AT THE TABLE.

It remained to be seen whether my cooking would honor my ingredients or just embarra.s.s me. In any case, by the hour set for the dinner, everything was more or less ready, except me. I raced upstairs to change and, before I had my shoes tied, heard the doorbell ring. The guests were arriving. They came bearing gifts: Angelo with his wine and pate, and Sue with a bouquet picked from her garden. Anthony brought a bottle of homemade nocino, nocino, a jet-black Italian liquor he'd made from green walnuts-yet another gift from the forest for our feast. a jet-black Italian liquor he'd made from green walnuts-yet another gift from the forest for our feast.

Most of the guests were strangers to one another. All they had in common was foraging-and me. But as we settled into the living room with our gla.s.ses of wine, it didn't take long for the conversation to start flowing. The fava bean toasts and boar pate went over well and that led to a discussion about boar hunting.

I disappeared into the kitchen to ready the pasta course. Within minutes Angelo appeared at my side, with an offer of help. I think he was a little worried I was in over my head. While we waited for the pasta water to come to a boil, I asked him to taste the morels. "It's good, but maybe it needs a little more b.u.t.ter." I handed him a stick and he dropped the whole thing in the pan. (So that's that's how the professionals do it!) how the professionals do it!) We dished out the pasta and I called everyone to the table for dinner. Candles were lit, wine was poured, the perfume of thyme and morels filled the room, and I raised my gla.s.s for a toast. I'd actually meant to write out something earlier, but the day had gotten away from me. So I kept it simple. I went around the table and spoke of each person's contribution to my foraging education and to this meal. I talked about Sue's generosity in sharing three of her choicest chanterelle spots. I talked about Anthony's allowing a complete-and completely green-stranger to accompany him hunting morels in the Sierra. I talked about hunting with Richard in Sonoma during that first failed outing. And lastly I talked about all the many things I'd learned from Angelo-things about mushrooms and pigs, about nature and the arts of cooking and eating well, and so much else besides. Then, worried I was in danger of melting down into sentiment, I raised my gla.s.s again and urged everyone to start.

I had actually wanted to say something more, to express a wider grat.i.tude for the meal we were about to eat. I guess I chickened out, afraid that to offer words of thanks for the pig and the mushrooms and the forests and the garden would come off sounding corny. The words I was reaching for, of course, were the words of grace.

THE PERFECT MEAL.

As you might expect, the talk at the table was mainly about food. Yet this was not the usual food talk of recipes and restaurants. These foragers talked about the plants and animals and fungi they had seen and met. They told stories of an oak forest in Sonoma, a pine burn in the Sierras, and a backyard in Berkeley. The stories brought all these places and the creatures in them to our table. Every item on our plates had a story-and not the kind of story printed on a milk carton about "organic" cows. These were stories the people at the table had lived.

The food, the places it came from, and the eaters at the table were all linked together. How different this was from the typical meal, in which we never even think about where the chicken or cherries come from. How completely different from a fast-food hamburger wolfed down without a moment's thought in a speeding car.

I don't want to make too much of it; it was just a meal, after all. A very tasty meal too, I don't mind saying. The wild pig was delicious both ways, with a nutty sweetness to it that tasted nothing like store-bought pork. The sauce for the leg was almost joltingly rich and earthy, powerfully reminiscent of the forest. So were the morels and b.u.t.ter (or perhaps I should say b.u.t.ter and morels), which had a deep, smoky, almost meaty flavor. I could have done a better job cleaning the grit from the morels, and the tart was a shade overcooked. But the cherries themselves tasted like little bursts of summer on the tongue, and no one seemed to have any trouble polishing it off.

In the end, I did feel it was a perfect meal. It wasn't my cooking that made it perfect, but the connection we felt with the food, with the place we live and with each other. Wasn't that exactly the feeling of connection I had been looking for when I began my journeys along the food chains of the U.S.? This food had never worn a label or bar code or price tag, and yet I knew almost everything there was to know about it. I knew and could picture the very oaks and pines that had nourished the pigs and the mushrooms that were nourishing us. And I knew the true cost of this food, the precise amount of time and work it had taken to get it and prepare it.

