Chowing down for better school lunches in Iowa City.Photo: Kurt Michael FrieseAll across the country this past Labor Day, folks gathered for picnics. That's no surprise, of course. After all, it was a holiday, and the weather was grand across nearly the whole continent. But there was something unique about one group of picnics; 307 of them to be exact, in all 50 states. They were dubbed "Eat-Ins" (modeled on the sit-ins of the '60s), and they were a call to action by Slow Food USA

At those picnics, including one right here in Iowa City, more than 20,000 people gathered around tables in parks and farms and school grounds to tell Congress to fix the School Lunch Program. Most of the discussions at these events and in the press afterwards centered on improving the food itself through increased Federal spending and local food initiatives. But there was another topic directly relevant to Labor Day: the call to create green jobs with a "School Lunch Corps."

As the platform promoted by Slow Food states:

We can't serve real food in schools without investing in school kitchens and the people who prepare and serve lunch. This spring, President Obama signed the Serve America Act, which expanded Americorps and reinforced his call for Americans to serve their country. Right now, our nation has an opportunity to train young and unemployed Americans to be the teachers, farmers, cooks and administrators we need to ensure the National School Lunch Program is protecting children's health. President Obama has called for an end to childhood hunger by 2015; let's answer that call by putting Americans to work building and working in school kitchens nationwide.

It bears emphasizing that the School Lunch Corps idea is not an attempt to vilify today's lunch ladies--or squeeze them out of a job. No one at Slow Food is devaluing the hard work of the thousands of people who work in school kitchens, commissaries, and cafeterias. These folks are dedicated laborers, many of them Union members, whose hands are tied by sometimes outlandishly picayune regulations.

For example, to be permitted to serve a simple but healthy dish of red beans and rice in a school cafeteria--according to Iowa City Schools food service director Diane Duncan-Goldsmith--kitchen workers must add meat or cheese. Doesn't matter that the dish is already a complete protein. Regulations, serving no one but dairy and beef interests, insist that main dishes must contain meat or cheese. This raises the cost and the calorie count, but adds little to the nutritional value of the meal.

Most of the food served in school cafeterias comes packaged in paper or plastic or cans, and is shipped in from an average of 1500 miles. Multiply that by the 30 million meals served in schools everyday and the impact on greenhouse gasses and the waste stream become readily apparent.

All this doesn't even touch on the potential health effects of the food our children are eating. The keynote address at our Eat-In was delivered by Rep. Dave Loebsack (D-IA), who sits on the House Education and Labor Committee, the panel with jurisdiction over the Child Nutrition Act reauthorization. Mr. Loebsack emphasized the connection between healthy kids and the future of our entire health care system, noting that one in three kids born after 2000 will contract diabetes before they're old enough to vote; among minorities that number rises to one in two.

Thus a diet that puts more emphasis on whole grains and fresh vegetables, with meat as a side dish or condiment rather than the center of the plate is, as ever, the only healthy, viable alternative. As an example, the dish I brought to our Eat-In was a slight twist on classic tabouleh, with everything but the grain coming from my restaurant's garden (I haven't tried to grow quinoa yet).

Quinoa with fresh veggies--coming soon to a school cafeteria near you? Quinoa Tebouleh
2 cups quinoa, cooked
1 cup green lentils, cooked
1 medium red onion, diced
2 medium ripe tomatoes (1 red, 1 yellow if possible for color), diced
1 cucumber ("English" or hothouse variety preferred), diced
1 sweet bell pepper, seeded and diced
3 cloves garlic, peeled and sliced paper thin
1/2 cup chopped cilantro and/or spearmint
Optional additions: 1/2 cup olive oil; 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

Simply toss all ingredients together, season to taste with salt and pepper, and refrigerate one hour to overnight. Serves 6-8

Note: Quinoa (pronounced KEEN-wah) is a South American grain. It's extremely nutritious and cooks up just like rice. Also, the lentils should be tender but not mushy.

Related Links:

A parable on the National School Lunch Program

White House loads policy initiatives into a few hours of fun at Healthy Kids Fair

Is privatization the answer to the school lunch mess?

Related Links:

Nationwide “eat-ins” show way to a revived National School Lunch Program

Climate-news poem: G8 edition

Gear up for Bike to Work Week

Related Links:

Nationwide “eat-ins” show way to a revived National School Lunch Program

Climate-news poem: G8 edition

Gear up for Bike to Work Week

After days of feasts -- intellectual, social, and culinary -- my mind is too scrambled to put together a more structured column. Instead, here are some impressions and observations from Terra Madre while they are still fresh, written on a train ride between Turin and Florence. There is more to report; look for additional blog posts next week.

"We are the world's largest multinational," declared Carlo Petrini. He was addressing an international crowd of 7,000 food producers, chefs, and activists at Slow Food's biennial gathering in Turin.

