| Title | : | We Are What We Eat: A Slow Food Manifesto |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | 0525561536 |
| ISBN-10 | : | 9780525561538 |
| Format Type | : | Hardcover |
| Number of Pages | : | 208 |
| Publication | : | First published June 1, 2021 |
In We Are What We Eat, Alice Waters urges us to take up the mantle of slow food culture, the philosophy at the core of her life's work. When Waters first opened Chez Panisse in 1971, she did so with the intention of feeding people good food during a time of political turmoil. Customers responded to the locally sourced organic ingredients, to the dishes made by hand, and to the welcoming hospitality that infused the small space--human qualities that were disappearing from a country increasingly seduced by takeout, frozen dinners, and prepackaged ingredients. Waters came to see that the phenomenon of fast food culture, which prioritized cheapness, availability, and speed, was not only ruining our health, but also dehumanizing the ways we live and relate to one another.
Over years of working with regional farmers, Waters and her partners learned how geography and seasonal fluctuations affect the ingredients on the menu, as well as about the dangers of pesticides, the plight of fieldworkers, and the social, economic, and environmental threats posed by industrial farming and food distribution. So many of the serious problems we face in the world today--from illness, to social unrest, to economic disparity, and environmental degradation--are all, at their core, connected to food. Fortunately, there is an antidote. Waters argues that by eating in a "slow food way," each of us--like the community around her restaurant--can be empowered to prioritize and nurture a different kind of culture, one that champions values such as biodiversity, seasonality, stewardship, and pleasure in work.
This is a declaration of action against fast food values, and a working theory about what we can do to change the course. As Waters makes clear, every decision we make about what we put in our mouths affects not only our bodies but also the world at large--our families, our communities, and our environment. We have the power to choose what we eat, and we have the potential for individual and global transformation--simply by shifting our relationship to food. All it takes is a taste.
We Are What We Eat: A Slow Food Manifesto Reviews
-
Not her best. Kind of preachy. For a better read by Waters, check out The Art of Simple Food. Or just read The Omnivore’s Dilemma.
-
It's Alice Waters. You know what you're going to get and she delivers. That said, it lacks depth and new ideas that would make it memorable.
-
So - let it first be said that I LIKE Alice Waters. What she's done for food in this country, and how her slow food movement has spread globally is inspiring, and also - Chez Panisse is delicious.
But my good god. The entire first half of this book is SO PREACHY and it makes a truly fatal mistake in moralizing something that only very very very privileged people have access to at all in her own community: like, there are food deserts in OAKLAND and you're talking about driving all over the Bay Area to find some fancy olives?
Come on. -
So I only made it 7% into the audiobook before I yanked the aux cord out of the car’s port in anger. I get what she is about, and I respect what she’s done, but complaining that people aren’t willing to take the time to spend three hours of their day driving across town to get a perfect baguette and hand-pollinated artisanal plums because of “fast food culture” is tone deaf.
-
WOW. Loved!! People may consider this book radical, but I loved it. I absolutely agree that the industrialization/globalization of the food industry has caused us to lose so much of the richness and fullness of life and human experience, and the slow food movement is the best food philosophy to live by.
Walking through six characteristics of the slow food movement (beauty, biodiversity, seasonality, stewardship, pleasure in work, simplicity, and interconnectedness), Alice Waters illustrates how being more conscious and engaged in the growing, harvesting, processing, and production of your own food gives you a greater connection to, appreciation of, and enjoyment of your food and, by extension, life. Because that is how we are meant to live! We are meant to live in harmony with earth's natural rhythms and to produce our own fruit (metaphorical and literal) to enjoy. (To me, this points to God's design for life, though Waters never makes any mention of God or religion.)
The fast food culture has taken advantage of our desires for cheapness, speed, convenience, etc. and made the culture of food into something unnatural, causing problems for consumers, workers, and the earth. Waters's recommendations to counteract these trends are most definitely radically countercultural and probably difficult for many people, including me, to implement in our lives, but there are many things I can begin to do to start working towards a slow food life. -
Alice Waters has been sending the same message for decades. It's a good message and deserves to be heard by people new to the slow food movement. Unlike food writer MFK Fisher she is more of an activist than an artist. Practical and straight forward she walks the walk and I appreciate that. I love Chez Pannise and would be interested to hear how things have changed in her restaurant over time. The book is worth a look if you haven't read similar works.
