Monday, June 25, 2007
The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollen. My red-headed, fair-skinned, French-speaking friend whose husband was recently transferred to Miami has been reading a lot of books lately... most recently Michael Pollen's, The Omnivore's Dilemma. Just a few chapters into the book, the concept of supermarket steak is already ruined. She curses that I ever recommended the book because now she'll either end up living on lettuce or having quadrupled her food bill in the hope of finding grazed beef.
I don't think it was actually I who suggested she read this book but maybe it was...hey, all these toxins coursing through my body from all of the garbage I've eaten in my youth prior to anyone knowing that it would one day short-circuit my brain neurons has made me forget... like Teflon... have you ever thought about the number of Teflon pan souvenirs that are now forever lodged in cancer-receptive parts of our bodies? Or how about all of those potato/apple peels our mothers insisted yielded the most vitamins but turns out had the highest concentration of all the legal/illegal shit sprayed on them to ward off bugs/blights/ and other crop-hindering quotas.
After I read Fast Food Nation, My Year of Meat, and an array of Michael Pollen books/articles, I've taken on a kind of diametrically opposed philosophy of 1) I spend a fortune at Whole Food Market in the 'organic' section (plus WFM has the best chocolate turtles on the planet), and 2) take it all with a grain of organic salt BECAUSE -- as my good Uncle Frank from Brooklyn used to say: "Anna.... none of us is getting out of this world alive...." Add on my anti-theistic outlook on life (it's all about disintegrating into toxin-enriched dust baby) and I figure I can eat all the corn-fed, hormone infused cow I want. Of course I am still looking for the little-pink-pill that will put me out of my artery-clogged, toxin disabled misery when I chose -- as opposed to some illiterate nursing care attendant feeding me mashed peas in my wheel chair.
I don't think it was actually I who suggested she read this book but maybe it was...hey, all these toxins coursing through my body from all of the garbage I've eaten in my youth prior to anyone knowing that it would one day short-circuit my brain neurons has made me forget... like Teflon... have you ever thought about the number of Teflon pan souvenirs that are now forever lodged in cancer-receptive parts of our bodies? Or how about all of those potato/apple peels our mothers insisted yielded the most vitamins but turns out had the highest concentration of all the legal/illegal shit sprayed on them to ward off bugs/blights/ and other crop-hindering quotas.
After I read Fast Food Nation, My Year of Meat, and an array of Michael Pollen books/articles, I've taken on a kind of diametrically opposed philosophy of 1) I spend a fortune at Whole Food Market in the 'organic' section (plus WFM has the best chocolate turtles on the planet), and 2) take it all with a grain of organic salt BECAUSE -- as my good Uncle Frank from Brooklyn used to say: "Anna.... none of us is getting out of this world alive...." Add on my anti-theistic outlook on life (it's all about disintegrating into toxin-enriched dust baby) and I figure I can eat all the corn-fed, hormone infused cow I want. Of course I am still looking for the little-pink-pill that will put me out of my artery-clogged, toxin disabled misery when I chose -- as opposed to some illiterate nursing care attendant feeding me mashed peas in my wheel chair.
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