Now while not all of the books I read for pleasure are about food, a good number of them are and those are the ones I'll be focusing on in this space (mostly because to review a book about the 1919 Paris Peace Conference or the First Angevin Dynasty on a blog about food would be very bizarre). So without further ado, I present the first edition of The Wannabe Chef Book Report. First on the list of books is Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals.
I must admit, I'm a bit late on reviewing this book. The Washington Post was all over this one back in April 2006 and the rest of the known world soon followed. This book became one of many rallying points for the Local Food Movement and also helped to broaden the focus of health-conscious critics beyond just fat, carbs, and sugar and to turn a critical eye towards fats, carbs, and sugars that come in over-processed, ultra-refined forms. So with all the press and all the discussion, I figured it was finally time that I read the book for myself.
As someone that was already familiar with the organic movement, the local movement, and the slow food movement, a lot of the basic concepts in the book were not new or ground-breaking for me. Processed food = bad. Natural food = good. And to be honest, I don't think a lot of people were unaware of these concepts. However, what makes The Omnivore's Dilemma unique is the detail in which Pollan examines each of the food chains he discusses and the personal way in which he engages with the books central question: "What should I eat?"
Too often, books or articles demonizing industrial food have a teachy, preachy air to them. They are full of facts and exhortations. Pollan (thankfully) eschews this method of engaging with his subject matter and instead the book becomes about his own personal attempt to understand, contextualize, and come to terms with the three different food chains he identifies: industrial, pastoral (organic/natural), and personal (local). And the best moments in the book are those times when he describes, in deeply personal detail, his own confrontation with the questions facing the modern eater.
In one chapter he explains his own personal experience slaughtering chickens and in another his feelings about hunting an animal for food. In both instances, the depth of his own personal struggle with the ethics involved makes him, and the book, extremely poignant. Another instance has him explaining how he tried to come to grips with his own feelings about the moral nature of eating meat while reading an important treatise on vegetarianism over a steak dinner and later he recounts his own mental back-and-forth on the rational behind meat-eating. It is the extremely personal portions of the book like the above examples that I found most compelling.
Finally, the end of the book provides an exhortation not to avoid industrial food and become total-local eaters who grow, hunt, and forage for our own meals but rather to become accustomed to the idea of thinking about our food. Not just what to eat but the path it traveled before arriving at our tables, the ethical implications of its production and consumption, and the meaning created by the experience of preparing and partaking in it. He does not encourage readers to never eat another industrial meal but rather to eat all meals with an understanding of them and their context.
For foodies (or anyone who thinks of eating as an intensely personal and provocative experience) this is a must-read. For anyone else, it's an interesting examination of a part of life that many take for granted.
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