A wise man recently told me, "Capitalism is here to stay." With that in mind, Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma is a feel good guide to consumerism at its most sustainable, organic, locally grown, and ultimately high-end. Yes, this is an eye-opening read that will, at first, make you want to stop eating all together then compel you to grab a sturdy pair of boots you can kick around in, throw on some clothes that will certainly get dirty, if not bloody, and step into the splendors of the natural world. Pollan leads us on an epicurean journey that most of us could take only through the guiles of his literary skills and a comfortable armchair. We dredge through the horrors of industrial farming, contemplate over the simplicity of small, sustainable growers, and track through the forests of Northern California hunting wild boar and foraging for chanterelles. What we discover on his trek for the "Perfect Meal" is no real surprise to anyone who pays attention to the news. Americans are squeezed tightly between the behemoth corporate Charybdis that's killing us with corn-fed livestock and wreaking havoc across the country, spilling into our oceans. Then there's Scylla to our left, the over-priced, just beyond our reach, pure and golden harvest of sustainable, organic, locally grown food. However, unless you live in Northern California--and Pollan does!-- or one of the few corners of the U.S. where you can easily access this food on a weekly basis without the guilt of carbon footprints, or have the property to grow for yourself--ahem! subprime mortgage crisis, you'll just have to imagine the good life and take Pollan's word for it.

Pollan seems to willfully neglect the chasm between the haves (those who can waltz into Chez Panisse, meet with Alice Waters, and enjoy fresh goat cheese and endive) and the vast amount of have-nots, who demand and therefore fuel our fast food nation. In one chapter Pollan indulges in the quintessential American family experience of ordering 2 Big Macs, super-sized fries, and a Happy Meal. He queasily downs the over-processed, cholesterol clogging feed with his family in the comfort and convenience of his convertible car. What he fails to recognize is that people do this not necessarily because its fun, but if we're treated as "Human Resources" we will act like Human Resources. Just pull onto your nearby freeway, and you'll see for yourself. It's not hard to spot any nameless driver passing by, cheeseburger or breakfast burrito in one hand, steering wheel in the other. For most people, eating is not a ritual to be shared with the family and support local businesses. Eating is simply re-fueling; something workers or resources do on their way to or from work. Expressways as feedlots is by no means acceptable, but it is the state of our society, or at least a stratum and economic phenomenon that Pollan has decidedly left out.

Pollan means well and we certainly can't go on eating the same food in the same way. Lest we keep pumping money into a health and food system, which in turn pumps our television with commercials that in one minute entice us with grease-laden, over-processed meat to clog our hearts and arteries. Then the next minute another commercial urges us to get hooked on Lipitor or Lopressor, which we probably wouldn't need if we hadn't eaten those cheeseburgers in the first place. We also can't ignore that the cost of our appetites is speedily deteriorating the Elysian fields that made us a First World Super power.

Capitalism is here to stay, and consumers need to be informed--should be informed, about what we put in our bodies and how we feed our children. We need to start paying the real cost of food up front instead of getting hit with the hidden costs through doctor's bills and E Coli recalls. Still, Pollan's feast is difficult to swallow, much less nearly impossible to sit down to and really enjoy because he has an expense account and two years to scour the East and West Coasts for his meal. The Omnivore's Dilemma is perilous indeed. But I can't help wonder who exactly is this omnivore that Pollan's referring to? Poring over his book, I learn his omnivore has time to hunt for morels, knows how to make a souffle, and has two weeks to spare to arrange a dinner party for twelve guests among the bountiful gardens of Berkeley, California. Pollan's omnivore's dilemma comes down to what to eat and how to eat it when you have the time and means to contemplate. That's all very well and good, but the rest of us "omnivores" are still over-worked, under-nourished, and starving.

Esse livro é daqueles pra acabar de ler e fazer a resenha imediatamente pra não perder a emoção. Que livro sensacional!

Michael Pollan tem uma capacidade impressionante de concatenar ideias e se expressar: política, economia e ciência se costuram lindamente em um texto cheio de humor e toques pessoais sobre as experiências do autor enquanto pesquisava e escrevia o livro. Pra mim, engenheira de alimentos, o livro talvez tenha um gosto de algo mais, mas é leitura obrigatória pra todo mundo que vive nesse mundo, independente da formação.

O mais incrível do livro é que Michael Pollan não defende uma única posição sobre nossa responsabilidade na hora de comer; ele te dá todos os argumentos e pros e contras de várias visões e, sem oprimir ou panfletar, nos faz pensar sobre o lugar de cada um de nós na busca de um modelo de produção de alimentos que seja sustentável.

