Eating with the fullest pleasure is perhaps the profoundest enactment of our connection with the world. In this pleasure we experience and celebrate our dependence and our gratitude, for we are living from mystery, from creatures we did not make and powers we cannot comprehend.      —Wendell Berry

 

As I bike through the lush green hills of the Italian countryside from a trip to the local market, I go over the dish I plan to make for dinner tonight. A beautiful sauce made with fresh tomatoes grown in the rich soil near Mt. Vesuvius, spread on top of a homemade pizza dough made with locally milled flour, and topped with fresh cow’s milk mozzarella (fior di latte), and basil from my own herb garden. My pizza will, of course, be baked in a wood-fired oven, which gives the crust a smoky flavor and allows the dough to cook quickly enough so that it still stays soft and light. Once I’m done cooking, I sit outside, enjoying the evening breeze as the sun sets, a glass of lemonade in hand and fresh pie ready to be eaten in front of me. Ah, what a dream!

And a dream it is. Before I can take a bite of my perfectly crafted pizza, shouts from the neighboring baseball field snap me out of my musings, and I instead find myself in my dimly lit and stuffy MIT dorm room, facing notebooks with physics scribblings all over and a half-eaten burger from the Simmons dining hall for the third day in a row. With a sigh, I turn back to my computer and check the date, counting down the days until winter break, when I can go back home and cook for myself again.

During the past two and a half months at college, I have often felt like something was missing in my everyday life, but it wasn’t until I read Wendell Berry’s essay “The Pleasure of Eating” (1990) that I actually realized what it was. Berry talks about the relationship between food and pleasure, and how in recent years, the rise of industrialized food production has transformed American diets and reduced the pleasure we obtain from eating as we are no longer connected to the sources of our food (Berry 145–47). He claims that American consumers have fallen victim to the food industry’s ploys to market the ease of their industrial food and no longer care about what ingredients are in their food and where they come from, and have forgotten that “eating is an agricultural act” (Berry 146–147). However, reflecting on my own experiences, I don’t entirely believe that it is the food industry or the consumers’ fault for such circumstances in either the present day or in 1990, when Berry wrote this essay. I’m also not quite sure if he’s right to claim that learning more about the origins of our food will miraculously bring us more pleasure.

To touch on that last point, it is important to first understand that the experience of pleasure is subjective and qualitative. Each person in this country and on this planet may find pleasure through different means, and different individuals will experience different levels of pleasure from a certain activity. I know that besides cooking, reading often brings me the most pleasure. However, most people I know would rather do anything else but read, and instead find pleasure binging the latest hit Netflix series, an activity that puts me to sleep within five minutes. Due to this defining trait of human individuality, I don’t really think it’s fair of Berry to say that everyone will find pleasure through being more mindful of their food, because not everyone will be as passionate about food and agriculture as he, a farmer, is. Without passion and interest, it’s unlikely that one will find pleasure.

And for those who do find pleasure in cooking their own food as I do, there is still a limit to the extent that people are willing to go to do so because of the many steps that are often overlooked when it comes to cooking. For example, to make a simple pasta dinner completely from scratch, you would have to go to the grocery store to get fresh tomatoes, onions, etc., wash and chop the vegetables, cook them, let the sauce simmer for a few hours, prepare a dough for the pasta, let the dough rest, repeatedly shape it, and then put it all together. After your meal is finally cooked and you eat it, you’re left with the aftermath of your culinary ventures, and will have to spend another hour or so washing each dish, including possibly a pasta maker with lots of nooks and crannies.

Even before I started college, I don’t think I ever would have had the time to take on such tasks for a simple dinner on a school night, and I can’t imagine that most Americans would either, between their full-time jobs, taking care of their families, and other responsibilities. As Ellen Ullman, who used to work in Silicon Valley, succinctly puts it in her essay, “Dining with Robots,” for most people, “it’s just easier to grab a sauce out of a jar,” and I couldn’t agree more (Ullman 251). Not only can you buy multiple jars of sauce and boxes of pasta on any trip to the grocery store and keep them in your pantry for months until you are ready to use them, but you will also only need to wash two to three dishes max and can have dinner ready within half an hour. For people who don’t even have half an hour to spare, a frozen or canned pasta meal can be microwaved and ready to eat in the five minutes it takes them to change out of their work clothes.

