Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life

by Barbara Kingsolver

A quick way to improve food-related fuel economy would be to buy a quart of motor oil and drink it. More palatable options are available. If every U.S. citizen ate just one meal a week (any meal) composed of locally and organically raised meats and produce, we would reduce our country’s oil consumption by over 1.1 million barrels of oil every week. That’s not gallons, but barrels. Small changes in buying habits can make big differences. Becoming a less energy-dependent nation may just need to start with a good breakfast.

We’re a nation with an eating disorder, and we know it. The multiple maladies caused by bad eating are taking a dire toll on our health—most tragically for our kids, who are predicted to be this country’s first generation to have a shorter life expectancy than their parents. That alone is a stunning enough fact to give us pause. So is a government policy that advises us to eat more fruits and vegetables, while doling out subsidies not to fruit and vegetable farmers, but to commodity crops destined to become soda pop and cheap burgers. The Farm Bill, as of this writing, could aptly be called the Farm Kill, both for its effects on small farmers and for what it does to us, the consumers who are financing it. The Green Revolution of the 1970s promised that industrial agriculture would make food cheaper and available to more people. Instead, it has helped more of us become less healthy.

Waiting for the quality experience seems to be the constitutional article that has slipped from American food custom. If we mean to reclaim it, asparagus seems like a place to start. And if the object of our delayed gratification is a suspected aphrodisiac? That’s the sublime paradox of a food culture: restraint equals indulgence.

Whether you’re a rural or urban consumer, it’s easier than ever to find local or regionally grown food. Following the passage of the Farmer-to-Consumer Direct Marketing Act of 1976, active U.S. farmers’ markets have grown from about 350 to well over 3,500 today, or an average of 75 per state. Most urban areas host farmers’ markets from spring until fall; some are open all year. Market rules usually guarantee that the products are fresh and local. Farmers’ markets are also a good place to ask about direct sales from farmer to consumer. Options include roadside stands, U-pick operations, artisanal products, buyers’ clubs, and community-supported agriculture (CSA). In a typical CSA, subscribers pay a producer in early spring and then receive a weekly share of the produce all season long. Don’t be afraid to ask producers what else they might have available. Someone selling eggs on Saturday morning probably has eggs the rest of the week. Farmers can also tell you which local stores may sell their eggs, meat, or produce. Many grocery and health-food stores now stock local foods, as more consumers ask. Locally owned stores are better bets, since chains rely on regional distribution. And don’t overlook small ethnic or specialty grocers. You can find your nearest farmers’ markets and local producers on the USDA Web site: www.ams.usda.gov/farmersmarkets. Also check: www.local harvest.org and www.csacenter.org.

David summarizes his position on technology in one word: boundaries. “The workhorse places a limit on the size of our farms, and the standardbred horse-drawn buggy limits the distances we travel. This is basically what we need. This is what keeps our communities healthy.” It makes perfect sense, of course, that limiting territory size can yield dividends in appreciation for what one already has, and the ability to manage it without debt. The surprise is to find whole communities gracefully accepting such boundaries, inside a nation that seems allergic to limitations, priding itself instead on the freedom to go as far as we want, as fast as we can, and buy until we run out of money—or longer, if we have credit cards.

Information and locations can be found at the American Community Garden Association site: www.communitygarden.org.