Omnivore's Dilemma

My sister recently sent me the book of the above title. It is quite well-written and enjoyable. The light it shines on the industrial farming practices in America is uncomfortable illuminating. A recommended read.

It does, however, tend to make any alternative seem wildly unrealistic. The lengthy description of the exceptional Polyface Farm in Virginia (yes, my home state) and the author's own attempts at being a hunter-gatherer are described as thoroughly unorthodox. In the end, as a US urbanite, the author states he is willing to stipulate that an industrial meal and a naturally gathered meal are "equally unreal and equally unsustainable". He also describes his hunted/gathered meal as "physically, intellectually, and emotionally costly."

From the perspective of someone who has not lived a rural lifestyle on a more human scale I guess that would be the logical conclusion. Yet there are many parts of the world where a more connected food culture remains. Even in the US, it was not so long ago that such a food chain was much more mainstream.

I think of my island mother-in-law, who rarely eats anything sourced more than a kilometer from her residence. (But also of my nieces, for whom she buys processed foods when they visit from the mainland of Honshu.) The staples on Oki are rice and seafood. Until last year, my mother-in-law grew all of the rice for herself, our family and my wife's two siblings and their families. While I am sure there were some external inputs in the form of fertilizers, she raised the seedlings in the greenhouse out back and watched over the plants growing in the sea breezes during the summer.

In addition, she has always had a chaotic, yet wildly productive garden. Imagine the Japanese farmers in California who dismayed the locals with their ability to achieve much higher yields. Even now, we receive kiwis, onions, potatoes and shiitake regularly. Earlier there were chickens and ukoke (cornish hens??). The ukoke eggs are supposed to be particularly nutritous and so would be fed to my infant daughter when she visited.

Besides the agriculture, Oki has a magnificent fishery. While my father-in-law was a carpenter by trade, everyone engages in a little of everything in the countryside. On visits, we would fish off the point and, with my brother-in-law, dive for abalone and sazae. When my father-in-law tired of chickens, he gave away the rooster and was given a giant abalone in return. At peak times, the harvesting of seaweed is also a big local industry. At times my mother-in-law helps and so the care packages often include bags of arame she has received in turn.

A typical meal for her would include vegetables from the garden, soup with flying fish flakes as the base ingredient and some sashimi bought from the truck of the local fishing cooperative down the hill. As well as the rice of course. In the spring, there are fresh bamboo shoots from the grove down by the family cemetery and other plants such as fuki and warabi.

With no particular claim to virtue, I have been one of the great beneficiaries. You often see commentary on what Japan will do with its aging population. The much more important question, from my perspective, is what Japan will do without its aging population.