Se você se questiona constantemente sobre como comer de modo mais ecológico, mais social e VERDADEIRAMENTE sustentável (pra não falar mais saudável), esse é o livro pra você. Ele não vai te dar uma fórmula, mesmo porque ela não existe em nenhuma filosofia atual - orgânicos, vegetarianos e veganos têm seus méritos, mas não tem todas as respostas para o desafio de como alimentar seis bilhões de pessoas. Mas o livro vai sim dar todas as ferramentas pra você entender seu papel na complexa cadeia alimentar que integramos hoje... E, como dizem, conhecimento é poder. :)

"...Imaginem só por um momento se soubéssemos, como seria de se esperar, apenas as coisas banais: O que estamos comendo. De onde isso veio. Como chegou à nossa mesa. E quanto, numa avaliação realista, isso realmente custou. Então poderíamos falar sobre alguma outra coisa à mesa de jantar. Pois não precisaríamos mais ser lembrados de que, a despeito de como escolhemos nos alimentar, nós comemos por obra e graça da natureza, não da indústria, e aquilo que estamos comendo é nada mais nada menos do que o corpo do mundo."

“This book made me go vegan,” said a person I met on a recent hiking trip. Enthralled by her enthusiasm, I felt I needed to give this book a shot. The book focuses on three main areas: corn, grass and the forest. These areas serve as the base of what the animals we eat consume themselves (even if chickens were never supposed to eat corn).

The book allows the reader to conceptualize the roots of what we put on our plates. I finished this novel feeling like I could ask myself crucial questions. Where does my food come from? What is the true cost?

Despite the comment of my co-hiker, I will remain an omnivore. However, I will make a genuine effort to choose more plant-based options. Additionally, I will strive to be more conscientious about the ethical cost of my food, rather than the monetary one.

What should we have for dinner? This book is an extended and moderately involved answer to this apparently straightforward question.

To one degree or another, the query of what to have for dinner besets every omnivore, and always has. When you can eat just about anything nature has to offer, deciding what you should eat will inescapably stir apprehension, particularly when some of the potential foods on offer are liable to sicken or kill you.

This is the omnivore's dilemma, noted long ago by writers like Rousseau and Brillat-Savarin and first given that name thirty years ago by a University of Pennsylvania research psychologist named Paul Rozin.

The author says to have borrowed his phrase for the title of this book because the omnivore's dilemma turns out to be a particularly sharp tool for understanding our present predicaments surrounding food.

Along the way, this book also tries to figure out how such a simple question could ever have gotten so complicated.

As a culture we seem to have arrived at a place where whatever inhabitant astuteness we may once have possessed about eating has been replaced by uncertainty and apprehension. Somehow this most fundamental of activities—figuring out what to eat—has come to require an extraordinary amount of expert help.

In his introduction titled “Our National Eating Disorder,” Pollan asks, “How did we ever get to a point where we need investigative journalists to tell us where our food comes from and nutritionists to determine the dinner menu?”

Lifting the veil from our modern agriculture complex, the author attempts to solve the “omnivore’s dilemma” by looking at four different food chains from source to mealtime: 1) industrial, 2) industrial-scale organic, 3) local and sustainable, and 4) hunter-gatherer.

The book's second part follows what the author calls, “to distinguish it from the industrial—the pastoral food chain”.

This section explores some of the alternatives to industrial food and farming that have sprung up in recent years (variously called "organic," "local," "biological," and "beyond organic"), food chains that might appear to be preindustrial but in surprising ways turn out in fact to be postindustrial.

Pollan raises serious questions about many aspects of food production and animal conditions, and readers will find the material so disturbing that they may never want to eat meat again.

A young-readers’ edition of The Omnivore’s Dilemma (2009) is also available, encouraging kids to become food detectives and to consider the health and environmental propositions of their dietary options.

It’s not every day you read a book that threatens to change your life. I use the word “threaten” very deliberately, because they are changes that I know I'm going to find challenging.

Michael Pollan challenges his readers to examine their food a little closer, to consider where it comes from. And it's a logical request I think. We can spend days searching for the perfect doctor or mechanic, but how much time do we take to really think about our food? Do you know where your steak came from? Is your asparagus from a nearby farm, or far-flung Argentina? Are your peaches organic, and if so, what does that really mean? Most of us have no idea how to answer these questions.

