His social rallying cry is: 'Power to the cook!'

Performance artist Robert Karimi likes to say the revolution starts in the kitchen.

The slogan is printed on his aprons - the words in bold black lettering against the backdrop of an arm raised in a power salute, clenched fist clutching wooden spoons.

His underlying message: Cooking is the key to social change.

Yes, we know buying locally grown foods, carrying them home in cloth bags, composting leftovers, and recycling waste are all steps away from factory farming, abusing the soil and polluting the air.

But creating the best balance of culinary, cultural, economic, and ecological concerns is not so simple, Karimi says.

How can we add more fish to our diets without knowing which are being overfished or imported on a carbon-consuming journey?

Can we add more fruits and vegetables to our plates without asking if the growers were somehow cheated or sickened? Do we really want to fund government subsidies for corn or cattle growers?

If food defines us, it can also box us in, says Karimi, 37. To get his point across, the Minneapolis-based performer stirs those complex concerns through the sieve of satire.

"It's more digestible that way," he says, smirking.

Karimi was in town last week for a series of comedic consciousness-raising performances at the Asian Arts Initiative at 12th and Vine Streets.

Acting as Mero Cocinero, a politically inflamed food geek hosting a faux cooking show with a Filipino sidekick named Comrade Castro (writer/actor John Castro), Karimi inspires audiences to both recall and reconsider their favorite foods.

When Comrade Castro craves the fried Spam of his childhood, for example, Mero rants about the evils of food processing and the effect of colonialism on his cultural psyche.

"We're at war against indigestion," Karimi says. "And our best weapon is food consciousness."

Everyone in the audience gets to taste the dips and dishes Karimi and Castro prepare on stage. Their Lumpia Campesina (see recipe) is a vegetarian Filipino-style version of the traditional egg roll, which was brought to the Philippines by the Chinese.

Karimi says he makes it in solidarity with agricultural workers everywhere, adding Campesina to the name of the dish in recognition of Via Campesina, a movement of rural farmers and indigenous communities who seek food sovereignty - the right to produce food on their own land.

While he was in town last week, Karimi went to the Whole Foods store on South Street to distribute free samples of his homemade GLBT tortas. (Gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender? No, guacamole, lettuce, beans and tomato - cheese optional.)

He also led an intensive hands-on workshop, Cooking Con Community, in which participants explored their feelings about food through the prism of culture.

Karimi comes by his ethnic cred by way of his mother's Guatemalan heritage, which, mixed with his father's Iranian background, resulted in Karimi's love of treats such as Hummus Bi Tahini Con Chile de Arbol (a chickpea dip, intensified with cumin and chile).

The workshop inspired Loc Nguyen, a junior at Central High School, to recall his Vietnamese aunt's Allegory of the Shrimp Fried Rice.

In his aunt's story, Nguyen says, each ingredient is a cherished representation of the person who had a hand in planting or picking. The finished dish symbolizes the communal nature of our existence and eating as an exercise in gratitude.

"If you value living in a culturally diverse society," Karimi says, "you are more likely to value diversity of the palate as well."

Makes 15 to 20 pieces

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Leaves of romaine lettuce, for serving

1 red cabbage

1 napa cabbage

1 package bean sprouts

2 to 3 carrots

1 bell pepper

4 cloves of garlic

1 white onion

1 teaspoon soy sauce

1 to 2 teaspoons vegetable stock

1 cup safflower or canola oil

1 pkg. (about 30) square lumpia wrappers, available in Asian grocery stores (won-ton wrappers may be substituted)

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1. Wash lettuce leaves and set aside to dry.

2. Julienne all the vegetables, except the garlic and onion.

3. Slice the onion thinly and mince the garlic. Heat oil in a frying pan and add onion and garlic. When the aroma is pungent, add the remaining vegetables.

4. Add soy sauce and then vegetable stock. The vegetables should be just partly cooked because the lumpia will be fried later.

5. Open the package of lumpia wrappers and separate the pieces. Place one on a clean cutting board at an angle, in a diamond shape. Take a handful of lumpia mix and place toward the bottom of the diamond, then roll up two or three times. Bring in the left side of the wrapper, then the right and roll again. Place a few drops of water on the edge of the wrapper and seal shut.

6. Repeat for as many lumpia as you want to make. Extras can be frozen before frying. Or experiment with double-wrapping the lumpia, which makes for a crunchier taste. Just wrap the already wrapped lumpia roll the same way as above.

7. To fry, place oil in a pan on medium heat. Brown a few pieces at a time, on all sides, to desired darkness.

8. Drain and serve on leaves of romaine lettuce instead of plates, leaving zero waste.

Per serving (based on 20):

155 calories, 12 grams protein, 12 grams carbohydrates, 4 grams sugar, 11 grams fat, 1 milligram cholesterol, 91 milligrams sodium, 2 grams dietary fiber

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Makes 2 to 4 servingsEndTextStartText

This simple dip is great as an after-school snack. Serve with slices of apple, carrot, red bell pepper, celery, or any other crunchy fruits and vegetables that are on hand.

Think of a 3-2-1 formula for the quantity of ingredients when deciding how much to make, with 3 being almond butter, 2 cacao powder, and 1 agave nectar.

For example:

3 tablespoons almond butter

2 tablespoons cacao powder (ground cacao nibs; not cocoa)

1 tablespoon agave nectar

Mix in a medium bowl; should satisfy 2 to 4.