Is it possible to eat locally, and what would it be like? To answer
that question, the authors embarked on an experiment: a year of
local eating.
But why eat locally? The authors start with the obvious
carbon-footprint reason - the 1,500 or more miles that a typical
meal travels to our plates, a number only made possible by cheap
oil. Other more subtle reasons quickly emerge, and much of the
interest of the book comes from exploring these reasons.
The book is the product of two specific people, living and writing
in a specific place. It is a personal narrative, and needed to be
written in the first person. This is done by simply alternating
perspective - first chapter MacKinnon, second chapter Smith, etc.
It works, and is far preferable to the third person they resort to
for the short epilogue, or a fused first person where "I" becomes
meaningless. (Yes, I've seen it done.) The format is
straightforward: a month-by-month diary. Food is shared with
friends; family crises, work assignments and relationship troubles
come when they will. All are woven into the story, all somehow
adding to the themes of the book. Also added to the recipe is a
significant amount of research and interview: scientists, farmers,
fishers and natives are given a voice.
The specific place is Vancouver BC, on Canada's Pacific coast and
just north of the US border. European civilization came late to
this region, and not all the changes to its ecology have yet been
forgotten. As a resident of the same city, my familiarity with the
area certainly enhanced my enjoyment of the book. (But no, in case
you're wondering, I don't know the authors.) However, readers in
other parts of the world will be compensated with the challenge of
thinking about what constitutes local eating for their region, and
how the experiment would be easier, more difficult, or otherwise
different for them.
There are no villains in this book. The authors tell us how things
are, and what they can learn of how they were. The reader is left
to ponder the role of industrial food producers, governments, oil
companies - and us, the consumers. The authors are conducting an
experiment, not trying to form a new religion. 100 miles was their
definition of local, not the only one. One chocolate bar or one
working lunch at a Thai restaurant does not send them (or you) to
hell. They don't claim it's easy for city-dwellers to eat locally
today - they describe the challenges as well as the pleasures and
possibilities. (Just because a species doesn't grow here, doesn't
mean it can't.) They don't tell you that you have to do what they
did (and let's face it, not everybody has their commitment,
resourcefulness or culinary skill), but they do give you reasons
why you might aspire to. They don't claim that everyone in
Vancouver, or the rest of the world, could switch to a 100-mile
diet overnight. The point is that they did it, and they wrote a
book with the power to make you think.
By choosing to embark on their adventure, the authors have explored
a parallel universe of local eating. By writing about it, and with
with such skill, humour, intelligence and accessibility, they have
become our guides to that possible universe. In the words of my
university's PhD regulations, they have made a "contribution to
knowledge". They deserve our thanks.