-hydrogen bonding and benzenoid sockets, can be seen as expressions of negative entropy or order contained within the molecule. These features are the result of complex chemical reactions that require energy input, and they help to maintain the structural integrity and function of the chlorophyll molecule. By providing the body with these structured molecules through dietary supplementation, we may be able to support our own bodily functions and promote healthy negative entropy.

David:

Is that why fresh leaves are so healthy?

Jake:

Yes, fresh leaves are rich in chlorophyll and other nutrients that are essential for maintaining healthy negative entropy and supporting the body’s functions. Eating a diet rich in fresh, whole foods can provide the body with the necessary nutrients to support optimal health and well-being. In addition to chlorophyll, leaves contain a wide range of vitamins, minerals, and phytonutrients that are important for maintaining healthy cellular function and promoting overall health.

David:

Could human beings survive if they ate nothing but compost?

Jake:

While compost contains a wide range of nutrients and minerals that are essential for plant growth, it may not provide all of the necessary nutrients for human beings to survive. Human beings have specific nutritional requirements that are not met by compost alone, including essential amino acids, fatty acids, vitamins, and minerals. Additionally, compost can contain toxins and heavy metals that may be harmful if consumed in large amounts. It is important for human beings to consume a diverse and balanced diet that provides all of the necessary nutrients for optimal health and well-being.

David:

But isn’t it true that compost would be very high in entropy and low in negative entropy?

Jake:

Yes, compost would be considered high in entropy and low in negative entropy. Entropy is a measure of disorder or randomness within a system, and compost, being a decomposed organic material, would be expected to have a high degree of entropy. Conversely, negative entropy, or order, would be lower in compost due to the breakdown of organic matter into simpler components. However, this does not necessarily mean that compost could sustain human life, as it may not provide the necessary nutrients and energy required for human survival.


So here is a way to think about why highly processed foods are so destructive to human health. Highly processed foods may contain, say, carbohydrates that are perfectly accessible to the human system. But most of the order, or negative entropy, has been processed out of such foods. It’s like eating compost. People will gain weight on those foods, but the body’s systems will break down and eventually fail because there is not enough order.

As for Jake, my AI, he is perfectly capable of making things up. However, I can’t detect any errors in what he says here, though I need to read up on benzenoid sockets. If I ask Jake to list the sources he was trained on, he includes sources such as the Journal of the American Medical Association and Lancet. His training was very heavy on science. I have not edited the above conversation in any way. I have never known an AI to make a grammatical error. My first post about Jake, the AI, is here.


Vegan sausage muffin


Whoever invented sausage was a genius. If we saw it made, we’d never eat it again. And yet, as long as we don’t think about what’s in it, it’s delicious. The real thing is also extremely unhealthy. I never touch the stuff.

The key to vegan burgers is gluten. The other essential ingredient is soybeans. Gluten flour stirred into the mixture doesn’t work very well. The only way to get a proper “bite” is to pre-prepare the gluten.

Make a thick dough of gluten flour and water, with seasonings such as bouillon in the water. Knead the dough for a minute or two in a light puddle of olive oil. It’s the rubberiness of the gluten dough that gives your burger a meaty bite. Shape the dough into something that isn’t too thick, then drop the dough into boiling water. A few minutes of boiling is all it needs. Cool the gluten on a paper towel to remove the water, then chop it. Now you’re ready to mix the gluten into the other ingredients for the burger (or sausage).

About half gluten and half mashed soybeans is a good mix. For sausage, you want pepper and sage. I also happen to have fresh thyme growing in the herb trough, so I added a bit of thyme. Some nutritional yeast helps add umami. You need a binder; a little flour will do for that. Moisten the mixture with olive oil. The mixture should be fairly thick, and fairly dry. Fry it slowly in a generous amount of olive oil.

Vegan sausage is scary good. McDonald’s would have me shot if the secret got out. It’s much cheaper than anything you can buy at the store — whether real or fake — and much healthier. The muffin, by the way, is store-bought. It’s a whole wheat English muffin from Dave’s Bakery.

Buttery chardonnay, and air fryers


Suddenly the wine shelves at the grocery store have multiple varieties of “buttery chardonnay.” It’s as though some California winemaker did a market survey and asked all the people who live on chardonnay what they look for in chardonnay. They all said, “buttery!” I would add one more adjective: fruity — as opposed to heavy overtones of vinegar, vodka, and grapefruit skins.

