Book review of Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver

The term "tree-hugger" has always carried a somewhat negative connotation for me--it brings to mind hippies living in tents or rallies to "save the spotted turtle!"  Forgive me if you are yourself a tree-hugger, but there you have it.  So I assumed that was what I was in for when our book club decided to read this.  Plus it's non-fiction, not my favorite category . . . but I was willing (reluctantly) to have a go--for Barbara Kingsolver's sake, since I loved her fascinating book, The Poisonwood Bible.

Would it be too trite to say this book changed my life?  Okay, maybe not quite that, but it has changed my thinking about food--probably forever, and I think for the better.  In the author's own words, here is the gist of the book:

"At its heart, a genuine food culture is an affinity between people and the land that feeds them.  Step one, probably, is to live on the land that feeds them, or at least on the same continent, ideally the same region.  Step two is to be able to countenance the ideas of 'food' and 'dirt' in the same sentence, and three is to start poking into one's supply chain and learn where things are coming from.  In the spirit of this adventure, our family set out to find ourselves a real American culture of food, or at least the piece of it that worked for us, and to describe it for anyone who might be looking for something similar.  This book tells the story of what we learned, or didn't; what we ate, or couldn't; and how our family was changed by one year of deliberately eating food produced in the same place where we worked, loved our neighbors, drank the water, and breathed the air.  It's not at all necessary to live on a food-producing farm to participate in this culture.  But it is necessary to know such farms exist, understand something about what they do, and consider oneself basically in their court.  This book is about those things." p. 20

Barbara Kingsolver literally takes you home with her--home to her family's little farm in Virginia, where she gives you a glimpse of their life during each month of this "locavore" (eating local & homegrown foods) experiment.  But she doesn't stop there.  She opens your eyes about the real dangers of the processed, industrial foods we are eating every day.  That is all fine and good, but what I loved the most was her emphasis on connecting with your family--on making mealtime a gathering time--both in eating and in meal preparation.  It rings true to me and reminds me of what Sister Julie Beck said recently about our families:

"Live in your home so that you’re brilliant in the basics, so that you’re intentional about your roles and responsibilities in the family. Think in terms of precision not perfection. If you have your goals and you are precise in how you go about them in your homes, youth will learn from you. They will learn that you pray, study the scriptures together, have family home evening, make a priority of mealtimes, and speak respectfully of your marriage partner. Then from your example the rising generation will gain great hope." (Julie B. Beck, "Teaching the Doctrine of the Family," Ensign, Mar. 2011, emphasis added)

Kingsolver speaks of the joys of holidays because of the food--and how that's not a bad thing, contrary to the popular dieting fads of today:

". . . [M]ost of America's excess pounds were not gained on national holidays.  After a certain age we can't make a habit of pie, certainly, but it's a soul-killing dogma that says we have to snub it even on Thanksgiving. . . . Planning complex, beautiful meals and investing one's heart and time in their preparation is the opposite of self-indulgence.  Kitchen-based family gatherings are process-oriented, cooperative, and in the best of worlds, nourishing and soulful.  A lot of calories get used up before anyone sits down to consume.  But more importantly, a lot of talk happens first, news exchanged, secrets revealed across generations, paths cleared with a touch on the arm.  I have given and received some of my life's most important hugs with those big oven-mitt potholders on both hands." p. 288

From a literary standpoint, Barbara Kingsolver has such a way with words!  She is like unto Alexander McCall Smith--you find that when you end one of her chapters, she has somehow come full-circle with its introduction. You'll have to give the book a try to see what I mean.  And if you'd rather just browse through her delicious recipes, check out the book's website.  Overall, I walked away from Animal, Vegetable, Miracle with renewed desire to make our family mealtime something special and purposeful.