In his 1996 book Tasting Food, Tasting Freedom,
the great food anthropologist Sidney Mintz concluded that the United
States had no cuisine. Interestingly, Mintz’s definition of cuisine
came down to
conversation. For Mintz, Americans just didn’t engage in passionate talk about food. Unlike the southwest French and their
cassoulet, most Americans don’t obsess and quarrel about what comprises, say, an authentic veggie burger.

But if cuisine comes down to talk, things are looking up a decade after
Mintz cast his judgment. Now, more and more people are buzzing about
food: not only about what’s good to eat, but also — appropriately for
the land that invented McDonald’s and Cheetos — about what’s in our
food, where it came from, how it was grown.

No writer has galvanized this new national conversation on food more
than Michael Pollan, from his muckraking articles on the meat industry
for
The New York Times Magazine earlier this decade to the publication last year of The Omnivore’s Dilemma.
On a recent day when he was reviewing the galleys of his latest book,
due out in January, I rang up Pollan at his Berkeley, Calif., home to
talk … about food.

Q: So tell me a little bit about what you’ve been working on recently.

A: The new book is called In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto. It’s a book that really grew out of questions I heard from readers after Omnivore’s Dilemma,
which was basically so how do you apply all this? Now that you’ve
looked into the heart of the food system and been into the belly of the
beast, how should I eat, and what should I buy, and if I’m concerned
about health, what should I be eating? I decided I would see what kind
of very practical answers I could give people.

I spent a lot of time looking at the science of
nutrition, and learned pretty quickly there’s less there than meets the
eye, and that the scientists really haven’t figured out that much about
food. Letting them tell us how to eat is probably not a very good idea,
and indeed the culture — which is to say tradition and our ancestors
— has more to teach us about how to eat well than science does. That
was kind of surprising to me.

It really comes down to seven words: “Eat food,
not too much, mostly plants.” What is food? How do you know whether
you’re getting food or a food-like product? The interesting thing that
I learned was that if you’re really concerned about your health, the
best decisions for your health turn out to be the best decisions for
the farmer and the best decisions for the environment — and that there
is no contradiction there.

Q: The other thing that’s interesting, along the same lines, is this idea
in American culture that what is good for you tastes bad, and what
tastes bad is good for you.

A: Yes, exactly right. There’s no sacrifice in eating well, there is no
sacrifice in pleasure. To the contrary, the best-grown food is actually
the tastiest. Now, it wasn’t always true. I mean, you know, in the
first generation of organic farmers, they weren’t that good at it. But
the quality has dramatically improved and is superb right now.

Q: Then there’s this idea that food is something you can endlessly
fragment: if you find something in a food that’s beneficial, you can
isolate it, and concentrate it, and put it in a pill.

A: It’s the reductionist’s logic of food science, basically. And the
interesting thing is that whenever that has been tried, it has failed.
Foods are much more than the sum of their nutrient parts, and you
cannot expect to get the same effect. Now there are things like
vitamins that have been isolated, and in their isolated form they can
cure deficiency diseases. But when they’ve tried to take out the
antioxidants, things like beta-carotene and vitamin E, they don’t seem
to work.

Q: There’s an analogy there with agriculture: the macronutrients in food
and the macronutrients in soil. A, B, C, and D vs. N, P, and K. Turns
out that soil needs more than just isolated N, P, and K to produce
fully nutritious food.

A: There’s a mystery at both ends of the food chain. There’s the mystery
about what makes a healthy soil, which you cannot yet fake or simulate,
and there’s the mystery of what makes a healthy food, which you cannot
yet simulate or fake.

Q: The advice to “eat food, not much, mostly plants” is deceptively simple
— how do you apply that in a society that’s become addicted to
convenience food?

A: I think that there’s some brainwashing going on with this idea that we
don’t have time to cook anymore. We have made cooking seem much more
complicated than it is, and part of that comes from watching cooking
shows on television — we’ve turned cooking into a spectator sport.
We’re terrified to play tackle football too when we watch how it’s
played on TV — we’d get killed. But cooking’s a whole lot easier than
it appears on
Iron Chef.