If I had to give this dinner a name, it would have to be the Omnivore's Thanksgiving. I certainly felt thankful to be eating those plants, animals, and fungi. I was thankful to have experienced them in full, as living creatures and not as items shrink-wrapped in the supermarket. And I was thankful to be in the company of friends who appreciated the miracle of it all.

Of course, it was just one meal. The day after, I would go back to shopping at the supermarket or farmers market. It's just not realistic for me to find and prepare meals like this more than once in a while. Most people will never be able to do it. Does that mean we are doomed to eating at the end of a long industrial food chain and never know where our food comes from, or what its true nature is? I hope not. Eating with awareness is one of the basic joys of life, and one that everyone can experience even without hunting and gathering your food.

ALL OUR MEALS.

One of the wonders of my do-it-yourself meal was how little it had damaged the world. My pig's place in the forest would soon be taken by another pig. The morels would come up again when they needed to. The cherry tree would bear fruit again next year. The meal was fully paid for in every sense; there was no pollution or packaging left over. There were no hidden costs or waste to be disposed of.

The fast-food meal seems cheap, but as we have seen, the costs are actually enormous. The industrial food chain costs each and every one of us: in government spending, in pollution, in global warming, and in our health. You can say that my forager's meal is unrealistic, but I would answer that the fast-food meal is unrealistic also. It is not realistic to rely on a food system that poisons the planet. It is not realistic to call something a food system when it replaces food with an industrial product that does not nourish us-and in fact makes us sick.

Imagine if we had a food system that actually produced wholesome food. Imagine if it produced that food in a way that restored the land. Imagine if we could eat every meal knowing these few simple things: What it is we're eating. Where it came from. How it found its way to our table. And what it really really cost. cost.

If that was the reality, then every meal would have the potential to be a perfect meal. We would not need to go hunting for our connection to our food and the web of life that produces it. We would no longer need any reminding that we eat by the grace of nature, not industry, and that what we're eating is never anything more or less than the body of the world.

I don't want to have to forage every meal. Most people don't want to learn to garden or hunt. But we can change the way we make and get our food so that it becomes food again-something that feeds our bodies and and our souls. Imagine it: Every meal would connect us to the joy of living and the wonder of nature. Every meal would be like saying grace. our souls. Imagine it: Every meal would connect us to the joy of living and the wonder of nature. Every meal would be like saying grace.

Isuspectthatreading this book will complicate your eating life. Writing it certainly complicated mine. And we're not alone. Sometimes I meet people who tell me that they liked my book, but they couldn't finish it. That's not what a writer ever wants to hear, so I always ask them, why not?

"Because in every chapter I learn about something I shouldn't eat anymore. I'm afraid if I get to the end, there won't be anything left to eat, and I'll starve."

Hearing this kind of thing from readers makes me appreciate that, in some ways, The Omnivore's Dilemma The Omnivore's Dilemma has deepened people's dilemmas about food. Do I feel bad about that? Not really. It's always better to know more rather than less, even when that knowledge complicates your life. Luckily, there are still plenty of things out there that are good to eat-and by good I mean not only delicious and healthy (good for us) but also good for the world: for the environment, for the workers who produce the food, and, in the case of meat or dairy, for the animals involved. has deepened people's dilemmas about food. Do I feel bad about that? Not really. It's always better to know more rather than less, even when that knowledge complicates your life. Luckily, there are still plenty of things out there that are good to eat-and by good I mean not only delicious and healthy (good for us) but also good for the world: for the environment, for the workers who produce the food, and, in the case of meat or dairy, for the animals involved.

