The issue of food justice is extremely relevant for me at the moment as I’m sure it is for all of us. Considering my internship is at a farmers’ market, Agyeman had me questioning the very system I’m promoting. The Gray Street Farmers’ Market (where I’m interning) accepts SNAP benefits and is trying to establish a system that will accept WIC vouchers as well. The goal of the market is to reach out to those that live in surrounding, low-income neighborhoods which are considered “food deserts” and hopes to make fresh produce more accessible. We’re also trying to find an economically sustainable way to apply “double dollars” for those who receive government assistance which would match the amount of money spent on fresh produce. Although it does promote capitalist theory, I thought of the local food movement and the acknowledgement of food deserts as a step in the right direction as Agyeman acknowledges when he says: “these entities’ work, especially those advocating for food as a public good and right, is necessary in order to bring about this change in food provisioning” (218). While Agyeman acknowledges this, he also says: “No matter how local or healthy, an FJ campaign, if it in any significant way relies upon the charity of “big food” or re-creates conventional exchange-value markets that fetishize profit and commodification of food, then the movement will encounter a parallel symptom-focused existence” (217). This forced me to think about all the social justice programs I have encountered in the past that I thought of as crafty rather than compliant, such as the “Food For All” volunteer-run dinner on Bar Harbor that gleans unsellable food from the local Hanaford and provides a meal for everyone in the community in an attempt to minimize waste, feed the hungry and build community bonds.

Moving the Field of Food Justice Forward brought up a lot of questions for me. It provided an interesting perspective. The food “movement [is] not only guided by reactions to unequal access to food but also interested in addressing the causes of unequal access to food, which are tied up in broader structures and political–economic forces” (216). I consider food systems to be such an interesting issue because it is tied up in all of these complicated social/environmental/political issues. It is both the root and the fruit on a tree of dysfunction. Agyeman’s perspective offers a complex knot of issues which calls for a rewiring of food philosophy.

After reading this article, I was reminded of a book I read last term called Wandering God by Morris Berman. The book traces the roots of spirituality and philosophy throughout the years, highlighting both the pros and cons of a nomadic lifestyle and the birth of agrarian thought and investment in land. Though all types of child-rearing practices and religious beliefs have their benefits, they are all essentially the same in the sense that they are external systems/habits that become irrelevant without thoughtful intent. The conclusion was the most fascinating for me because Berman wrapped around to present day by noting that we, as humans, are addicted to the paradigm-shift. We are constantly looking for “better” systems that fix our tired, dysfunctional patterns of thought, while our gleaming solutions are simply reincarnations of our old ones. This can be applied to mainstreaming of the local food movement, which a new generation of consumers is attempting to effect change while perpetuating old systems. Can positive changes be made to the current system to make it just? Can the market economy be salvaged? How do we create a new system without falling victim to another fruitless paradigm shift? I’m all for a more ecological and all-inclusive solution, but I’m curious how it will all play out.

One of my favorite quotes is: “Tell me what you eat and I’ll tell you who you are” – Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin. I like it because it says something beyond the classic “you are what you eat” which Schlosser chooses to conclude the introduction of Fast Food Nation. Despite the fact that they are both coming to the same point, I’m faced with the question of identity in the latter rather than being forced to picture myself as a giant donut.

In fall term of this past year, I attended a talk by food philosopher and activist Piper Dumont. Although she made significant remarks about how cuisine can define culture, she also delved into more personal areas such as gender, pulling up a blog entirely dedicated to photo’s of “women laughing alone with salad” which can be found at womenlaughingalonewithsalad.tumblr.com. Although this is ridiculous, I think it speaks to the subconscious of the average American mind. Stock photos reveal an interesting perspective of the norm/ideal. In this case, the norm is a thin woman eating a “healthy” and “feminine” meal.

On another note, these photos represent American logic. It is common knowledge that vegetables are “good” foods, they have plenty of vitamins and fiber that are necessary for a healthy, high-functioning body. However, the salads in these photos are typically a small bowl of dry spinach and bell peppers, maybe a tomato or two. They represent what we think “healthy” is and the confusion around what is “healthy” and what is “unhealthy”. We are “good” when we only eat celery all day and “bad” when we eat french fries. We, as a society, are caught between two different worlds: one that tells us to eat satisfying yet fatty, chemical-ridden foods such as McDonalds, and one that tells us to be thin and fit and eat fewer calories. This “lack of a steadying culture of food leaves us especially vulnerable to the food scientist”  (Pollan 5).

These ideals are embedded in American lifestyle. As Schlosser says in Fast Food Nation: “Hundreds of millions of people buy fast food every day without giving it much though…They rarely consider where this food came from, how it was made, what it is doing to the community around them.” The overwhelming amount of choices in todays supermarkets makes convenience food look especially appetizing. As Pollan points out in The Omnivore’s Dilemma, “good” and “bad” become much more complicated in a culture like this one, and not thinking about what too eat (like the koala’s) becomes a comfortable habit.

We are caught between “the logic of nature and the logic of human industry” (Pollan). In this way, “you are what you eat” becomes even more important. Since American culture is one that often contradicts itself, it’s interesting to see what active choices we all make (local, organic, meat, no meat, fair trade) when we actually think about what we’re eating.

When reading Michael Pollan’s rules in In Defense of Food, it raised a lot of questions for me. I’d actually read this piece several times, but the one rule that got me thinking about consumer knowledge was the one about health claims. The classic reference to low-fat or fat free products comes to mind. But his reference to margarine lead me to consider trendier foods such as coconut oil or quinoa. I understand the difference between these foods and the lack of scientific proof behind the margarine claim of the 50’s but they too have been glorified and praised in the media as well as celebrities who cite their health benefits. They can be hyped up to mythical proportions, but who is the real authority on these matters? When these foods are trending, it can be difficult to find any hard hitting scientific evidence from a reliable source, they start popping up in tons of food blogs and online recipes. Of course, Pollan insists that consumers use common sense when it comes to buying food, but is that all there is to nutrition education? Particularly in this day and age when information is swarming: what is good information and in what context is this information true? These foods also have a lot to do with a topic that Pollan discusses later which is cultural food and how the context of these foods is important.

On another note, I was at the store the other day picking up some snacks for work. I wasn’t thinking and grabbed a container of generic looking peanuts at random. It wasn’t until this morning that I realized there were a number of other ingredients listed on the back, including “corn syrup solids”, which had also been listed on the back of the non-dairy creamer I was inspecting at work this morning. This goes back to Pollan’s policy on the extensive/unpronounceable ingredient list, but I really just wanted to highlight the absurdity and complication that has been brought to such a simple food. I prefer it if I did not have to read on the back of my legumes container: “may contain milk”.  This experience, however, did make me think about how these seemingly extraneous ingredients found their way into my grocery bag. As Petrini talking about in Slow Food Nation, flavor and manipulation of “natural” foods in their original form can be very telling of the current cultural climate. As of now, a good portion of the U.S. population is in favor of “artificial” that trumps all other responsibilities. I wonder where we began to cross the line from “natural” into “artificial” flavor (considering that everything is essentially natural). But mostly I’m wondering if the MSG on my peanuts is really necessary.