In most cases, the answers are simple. Most of our food likely comes from a massive industrial farm or feed-lot hundreds of miles away, fed by incredible amounts of fossil fuels -- the fertilizer, the machines used for harvesting, the trucks it took to transport the food to your local mega-mart, to name just a few uses of fossil fuel. Pollan's descriptions of these farms (and in particular, the feed lots) can be quite disturbing. However, Pollan does not outright condemn this "industrial food chain." He concedes that it would be difficult to feed billions of people inexpensively without it. Instead, he advocates having several different avenues for delivering food to our tables, and he describes several alternatives. It is up to the reader to determine how they want to eat.

As for me, my eyes have been opened to the appeal of "eating locally," where possible. (Emphasis on "where possible." There aren't too many oranges grown in Idaho.) By eating foods produced as close to my home as possible, I support the local economy, less fossil fuels are used, and the food should have fewer preservatives, hormones, and other chemical ingredients. Best of all, the food should be fresher and more flavorful. Yes, it will cost more, but I think it will be worth it. At least I'm willing to try it. Consider it an experiement. I've already found local sources of milk, eggs and meat that I'm going to try.

I found Pollan's writing engaging and easy to read. (Disclaimer: I am a huge nerd, and the topic really spoke to me. If you don't like science, you may not find this book as fascinating.)

A few words of warning: if evolution makes you uncomfortable, you may not like this book, as it often talks about the evolution of plants, animals and humans. Also, there were two or three instances where objectionable language was used.

Michael Pollan is a food activist, trying to get people to dump fast food and industrial food, and eat healthier. I first came across him in a documentary called Cooked, and I loved the way he talked about fresh food. Eating (and cooking, to some extent) is a passion with me, so I was hooked. I loved the documentary, and I expected to love this book. And I did!

The main subject of the book is how maize (or corn) displaced all other crops in the US. Because it offers a better return for money for the big agrobusinesses, this plant is often preferred by farmers, who find out only too late that this choice has led them down the path of poverty. Industrial farming also leads to environmental disasters, ruining the land, as well as the surrounding water bodies, for future generations.

Pollan also goes into the meat processing industry, and we get to see the sorry state of the cows. Their feed is unhealthy and unnatural, and does not allow them to grow organically. They are kept in overcrowded conditions, standing in their own shit for days on end. The animals are not even allowed a glimpse of the outside world, and even have to engage in forced cannibalism, something not natural for cows. All this is not only terrible for the animals, but their meat also ends up being very unhealthy for consumers. Pollan also talks about the chicken industry, which faces similar issues. Pollan even has issues with industrial organic products, because of the fact that the criteria for labelling anything organic is kept low to help big companies make money.

As an alternative, Pollan describes family-run farm businesses, which incorporate a healthy and full life for the animals before they are slaughtered for meat. The vegetables and fruits are also fresh. The variety of crops and meat means that these farms are also better for the environment overall. The extra money spent would be well-worth the benefits. How accessible such food is for everyone in the US is however not explained.

I think this is a pretty comprehensive look at the food industry in the US, and the impact it has on Americans and the rest of the world. But the best part of the book is when Pollen himself goes out to hunt, gather, and cook his own food! I don't think I will be doing that any time soon, though!

If a book's rating should be measured in how many times I wanted to poke someone and say "Did you know?!" then this book gets a million stars. I love the way Pollan packs in such critical information while keeping it personal and engaging.

I am walking away feeling very determined to try to hunt down more food that is produced ethically and, crazy thought, I actually know where it comes from. Also adding mushroom foraging, being able to eat a meal from my own garden, and shooting a gun to my bucket list.

Only deducted one star because I had a hard time getting through some denser sections, which is my own fault. This is my year of becoming a better non-fiction reader.

April 2012 update to add- I no longer pay big bucks for a dozen eggs, because I haven't bought an egg in more than 2 years! I support a small flock of happy chickens instead.


Lengthy review to come. In the meantime, let me just say---I learned a lot from this book. I also enjoyed some segments very much.

I would have done some extensive editing.

The final chapter is sublime.

OK, my real review:

I am a convenience eater. Michael Pollan's work is transforming me into a conscious eater. Two concrete changes in my behavior: I will now pay the price of a fancy mocha coffee beverage for a dozen eggs gathered from happy chickens. I will also see commercially available breaded chicken with a side of corn as corn dressed with corn and a side of corn. I still may eat it, but at least I know what I'm getting!