One of the strongest reactions to the book is from people who tell me they became vegetarians after reading it. The Omnivore's Dilemma The Omnivore's Dilemma definitely created a lot of vegetarians. But what's more surprising has been to hear from former vegetarians who tell me that, after reading about Joel Salatin's farm, they started eating meat again. Why? Because they didn't realize that there were farms where the animals got to live good lives, eat the foods they were meant to eat, and then suffer only that one bad day right at the end of their lives. It was possible, they discovered, to eat meat with a clear conscience. definitely created a lot of vegetarians. But what's more surprising has been to hear from former vegetarians who tell me that, after reading about Joel Salatin's farm, they started eating meat again. Why? Because they didn't realize that there were farms where the animals got to live good lives, eat the foods they were meant to eat, and then suffer only that one bad day right at the end of their lives. It was possible, they discovered, to eat meat with a clear conscience.

So I'm guessing that the number of new vegetarians inspired by the book has been balanced out by the number of new carnivores. But whichever conclusion readers come to, they are more thoughtful about their choices-they act now out of knowledge rather than ignorance, and that's the most important thing. Ignorance is not not bliss, at least not if you're a person who cares about the health of your body and your world. bliss, at least not if you're a person who cares about the health of your body and your world.

Since writing the book, my family has changed the way we eat in many ways. I've lost my appet.i.te for feedlot meat and so have they. We used to enjoy a fast-food meal now and then, and even today my sixteen-year-old son, Isaac (when you met him in the book, at the McDonald's meal, he was only eleven), likes an occasional chicken nugget. But what he's learned from me about how the animals live on feedlots, and about what's in those chicken nuggets, has made him think twice about eating fast food on a regular basis. He's completely lost his appet.i.te for Big Macs and Whoppers, and he has stopped drinking soda except on special occasions.

My family also eats much less meat than we used to, and when we do eat it, we get it from farms or ranches or companies we know enough about to trust. We only buy gra.s.s-fed beef, which we can find in local markets (it's becoming increasingly common); and sometimes we buy it directly from a rancher. (You can find farmers selling pastured meat and milk in your area at eatwild.com.) In the case of plant-based foods, we usually buy organic or local (and ideally both-I think organic fruits and vegetables taste better, and I also like the idea that my food dollars are supporting farmers who care about the land). We also try to shop at the farmers market as often as possible. The food there is picked fresh, which means it is at the peak of its taste and nutritional quality, and every dollar goes directly to the farmers.

If this all sounds like a lot more trouble than buying whatever's on sale at the supermarket, you're right. It also costs a little more. But I think it's worth it. It's amazing how knowing the story behind your food can make it taste better. (Or, if it's a bad story, worse.) But I also enjoy meeting farmers at the farmers market, and seeing how my food dollars can help build a new food chain in America, one devoted to health at every step: to the health of the land, the health of the plants and animals, the health of my family, and the health of my community.

I call shopping and eating this way "voting with your fork." How you and your family choose to spend your food dollars represents one of the most powerful votes you have. You can vote to support the kind of feedlot where steer number 534 spent his miserable life, or you can vote for farms like Polyface, where animals live the lives they were meant to, the land is healed in the process, and the farmers make a decent living. That kind of alternative farm was created not only by visionary farmers like Joel Salatin, but by visionary consumers-like you.

I've never liked to think of myself as a mere "consumer"-the word sounds like someone who uses things up and diminishes the world, and very often that's exactly what a consumer does. But a consumer can be a creator too, by using his or her eating choices to help build a new food chain. That is a potent vote, and you get three of them every day. But perhaps best of all, when it comes to food, you don't have to wait till you're eighteen to start voting. You can start today, at your next meal.

That doesn't mean we're going to get that vote right every time or at every meal. We won't. Sometimes there are no good alternatives to vote for. Sometimes you're just going to want a Big Mac. There will be those special occasions when you crave that tall, cold cup of high-fructose corn syrup-I mean, a soda. But there's a big difference between the special splurge and the everyday habit, and the problem these days is that fast food has, for many of us, become everyday food. You don't have to go cold turkey-just put fast food back in its place, as special occasion food. And, when you are eating it, think about what you now know about your meal. How's it taste now?

