Labels: 100 mile diet, book review, Farm City, Ghost Town, locavore, Novella Carpenter, Sacramento locavore, urban farmer

I want people to read this book! It’s important.

As a cook, I elate in every fresh fruit, nut, or vegetable that crosses my cutting board. Vanilla bean, watermelon, and almond alike are all capable of sending me skipping across my kitchen with a whistle of delight on my lips. Yet, after reading James Beard Award-winning author Rowan Jacobsen’s Fruitless Fall: The Collapse of the Honey Bee and the Coming Agricultural Crisis, I realize my skipping days might come to an abrupt end. The decline of the honey bee is to blame.

Honey bees and other pollinators are responsible for the production of 80% of the foods that make up our diet, according to Jacobsen. But with the rapid collapse of bee colonies around the globe, those foods stand at dramatic risk of collapse themselves. If we can’t save the bees, we won’t be able to reverse the damage to our juicy watermelons or our buttery almonds. It’s already too late for vanilla.

What in the world is causing our world’s bees to disappear? Fruitless Fall weaves a tangled web of the many possible culprits: pesticides, stress, monoculture crops, an unhealthy plant, an addiction to cheap food, and antibiotics are just a few. Put all these factors together, and you’ve got an industry rife with problems that spell annihilation for our once-buzzing bees.

Fruitless Fall provides a thorough study of the role of honey bees in our contemporary agricultural system. Jacobsen educates the reader on everything bee-related from the science of the hive, the history of their transcontinental evolutionary journeys, the economics of honey, to a prototypical—and in some instances, a realistic—world without bees. You’ll learn how bees reproduce, the healthy ingredients that make up their potent honey, and the dog-eat-dog affect of capitalism on agricultural practices that in turn affect our striped friends.

It may come as no surprise that the rapid decline in the world bee population directly coincided with the 37% rise in grocery prices in 2006. But did you know that the exorbitant cost of vanilla is also directly linked to bees’ demise? According to Jacobsen, the only native bee capable of pollinating vanilla flowers has become extinct due to deforestation. Now, the only animal responsible for that creamy, sweet spice in your morning latte is man. Vanilla plants are literally pollinated by hand, “making it the most labor-intensive crop in the world” (page 202). No other species of bee has been able to replace this labor.

Because flowers and bees have evolved in such perfect harmony, when human practices cause the downfall of one, it’s only a matter of time before we experience the downfall of the other.

Fruitless Fall reveals the ugly underbelly of our collective need for cheap food and how that’s damaging bees and the honey industry. After all, where do we turn when we want something cheap? China, of course. Jacobsen takes us to the environmental-damage behemoth of a country, where pesticides are dumped, sprayed, and injected like weed seeds, ultimately infesting its honey exports with highly damaging chemicals. Although America can’t boast a light-handed pesticide record, it still shines like a nova compared to the pesticide black hole that is China. So, while American honey bee keepers are already experiencing declines in revenue with the weakening of their hives, China’s kicking them while their down with its cheap, but illegal, chemical-laden honey exports. Meanwhile, China’s own bee population is dwindling.

Sadly, China isn’t the only culprit in this story. Packed with a deluge of hardily-researched data and stories from across our own country, Fruitless Fall paints a disheartening picture of our current agricultural system—one that is heavily dependent upon a disappearing black-and-yellow-striped workforce. Jacobsen takes his reader to the almond fields of California (our state’s biggest and most lucrative export crop) to reveal an industry on the brink of disaster if we cannot keep our bees healthy, and one that in fact, may be causing the poor health of those bees. Jacobsen informs us of one beekeeper after another whose livelihoods have failed with the insect’s decline.

Yet, Jacobsen’s story doesn’t end in despair. He introduces us to bee saviors who are using organic methods to revive the honey bee. In a world riddled with chemicals, can the organic farmers help the bee make a comeback? Can they compete?

Like any good book, this one leaves the ultimate answer to us. There’s a list of pollinator-friendly plants that you can grow in your own yard, and a list of ways to make a difference in saving the bee, the butterfly, and a host of other pollinating critters.

After all, the future of our recipes depends on it!

Labels: agricultural crisis, bee collapse, book review, California almonds, collapse of the honey bee, colony collapse disorder, Fruitless Fall, honey, honey bee, honey bees, pollinators, Rowan Jacobsen

In honor of Ruth Reichl’s upcoming appearance in Sacramento as part of the California Lecture Series, I am providing a review of the book that made me a food writer: Garlic and Sapphires: The Secret Life of a Critic in Disguise.

I first stumbled across this book in an airport several years ago. Bored with the nonfiction book I had packed, and facing a long delay, I headed to the airport bookstore for something more spirited. The pickings were slim, but Garlic and Sapphires stood out. I didn’t imagine myself the type of person who would devour every word written by a food critic. To me, such people belonged to a group of pretentious elites. I’m a practical cook. I use coupons when I eat out. I’m passionate about food, but how could I ever relate to a food critic? Didn’t they dine in exclusive restaurants eating nothing but caviar and champagne?