It is my hope that these wonderful books I have been reading indicate an American paradigm shift, and that the marketplace will allow people like me (who don't want to spend the time and effort tracking down purveyers of all sorts of specialty foods) more chances to make conscious choices in a convenient way. I will do my best to make choices that are more healthful for me and our planet regardless.

This book was successful in changing my behavior. In large part, it was successful because I was already ripe for changing. Everything from Kingsolver's Animal Vegetable Miracle to Buford's Heat to Van Draanen's sweet young adult novel Flipped has been telling me to embrace these changes. This work built upon that foundation and presented a lot more detailed information supporting the choices that we should all be making. It was well structured, and it needed to be. So much information was packed into each section, it was necessary for me to take breaks.

Some peeves---

Too many declarative sentences. All declarative sentences put me on guard. (See what I did there?) I read something that says or implies "all" and I immediately start casting about defensively for the exceptions. I blame SAT prep. I was also put off by the way in which those declarations seemed designed to make me so defensive, mostly when he seemed dismissive of the travails of gardening, or scornful of the kind of hunter who does not agonize over the creatures' deaths.

Second person. I hate second person. Here's a sentence that combined 2 peeves: "You can forage in the garden, in the way Adam and Eve presumably did, but there isn't much to it: no dilemmas, no hunting stories." And it's kind of a run on sentence too, now that I look at it, although that (obviously, having read any of my reviews!) isn't such a major irritation for me. (See what I did there?)

Rampant anthropomorphism. Corn does not feel happy about taking over the world! Corn does not feel happy! Corn does not feel! This is a Truth. I believe that much of the anthropomorphism here was used as a bit of shorthand, implying all the Darwinian blah blah blah rather than spelling it out, and also trying to fix an image in the mind of the reader, but it is NOT TRUE. It bothers me. (Althoug I do like the image of an army of cornstalks marchng across the landscape, and it truly did stick with me.)

LOVED---

All descriptions of all meals.

All the time spent at the idealized farm. (I forget what it's called and can't be bothered to look it up.)

Everything to do with the mushrooms. (I think I'm due to read a book about mushrooms next.)

The desription of the first hunt----soooooo true to my one hunting experience, in which I spent every fiber of my being on NOT MAKING ANY NOISE. It was such an intense time, and he captured that beautiully.



I feel like there's so much more to say. Suiffice---I enjoyed most of this book. I learned. A lot.

I thoroughly enjoyed The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan. He's been one of my favorite writers, ever since I read A Place of My Own, some years ago. And I stumble across stories by him in the New York Times Sunday Magazine, often quite by accident, and then look at the byline to see who this talented writer is, and there's Pollan again.

The book has the distinct danger of making you annoying to your spouse/partner/children, because you'll be reading along and feel compelled to share a fact about how industrial corn production has wormed its way into nearly every aspect of the American diet. I know my 12-year-old daughter cringes when we go the store, and I inspect the ingredients, calling out, "Yep, there's corn in this, too."

Pollan is an immensely fun writer, because he enjoys learning about this stuff, and he's skilled at taking the reader along on the journey, not just through the facts, but through feedlots, and chicken slaughtering, and mushroom hunting. He takes a close look at the industrialization of food production (which depends heavily and crazily on corn), large scale organic farming, and then at a sustainable farming operation, and then around a meal that he assembles using his hunting and gathering skills (relying heavily on the skills of others).

For our family, this book seems perfectly timed, since we've been making huge dietary changes around here since Halloween, cutting out animal products and most refined and processed foods. We were doing it for health reasons, but this books adds an entirely new level of justification. Not that Pollan is saying you should become a vegan. Not at all. He's saying that we owe it to ourselves to become more conscious about what we actually put in our mouths, and the effects that its creation is having on us, our culture, and our planet.

My only disappointment is that in the final wrap-up, he focuses on the extreme distance between the industrialized food he and his family consumes and the meal that he makes through hunting and gathering, without mentioning enough of the sustainable farm that he'd visited. (That section made me want to go out and buy some land and start farming. Tomorrow.) We spent so much time with Pollan through this book, I wanted a stronger sense of whether all this had actually managed to change his day-to-day buying and eating habits. But those are really minor points.

(Also, don't miss a terrific essay Pollan wrote for the NY Times in January, Unhappy Meals, about what we really should eat. Really, it's the answer to what was bugging me about the end of his book. It should be included as an addendum to every copy of The Omnivore's Dilemma.)

Man, this book is great. The best book I read last year, easily. Mushrooms, chicken slaughter, sustainability, french fries, soul-searching questions, it's all here. Just read it already.