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I still remember packing my stuff for college, and the hours my mom and I must have spent preparing spices like turmeric and toasted cumin, and trying to decide which pots and pans I should bring for all the times I would be cooking. Looking back, I think we both got a bit carried away, and I know that I should have expected to be busy – after all, this is MIT. However, I really didn’t think that my only cooking in two and a half months would be to make ramen twice. Much as I lament the moments in the kitchen back home making enchiladas, paneer butter masala, falafels, and more, I know that under my current circumstances, trying to follow Wendell Berry’s propositions of growing my own food and cooking it (Berry 149–50) would most definitely not be possible, simply because I don’t have as much free time as I used to. The few moments I do have free, I would much rather use to take a break, like by trying to sleep or doing something that doesn’t require the physical effort cooking inevitably does, like reading or watching YouTube.

On top of convenience, most people choose to consume fast food and prepared meals frequently because these foods are often much cheaper, and not everyone has the luxury of being able to afford fresh and imported ingredients. These industrial foods allow people to save money to use on other necessities, such as rent, electricity, transportation, and tuition. While Berry may argue that food is also a necessity, I would counter that the other bills will not change because one doesn’t have a lot of money. One’s food bill, on the other hand, can be cut down significantly based on how they change their eating habits. I still remember watching Food, Inc. (2008), a documentary exposing the American food industry, back in my seventh-grade science class; one family featured in the film depended on fast food because it was cheap and they needed to save money for the father’s diabetes treatment (Food, Inc.). When the Orozco family was asked about their diet, the family acknowledged that they knew fast food wasn’t good for them, but because of their circumstances, they had no other choice, and I’m sure that this holds true for countless households across the nation (Food, Inc.).

A second constraint that may inhibit some people from buying their own food(s) is one that I have recently been under: my college dining plan. As a resident of one of MIT’s six dorms with its own dining hall, I’ve had to purchase a meal plan, and as such, going to a grocery store to get fresh ingredients is counterproductive because I would be wasting the money spent on my meal plan. Perhaps in future years when the minimum number of meals I am required to purchase is reduced, I may buy and cook more of my own meals, but for the remainder of my first year, the Simmons, Next, and New Vassar dining halls will continue to be refuge to my tired, hungry, and short-on-time self.

However, all this isn’t to say that I don’t agree with Berry to a certain extent. Beyond gaining more pleasure from our food, I think that his ideas about sourcing your food locally and ethically might actually be the solutions we need to start reducing the enormous carbon footprint left by the contemporary food industry. This not only includes factories where millions of prepackaged foods in plastic wrappers and cardboard boxes are churned out by the minute, but also even the seemingly “good” foods such as organic produce. In his piece, “My Organic Industrial Meal” (2006), acclaimed food writer Michael Pollan questions whether organic foods always provide the health benefits they promise. He looks at both sides of the argument and finds that while the United States Secretary of Agriculture, who manages “an agricultural system dedicated to quantity rather than quality,” claimed that companies use “organic” as a “marketing tool” and that “organic food is no better than conventional food,” some scientific evidence suggests otherwise (Pollan 722). Pollan cites a 2003 study by researchers Alyson Mitchell and Diane Barrett at the University of California-Davis, who found that organic fruits had higher levels of nutrients such as vitamin C and polyphenols, a type of nutrient that scientists are still learning about but have identified as playing an important role in our diet (Pollan 722). Looking at the UC Davis study, one could conclude that perhaps eating organic is “better,” but what is the price for such foods? Organic food is almost always more expensive (a point I will discuss later), and transporting it can be quite taxing on the environment. Often, organic foods have to be grown in remote regions because they cannot survive the harsh conditions of places closer to their final destinations without the aid of pesticides. While practices in organic agriculture can actually save “a third” of the “fossil fuel[s]” used to produce conventional foods, those benefits are often lost when the food has to be transported hundreds of extra miles on planes and trucks, which produce large amounts of greenhouse gasses (Pollan 725). If consumers were to buy their produce from farmers’ markets or stores that source their produce more locally, however, they could help cut these emissions significantly while still maintaining a healthy lifestyle as those foods are often organic.