Yet, the book jacket of Garlic and Sapphires seemed to present something different. It promised the story of a critic who hid behind disguises in the hopes of being treated like a “regular” customer, maybe even a customer like me. It promised laughs. This was just the sort of light reading I needed.

With the swipe of my credit card, little did I know that my life was about to change.

With one turn of the page, I was immediately hooked by Garlic and Sapphires. This was not the story of a highfalutin food snob. Instead, it was the story of a mother, a wife, a daughter, a friend. She took me with her to her new job at the New York Times, where she was at times timid. She took risks as a female in a traditionally male profession. She went to great pains to hide her position of authority as an important food critic in order to reveal the treatment of ordinary people in the city’s finest restaurants. She even ate in (gasp) ethnic restaurants off the five-star circuit—a new twist for the paper.

To my great surprise, I found myself wholly immersed in every word of her food reviews. When she described taking a bite of sushi, I could feel the sting of wasabi on my tongue. When she ate a piece of steak, my mouth watered. And I’m a vegetarian!

Reichl’s keen ability to transfer food’s flavor to the pages of a book and then straight onto your palette astounds. No other writer possesses this mouth-watering ability. Her zeal for food and for life leaps off every page. Similarly, her ability to draw you in, using food as an anchor for more meaningful stories about family, friends, and profession, leaves the reader hungry for more.

Garlic and Sapphires is the story of a woman making ethical choices as she bravely transforms the field of food writing. Her culinary tales act as condiment, bringing zest and depth to the book. One of my favorite vignettes shares an intimate moment between Reichl and her young son as they stir together the ingredients for a simple cake. That scene reveals the deeply personal relationships Reichl communicates to her reader through food, and her very unpretentious approach.

Through this book, my own zeal for writing was reawakened. As a young girl, I always told my mom I would grow up to be a writer. Yet soon after college, I chose another path. The writing I performed at work held a much more standard function. It never sparked a fire in my belly as the words of Ruth Reichl did.

When I finished reading Garlic and Sapphires, I bought Reichl’s other memoires. After reading Tender at the Bone, I put the book down and opened my laptop. For the first time since high school, I began writing from a place of passion—and I haven’t stopped.

If you want a taste of this inspiration, Ruth Reichl is coming to Sacramento on March 26. For $100, you can join her for a Garlic and Sapphires reception at Grange Restaurant & Bar. Though I admit it’s a steep price, I also believe that if you’re passionate about food, this might be the best $100 you’ll ever spend.

Labels: book review, California Lecture Series, food critic, food writer, Garlic and Sapphires, Ruth Reichl, Sacramento, Tender at the Bone

You’ll be dreaming tomatoes after reading Tim Stark’s Heirloom: Notes from an Accidental Tomato Farmer. Though I’m not certain you’ll be dreaming of your own farm.

Stark’s memoir is a gritty, yet passionate look at the life of an organic farmer. Stark lives the life of someone reaching back into history only to find himself surrounded by a buzzing modern world. He toils haphazardly between the two, loving bits of each in his own way. He farms the land on his boyhood home in Pennsylvania, driving regularly to New York City to deliver his produce to the city’s top chefs.

He learns organic farming methods from Mennonite neighbors, battles modern fertilizing practitioners from his childhood, dines in the fine restaurants where his veggies are sold, learns to forage for wild greens with his global cadre of laborers, and rarely gets a full night’s sleep.

Simply written and hard to put down, Heirloom depicts the challenges organic farmers face, and also the passion that drives them to toil on. It is both glory-filled and heart-breaking simultaneously. Stark illustrates the heroic qualities in all organic farmers and the sacrifices made to eke out a living—and to bring those gorgeous, rainbow heirloom tomatoes to the local farmers’ market.

You’ll be inspired. You’ll laugh at Stark’s wit. And you will possibly cry as the story skips from the Ireland potato blight to the current-day extermination of quality farm land as it turns into the newest big box store.

One thing is certain: your appreciation for organic produce and for your local farmer will be raised.

Labels: book review, heirloom tomato, Heirloom: Notes from an Accidental Tomato Farmer, organic farmer, Tim Stark

As the country plunges further into recession, Deep Economy offers a financial solution based on common sense. Written long before the current financial crisis, Bill McKibben’s book casts doubt on our current model of capitalism, a system sustained by the production of everything from food to fuel on a massive scale: a model that benefits some, but leaves many behind. Instead, McKibben suggests we take a look closer to home at a financial model benefitting everyone, including our planet.

Chock full of case studies, the book features community organic farms in Cuba, solar energy sharing plans in U.S. neighborhoods, and rabbit micro-businesses in China. Globally, community members are coming together to develop new financial projects that branch out and touch the lives of all affected, while simultaneously protecting our planet. Sure, most folks realize the ecological benefits of eating locally—but who knew it could have financial pay-offs as well?

Deep Economy is not a liberal or a conservative text. Well researched, it draws upon economic studies to poke holes in the current American capitalist logic that suggests “more is better. “

McKibben points out that “The idea that there is a state called happiness, and that we can dependably figure out what it feels like and how to measure it, is extremely subversive. It would allow economists to start thinking about life in far richer terms, allow them to stop asking ‘What did you buy?’ and start asking ‘Is your life good?’…Because if you ask someone ‘Is your life good?’ and count on the answer to mean something, then you’ll be able to move to the real heart of the matter, the question haunting our moment on earth: Is more better?”