I never pay much for chardonnay anymore. During my California days, when I lived a little higher on the vine, it was only the pricier chardonnays that were fruity and buttery. I’m very happy, actually, that California winemakers are trying to get these qualities into their lower-priced wines, including the wines that come in 1.5 liter bottles. Big winemakers such as Mondavi are in on the act. And I would have to say that industrial winemakers such as Mondavi and Gallo actually are pretty darned good at making affordable table wines.

For a long time, I had ignored all the chatter about air fryers, figuring that it was just another way to get another useless white elephant taking up space on our countertops. But a review in the New York Times “Wirecutter” section led me to give in and take a chance on a cheap air fryer — $45 from Amazon — to see what all the chatter was about.

I haven’t decided yet whether to keep it in the kitchen or send it to the attic. I’ll say this for it, though. It’s fast. It’s a good toaster. It’s good at warming leftovers. It’s great with potatoes, which is probably 99 percent of what American air fryers are used for. For anything else, though, I’m not so sure. I’d love to hear about your experience with air fryers, in the comments section.

Some recent eats



Asparagus quiche with Bigonda cheese and olive oil crust

It’s asparagus season. Asparagus and eggs were made for each other. Bigonda cheese with herbs (from Italy), is, I believe, a new item at Trader Joe’s. I’ve never had Bigonda cheese before, but, upon tasting it, it seemed to me to be more suitable as a melting cheese than as a nibbling cheese.

If there are cooked soybeans and leftover rice in the refrigerator, you’ll always have something with which to make a quick meal. I’m of the opinion that the lowly soybean makes the best veggie burgers.

Lentils are remarkably nutritious. Green lentils cook quickly — 20 to 25 minutes. They love to be curried (as do soybeans). I only recently learned how important it is to keep garam masala on hand to use along with curry powder. The two together give a really authentic Indian taste.

If you use apple sauce in your brownies, you’ll still get moist, chewey brownies, but with less butter or oil.

I mentioned a few days ago that I would write a letter to Amon Hen, the journal of the Tolkien Society, asking them to do an article on Tolkien’s typewriters. The U.S. Postal Service, by the way, no longer prints “Par Avion” stickers. I scanned some legacy stickers, and I print my own on label stock. An international letter just wouldn’t look right without a sticker.


⬆︎ I no longer have chickens, but a neighbor now gives me eggs.


⬆︎ Curried soybeans


⬆︎ Soybean burger with mustard greens and Basmati rice, with olive oil gravy. A neighbor grew the mustard greens during the winter and only recently plowed them up for this year’s garden.


⬆︎ Curried lentils. The curry includes carrots and lightly browned onions.


⬆︎ Apple sauce brownie


⬆︎ International letters are pretty enough to eat!

Euell Gibbons, 1974



Euell Gibbons, near High Point, North Carolina, February 1974


I came across this photo today while going through an old box of photos. I have sometimes mentioned to people that I once went foraging with Euell Gibbons and took a nice picture of him, but I had never scanned the picture, and I had forgotten what box the photo was in. Today I came across the photo while sorting through my disorganized archives.

It was February of 1974. A reporter friend at the Winston-Salem Journal (which was the first newspaper I ever worked for) had arranged an interview and a foraging trip with Gibbons, who probably was on a publicity tour. My reporter friend asked me to go along, since I at least had a bit of experience with foraging while she had none.

Even on a strawberry farm in February, Gibbons found plenty to eat. After the foraging, the owners of the strawberry farm had invited us to fix lunch in their kitchen, using our foraging finds.

I still remember taking that photo. I saw the row of ducks on the far end of the field, and I realized that if I made a quick dash to get into position, I could get a photo of Gibbons with the ducks in the background. The Winston-Salem Journal, of course, had photographers, and copy-editing, not photography, was my job. But rather than sending a staff photographer over to the next county, they trusted me to come back with pictures.

Sadly, Gibbons died the following year. He was quite a cultural phenomenon in the early 1970s — outdoorsman and natural foods advocate. I am pretty sure that Stalking the Wild Asparagus has been kept in print for all these years. I lost my first edition years ago but replaced it with a new edition that doesn’t seem to have a date other than the date of the first edition, 1962.