If you cast your food vote consciously just once or twice a day, you will be doing a lot-for the farmers, for the animals, for the environment, and for your own health. I know: You don't make all the food decisions in your household. But you have more influence than you realize. Ever since you were little, pestering your mom to buy the cool new cereal you saw on TV-or tossing it in the shopping cart when she wasn't looking-you've had a major impact on how your family's food dollars get spent. So what about using that influence in a new way-say, by encouraging your parents to shop at the farmers market or to join a CSA? ("CSA" stands for Community Supported Agriculture. These are local farms that families "join" for a few hundred dollars a year. In return, they get a weekly box of fresh produce. It's often cheaper than shopping at the farmers market, and can even be cheaper than your local supermarket.) And then offer to help your parents cook a couple of nights a week-or take over one whole night yourself. Cooking for your family is a great way to influence how they eat.

Voting with your fork at school can be a challenge, but it's worth trying to do. How a school spends its food dollars can have a tremendous impact on the whole food system. In many schools today, students and parents are working together to improve the food service: to take away the soda machines (why should those companies be allowed to tempt you at school?); to encourage cafeterias to serve real food made from scratch (rather than just microwave chicken nuggets and Tater Tots); and even to teach cla.s.ses on how to grow and cook food yourself. Physical education is already a mandatory part of your school day, after all, so why not eating education? It's just as important to your health. Is your school teaching you how to be a lifelong fast-food junkie? Or is it teaching you the importance, and the pleasure, of eating real food at real meals?

It's an exciting time to be an eater in America. You have choices today that your parents couldn't have dreamed of: organic, local, CSAs, humanely raised milk and meat. When they were your age, there was basically only one way to feed yourself: from the industrial food chain. You have the option of eating from a very different food chain-you can vote with your fork for a better world, one delicious bite at a time.

The Omnivore s'Solution: Some Tips for Eating I'll bet I know your last burning question: "What now?" Now that you know all that you know about the food chains we depend on, how exactly should you fill up your plate? Most of my readers have the same question, so I've developed a handful of everyday rules to guide you through the newfound challenges (and possibilities!) of mealtime. (You can find more of them in the book I wrote after The Omnivore's Dilemma The Omnivore's Dilemma, called In Defense of Food In Defense of Food.) My advice comes in three parts:

EAT REAL FOOD.

That sounds pretty simple, but you now know it's not so easy to do. There are many things disguised disguised as food in our supermarkets and fast-food restaurants; I call them "edible food-like substances" (EFLS for short) and suggest you avoid them. But how do you tell the difference between real food and EFLS? Here are a few rules of thumb: as food in our supermarkets and fast-food restaurants; I call them "edible food-like substances" (EFLS for short) and suggest you avoid them. But how do you tell the difference between real food and EFLS? Here are a few rules of thumb: A. Don't eat anything your great-grandmother wouldn't recognizeasfood.Imagineshe'sbyyoursidewhenyou're picking up something to eat. Does she have any idea what that Go-GURT portable yogurt tube is or how you're supposedtoeat.i.t? (She might think it's toothpaste.)Thesame goes for that Honey-Nut Cheerios, cereal bar, the one with the layer of fake milk running through the middle, or the (even weirder) cereal "straw."B. Don't eat anything with more than five ingredients, or with ingredients you don't recognize or can't p.r.o.nounce. As with the Twinkie, that long ingredient list means you're looking at a highly processed product-an edible food-like substance likely to contain more sugar, salt,and fat than your body needs, and very few realnutri ents. As with the Twinkie, that long ingredient list means you're looking at a highly processed product-an edible food-like substance likely to contain more sugar, salt,and fat than your body needs, and very few realnutri ents.C. Don't eat anything containing high-fructose corn syrup (HFCS). Think about it: only corporations ever "cook" with the stuff. Avoid it and you will automatically avoid many of the worst kinds of EFLS, including soda. Think about it: only corporations ever "cook" with the stuff. Avoid it and you will automatically avoid many of the worst kinds of EFLS, including soda.

BUY REAL FOOD.

