I am amenable to a good guilt trip in the right cause. Barbara Kingsolver tipped me over the edge to shopping at farmer’s markets and buying (mostly) seasonal food. Al Gore got me to buy a water filter instead of bottled water, and use cloth napkins instead of paper. I object to neither result, although it’s probably not going to stop me complaining about the inconvenience from time to time.
I sat down to read Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life expecting to be guilted, but also expecting to be entertained. I like reading books about people going off and doing things that I find highly appealing in theory, but have no interest in actually doing (gardening, backpacking through Asia, refurbishing a house in a small French village . . . . ). I was predisposed to the particular brand of guilt trip that she was hawking. I believe in supporting small local farmers, and in food that tastes like food and not preservatives. On the other hand, she was occasionally so out of touch with reality that I found it hard to read, much less enjoy the book. Even supposing that I had the inclination to spend my summer canning tomatoes I bought at a farmer’s market, I don’t have space to store them. My pantry is full, and let’s not even talk about my freezer. Granted, I have no idea what it’s filled with half the time, but I know that I don’t have the space to freeze summer corn so that I can eat it in February.
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Monday Night Dinner 