As if I needed any more additions to my “to be read” list, I recently came across this article in the New York Times. It’s about a book with the somewhat threatening title, “1,001 Books You Must Read Before You Die.” Great. My own TBR list is probably already over 1,000, I don’t need anyone else telling me what to read. In case you’re wondering, I looked through the entire list, and I have read exactly 46 of these supposedly essential novels. (The list is all fiction, which puts me at a disadvantage, since I read about 50/50 fiction/non-fiction.)
There are several books that overlap with my own list, and some more that I should probably read some day (I really do need to read more Haruki Murakami). But I do not foresee myself attempting to meet this book’s challenge. I have even accepted that I’m not going to read all of the books on my own list. Speaking of which, I should get back to one of the three books I’m reading now….
Monday, May 26, 2008
Sunday, May 11, 2008
"Kaaterskill Falls"
“Kaaterskill Falls,” by Allegra Goodman, is a book that draws you in very gently. The story follows a group of Orthodox Jewish families who spend summers in Kaaterskill Falls, somewhere in upstate New York. There is not a lot of action, and I didn’t think I was all that into the story, but then about halfway through I realized that I really cared what happened to these characters. I especially liked Elizabeth, a young, devout mother of five daughters who decides that she wants something more than the very traditional life she has always lived.
I picked up this book in a used bookstore a couple of years ago, after reading another of Goodman’s novels, “Intuition.” That was another gently unfolding story, with a very different setting—a high-powered cancer research institute in Cambridge, Mass. Part of the reason I liked that one so much is that I have worked in similar places, and the story and characters rang true. I wasn’t sure I would like “Kaaterskill Falls” as much as that one, but it turns out Goodman is such a good writer that she can make you care about all kinds of characters. If you go into it expecting a beautifully described slice of life, rather than an action-packed story, you will not be disappointed.
I picked up this book in a used bookstore a couple of years ago, after reading another of Goodman’s novels, “Intuition.” That was another gently unfolding story, with a very different setting—a high-powered cancer research institute in Cambridge, Mass. Part of the reason I liked that one so much is that I have worked in similar places, and the story and characters rang true. I wasn’t sure I would like “Kaaterskill Falls” as much as that one, but it turns out Goodman is such a good writer that she can make you care about all kinds of characters. If you go into it expecting a beautifully described slice of life, rather than an action-packed story, you will not be disappointed.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
"The Omnivore's Dilemma"
When the Atkins diet became so popular, I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to give up an entire food group. (Especially BREAD, which is by far my favorite food group.) Michael Pollan, author of “The Omnivore’s Dilemma,” thinks he has the answer for why Americans are so susceptible to fad diets.
The problem, he says, is that America has never had a stable national cuisine. Our traditions are so skimpy that any crackpot with a new diet plan can win legions of converts (and this started long before Atkins—remember the grapefruit diet?).
While other cultures choose their food based on taste and tradition, Americans rely on “experts” to tell them what foods are “good” or “bad.” This only feeds the national anxiety (the omnivore’s dilemma) over what to eat. When we can eat anything we want, it’s that much harder to figure out what we actually SHOULD eat.
Industrial food has seized on this anxiety and created all sorts of processed food products that supposedly add value to our diets, but really appear to just increase Big Food’s profits, at the expense of our health. Because we don’t know what real food is supposed to be, we’ll eat anything. We forget that tasteless chicken pieces breaded and fried in a variety of corn products is NOT FOOD.
In his book, Pollan traces the history of four meals — industrial (fast food), industrial organic (Whole Foods products), pastoral (from a small local farm), and a meal in which everything was hunted or gathered by the author.
It turns out that industrial food is based, to a rather shocking degree, on corn products. Not just high fructose corn syrup, but all sorts of other starches, oils, etc. Plus, most industrially raised livestock are fed on corn, a diet that cows and chickens are not designed to eat, which is why cattle must also be fed so many antibiotics. Between the antibiotics, the pesticides, chemical fertilizers, and petroleum needed to transport all this food to and from various processing facilities, it sounds like a completely unsustainable enterprise.
Which leaves us with what Pollan seems to think is the best way to eat – from a local farm, preferably one where you know the farmer or at least know a lot about how the farm is run. It turns out that old-fashioned agricultural principles like crop rotation and pasturing animals rather than force feeding them corn were actually pretty good ideas, in terms of quality of food produced and environmental health.
Reading this book made me very glad that I am a vegetarian — just think how much better off the world would be if we didn’t devote so much land to growing corn to feed livestock. Instead, farmers could grow food for people… and maybe we wouldn’t have skyrocketing food prices and food riots. Just a thought.
The problem, he says, is that America has never had a stable national cuisine. Our traditions are so skimpy that any crackpot with a new diet plan can win legions of converts (and this started long before Atkins—remember the grapefruit diet?).
While other cultures choose their food based on taste and tradition, Americans rely on “experts” to tell them what foods are “good” or “bad.” This only feeds the national anxiety (the omnivore’s dilemma) over what to eat. When we can eat anything we want, it’s that much harder to figure out what we actually SHOULD eat.
Industrial food has seized on this anxiety and created all sorts of processed food products that supposedly add value to our diets, but really appear to just increase Big Food’s profits, at the expense of our health. Because we don’t know what real food is supposed to be, we’ll eat anything. We forget that tasteless chicken pieces breaded and fried in a variety of corn products is NOT FOOD.
In his book, Pollan traces the history of four meals — industrial (fast food), industrial organic (Whole Foods products), pastoral (from a small local farm), and a meal in which everything was hunted or gathered by the author.
It turns out that industrial food is based, to a rather shocking degree, on corn products. Not just high fructose corn syrup, but all sorts of other starches, oils, etc. Plus, most industrially raised livestock are fed on corn, a diet that cows and chickens are not designed to eat, which is why cattle must also be fed so many antibiotics. Between the antibiotics, the pesticides, chemical fertilizers, and petroleum needed to transport all this food to and from various processing facilities, it sounds like a completely unsustainable enterprise.
Which leaves us with what Pollan seems to think is the best way to eat – from a local farm, preferably one where you know the farmer or at least know a lot about how the farm is run. It turns out that old-fashioned agricultural principles like crop rotation and pasturing animals rather than force feeding them corn were actually pretty good ideas, in terms of quality of food produced and environmental health.
Reading this book made me very glad that I am a vegetarian — just think how much better off the world would be if we didn’t devote so much land to growing corn to feed livestock. Instead, farmers could grow food for people… and maybe we wouldn’t have skyrocketing food prices and food riots. Just a thought.
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