To make sure you're buying real food: 1. Get your food from the outside perimeter of the supermarket and try to avoid the middle aisles. Get your food from the outside perimeter of the supermarket and try to avoid the middle aisles. In the cafeteria, go for the salad bar or the fruit basket. These places are where you still find fresh plant and animal foods that have only been been minimally processed. In the middle aisles of the store-and in the school vending machines-are where most of the EFLS lurk. In the cafeteria, go for the salad bar or the fruit basket. These places are where you still find fresh plant and animal foods that have only been been minimally processed. In the middle aisles of the store-and in the school vending machines-are where most of the EFLS lurk.2. Don't buy, or eat, anything that doesn't eventually rot. Don't buy, or eat, anything that doesn't eventually rot. A food engineered to live forever is usually full of chemicals. Food should be alive, and that means it should eventually die. A food engineered to live forever is usually full of chemicals. Food should be alive, and that means it should eventually die.3. Shop at the farmers market, through a CSA, or at a farmstand whenever you can. Shop at the farmers market, through a CSA, or at a farmstand whenever you can. Get out of the supermarket, the corner deli, and the gas station, and you won't find those flashy fake foods. Get out of the supermarket, the corner deli, and the gas station, and you won't find those flashy fake foods.4. Be your own food detective. Be your own food detective. Pay attention to where your food comes from (were those berries picked in your state or halfway around the world?) and how it is grown (organic? Gra.s.s-fed? Humanely raised?). Read labels and ask questions. What's the story behind your food? And how do you feel about that story? Pay attention to where your food comes from (were those berries picked in your state or halfway around the world?) and how it is grown (organic? Gra.s.s-fed? Humanely raised?). Read labels and ask questions. What's the story behind your food? And how do you feel about that story?

EAT REAL MEALS.

How you prepare and eat food is often just as important as what you eat. So: 1. Cook. Cook. The best way to take control of your meals is to cook whenever you can. As soon as you start cooking, you begin to learn about ingredients, to care about their quality, and to develop your sense of taste. You'll find over time that, when you prep are and eat real food, fast food gets boring-more of the same old taste of salt, fat, and sugar in every Chips Ahoy! or microwave pizza. There are so many more interesting tastes to experiment with in the kitchen and to experience at the table. The best way to take control of your meals is to cook whenever you can. As soon as you start cooking, you begin to learn about ingredients, to care about their quality, and to develop your sense of taste. You'll find over time that, when you prep are and eat real food, fast food gets boring-more of the same old taste of salt, fat, and sugar in every Chips Ahoy! or microwave pizza. There are so many more interesting tastes to experiment with in the kitchen and to experience at the table.2. Garden. Garden. The freshest, best-tasting food you can eat is freshly picked food from the garden. Nothing is more satisfying than to cook and eat food you grew yourself. The freshest, best-tasting food you can eat is freshly picked food from the garden. Nothing is more satisfying than to cook and eat food you grew yourself.3. Try not to eat alone. Try not to eat alone. When we eat alone we eat without thinking, and we usually eat too much: Just think about how thoughtlessly you can put away a bag of chips or cookies in front of the television or computer, or while doing your homework. Eating should be social; food is more fun when you share it. When we eat alone we eat without thinking, and we usually eat too much: Just think about how thoughtlessly you can put away a bag of chips or cookies in front of the television or computer, or while doing your homework. Eating should be social; food is more fun when you share it.4. Eat slowly and stop when you're full. Eat slowly and stop when you're full. The food industry makes money by getting you to eat more than you need or even want to. Just because they offer a supersized 64-ounce Big Gulp and 1,250-calorie, 5-cup restaurant plate of spaghetti and meatb.a.l.l.s doesn't mean that's the amount you should eat. Take back control of your portions (a normal-size serving of spaghetti is about a cup and a half). The food industry makes money by getting you to eat more than you need or even want to. Just because they offer a supersized 64-ounce Big Gulp and 1,250-calorie, 5-cup restaurant plate of spaghetti and meatb.a.l.l.s doesn't mean that's the amount you should eat. Take back control of your portions (a normal-size serving of spaghetti is about a cup and a half).5. Eat at the table. Eat at the table. I know, it sounds obvious. But we snack more than we dine these days;19 percent of the mealscon sumed in America today are eaten in the car. The deepest joys of eating come when we slow down to savor our food and share it with people welove. The I know, it sounds obvious. But we snack more than we dine these days;19 percent of the mealscon sumed in America today are eaten in the car. The deepest joys of eating come when we slow down to savor our food and share it with people welove. The real real meal-family and friends gathered around a table-is in danger of extinction. For the sake of your family's health and happiness, and for your own, do what you can to save it. You might be surprised how much enjoyment it can bring. meal-family and friends gathered around a table-is in danger of extinction. For the sake of your family's health and happiness, and for your own, do what you can to save it. You might be surprised how much enjoyment it can bring.

