Jenyfer Matthews

I finished reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma last weekend, but I wanted to take a little time to think about it before I wrote, to formulate something thoughtful to say other than “You must read this book!” – because this book does nothing if not make you think.

Where In Defense of Food examined the cult of nutritionism and shed light into the mystery of processed food, The Omnivore’s Dilemma examines food chains – exactly where does the food we eat come from. The food chains Pollan looks at are industrial, organic / alternative, and hunting / gathering.

I probably would have been a flower child had I been alive in the 60’s – I’m pretty skeptical by nature, particularly of politicians and big business. It really wasn’t such a huge surprise to me to read about what exactly goes on in the industrial farming world or the motivations behind it, and yet it was horrifying just the same. The toll that mono-agriculture takes on the environment, on the livelihood of the farmers, and ultimately on the public’s health is nothing short of stupefying – because all I can ask myself is why on earth do we go along with it? The answer goes back to money, big surprise. It all starts with growing corn and myriad of things that the food industry can do with that one cheap crop – run through a mass spectrometer, Pollan found that a much larger percentage of a McDonald’s meal is actually made up of corn than you would think, including 100% of the soda. If you are now wondering what’s so bad about eating corn, not only does it take a tremendous toll on the land to endlessly grow the same crop, but remember that many of the Western diseases like heart disease and diabetes can be linked back to the modern industrial diet – of processed corn.

The next food chains he looked at were organic and alternative. If you think that because you eat organic vegetables you’re exonerated from supporting the industrial food complex, think again. While organic farming does indeed spare the environment from a load of toxic pesticides (always a good thing) the fact is that most organic farming is done on an industrial scale in California. Pollan points out that from the moment a head of organic lettuce is picked it must be kept chilled to a precise temperature until it leaves the grocery store. So, when you factor in all the energy consumed in chilling and then transporting that lettuce from California across the country (or in some cases, the globe) to its final destination, that same lettuce isn’t really so “green” anymore. And it’s not really so much better a system for the animals involved in it either. Kind of makes you stop and think, doesn’t it?

On the other hand, there are a few small alternative farms such as Polyface Farm in Virginia, run by Joel Salatin. He follows a really wild and crazy farming practice where he lets animals and plants co-exist in mutually beneficial patterns. He doesn’t call himself an organic farmer because based on government guidelines, he isn’t. He isn’t for instance using approved and tested feeds such as using “Feed #2” on their chickens. Instead he calls himself a “grass farmer”. He has a well orchestrated system of rotating his cattle and his chickens through his pastures, letting the grass, the cows, and the chickens all follow their natural predilections. Sounds like a great system, right? But because the chickens are out in a pasture eating “unidentified” grass and grubs, etc they cannot legally be called organic. Fortunately, Joel Salatin doesn’t care, nor do most of his customers. The fact that his cows and chickens have a much better quality of life – not to mention diet – is more compelling for them than a government stamp.

I think the food chain discussion that I found most interesting though was the hunting / gathering one. I love gathering “free” food – I can remember one summer in North Carolina when I found a blackberry patch of mammoth proportions. I was out every morning, in spite of the heat and bugs and thorns, gathering as many berries as I could get. I even dreamed about berries. That was the year I taught myself to make jam. Last summer I spent a lot of time eating beach peas, fresh from the pod. There’s nothing I love quite so well as gathering. Pollan’s description of mushroom hunting has almost got me wanting to go out try it myself, but I’m still a little scared of making a mistake at that activity and frankly I don’t think many mushrooms grow in the desert!

But it was the discussion of hunting that was most interesting. I long ago decided that though I didn’t think I could bring myself to go out and personally kill an animal, it didn’t make any sense to reject eating game just because someone else had done so. If I was going to eat a cow, why not a deer? After reading this section of the book, I’m actually more positive about hunting now. Not that it’s something I think everyone should do instead of grocery shopping (not sustainable) but because at least a deer has had its time in the forest, following its natural instincts to eat what it’s supposed to eat, and lived a quality deer life – as opposed to a cow that has been fattened in a feedlot eating a diet of corn, animal by-products, and antibiotics (a diet cooked up by scientists to build bulk faster) all consumed while standing in a pond of feces from the hundreds of cows quartered with it. Where’s the quality of life in that scenario?

One of the things I like the best about living in Egypt is that the whole country is like a big farmer’s market. On the whole, the farmers don’t use much if any pesticides because they can’t afford them. Most of the food available is grown within a couple hours drive of Cairo and is transported in small pickup trucks – and in many cases by donkey cart. I buy locally when I can because not only is it fantastic stuff, but it is cheaper than imported produce and also supports the local economy. Long before reading this book, living in Egypt brought to my attention the beauty of eating what’s in season here and now.

Pollan ends his book in the most reasonable of ways – only with the idea that we look and really see where it is our food is coming from, whether it be from the forest or McDonald’s. Does reading this book mean that I’m going to change the way I eat? How could it not? One day I truly hope to have my own vegetable garden. And while I’m not quite prepared to swear off eating a burger once in a while, I am glad that I’m not a daily or even weekly participant in a cycle that demands 400 cows AN HOUR are slaughtered on an assembly line to feed it. And if I ever find myself living within driving distance of an alternative farm such as Polyface, I’ll certainly do my best to support their endeavors.