The Omnivore’s Dilemma, by Michael Pollan,

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, by Barbara Kingsolver, and

The Revolution Will Not Be Microwaved, by Sandor Katz

Inspired by such early food movement luminaries as Frances Moore Lappe with her 1970s Diet For a Small Planet, which made vegetarianism a nationwide fad for nearly 30 years, contemporary writers are forging ahead with a new and urgent mandate to avoid ecological and social disaster. Americans are finally learning that those essential nutritious substances that come in packages from well-lit warehouses we call “grocery stores” actually begin with farmers working along with the earth. According to each of these books, the future of our life on this planet will require us to consider this important link to the source of our basic sustenance.

For Michael Pollan, humans are naturally omnivorous, as determined by our history of food choices. However, amidst the current environmental degradation, a point made ironically in a book supposedly about the vexation of omnivores, the dilemma we face most is not so much what we consume, or whether or not to eat animal products, but where our food comes from. Under what conditions was it produced? And, perhaps most importantly, how much energy was required to bring it to our table?

With the onslaught of a “global” economy, our tastes have spread far and wide, and our desire for “fresh” produce out of season, tomatoes in the dead of winter, for example, has brought us to ridiculous feats involving the burning of copious amounts of fossil fuels, the use of toxic fertilizers, hormones, antibiotics, pesticides and herbicides. Pollen brings to light these excesses our cultures reaches in order to feed our voracious appetites for what we want when we want it at a cheap price; and he does so without a hint of judgment, but, rather leads by example, trying something new, even for himself – a simpler approach to feeding ourselves. In the end, he introduces us to what he considers the “perfect meal,” which he praises for its “almost perfect transparency,” the “brevity and simplicity of the food chain that linked it to the wider world. Scarcely an ingredient in it had ever worn a label or bar code or price tag, and yet I knew almost everything there was to know about its provenance and its price.”

Barbara Kingsolver delivers a parallel message but from the skill of a novelist with a knack for narrative. She takes Pollan’s idea that the “perfect meal” is not by any means the one we make by ourselves for ourselves. To the contrary, Kingsolver inquires if we are to sacrifice some of our wants and desires for the good of the rest of society, then why not do it together? It’s better to approach such ascetic endeavors in the company of family and friends than to make a go of it alone. So, she embarks on an ever-evolving journey with her family, two of whom – her older daughter and husband – contribute substantially to the body of the book, adding startling tidbits of information, as well as heartwarming tales of living locally, which means excluding many of the things we have come to take for granted – bananas from Ecuador, olive oil from Italy, tomatoes from California. Interspersed throughout are scrumptious-sounding recipes to help you on your own journey toward food awareness. Filling the void of luxury food items, the partaking of food in Kingsolver’s home becomes an excuse for celebration and a time to show appreciation for the abundance our planet provides.

Leading us on a great adventure of food awareness, Sandor Katz takes us a step beyond Kingsolver’s warm heart and toward the rage against the machine, with the notion that a little of both will be necessary if we are to successfully revolutionize our approach to feeding ourselves. In his introduction, Katz sums up the underlying themes of all three of these important books. “Far from comprehensive,” he writes,

“this book aims to inspire you to become a food activist yourself, and in that process to become more connected to the sources of your food and water. The food system on whose fringes we are all doing our work may seem monolithic and indomitable, but we are nourishing ourselves and one another by our actions, and creating exciting alternatives.”

Focusing on food movements – slow food, raw food, and veganism are some of the many categories – Katz inspires the reader to take action and at the same time reminds us of the joy that comes with a life of integrity. Like Kingsolver, he also includes recipes. However, recipes, he concludes,

“offer step-by-step instruction, and some people want that very badly. Beyond food, people love recipes for health, wealth, spiritual well-being, sexual prowess, and a better world. I’m afraid that in the end I have no easy-to-follow recipe to offer my readers for how we can go about taking back community control of our food and water and, more broadly, our power and our dignity.”

It could be argued that the foundation of a complete society evolves out of the roots of its food system. While these authors fail to offer (or, perhaps, intentionally omit) bullet point instructions for redesigning the basis of our food system they leave us with a clear sense of what to expect in the future if we continue to ignore the facts of that which is unsustainable, and even more poignantly, unjust. While there is a distinct tone of despair and outrage in each of these books, each author tempers this sourness with his or her own style and flavor of hope and sweetness. And that is about as close to a recipe for establishing a new foundation of feeding ourselves as one can expect.

You can find these books and other related ones here at our store – Rainbow Natural Remedies.

-BA