My mother grew up on a farm in during the Depression and throughout World War Two. Although at some point my grandparents quit farming and moved into town, much of the rest of the family still farmed and those that didn't gardened. My Great-Uncle Shed raised gorgeous pigs and did all the butchering, sausage-making, smoked pork, and country hams. When I was a little girl, he used to take me to see his pigs and I would scratch between their ears and chuck them under their chins. I knew we were going to eat them, but it seemed cool to give them affection - for respect their coming sacrifice if for nothing else. My mother and I were laughing about the fact that now my Great-Uncle Shed would be an "artisanal" butcher. Funny, that.

I also grew up in a family of foodies so there were often gardens around us and I've been going to farmer's markets since I was a kid - sometimes just a few trucks, sometimes a bunch of farmers underneath a closed off highway underpass - always beautiful food with great value for the money. We ate locally and seasonally and never thought anything about it. I compare those markets to local ones - here in Berkeley and the Ferry Building Farmer's Market in San Francisco and always end up sort of depressed. These markets aren't bringing affordable produce into the neighborhoods, but rather extra fancy, overpriced, yuppie food. It's sad - we all think we're closer to the farm and to local sustainability and, instead, we're building food economies for the wealthy.

Despite all of that, regular people continue to garden, keep bees, brew beer, make wine, learn to butcher like my Uncle Shed did, hunt and gather, fish, and use all of these ongoing activities to build community and feed their families fresh and healthy food, particularly in places where none of that is available. Eat the City tells the New York side of this story. Spotlighting modern individuals and weaving the history of the city and its industries throughout, the book is unputdownable. The absolute second that I finished it, I wanted to read it all over again.

Ms. Shulman has a wonderful clear voice, her reporting is excellent, and most of what she wrote about was uplifting to me. I loved the stuff about beekeeping, although it's something I could never do since I'm deathly allergic. It was fascinating, though, to learn about all the beehives on rooftops and the terroir of honey that tells the tale of the neighborhoods.

I was also very fond of the section on brewing beer. When I was a little girl my father and one of his friends brewed beautiful beers in the basement of one of their houses. I loved the idea of a potter and a sculptor using their creativity in a different and almost alchemical way. As an adult I lived in Seattle for ten years - the ten years that saw an explosion of local craft beers and have been spoiled ever since.

I have to admit that the section on fishing made me so very sad. My grandfather took me out on Puget Sound to fish pretty much all year round if I was around. I caught the biggest Petrale sole and the biggest salmon ever caught by anyone in the family. I share credit with my father for the salmon because it took both of us to haul that sucker up. I remember vividly how beautiful it was, but I also remember the amazing meal that it made for the entire family - grilled on a special grill for large cuts of meat and fish and treated with tender loving care. I cleaned every piece of fish I caught - it was a requirement - and I can see now how much it connected us to the creature we were going to eat. It is heartbreaking how much of our water is so polluted that the fish is essentially poisonous, but people eat it anyway.

This book just went up there with The Omnivore's Dilemna by Michael Pollan as one of my very favorite food books that we will be recommending to everyone I know. One of the best books I've read all year. You must read this book.