We cook every night here. My wife and I both
work, and we can get a very nice dinner on the table in a half hour. It
would not take any less time for us to drive to a fast-food outlet and
order, sit down, and bus our table. [But] when you create this image of
people as being hurried, and harried, and of course you need TV
dinners, that kind of sinks in. They kind of flatter us by telling us
we’re too busy and that we have such rushed lives, but in the end we
find time for what matters. In just the last 10 years we’ve found,
what, two or three hours a day to deal with the internet? It’s a matter
of priority, it’s not really about ability. Some people are very
intimidated about cooking and I think that’s a shame, and I think we
have to help people get over that by teaching them how to cook,
teaching kids how to cook in school.

Q: How did you learn to cook?
A: I learned to some extent from my mother, who was a really good cook,
just hanging out in the kitchen watching her do it. I [had] a classic
suburban childhood on Long Island. My mom cooked dinner four or five
nights a week, and always your classic — there was some kind of
protein, and two vegetables, and dessert, the whole bit. And it was a
really important part of our family life. When I was living alone in my
20s, when I got my first apartment, I cooked partly because I couldn’t
afford to go out — you know, it’s kind of a myth that it’s more
expensive to cook. So I’ve always been kind of interested in it.

There are times where you fall out of the habit
and you get seduced by alternatives and it seems harder than it really
is. But you know, as I started shopping at farmers’ markets and joined
a CSA — that pushes you back to the kitchen. That’s one of the
unintended consequences of buying food that way: you can’t find
anything microwaveable at the farmers’ market, so you begin cooking
again.

Q: I’ve lived in places where I could walk five minutes to an incredible
farmers’ market. There are a lot of people who don’t have that
privilege in other parts of the country. But I think that is changing,
and there’s a lot of great programs going on.

A: I spent a lot of time on the road last year, and I was surprised at
where the local food movement was taking root. It was a lot of places
that you wouldn’t expect it. And I know that there are still food
deserts — ironically they tend to be in the farm belt, a lot of them.

One of the things I always have to be aware of
is I live in a place where it’s very easy to eat off the supermarket
grid, if you will. My farmers’ market is open 50 weeks a year, and the
CSA runs, I think, 48 weeks a year — and that’s only because they need
a break. But I do think that to the extent there are alternatives and
people support them, even if they’re small now, they will very quickly
get much bigger.

Q: Omnivore’s Dilemma clearly struck a nerve. Were you surprised by the reaction, and did it start the conversation you were hoping it would?

A: I was completely flabbergasted by the reaction. I had no idea it would
start a conversation to the extent it has. You work on a book for
years, and you don’t know where the culture’s going to be when you
finish. And sometimes the message you’re bringing happens to coincide
with other things going on in the culture, and I think that that’s what
happened. There were several other very good food books out, and they
all did quite well. So I think there was something in the air, and
people were receptive to the message.

I was very struck by the energy I felt in
audiences and still feel in audiences, which is very much a political
energy. At a time when people feel really frustrated about electoral
politics, very frustrated about the war, this administration in lots of
ways, I think that that’s part of what is creating this center of
gravity around food. Because it’s really fundamental politics, because
— and I think that you’ve heard me say this — you have a power here
that you don’t have elsewhere. You’ve got three votes a day, and how
you cast those votes, we have seen over the last few years, has a
tremendous effect.

The most gratifying thing I hear is farmers,
ranchers, who say they’re having a great year this year and more people
are coming in and asking for pastured livestock, more people are
joining CSAs … consumers are starting to reconceive what it means to
be a consumer, and [see] that citizenship is part of consumption. …
People are getting something besides food when they go to the farmers’
market, they’re getting a sense of community.

Q: When you really get into local food, it’s suddenly about community,
coming together — at the farmers’ market, meeting a farmer at the CSA,
cooking with your friends and family. Seems like there’s a hunger for
these things in a post-modern society that’s built on suburbia, and the
car, and atomization.

A: You know, people have looked to food for all these values for thousands
of years — food was a way to come together, it was a way to express
your identity, it was a way to engage with nature — food has always
had this power. And I think we’ve had a kind of temporary forgetting of
that, and this idea that food is just fuel, food is about health or
illness, these very simplistic, reductive ideas have kind of thinned
out the whole experience. But there’s a desire to thicken it again, and
lo and behold food is providing all these satisfactions that people
were missing.

Q: Both of us have been active in the effort to demystify the farm bill
and convince people to care about it. What are your hopes for the farm
bill at this point?