The scene had the feel of a United Nations confab. We were assembled in an arena built for the 2006 Winter Olympics. Everyone wore headphones tuned to simultaneous translations in one of eight languages. From where I sat in the nosebleed seats (floor seating was reserved for delegates -- no press allowed), Petrini cut a tiny figure, gesturing expansively as he spoke. But there were several giant television screens suspended high above the crowd, from which I could see the puckish twinkle in his eye as he made his points.

Petrini and his comrades started Slow Food in 1986, aghast at the idea of a McDonald's opening just below Rome's Spanish Steps. They declared a universal "right to flavor" and set themselves the task of defending the diversity of global foodways against encroaching homogenization.

By "largest multinational," Petrini must have meant the global network of "food communities" represented by (but not encompassed by) Slow Food -- and not the organization itself. Amid news of accelerating global financial turmoil, the remark resonated. "The economy of financial wizardry, the spectral economy, is collapsing before us," he declared. "You are the real economy -- the economy of the land." The crowd erupted into applause.

I've heard Petrini speak several times now, and read at his book, Slow Food Nation: Why Our Food Should Be Good, Clean, and Fair. He's a charming but at times maddeningly impressionistic, unstructured thinker. He often expresses himself in florid, elaborate metaphors that seem to go nowhere. He's full of declarations of what "must" happen (we must ensure that food producers receive a fair price, etc.), but light on ideas of how to make things happen. I often find his liberal use of words like "good" and "virtuous" reductive and vaguely defined.

But at this particular speech, I felt like I got Petrini. He brings people together. He creates a sense of community among broadly diverse factions. In the United States and Europe, Slow Food struggles with a reputation for elitism, fending off charges that it's a food-and-wine club whose events price out all but the well-to-do. To be sure, America's wealth was demonstrated by the huge contingent of delegates, numbering some 800 (more than any other nation besides Italy itself). But Petrini assembled at Terra Madre an impressive display of cultural diversity: food artisans and smallholder farmers fighting to protect traditional livelihoods, alongside North American back-to-the-landers striving to revive lost traditions and establish new ones. These were elites, to be sure, only not of the Nieman Marcus variety.

A trip through the thicket of Petrini's metaphors often enough leads to a kind of visionary poetry. He works his magic both among the globe's far-flung food producers, and also between producers and consumers. (His act sometimes falls flat -- as it did in an ill-starred trip to San Francisco in 2007.)

I also felt like I understood Slow Food a little more than I had in the past. Its representatives, including Petrini, sometimes confuse the organization itself with the loose, hydra-headed movement to challenge the hegemony of globalized, corporate-controlled, industrial food. Slow Food does not embody the movement -- but it forms a valuable part. It is in many ways a high-end dining club, but it's also more than that. At its best, it foments solidarity between the various activists, producers, and consumers across the globe working to create on-the-ground alternatives to industrial food. It also provides a vital public platform for cogent, sharp-edged critics of the food system like Vandana Shiva.

"If you haven't noticed yet, Slow Food is about to get political!" announced Erika Lesser, executive director of Slow Food USA. She was addressing the Slow Food USA chapter -- for one day, Terra Madre had broken into meetings of regional and national contingents.

Few could have missed the political turn. Unlike many Slow Food USA events I've been to, there were few or no odes to the transformative power of a perfect peach. Here, speakers focused on how to broaden access to healthy, ecologically raised food.

Josh Viertel, Slow Food USA's new president, set the tone. He announced that the organization would from now forward pursue two main priorities: youth organizing and social justice. "Our food system disproportionately hurts poor people and people of color, and alternatives aren't accessible to those groups," he said.

He said that in the past, the group had focused its rhetoric on values: commitment to "good, clean, and fair food," for example. From now on, it would emphasize rights. "Access to good, clean, and fair food is not a privilege," he declared. "It's a right, and we have to make that clear." That message, he insisted, was the most important one that delegates could bring back to their communities.

He also vowed that Slow Food USA would work to avoid doing something it has been accused of doing in the past: suck the air out the sustainable-food movement by hoarding resources and media attention at the expense of social-justice activists.

As if to demonstrate Viertel's vision, an impressive array of U.S. farmers and food-justice activists took the floor. Representatives of the Coalition of Immokalee Workers gave a brief, hard-hitting take on the dire state of labor conditions in industrial-vegetable farm fields (and increasingly, large-scale organic fields). Ian Marvy, founder and executive director of Added Value (here's a feature I did on them a couple of years ago), also spoke inspiringly. His group operates a variety of youth-oriented food programs in a Brooklyn neighborhood whose median wage lies well below the poverty line, including a CSA and farmers market fed by a three-acre neighborhood farm.

But Will Allen and his daughter Erika of Growing Power stole the show. Growing Power brings healthy food, much of it grown on inner-city farms and garden plots, into low-income neighborhoods in Chicago and Milwaukee. The Allens are widely hailed for their highly productive farming techniques, which range from worm-based composting to aquaculture, as well as for creating skilled, responsible jobs for inner-city youth. Still basking in the glow of his recently announced MacArthur Foundation "genius" award, Will Allen pointed out that economic collapse in inner-city areas had left behind food deserts and exposed people "to the worst kind of food possible and a level of everyday violence that few of you have ever experienced."