Okay, if that didn't sell you, here's more info, from the review I wrote for my farm community (Stearns Farm, Framingham, MA):

The Omnivore’s Dilemma created a lot buzz since its publication in 2006, so you may have read it already. If you haven’t picked it up yet, consider checking it out. At 464 pages, it is definitely on the long side, but it’s an engaging, easy read, and it puts the question “where do we get our food?” front and center in a fascinating way. Its four different sections break up the book nicely (you could read one section a month, for example, if your reading time is limited), and it is also coming out in convenient paperback form next month.

In the book, Michael Pollan traces the history and ingredients of four different meals: one from McDonald's, one from Whole Foods market, one from a small farm in Virginia, and one composed of ingredients that he gathered (and killed) on his own. The meal from McDonald’s (about 70% of which is derived from corn) allows him to take a trip down the rabbit-hole into the world of high fructose corn syrup and the massive, genetically-modified mono-farms that produce the majority of corn in this country. The Whole Foods meal is obviously a step up from this, although here Pollan explores the conundrum of eating organically if that means flying peaches in from Chile in December. This section of the book does a fine job explaining that “organic” does not necessarily mean sustainable. Next Pollan spends a week on a farm in Virginia that serves in many ways as an idyllic model for where to get your food. (Hello, Stearns!) Finally, in a section that is as much “adventure series” as it is agricultural critique, Pollan creates a gourmet meal for his friends using only items he gathered himself, including bread made with yeast collected from his backyard and sea salt procured from the Northern California coast on which he lives.

Hunting and gathering all of your own food these days may seem unfeasible, especially to create the kind of elaborate feast Pollan does. (Although Stearns provides the opportunity to get much closer to that goal). However, even if you are unable to rustle around in the woods for wild boar or visit a fire-blackened forest to pick morel mushrooms, as Pollan does, you will come away from the book re-energized with the commitment to eat locally and sustainably. Pollan may not have deliberately set out to promote CSAs such as Stearns Farm, but that is a happy side benefit of the work. He also writes sensitively and without a sense of moral superiority—it can feel unusual to read a book on this subject that doesn't make you feel bad about yourself. And yet, the information Pollan presents simply and persuasively will compel you to both thought and action, making The Omnivore’s Dilemma an excellent read and great inspiration for the next time you are out in the pick-your-own beds, gathering food for your family’s dinner.

www.outland-ish.com
Honest Tales from Overseas

The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals, Michael Pollan
The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals is a nonfiction book written by American author Michael Pollan published in 2006. In the book, Pollan asks the seemingly straightforward question of what we should have for dinner. As omnivores, the most unselective eaters, humans are faced with a wide variety of food choices, resulting in a dilemma. Pollan suggests that, prior to modern food preservation and transportation technologies, this particular dilemma was resolved primarily through cultural influences.

تاریخ نخستین خوانش: روز سی و یکم ماه اکتبر سال 2017 میلادی
عنوان: معضل جانور همه‌چیزخوار؛ نویسنده: مارک پولان‏‫ (پولن)؛ مترجم: آرش حسینیان؛ مشهد: نشر تلنگر، ‏‫1395؛ در یک جلد؛ ‬‬ شابک: 9786009660230؛ موضوع: اولویتهای غذایی از نویسندگان ایالات متحده آمریکا - سده 21 م