-
This is a manifesto, alright.
There’s nothing in here that is surprising or new. I suppose if you read the acknowledgements, she says she wanted to write the pivotal book of her thoughts and activism. So that’s what you have here — a book that is just a preachy sermon about slow food and why you must respect where food comes from.
But her ideas are, well, idealistic and coming from a really privileged person Not everyone can drive all around the Bay Area for a peach and some olives. Not everyone can afford to buy or spend time cooking the way she says we should. Not everyone is going to fall in love with their work and the mundane tasks. I get the utopian ideal but that’s not the way the world works for anyone who isn’t a white lady who has done well for herself.
There are nuggets of great truth here but I don’t know what value I got out of this book. She told what I already knew, what I already believed and offered nothing else except for a thin layer of judgement.
This read like a really, really expensive bottle of olive oil. It’s supposed to be good for you and real fancy but you just taste regular olive oil, and you can’t even eat it without pairing with something else. You certainly can’t cook with it. Why did you spend all that money on fancy olive oil again? -
To me, this book is a wake up call to savor life, to appreciate the bounty of the seasons, and to connect with our local terroir. Written from the heart, by an author who has walked the walk all her life, this book is a gift as much as it is a manifesto. The great news (amid the heartbreaking accounts of what we have lost as a result of our fast-food-culture), is that with each purchase and each meal we are empowered to bring goodness, purity, and justice back to our plates and into our lives. And the rewards are delicious!
-
You will never take a bite of a food without thinking differently.
Alice Waters is a compassionate earth protector, chef, community and nutrition advocate, educator, creator and life changing thought shifter.
This book is so perfectly ordered that your mind will be seriously impacted toward all aspects of living, not just toward your food.
If I could give it 10 stars, I would. -
Through her personal experience as a chef and restaurant owner, Alice Waters describes the need for society to shift from valuing the cheapness, availability and speed of fast food to valuing the biodiversity, seasonality and stewardship of slow food. This comes from understanding and appreciating where our food comes from and how it is grown.
While I enjoyed Waters’ perspective and agree with many of her points surrounding the benefits of slow food, I found myself wanting more from the book. I wanted to know how these ideas could realistically be initiated for significant change. In order for society to switch to slow food as she suggests, radical changes are required on a small-scale, such as our habits and preferences, and on a large-scale, like the policies and markets. None of this is mentioned in the book, so I would have enjoyed hearing of these solutions-based approaches in addition to the descriptions of food culture that she provides.
Overall, this book is ideal for food lovers and those interested in hearing a strong perspective on how we view, value, grow and eat our food.
Thank you to Penguin Press for this gifted copy in exchange for my honest review. -
3.5/5
We Are What We Eat at times felt really soothing to read and I really enjoyed the style of writing. There's one quote in particular I've been thinking about since I read it:
"Besides, what are we doing with the extra time that's created when things are so convenient? What are we making room for?"
It really made me think about what justifications I use to myself when I buy frozen or ready made meals. Are those sometimes actually necessary to me because otherwise I wouldn't have the energy to have a proper meal? Yes. But it's got me thinking to the days when I actually have time and still grab something that's "easy" and what I hope to do with the time I've saved.
While I did enjoy parts of this book there were parts of it that just don't feel feasible, especially for people in food deserts, people who work multiple jobs or people who don't have the ability to get or make meals completely from scratch from organic or local produce. Maybe in an ideal world that would be possible for every single person but sadly we're not at that point yet.
Overall, I thought the book made some interesting points but ultimately I found parts of it too "tooting her own horn" so to speak. I mean I don't know how many times she mentioned her restaurant Chez Panisse but it was a lot 😅
#IndigoEmployee -
The first half is a lot of information that many of us probably know - how unhealthy the American diet is, dangers of processed foods, etc. but the second half is the gem. She talks about ways that slow food ideas were incorporated into chez panisse and how they’ve evolved over time, taking time to enjoy food and connect with people by sitting together,and sharing her philosophy of food, growing food, nature and the environment. It inspired me to think about a garden of my own and being more responsible and regenerative in my food practices.
-
I ate up every word. Now I need to rethink all my food shopping habits.
-
Alice is a purist but that’s okay
-
After reading and not enjoying Alice Waters' memoir I wasn't sure about reading this one. But, it was recommended to me by a coworker and the premise seemed like something I would like. And I did like it, it's a good overview of the slow food movement and why that's important. The book is divided into two sections - fast food culture and slow food culture. Each section has a few chapters that focus on one aspect of that food culture like convenience or cheapness in the fast food section or seasonality and stewardship in the slow food section. There were a lot of very mixed reviews of this book, but I felt like Waters did a great job of giving a good overview of both food cultures. There were also a lot of reviews about how her views of food are rooted in privilege which I can kind of agree with, but I also think she's not advocating for shopping at Whole Foods, she's advocating for growing your own food, cooking simply, not eating processed food which can (and is) done by many people of varying income levels. It wasn't all that long ago that more people grew and raised at least some of their own food. If government regulations allowed more small farmers/businesses then there could be local food found in more diverse areas. Overall, I did like the book and think it's a good overview of the slow food movement and why it's important.
Some quotes I liked:
"I don't know that I can say it better than Tim Wu, a law professor at Columbia, who wrote a brilliant opinion piece for The New York Times called 'The Tyranny of Convenience': 'Convenience is the most underestimated and least understood force in the world,' Wu writes. 'As task after task becomes easier, the growing expectation of convenience exerts a pressure on everything else to be easy or get left behind. We are spoiled by immediacy and become annoyed by tasks that remain at the old level of effort and time...Today's cult of convenience fails to acknowledge that difficulty is a constitutive feature of human experience.'" (p. 22)
"Cheapness. In our world, we've mixed up the idea of affordability with cheapness. When cheapness is the most important thing, no one talks about quality, or how good or bad the product might be for you or the planet - just what a good deal it is. We don't understand the real cost of things anymore, because (1) no one tells us and (2) many products are priced artificially low - supported by subsidies and corporate sleight of hand. The truth, which we all need to learn, is that food should be affordable, but it can never be cheap." (p. 59)
"When I make these arguments, knowing I need to spend more money on organic food, wanted to support restaurants that are farm-to-table, I'm labeled an elitist. But this is only because the fast food industry doesn't let the consumers see the hidden costs. People separate healthcare costs from food costs, for example, but they are inextricably linked. Almost 40 percent of the global population is overweight or obese, which increases the risk for numerous health issues, including diabetes and heart disease. There are so many studies about true-cost accounting, demonstrating that when you add up all these hidden costs, including environmental degradation and healthcare, the cost of industrially produced food is considerably higher than that of organic food. People feel that the prices at farmers' markets are artificially high, but it's the discounted prices everywhere else that are artificial." (p. 65)
"We've accepted a pretty low level of taste when it comes to our animals: they've been bred to be uniformly big, fat, and low-maintenance, all to fit the industrial agricultural convenience model. While we absolutely need to focus on how humanely animals are raised and how they are fed, we also need to appreciate and preserve heritage breeds." (p. 111)
"The traditional hedgerows in England, for example, which seem like simple barriers between fields, actually serve as havens of biodiversity, where birds and beneficial insects can live in close relationship to the neighboring crops or the animals grazing nearby. Not only do these hedgerows encourage biodiversity, but they act as effective windbreaks and boundaries. Instead of fences, why not plant hedgerows around schools and other institutions?" (p. 113)
"Another argument I hear against seasonality is that we can't possibly feed everyone on this planet if we have to survive on what's locally grown. I don't believe that. I'm convinced that using networks of small, local farms is the only way we actually can feed everyone sustainably...We are so unaccustomed to eating in season that we've forgotten the traditional ways people have preserved and cooked food. I am amazed at all the ways it is possible to capture seasonality: salting cod, curing ham, pickling cabbage or carrots or turnips, canning tomatoes or peaches - or cooking with all the heritage varieties of dried beans, lentils, pasta, rice, spices, nuts, and dried berries. As recently as sixty years ago, preserving was a skill that most families had." (p. 125-26)
"When you're shelling your own beans or peas, you also value them more: It took this much time to end up with one little bowl. You also understand the value of the person who might otherwise do that kind of work for you. Everyone should understand what it takes to pick beans in a field, or, for that matter, wash dishes in a restaurant." (p. 154)
[Alice visited a prison in San Francisco that was growing food for Chez Panisse] "Catherine asked the men if they would like to speak a little about what they had been doing. One guy, nineteen years old, raised his hand. 'Maybe I shouldn't be speaking up, because it's my first day in the garden,' he said. 'But it's the best day of my life.' Every time I tell that story, it makes me cry." (p. 159)
"We have witnessed this strength of smaller, scaled-down, decentralized networks firsthand during the coronavirus pandemic. The smaller farms have been the ones that are better able to pivot, adapt, and even flourish under new and unexpected circumstances. 'This is one time where small is beautiful,' our peach farmer, Mas Masumoto, said in a New York Times article in May 2020, two months into our country's quarantine. 'When you're small you can make these shifts much more easily,' We think we need these big corporations to feed ourselves, but we don't." (p. 170) -
Meh 2.5 stars.
In theory, I agree with much of Alice Waters' theory of taking the time to make food from scratch. And yes, it is better for you and the global supply chain to eat organic food. But in practice … this smacks of classism with a side of sexism at its worst. I don’t think I need to explain why.
Not to mention, when people talk about being unable to relate to coastal elites, this is what they’re talking about. Romanticizing the small, family farmer is a modern trope worthy of more nuanced exploration. Living in mid-Michigan adjacent to quite a few family-run farms, you see the Trump flags on the farm houses and the confederate bumper stickers on their trucks. At what price am I really buying locally grown produce? -
I needed a hate read
-
I vaguely heard that Alice Waters had a new book coming out June 1, so I asked my local bookstore to hold a copy for me. I assumed it would be a cookbook of some sort, but the subtitle makes clear that this is a book-length manifesto. Living in the Bay Area all my life, I watched Waters' restaurant Chez Panisse open up on Shattuck Ave. in Berkeley and instantly connect with the Zeitgeist. It had a French feel without the fussiness, and it was purist: only the best, most seasonal, freshest local ingredients, prepared to bring out the best flavors. This meant there was only one dinner option each night because that quality could not be produced in multiple different dishes simultaneously every evening. The menu was posted by the day. Berkeley is a kind of foody paradise, and local people were fine with this, in fact you had to reserve long in advance to get a table. Instead of standard glitzy advertising there were lovely posters by good artists. I knew this worked in Berkeley, but I was amazed to learn that her purism spread to other places, and farm-to-table became an international sign of quality. Her cookbooks do not have the usual food porn glossy photos, instead she favors botanically accurate linocuts prints of fruits and vegetables, one cookbook features a beautiful cabbage on the cover. No pandering. It was insanely refreshing to watch a non-commercial idealistic venture become an international, and profitable, success story. I halfway expected her to eventually be ruined by success, move into a bigger space, open satellite restaurants, market a line of packaged food products, go for the glamor and money. Never!
"We Are What We Eat" is a political manifesto based on her nearly half a century of experience feeding people. Everyone needs to eat. It is one of the few universals in all of history and all cultures. She believes that corporate greed has industrialized and marketed food production in a way that has corrupted modern culture with addictions to unhealthy food that is bad for both people and the planet. And it is a serious global problem. I have to agree. Her Manifesto is filled with an abundance of charming examples of small farmers reaching customers with healthier food. And customers learning to honor the labor that goes into raising and picking the food that is essential to our health. She also believes in the curative power of families and even business colleagues eating around the same table. And she believes in the importance of the aesthetic dimension of food, with flowers and candles and well designed surroundings. She established teaching gardens in school and found that if children grow vegetables themselves they eat them with gusto. She established a kitchen garden in a prison, and tough young guys apparently enjoyed being outdoors working with nature. For people living in cold climates, she experimented with green houses for fresh local produce. For urban dwellers in so-called "food deserts," she has promoted transforming vacant lots and small plots into gardens. It is hard to deny: Transporting food over thousands of miles simply pollutes the air, and industrial farming with pesticides and herbicides pollute the soil. As an alternative, local gardening is simply a healthy lifestyle, all that exercise, fresh air, healthy food, and a slower pace. It is rather difficult to disagree. What she does not mention is that sustaining decentralized local food production has national security ramifications. Industrial meatpacking plants with computerized business models can be hacked and shut down. Waters has a unified vision that has proven itself now over decades. It didn't come out of a vacuum, she credits her Montessori training as well as her parents' wisdom. She does have a rather zen approach. We need to eat, but we also need to enjoy the simple process of shelling peas and serving friends and eating together. I find her Manifesto literally "down to earth," and compelling. -
While I think that the author’s themes are important to consider when reimagining the food system, the author is exceptionally out of touch with reality. As someone who has worked in the food and nutrition policy space for over a decade, I find the solutions the author suggests to ignore the sad reality that millions of Americans are low income, fighting to put food on the table for their families, and simply do not have the time, transportation, cooking equipment, or resources to eat in the way she suggests. In an ideal world, we’d all be growing our own food and selecting the most beautiful tomatoes grown in the most impeccable climate, as the author claims she does. However, speaking in those terms is a privilege that many Americans simply do not have. Ultimately, I found the manifesto to be very tone-deaf and written to a wealthy, privileged, white audience. The themes are definitely important to consider and I believe they should be utilized when reconstructing food policy. I just wish the author had gotten off of her white privilege high horse to write from the viewpoint of what it’s actually like to grow up food and nutrition insecure in America.
-
hahaha i hated this
i read a few other reviews before i actually started typing this and i do think that criticizing it for being preachy or idealistic are perhaps a bit unfair because it both brands itself as a Manifesto and also waters announces to the reader that everything in the book is anecdotal and not researched
i can get over that. i wanted to lean into it and take a bite out of the message but i have a much harder time looking past the *we must cure being fat* and *i have never understood this word so here’s a chapter about it* and *unions are bad????* aspects that she just like sprinkles in there
maybe this was just a Bad place to start with alice waters (according to goodreads reviewers it’s Not her best work) but this has not made me wanna read food books and that’s rare -
I would love to visit Chez Panisse and I believe the values put forward by Alice Waters and her restaurant/movement are critically important to the future of our world. However, this book was very light in content. It was mostly the musings of Waters herself, sprinkled with anecdotes and odd vocabulary choices and lacking in facts, research, or objectivity. The importance of her subject means that such a book should be persuasive and give thought to the readers who might object to her very perspective. Instead, it felt like pandering to people like myself, who already agree with her and found nothing new or enlightening in the book.
-
Was torn between rating 3 or 4 stars — I definitely agree with a lot of the criticisms of her argument (esp. surrounding the privilege of being able to be deliberate about your food), but ended up rounding up because ultimately, I’m more than sympathetic to the idealism, and I see how her vision creates a world where high-quality food is accessible to all. Didn’t feel particularly groundbreaking but the last two or three chapters really did it for me. Inspiring! I love food :)
-
Từ sau Nào tối nay ăn gì mới đọc được thêm 1 cuốn non-fic về thực phẩm hay như thế này. Đó giờ cứ tưởng việc ăn chỉ là 1 chiều, nhưng h��a ra chúng ta cũng chính là những gì mình ăn. Được chia làm 2 phần với văn hóa ăn nhanh và ăn chậm, cuốn này của Alice Waters cho ta một góc nhìn khác hơn trong chủ nghĩa tiêu dùng, cách chúng ta chọn thực phẩm cũng như ai mà ta muốn trưởng thành. Khá ổn.
-
There was so much truth in this book regarding the fast food culture and really the much bigger picture of society living at hyper speed (two things I feel quite passionate about), but in the end it was hard to shake the privilege that seeped from most chapters in Waters book. Might be better off reading something pertaining to slow living and allowing that to flow into your approach to food in your home and community.
-
I agree with the message but not the delivery.
This has motivated me to buy in season, but most of the claims in this book are novel or unsubstantiated.
I guess I just expected more than a preachy prose. -
Love Alice Waters so much. Loved learning about sustainability in food. Lots of the info was common knowledge to me, but still loved reading it so much!