Q&A with Michael Pollan

DID YOU EVER EAT PART OF STEER 534?.

My plan was to eat a steak from my steer, but it never happened. I published an article about No. 534 before he was slaughtered, and the people at the feedlot and processing plant were so angry about it that they refused to give me my meat. They thought I had portrayed their business in an unfavorable light, which was true. This happens sometimes when you publish controversial articles.

So I did the next best thing: the night before No. 534 was scheduled to be slaughtered, I went to a steakhouse, ordered a rib eye cooked medium rare, and thought about my steer as I ate it.

The Blair Brothers did send me a check for my steer after he was processed and sold. I made a small profit of $30 on my $600 investment in No. 534.

WHY DIDN'T YOU NAME STEER #534?

I thought about it. In fact my son, Isaac, suggested I name him "Night," since he was black. But I decided that was a bad idea. He wasn't a pet and I didn't want to bond with him. I also didn't want my readers to bond with him, because if they did they might be angry with me when I allow him to be slaughtered.

WOULD YOU EVER GO HUNTING AGAIN?.

I haven't been hunting since my adventure with Angelo and I'm not sure I will do it again. It was a very emotional experience for me, and while I'm happy I did it, and learned a lot from hunting a boar, I don't feel like I need to do it again. Hunting is one of those experiences that it is important to do once-a rite of pa.s.sage. But, like my bar mitzvah, once is probably enough for me. For one thing, I'm such a klutz that if I spent enough time in the woods with a gun, sooner or later someone would probably get hurt.

I have, however, gone mushroom hunting many times since writing the book, and find that I really enjoy it. It's still incredibly hard, but also incredibly rewarding when you find a nice fat porcini or chanterelle.

WHAT WAS THE WORST PART OF KILLING A CHICKEN?.

The worst part of killing a chicken is discovering how quickly you can get used to it, especially when you're on an a.s.sembly (or disa.s.sembly) lines with other people for whom the work is routine. After the fifth or sixth chicken, it felt like a job, and I lost my sensitivity to what was at stake. That scared me.

WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE FOOD?

My favorite food is probably paella, a one-pot dish from Spain that consists of clams, lobster, chicken, and chorizo sausage cooked on a bed of saffron rice. My mother, who makes the best paella anywhere, prepares it once every summer, when the family is together at the beach, so it's a special occasion meal.

LEAST FAVORITE FOOD?.

My least favorite food would probably be organ meats, though I don't mind the occasional taste of pate. I believe you should really eat the whole animal if you're going to eat meat, but most of the organs still gross me out.

HOW ABOUT WHEN YOU WERE A KID?.

As a kid, I loved fast food and could eat three or four McDonald's hamburgers at a meal-not Big Macs, which hadn't been invented yet, but the single-patty ones. I loved the french fries too. I loved eating it all in the car, how the beefy french-fry smell would fill the station wagon! Now the very thought of that makes me a little nauseous.

DID YOU GARDEN WHEN YOU WERE GROWING UP?.

