“Reducing this nation’s dependence on foreign oil” is nearly as common a political platitude as my other favorites “crossing the aisle” and “fighting the war on terror.” But the politics of energy are of particular interest to me, not surprisingly because of their relationship to food. This column, however, is neither about eating local nor farming practices that can eliminate chemical fertilizers as strategies for reducing the oil addiction (at least not explicitly). Instead, I want to spend some time speaking out against the most popular oil alternative: ethanol. (more…)

Of the many insights for conservation and sustainability initiatives found in the work of ecologists, perhaps the most valuable is not a particular concept or principle, but the guidance provided by the discipline itself for a new way of thinking about how we interact with the natural world. The principles of ecology share in a philosophy of interconnectedness that weighs the form and function of a system together, capturing both inner dynamics as well as the phenomena that emerge from the system’s operation as a whole. To think ecologically, guided by its principles and examples, offers a great many benefits to people as we decide to how best interact with the world. Aldo Leopold called this “thinking like a mountain.” By revealing complexity and interconnectedness within and between places, ecological thinking forces us to assume that same level of complexity and interconnectedness in the outcomes of our behavior. Thinking ecologically also suggests a set of goals, such as diversity and resilience, by which managed ecosystems can thrive and persist over time. And perhaps most importantly, thinking in this way insists that people admit their residence within ecosystems, contrary to the too-long-held human vs. nature dichotomy, transforming conquerors of nature into potential managers of and entrenched participants in ecosystems. (more…)

Reprinted with permission from the November issue of the Ester Republic.

As we walked through the front door of my almost-in-law’s home, my then-still-fiancée and I were greeted with crisis. “Theas no moah fresh sablefish, only frozen,” I heard my caterer proclaim as a cordless phone was thrust into my hand. I recognized his Cape Cod accent right away. The development was a disappointment, to be sure, but probably not a crisis. Sablefish is delicious, cheap, and responsibly fished under a community-based system of management. Frozen wouldn’t be as tasty, and would be harder for the chef to work with, but purchasing the frozen sablefish for the event, I mused, would be the ultimate display of commitment to supporting a local, responsible food resource.

My caterer, however, had a different idea. Remember the Tyson pen? “Frozen will taste horrible,” he proclaimed – “You want Barramundi. Its cheap, tastes like Chilean sea bass, and tops all the ‘sustainability’ lists.” Sigh. “No,” I responded, “we’re not going with a farmed fish.” I asked him to find out what other options were available from local waters and get back to me.

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Reprinted with permission from the October issue of the Ester Republic.

Eating local is a value that is reasonably easy to pursue when you only a household to feed, but I knew that my local food values would be tested when planning to feed 120 guests at my upcoming wedding. My fiancée Alysa and I are marrying on October 13^th of this year. Skeptics say that Slow Food only works for the small, and a congregation of 120 people is by few measures small. So our wedding, it would seem, was an opportunity to prove them wrong. (more…)