A: I was just on the phone this morning with a congressman (and by the
way, they’re calling me, I’m not calling them at this point, and I
think that’s interesting). There’s more politics around the farm bill
— more grassroots politics, more reform politics — than there has
been in a generation. At the same time, and as a result of that, there
has been a defensive reaction that has been fierce. And there is a
resentment that anyone from the outside — which is to say outside of
these commodity crops, outside of the memberships of these committees
— is trying to get in on the issue and get in on the debate. There was
a very telling quote in the
San Francisco Chronicle
by [Rep.] Collin Peterson [D-Minn.] … where he says, “These city
people don’t know what they’re talking about, they should stay out of
it.”

I think they understand as soon as they start
negotiating these large questions then everyone’s going to pile in and
we’re going to get a very different kind of farm bill, and they just
don’t want this to happen. And when I say “they,” I’m talking about the
Midwestern congressmen and senators on both agriculture committees.

Now it may be that the reformers have not done
a good enough job of framing proposals in a way that doesn’t look
threatening. I think the basic tack has been a very simple anti-subsidy
tack: “Subsidies are welfare, farmers should fend for themselves when
prices are good.” So it looks like you’re simply trying to take
something away from farmers, and I think politically perhaps that has
contributed to the powerful reaction we’ve seen … I don’t know how to
craft those proposals, I’m not a policymaker, but I think we’ve made a
mistake by equating reform with the destruction of farm support.

We’ll have to see what happens, but it’s not
time to give up on this. I detect an enormous amount of anxiety about
the politics on the part of the committees, and a sense that other
people in Congress are looking now over the shoulder of the ag
committee in a way they haven’t before. So defensiveness — you know,
this is defensiveness, this isn’t just power, and people should realize
that.

Q: I was wondering if you’d been back to Iowa since you did your research on
Omnivore’s Dilemma. When you were there corn was $1.50 a bushel, and now it’s $4 a bushel.

A: I know, the good times are rolling right now. I have not. I’m going to
go back this winter, though. The book tour is going to take me to Iowa
City, which I’m really looking forward to. Not that that’s exactly corn
country, but it’s close.

I’ve done a lot of radio in the Corn Belt, and
it’s clear that I’ve pissed off some people there. And I spoke at Iowa
State and a group of people got up and walked out because I was taking
the name of corn in vain.

Q: Since Omnivore’s Dilemma
came out, John Mackey publicly criticized you, and at the same time he
started rolling out these local foods measures, and now when you walk
into a Whole Foods you see “Buy Local” signs everywhere. What is your
take on Whole Foods’ Buy Local effort so far?

A: It was a very interesting exchange with him. It unfolded over the course of several months in these letters, and then he came to Berkeley to have an onstage conversation with me,
which was surprising and somewhat courageous of him, given Berkeley’s
attitude toward Whole Foods. And in many ways it was a very productive
exchange: I learned something about how that company works, and he made
some very promising initiatives.

I have seen what you’ve seen when I go around
the country visiting Whole Foods. There’s a much greater emphasis on
local food in the signage and on the shelf. But I haven’t done the kind
of systematic look — and it needs to be done about now — to see how
far they have come. It’s not for me to do; I would feel a little
awkward doing it myself. But I’m hoping that other journalists will do
it.

Q: Well, I know you’ve got to wrap up. I’ve had a great time talking to you.

A: Yeah, me too. It’s always great to talk about this stuff — it’s just
great that you’re out there doing this, and that you bring this
perspective as a farmer is very powerful. I’ve really enjoyed your
stuff, and it’s been wonderful to see the publicity you’ve gotten this year. I saw that terrific piece in
Gourmet.

Q: Oh, speaking of that, that article in
Gourmet exposed my predilection for chips. And my editor wanted me to ask you: What is your junk-food weakness?

A: Oh, god, let me think … My favorite packaged junk food has always
been Cracker Jacks. Which is, of course, a corn product of a kind. Of
several kinds. It’s popcorn coated in corn syrup.

Q: I haven’t had those in years, but I loved them as a kid.

A: Cracker Jacks are great. Although the prizes have gone way downhill.

Grist contributing writer Tom Philpott farms and cooks at Maverick Farms, a sustainable-agriculture nonprofit and small farm in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina.