Life is
like pruning a tree
Matt Ryan, Rodale Institute Agroecologist
A friend of mine sent me a copy of Good
Wood: Growth, Loss, And Renewal (Oregon State University Press,
2005) as a gift after defending my master’s thesis this past
spring. On the inside flap it reads: “Matt, I have found this
short read to be inspirational and thought provoking. I glance at
it now and again to keep myself centered on the right path. I hope
you may find it useful during those times when you, like all of
us, struggle to find meaning in your work.” After reading
through this collection of essays, I couldn’t agree more with
my friend.
The author, Steve Radosevich, PhD, articulately describes the important
influences on his own life, through various tales of growth, loss
and renewal. He reflects on tough decisions people face in life
and the legacy they leave behind through stories about the struggles
of farming and the mismanagement of forests. The title is gleaned
from a conversation with the author’s grandfather while learning
how to prune apple trees. Just as an orchardist chooses to remove
healthy branches from an apple tree (i.e. “good wood”),
people make choices in their life to turn down good opportunities
for the sake of a greater goal. These underlying messages are what
makes this book special and worth the read.
Eat these books
Dan Sullivan, New Farm Senior Editor
We have a culinary herb garden planted right outside our kitchen
door because we like to keep what we use most often close at hand.
For this very reason, two cookbooks have recently earned the coveted,
limited counter space between our refrigerator and stovetop. Farmer
John’s Cookbook: The Real Dirt on Vegetables (Gibbs Smith,
2006) dishes out historical and behind-the-scenes tidbits by and
about the quirky, inventive and inspiring Farmer John Peterson even
is it serves up delicious and creative recipes. Peterson, founding
farmer of Angelic Organics, one of the largest and most successful
CSA farms in the United States, was catapulted to icon status with
his poignant, self-effacing documentary The Real Dirt on Farmer
John, from which the cookbook adopts its title.
CSAs will often share, through their newsletters or websites, information
about preparing certain vegetables with which some customers might
not have familiarity. Peppered with recipes like “arugula
pesto” and “sweet-and-sour-glazed parsnips,” Farmer
John’s cookbook shares a collaborative effort between the
chefs who inhabit Angelic Organic’s farm kitchen and many
of the 1,200-plus CSA customers who enjoy a weekly box of vegetables
during the Illinois growing season. Anyone who reads this celebration
of seasonal, local food will be a better farmer and a more conscious
eater for their effort.
From
Asparagus to Zucchini: A Guide to Cooking Farm-Fresh Seasonal Produce,
Third Edition (Jones Books, 2004) comes from the Madison Area Community
Supported Agriculture Coalition, a nonprofit that’s been using
iterations of the cookbook as a fundraiser since its first printing
in 1996. The latest edition contains hundreds of new recipes by
the “growers, farm members, home cooks, and chefs passionate
about fresh food and seasonal cooking,” according to an acknowledgement
to the contributors. What we like best about this “cookbook”
at my house—besides the fact that, like Farmer John’s
cookbook, it sheds ample light on to eat locally and seasonally,
and on how doing so benefits the individual and the community—is
the way that it’s organized. Here the name says it all. Your
favorite vegetables, and perhaps some you’ve never heard of,
are laid out from A to Z, with general cooking and storage tips
followed by a handful of simple-yet-amazing recipes for each. All
this is followed by an excellent resource section.
While the meandering Farmer John’s Cookbook feels
more like a scrapbook with yummy recipes tucked in between, From
Asparagus to Zucchini—though not dry by any means—reads
more like a no-nonsense reference manual. I’d actually hate
to have to choose between the two; they’re both that good,
making for excellent kitchen companions as well as good armchair
reading.
Discover the miracle of eating locally
Laura Sayre, Rodale Institute Government Grants
Manager
I put off reading Barbara Kingsolver’s
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life (Harper Collins,
2007), I confess, because I figured I’d heard it all before.
After Michael Pollan’s Omnivore’s
Dilemma, Peter Singer’s The
Way We Eat, and Marion Nestle’s What to Eat,
what more is there to be said about how to fill our bellies? Plenty,
as it turns out. There are as many reflections on food as there
are meals to be eaten and humans to digest them. Kingsolver’s
voice—intelligent, well-informed, witty, tender, humane—is
a delicious addition to our collective instruction manual for good
eating.
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle stands in contrast to its peers
in several respects. First, it’s a family story, featuring
contributions by Kingsolver’s husband, Steven Hopp, and eldest
daughter Camille as well as episodes starring her younger daughter
(and number-one chicken keeper) Lily, age 8. Second, the book is
unique in offering a rural American’s perspective on the pleasures
and challenges of eating local. To begin their experiment, the Hoppsolvers
give up their dual-home lifestyle split between the desert Southwest
and the mountains of Appalachia and settle down permanently on their
farm in southwestern Virginia. The existential dilemmas posed by
shopping at Whole Foods do not feature prominently, probably because
the nearest Whole Foods is more than an hour’s drive away.
As a result, the story is structured not around the layout of a
supermarket but around something more fundamental: the growing season.
At its heart, this book is a gardener’s journal. For Kingsolver,
eating local means simply this: Grow as much food of your own as
you can, buy as much of the rest as possible directly from local
farmers, and get cooking (and baking, freezing, canning and root-cellaring).
As Kingsolver points out—and in fact calculates, based on
her own family’s budget and receipts— eating this way
is not expensive. Even if you grow nothing of your own, shopping
at farmers’ markets for what’s in season and putting
it by in the form of frozen basil pesto, roasted tomatoes or peach
chutney will almost certainly save you money over buying those same
products out of season at the supermarket. As a bonus, it will give
you delicious food, healthy exercise, quality time with your family
and fond memories of seasonal work and the celebrations that crown
it. Far from being a story of privation, Kingsolver reveals eating
local is about enjoying life’s pleasures to their fullest.
A book to warm your sensibilities
Paul Reed Hepperly, Rodale Institute Director
of Research
As we approach the end of the fossil-fuel era, it becomes ever
more important to reflect on what we can do individually and collectively
to leave our planet in better shape for our children and grandchildren.
Farmers can have a dramatic and positive effect on our greenhouse-gas
issues by weaning their farms off of synthetic chemicals and by
producing food for local markets. Our work here at The Rodale Institute
has shown how working with nature using biologically based no-till
planting, compost amendments and cover crops helps trap greenhouse
gases in the soil for use by crop plants. These practices can help
reverse the phenomenon of global warming while improving our natural
soil, water and air resources.
An Inconvenient Truth (Rodale, 2006), written by Al Gore, is
a tour de force of the science surrounding the issue of greenhouse
gases and climate change. Gore’s book is full of dramatic
illustrations and is written in an easy-to-understand lexicon, making
the technical information digestible for the layperson. Last year,
I gave this book to close family members and received rave reviews
for my selection. I think your friends and family will find it a
better gift than socks or underwear.
The year’s ending and the winter holiday season provides
us all with the opportunity to reflect on our goals for the new
year. An Inconvenient Truth offers an excellent launching
pad for such reflection and a shining example of how each and every
one of us can make a positive difference, right here right now,
on the planet we share.

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