As the author herself describes it, “This is the story of a year in which we made every attempt to feed ourselves animals and vegetables whose provenance we really knew…and of how our family was changed by our first year of deliberately eating food produced from the same place where we worked, went to school, loved our neighbors, drank the water, and breathed the air.”
Sounds like a nice little memoir, but this book is much more than just their family’s story of eating nothing but local, organic food. It’s also a well-researched defense for this way of life, and I have to say, I’m sold. Give me a few acres of land and a pitchfork and I’ll learn to garden & farm to my heart’s content.
OK, maybe I won’t go that far. But seriously, this book has had an enormous impact on me. It has hit me from all sides: logically, emotionally, medically, ethically, and even spiritually. It is impossible for me to eat the same way – or even shop the same way – now that I’ve read this book.
Already I’ve made changes. If there’s an organic option at the grocery store, I’m choosing it. In fact, I’ve started frequenting farmer’s markets and all-organic stores like Georgia’s Market. Sometimes it’s really hard to do, because the price difference is noticeable, but to buy conventional food now would require me to actively ignore what I know to be true, and I just can’t do that. I’m not going to get into it here, because I couldn’t even scratch the surface – and that’s what the book’s for.
I want to make even more changes eventually. I signed up for a class to learn how to make my own cheese and dairy products at home, for example. And I want to learn how to garden, although I didn’t know the first thing about it before reading this book. I couldn’t have even told you what fruits or vegetables are in season when, except that watermelons are for summer and pumpkins are for fall. I have a backyard, and I don’t want to use it just as a giant toilet for my dogs. I want to grow things, and eat them.
Does this sound boring? It’s not. If you’ve ever read anything by Barbara Kingsolver you know that she writes beautifully, and this holds true for nonfiction. (Incidentally, if you’ve never read The Poisonwood Bible do so as soon as you can. You’re welcome.) I was captivated from beginning to end, and never felt the words coming across were judgmental or snobbish.
I may not ever like vegetables as much as the next girl, but I do plan on retasting some of the ones I previously rejected: asparagus, for one. And I may not ever be able to tell the difference between a Yukon Gold and an All-Blue potato, but I do believe I can make a difference with the way I eat.
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