در این کتاب، «پولان» سرراست به سراغِ این پرسش می‌روند، که ما چه چیزی باید بخوریم. انسان (همانند سایر همه‌ چیز خواران) به عنوان یک همه‌ چیز خوار، که عمدتاً گزینشی موادِ غذایی را مصرف نمی‌کند، با طیف گسترده‌ ای از گزینشهای غذایی روبروست، و همین امکان گزینش است، که تصمیم گیری را برای او تبدیل به یک معضل می‌کند. «پولان» نشان می‌دهد، که پیش از به میدان آمدنِ فناوری‌های امروزیِ نگهداری و تبدیل غذا، این مشکل تا حد بسیاری - عمدتاً از راه نفوذ فرهنگی - حل شده بود. اما فناوری‌های مدرن، از راه در دسترس قرار دادنِ غذاهایی که تا پیش از این، محدود به فصل یا منطقه ی معینی بود، رابطه ی بین مواد غذایی و جامعه، که زمانی توسط فرهنگ تنظیم می‌شد، اکنون دچار سردرگمی ست. برای یادگیریِ بیشتر در موردِ این گزینشها، «پولان» به پیگیری هر یک از زنجیره‌ های غذایی می‌پردازند، که ما را زنده نگاه داشته است: غذای صنعتی، غذای ارگانیگ، و غذایی که برای خود گردآوری می‌کنیم. «پولان» این داستان را از آغازِ فرآوری این مواد غذایی، تا محصولِ نهایی دنبال می‌کند، و در این بین نقدی نیز از شیوهٔ تغذیه ی آمریکایی به دست می‌دهد. نقل نمونه متن از کتاب: «همانند اکثر دیگر موجودات خون‌گرم، انسان طوری تکامل یافته تا مواد غذایی پر انرژی را ترجیح دهد، این موضوع در علاقه‌ ی ما به چیزهای شیرین قابل مشاهده است و اکثر پستانداران نیز در این ویژگی با ما مشترکند. ما تکامل یافته‌ ایم تا مزه‌ ی قند و چربی (هم از نظر بافت و هم از نظر مزه) را ترجیح دهیم زیرا قندها و چربی‌ها دارای بیشترین انرژی در ازای هر لقمه هستند. اما نکته اینجاست که در طبیعت- یعنی در مواد غذایی کامل- ما به ندرت با این حجم از قند و چربی که امروز در غذاهای فرآوری‌شده چپانده می‌شود رویارو می‌شویم: شما در هیچ‌ کجا میوه‌ ای پیدا نمی‌کنید که به اندازه‌ ی نوشابه فروکتوز داشته باشد، یا تکه‌ گوشتی از یک حیوان که به اندازه‌ ی یک ناگت مرغ چربی داشته باشد.» حالا می‌توان فهمید چرا مواد غذایی فرآوری‌ شده قادر است به این خوبی مردم را به خوردن مقدار هرچه بیشتر ترغیب کنند. «..تحقیقات انجام‌ شده بر روی جانوران این موضوع را به خوبی نشان داده است: وقتی به موش‌های صحرایی محلول‌هایی از ساکروز(شکر) خالص یا چربی خالصِ خوک ارائه می‌شد- یعنی چیزهایی که به ندرت در طبیعت به این شکل یافت می‌شوند – آن‌ها آنقدر به خوردن ادامه می‌دادند که بیمار می‌شدند…» حال انسان را در برابر فست‌ فودهای فراوان تصور کنید: «…شاید فکر کنید مردم به محض اینکه احساس سیری می‌کردند دست از خوردن و نوشیدن این وعده‌ های غذایی غول‌آسا می‌کشیدند. اما معلوم شد گرسنگی به این شکل عمل نمی‌کند. محققان نشان داده‌ اند آدم‌ها و حیوانات زمانی که با وعده‌ های بزرگ غذایی روبرو می‌شوند تا سی درصد بیشتر از مواقع دیگر غذا میخورند از قرار معلوم، اشتهای انسان به شکل تعجب‌ برانگیزی انعطاف پذیر است، و این موضوع از نظر تکاملی به خوبی قابل‌ فهم است: زیرا این برای نیاکان شکارچی-گردآورنده‌ ی ما واجب بوده تا هرجا که امکانش فراهم می‌آمده زیاد بخورند و به این شکل، برای مواجهه با قحطی‌های آینده مقداری انرژی در قالب چربی ذخیره کنند…»؛‬ پایان نقل. ا. شربیانی

Pollan's book is not just a fascinating look at the modern state and evolution of our industrial food complex; it's not merely an anthropological investigation of the history of eating and cultural rituals; it's more than a scientific discourse of the biological nature of corn, small farm ecosystems, and fungi -- it's also, surprisingly, a page turner. When I was finished, I wanted the book to be twice as long.

The book is also not (as many people seem to think) a political screed or manifesto -- Pollan isn't necessarily telling everyone to stop eating industrial food and switch to local, small farm food, as he acknowledges how impractical such a course of action actually is. Rather, he investigates our relationships with food, both personal and societal, scientific and ethical. He does find the industrial complex distasteful and disturbing and the small, sustainable farm he visits ideal but (and perhaps this is the choir appreciating the sermon) those conclusions seem inescapable.

This book didn't change any of my ideas about eating, as I already try to eat locally and avoid processed food, but I learned a lot about the nature of food, from how terrifyingly omnipresent corn is to the amazingly complex ecosystem of a farm. It's one of those books that you constantly put down so you can turn to someone and say "Oh my god, did you know that . . . "