The "omnivore's dilemma" revolves around the age old question of, "what's for dinner?" Since we humans have the capacity of memory and speech, we are able to pass along the vast body of accumulated knowledge regarding what tastes good and is healthy, and what tastes bad and can kill us. Koalas, for example, do not have this problem because they know what's on their menu every day for every meal: eucalyptus leaves. Mr. Pollan's thesis is that we've arrived back at the point in time when we are at a loss to know what to eat because we have so many choices, many of which aren't really choices at all, but rather clever re-packaging of the same products. Walking down the supermarket aisle trying to decide what is good and what is bad reasserts the omnivore's dilemma.
When I picked up this book I was skeptical. I did not want to waste my time reading a diatribe against the corporate food structure, the sins of animal protein and the virtues of veganism. For some, eating food is a supremely political act, and these people seem to get published in spades. For me, eating food is just lunch most of the time--unless it's breakfast or dinner. Ultimately though, I believe in eating locally; I prefer to BBQ the flesh of a happily raised, drug-free animal, and I like to know where my food comes from.
Mr. Pollan follows four meals from production to the plate. The first part of the book is devoted to corn, and how it permeates virtually every corner of the supermarket (and beyond) in some form or another. He visits a farmer in Iowa and delves deeply into how subsidies motivate farmers to grow an ever increasing corn yield even when it makes no economic sense. He also highlights exactly how entrenched the military-industrial complex is in our food chain, and the tremendous amounts of toxic waste created from field runoff and industrial scale feedlots. Not much about industrial corn crops and farm subsidies was new to me; and having driven past "Cow-schwitz" on interstate 5 in the Central Valley numerous times, I was familiar with the stench and the layout of a cattle feedlot. The meal derived from this exercise turns out to be lunch from McDonald's for his family eaten in their car while traveling down the highway.
More informative was the section where he shops at his local Whole Foods Market for an organic/free-range meal. After interviewing and visiting a handful of 70's hippies-turned-capitalists farmers, he determines that the whole "organic" craze is basically a clever way of marketing to guilt-ridden mothers trying to do the right thing. Turns out the massive organic farms that cater to Whole Foods are virtually as industrial as "industrial" farms--they just don't use chemical pesticides which brings into play a whole host of other problems; and "free range" hardly lives up to the images the term inspires in the mind's eye.
Mr. Pollan then visits Polyface Farm and spends a week working with the owner, Joe Salatin. Polyface Farm is "beyond organic". It is a perfect example of zero-waste and low impact farming; the way farming used to be. Everything produced is part of a self-perpetuating cycle. Mr. Salatin thinks of himself as a great conductor, orchestrating the natural rhythms of his farm. He believes, correctly, that an animal is happiest when it is free to do its animal "thing". All of his cows, pigs, rabbits and chickens are allowed to live this way before they are slaughtered. Clearly, Polyface farm is the antitheses of industrial farming.
Being an amateur mycologist myself, the last part of the book is what resonated most deeply with me as it was devoted to a "hunter and gatherer" meal. He learned to hunt, shot a wild boar, foraged for morel and chantrelle mushrooms, picked fruit from around his neighborhood, and prepared a wonderful meal from scratch for all the people that assisted him in his quest.
I found the entire book well written, well researched, informative and often humorous, but it is the following paragraph that really stuck with me for some reason:
The fact that you cannot come out of hunting feeling unambiguously good about it is perhaps what should commend the practice to us. You certainly don't come out of it eager to protest your innocence. If I've learned anything about hunting and eating meat, it's that it's even messier than the moralist thinks. Having killed a pig and looked at myself in that picture and now looking forward (if that's the word) to eating that pig, I have to say there is a part of me that envies the moral clarity of the vegetarian, the blamelessness of the tofu eater. Yet part of me pities him too. Dreams of innocence are just that; they usually depend on a denial of reality that can be its own form of hubris. Ortega suggests that there is an immorality in failing to look clearly at reality, or in believing the force of human will can somehow overcome it. "The preoccupation with what should be is estimable only when the respect for what is has been exhausted."Those last two lines are brilliant; and unfortunate examples of this state of mind can be found far outside the pages of this book.
I'm a foodie at heart and I've always had more than a passing interest in nutrition. If it were not my job to babysit rich people's money every day and I was looking for an alternate career, I might choose to be a nutritionist. Back in my culinary school days, nutrition classes were my favorite, and "you are what you eat" has always resonated with me because it is important to know what you are putting into your body every time you sit down to a meal. None of this is to say I treat my body like a temple, but most of the time I eat right; at least what I view as right. Milk is for cows, processed food is the devil, you cannot eat too many leafy green vegetables, there's no reason to drink soda unless there's bourbon in it, too much fatty meat will clog your arteries, fast food always smells better than it tastes. Those are my general guidelines, but above all I enjoy tasty, well prepared, quality, food; and like the French I believe it's bad manners to not eat "this" or abstain from "that" when in social settings.
Ultimately, good nutrition boils down to the timeless wisdom of grandpa: "moderation is the key". A healthy state of mind is a big component of good overall health. Eat what makes you feel good, just don't eat too much of it and don't eat it everyday. That way, when you choose to eat a chili dog topped with a fried egg, sausage and cheese, know that you should probably forget the regular coke and wash it all down with a diet coke instead.
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