Yes! I loved to garden when I was a kid. I learned how to do it from my grandfather, who had a big vegetable garden that he loved working in every spare moment. Starting around age ten, I planted a vegetable garden of my own behind our house on Long Island, though I didn't call it a garden-I called it a farm. And every time I had five or six ripe strawberries, I'd put them in a paper cup and sell them to my mom.

WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE THING THAT YOU GROW IN YOUR GARDEN NOW?

These days I have a little vegetable garden in my front yard, where the lawn used to be. The best thing growing in it? These yellow cherry tomatoes called "Sun Gold"-they're so sweet that they hardly ever make it to the kitchen. We eat them before they get there.

WHERE, AND HOW, DO YOU SHOP FOR FOOD?.

I live in Berkeley, a food-obsessed city, and that makes eating fresh organic food and gra.s.s-fed meat easier than in some other places. Also, our farmer's market operates fifty weeks of the year, because the weather is so good. (I know, we're very lucky.) I shop at the farmer's market every Thursday, and get most of my produce there; I also buy my eggs and some of my meat and fish there. But we also go to the supermarket every week. There, I try to buy organic, which is increasingly common (even Wal-Mart now sells organic), and I look for local produce too, which shows up in the summer. Some supermarkets now sell gra.s.s-fed meat, but I ask for it even when they don't, as a way to encourage them to stock it.

But I think eating vegetables and fruit is so important that I buy them even when they're not organic-and even when they're not fresh. There's nothing wrong with frozen vegetables, and they're usually a bargain. Some canned vegetables are a great deal too, though they often have too much salt. The key thing? Eat plants (including grains), animals, and fungi as lightly processed as you can find them at the prices you can afford.

HOW DID YOU LEARN TO COOK? HOW CAN I ?.

I'm still learning how to cook. But I started out by helping my mother in the kitchen. She's a great cook and doesn't think of cooking as a ch.o.r.e. I especially loved frying chicken, scrambling eggs, and baking brownies-all magic transformations.

Later on, I bought a few simple cookbooks and learned by trying out recipes that sound appealing-this is something worth trying if your mom isn't much of a cook. Sometimes I'll try to figure out how to make something I've liked in a restaurant, which can be an interesting challenge when you don't have a recipe. But I've learned you can't go too far wrong in the kitchen, and people are more intimidated than they should be, probably because we watch cooking shows on TV that make cooking look like rocket science. As long as you start with good ingredients, don't get too fancy, and taste things along the way, it'll probably come out all right. Baking is different: You really need to follow recipes or you'll end up with stuff you don't want to eat.

WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE RECIPE?

At the moment, it's a trick I learned from Angelo Garro for making poached eggs, which is my favorite breakfast. The challenge of poaching a perfect egg is keeping the thing together-the white part tends to wander off. Here's the trick: Boil water in a shallow pan. Before you crack the egg, sink the whole egg in the boiling water for exactly ten seconds. Then crack the egg into a big kitchen spoon and gently slide it into the water. The egg will hold together, and in three minutes you'll have a perfectly poached egg that you can removed with a slotted spoon. If you want to get fancy, put a few drops of balsamic vinegar on the egg. That's the way they serve poached eggs in Sicily, and it's delicious.

FURTHER RESOURCES.

INTERNET.

100 Mile Diet ( (www.100milediet.org) seasonal food charts for your state are here ) Active Kids Get Cooking ( (www.activekidsgetcooking.org.uk) is a program which promotes healthy cooking and eating in schools throughout the UK BBC Good Food: Get Kids Cooking! ( (www.bbcgoodfood.com/content/knowhow/kids-cooking/1) wants to get kids into cooking. Recipes and tips galore!

Center for Informed Food Choices ( (www.informedeating.org) encourages a diet based on whole, unprocessed, local, organically grown plant foods; their Web site contains a useful FAQ page about food politics and eating well and an archive of other important articles.

Chefsters ( (http://chefsters.com/) is an online club based on the TV show, Chefsters. Members share recipes and other ideas for healthy eating.

Eat Local Challenge ( (www.eatlocalchallenge.com) offers resources and encouragement for people trying to eat locally.