The Omnivore's Dilemma - Michael Pollan [3]
CORN
ONE The Plant: Corn’s Conquest
TWO The Farm
THREE The Elevator
FOUR The Feedlot: Making Meat
FIVE The Processing Plant: Making Complex Foods
SIX The Consumer: A Republic of Fat
SEVEN The Meal: Fast Food
II PASTORAL
GRASS
EIGHT All Flesh Is Grass
NINE Big Organic
TEN Grass: Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Pasture
ELEVEN The Animals: Practicing Complexity
TWELVE Slaughter: In a Glass Abattoir
THIRTEEN The Market: “Greetings from the Non-Barcode People”
FOURTEEN The Meal: Grass-Fed
III PERSONAL
THE FOREST
FIFTEEN The Forager
SIXTEEN The Omnivore’s Dilemma
SEVENTEEN The Ethics of Eating Animals
EIGHTEEN Hunting: The Meat
NINETEEN Gathering: The Fungi
TWENTY The Perfect Meal
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
SOURCES
INDEX
THE OMNIVORE’S DILEMMA
INTRODUCTION
OUR NATIONAL EATING DISORDER
What should we have for dinner?
This book is a long and fairly involved answer to this seemingly simple question. Along the way, it 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a culture we seem to have arrived at a place where whatever native wisdom we may once have possessed about eating has been replaced by confusion and anxiety. Somehow this most elemental of activities—figuring out what to eat—has come to require a remarkable amount of expert help. 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?
For me the absurdity of the situation became inescapable in the fall of 2002, when one of the most ancient and venerable staples of human life abruptly disappeared from the American dinner table. I’m talking of course about bread. Virtually overnight, Americans changed the way they eat. A collective spasm of what can only be described as carbophobia seized the country, supplanting an era of national lipophobia dating to the Carter administration. That was when, in 1977, a Senate committee had issued a set of “dietary goals” warning beef-loving Americans to lay off the red meat. And so we dutifully had done, until now.
What set off the sea change? It appears to have been a perfect media storm of diet books, scientific studies, and one timely magazine article. The new diet books, many of them inspired by the formerly discredited Dr. Robert C. Atkins, brought Americans the welcome news that they could eat more meat and lose weight just so long as they laid off the bread and pasta. These high-protein, low-carb diets found support in a handful of new epidemiological studies suggesting that the nutritional orthodoxy that had held sway in America since the 1970s might be wrong. It was not, as official opinion claimed, fat that made us fat, but the carbohydrates we’d been eating precisely in order to stay slim. So conditions were ripe for a swing of the dietary pendulum when, in the summer of 2002, the New York Times Magazine published a cover story on the new research entitled “What if Fat Doesn’t Make You Fat?” Within months, supermarket shelves were restocked and restaurant menus rewritten to reflect the new nutritional wisdom. The blamelessness of steak restored, two of the most wholesome and uncontroversial foods known to man—bread and pasta—acquired a moral stain that promptly bankrupted dozens of bakeries and noodle firms and ruined an untold number of perfectly good meals.
So violent a change in a culture’s eating habits is surely the sign of a national eating disorder. Certainly it would never have happened in a culture in possession of deeply rooted traditions surrounding food and eating. But then, such a culture would not feel the need for its most august legislative body to ever deliberate the nation’s “dietary goals”—or, for that matter, to wage political battle every few years over the precise design of an official government graphic called the “food pyramid.” A country with a stable culture of food would not shell out millions for the quackery (or common sense) of a new diet book every January. It would not be susceptible to the pendulum swings of food