But the problem is much bigger than whether the privileged upper and middle classes are eating organic and where their food comes from. A demographic often overlooked in discussions about “eating better” is the working class, who often don’t have the choice to do so even if they want to. As of 2009, 23.5 million Americans live in food deserts, which are urban areas where residents don’t have access to affordable, healthy, and fresh foods (United States Department of Agriculture). The Orozcos from Food, Inc. are a prime example of a working-class family living in a food desert and the impacts it can have. The father had Type 2 diabetes, which is often a result of increasingly unhealthy diets. While it is true that the family had to eat at fast food places to save money for the father’s medication, even before his diagnosis, they regularly ate at places such as McDonald’s because it was the only food available, which could have contributed to the father’s diagnosis in the first place. If Wendell Berry is to say that all Americans should abandon industrial meals such as pre-packaged ones and fast food, he should also provide solutions for how everyone can access and afford non-industrial food. Fortunately, the last few years have seen movements to make this a reality, such as affordable grocery stores like Daily Table here in Boston, products like AeroGarden that allow individuals to easily grow their own produce, and practices such as guerrilla gardening where community members transform unused plots of land into gardens (Finley).

 

 

 

Unfortunately, the reality is that it will take a long time to reach a point where everyone can afford to buy local foods and cook with them — or at least eat from restaurants that make fresh food with locally sourced ingredients because there are many more key players in this game, including governments and supermarket chains. According to a 2012 report by the Natural Resources Defense Council, 40% of food in America goes uneaten even as “one in six Americans lack a secure supply of food to their tables” (Gunders 4). However, steps such as in-depth analyses of how much food is wasted, clarifying date labels, incentives such as tax credits for donating food and more can all help reduce waste (Gunders 5, 16). Such actions can also help cut losses across the supply chain, which in turn could allow for more resources to make produce and other healthy foods more accessible across the board.

Luckily, I am an optimist and like to think of myself as a revolutionary (I’ve certainly lived through and won many revolutions in all the books I’ve read), and I look forward to being a part of the impending food revolution that will increase accessibility of healthier foods. This revolution has not only been spurred by the rise of consumer consciousness through platforms and campaigns across the internet, but also through various science advancements, such as hydroponics and alternate foods such as plant-based meats, which produce less greenhouse gasses and contain fewer unhealthy components such as saturated fats. Hopefully, linking Americans more intimately to their food through practices such as guerrilla gardening and products such as AeroGarden mentioned earlier will also increase the pleasure food brings them, as Berry wishes. He states that “the pleasure of eating should be an extensive pleasure,” which includes being involved in the process of obtaining the food rather than just consuming it, and that such knowledge imparts “understanding and gratitude” that transforms into pleasure through “accurate consciousness of the lives and the world from which food comes” (Berry 151). I only hope that the food revolution comes soon enough that we can still save the earth, prevent more people from becoming sick, and so that Wendell Berry can see it too.

 

Works Cited

“Aerogarden Time Lapse Video – 4 weeks – Tomatoes and Basil.” YouTube, Uploaded by WoodworkCity, 19 May 2020, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_qYvY6Yui04.

Berry, Wendell. “The Pleasures of Eating.” What Are People For? North Point Press, 1990, pp. 145-152.

Finley, Ron. “A Guerrilla Gardener in South Central LA.” TED, 2013, https://www.ted.com/talks/ron_finley_a_guerrilla_gardener_in_south_central_la.

Gunders, Dana. Wasted: How America Is Losing Up to 40 Percent of Its Food from Farm to Fork to Landfill. 2012. https://www.nrdc.org/sites/default/files/wasted-food-IP.pdf.

Kenner, Robert, director. “Food, Inc.” Magnolia Pictures, 2008.

“Meet the French group guerrilla gardening and planting food in the cities!” YouTube, Uploaded by Rob Greenfield, 10 Dec. 2021, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_uyS3CUz2CU.

Mitchell, Alyson E., and Diane M. Barrett. “Rebuttal on Comparison of the Total Phenolic and Ascorbic Acid Content of Freeze-Dried and Air-Dried Marionberry, Strawberry, and Corn Grown Using Conventional, Organic, and Sustainable Agricultural Practices.” Journal of Agricultural and Food Chemistry, vol. 52, no. 1, American Chemical Society (ACS), 13 Dec. 2003, pp. 150–152, doi:10.1021/jf030515k.

Pollan, Michael. “My Organic Industrial Meal.” American Food Writing: An Anthology with Classic Recipes: A Library of America Special Publication, edited by Molly O’Neill. Library of America, 2007, pp. 717–727.

Ullman, Ellen. “Dining with Robots.” The Best American Essays 2005, edited by Susan Orlean. Houghton Mifflin, 2005, pp. 242–251.

United States Department of Agriculture Economic Research Service. “Access to Affordable and Nutritious Food: Measuring and Understanding Food Deserts and Their Consequences.” United States Department of Agriculture, 2009.

 

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