McKibben examines the benefits—psychological, financial, and environmental—of being part of a thriving community structure. The book dismisses as flawed our current economic model, which relies heavily on a sense of individualism, a model that the planet physically cannot sustain.

If Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle proves that eating locally is good for our planet, and Dr. Daphne Miller’s The Jungle Effect illustrates the health benefits of such a diet, then Bill McKibben’s Deep Economy casts the final, favorable vote by showing the financial benefits of local eating. This book stands up in favor of family, community, quality over quantity, planet sustainability, and richness of life.

As our politicians discuss bailout packages and CEO salaries, perhaps one of them will pick up a copy of Deep Economy. I believe they will find a winning solution in its pages. In the meantime, the book offers a way for all of us to follow its wisdom in our own, simple lives.

Labels: "Animal, "The Jungle Effect", Bill McKibben, book review, community garden, Deep Economy, eating locally, economics, locavore, Miracle", planet, recession, sustainability, vegetable

Grab your mosquito net and your whisk. You’re about to embark upon a culinary health journey the likes of which no other book offers.

The Jungle Effect by Dr. Daphne Miller provides medical evidence of the health benefits from eating seasonally, locally, and organically. We all knew these diets were good for the planet; Miller points out why they are good for people, too. Her travels take place in the world’s “cold spots:” regions with little prevalence of diseases like colon cancer, heart disease, or depression. What do their diets have in common with being disease-free?

Miller provides delightful tales of digging for wild greens on the hillsides of the Mediterranean or guzzling mountain-made sports drinks in Copper Canyon. You’ll learn of foods as unique as cactus and as common as the potato. Why are they so good for our bodies? How do we prepare them? Where can we buy them?

Don’t let the medical science scare you away from one of this year’s best reads. The Jungle Effect is easily digestible—both the reading and the recipes included. Each chapter carries you to a new corner of the world where neon yellow cheese in a box and foam-wrapped, fast-food burgers have yet to penetrate. (Did you know such places still exist?)

Cast all prejudices aside: this is not a wacky new health book preaching a fad diet. Based in nutritional science, foraged at the local farmers’ market, and brought to life in easy-to-prepare home kitchen recipes, the diet Miller suggests borrows heavily from what other locavores have been touting for years. If you have already been filing your kitchen pantry with the bounty of your garden or farmers’ market, you are already firmly prepared to incorporate Miller’s recipes. Even if you haven’t, you’re just a hop, skip, and a cabbage from making the transition. No international passport required.

For any true food nerd interested in why our bodies crave anti-oxidants, or what benefits we reap from pork, this book is for you! Do you know someone with a family history of breast cancer? Then you’ll want to lend her this book. Have a parent with arthritis? Read up before the next family dinner.

From Iceland to Okinawa, The Jungle Effect offers travel tastes from around the globe that will tempt your tummy. Put that together with the nutritional knowledge you will gain and you’ve got the actual recipes to a happy, healthy diet. As they say in Denmark: Ver så godt. Or in Paris: Bon appétit!

Labels: "cold spot", "The Jungle Effect", book review, Daphne Miller, diet, health, locavore, nutrition, recipes, travel

Grow your own peanuts! Make your own cheese! Pluck your own turkeys!

This is the stuff of Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, a memoir in which her whole family devotes a year to living off the land. The tales of their strict locavore diet make for humorous and delightful reading, but importantly, this story will invoke action.

The book marches the reader through the seasons on Kingsolver’s Midwestern farm, unveiling at each page turn a new garden discovery or pleasant culinary surprise brought from their local lifestyle. Her teenage daughter provides seasonal recipes, and journal-style entries of a modern youth wholeheartedly embracing what might otherwise seem a quaint, hippie parent’s fad. Kingsolver’s husband contributes sidebars to each chapter, providing statistics and historical research that will send you running (not driving) straight to the farmers’ market.

For instance, he explains that "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."

Part of the charm of this tale lies in its ability to entice the reader with the joys, but also the manageability, of eating locally. Kingsolver describes making homemade mozzarella cheese at home (she claims it can be done in under 30 minutes!), growing bean sprouts on her window sill, or using their bread maker on a regular basis. Also, for those not ready to dive head-first into a “purist” locavore lifestyle, she offers suggestions to make the transition easier. For instance, each of her family members selected one must-have product that would not be grown locally. From coffee to spices to chocolate, they each chose an item that could be shipped in dry, bulk form, thereby creating less ecological damage than, say, shipping bottles of orange juice cross-country.

The book also provides guidance for finding heirloom seeds for your garden, and reviews of farmers and restaurants that are committed to sustainable practices that support a locavore lifestyle.

Chock-full of advice, information, and tasty tales, this book will satisfy your reading cravings, while inspiring you to step out and fill your life with a richness that is unattainable through the aisles of your local supermarket. Read this book, and let the inspiration begin!

Labels: animal, barbara kingsolver, book review, farm, locavore, vegetable