Joining the effort to rebuild healthy food economies in such areas is a responsibility for more-privileged people, he said. He added: "I'm glad to see that Slow Food is beginning to accept that responsibility."

Erika Allen wrapped up with a challenge: "How are you fighting racism in your food community?"

Related Links:

Nationwide “eat-ins” show way to a revived National School Lunch Program

Climate-news poem: G8 edition

Gear up for Bike to Work Week

Related Links:

Nationwide “eat-ins” show way to a revived National School Lunch Program

Climate-news poem: G8 edition

Gear up for Bike to Work Week

Related Links:

Top 25 reasons to give a damn about climate change

Global boiling declares war on Thanksgiving

Climate Citizen: Michael Pollan on agriculture and health care

Related Links:

Nationwide “eat-ins” show way to a revived National School Lunch Program

Climate-news poem: G8 edition

Gear up for Bike to Work Week

Related Links:

Nationwide “eat-ins” show way to a revived National School Lunch Program

Climate-news poem: G8 edition

Gear up for Bike to Work Week

Related Links:

Nationwide “eat-ins” show way to a revived National School Lunch Program

Climate-news poem: G8 edition

How do you solve a problem like Silvio?

Related Links:

Grist Exclusive: Will Whole Foods’ new mobile slaughterhouses squeeze small farmers?

It’s Getting Ha! in Here: Maria Bamford

Gore on the Daily Show: extended dance remix

Related Links:

‘Copenhagen Diagnosis’ offers a grim update to the IPCC’s climate science

Top 25 reasons to give a damn about climate change

Global boiling declares war on Thanksgiving

Related Links:

Will Africa’s farmland become a ‘resource curse’?

Top 25 reasons to give a damn about climate change

Global boiling declares war on Thanksgiving

Related Links:

Top 25 reasons to give a damn about climate change

Global boiling declares war on Thanksgiving

It’s Getting Ha! in Here: Maria Bamford

Related Links:

Top 25 reasons to give a damn about climate change

Global boiling declares war on Thanksgiving

It’s Getting Ha! in Here: Maria Bamford

Slow Food Nation -- that grand, sprawling culinary event that seemed to permeate San Francisco over Labor Day weekend -- has passed. Now we can ask: What was it? A brazen display of foodie elitism, as some critics charge? A transformative moment in an ongoing effort to overthrow the industrial food system, as its organizers sometimes hinted?

Slow Food Nation's Taste Pavilion.

Photo: Eater SF

First, the grandeur of the gathering -- organized by Slow Food USA -- has to be acknowledged. Slow Food Nation's Taste Pavilion, dramatically located at San Francisco's bay-side Fort Mason, deserves a place in the history of U.S. food and design. Ensconced in a vast airplane hangar-like space, the pavilion offered rigorously "curated" -- and stunning -- selections of cheese, pickles, charcuterie, coffee, olive oil, liquor, chocolate, beer, fish, and wine. The interior design matched the quality of the food, each station conjured up gorgeously out of reused and reusable materials like wooden pallets and burlap coffee-bean bags and representing the vision of some of the Bay Area's most creative architects. Meanwhile, the outdoor Slow on the Go market at the Civic Center presented a kind of perfect-world food court: huaraches as good as any I've had in Mexico City alongside fantastic coffee, terrific muffletas, killer ice cream, and much more.

The intellectual fodder on offer wasn't bad, either. The event's "Food for Thought" speaker series featured strictly A-list talent: Wendell Berry, Vandana Shiva, Eric Schlosser, Michael Pollan, Raj Patel, and more.

The free zone at Slow Food Nation.

Photo: dreamo

Further, more than any conference I've ever attended, the event exuded sheer ambition. In addition to the glories described above, Slow Food Nation included a lovingly designed and cultivated "Victory Garden," a farmers market that embodied the sheer abundance of San Francisco's celebrated foodshed, and, tucked into the teeming food court, a soapbox from which anyone who wanted could harangue the crowd. These features, I think, were meant to form a populist, accessible counterpoint to the pricy Taste Pavilion, food court, and star-studded panels.

Yet for all the activity and display of culinary, intellectual, and design skill, the question of what Slow Food Nation actually was hung over the event. At points, event leaders seemed to treat Slow Food itself, the international organization that formed in Italy in 1986 to protest a McDonald's in central Rome, as the embodiment of the movement to challenge industrial food. From there, it was a short jump to presenting Slow Food Nation as a kind of watershed moment in the U.S. food movement -- the point in time when public desire and political will for a new food system coalesced.

The olive oil station in the pavilion.

Photo: Andy Delcambre

Meanwhile, on the ground, Bay Area residents grumbled about marginalization and elitism. When I first glanced at the prices for various functions, I thought they seemed reasonable, given that typical conferences run upwards of several hundred bucks for blanket admission. But then again, as a journalist, I rarely have to pay for conferences I attend. If I were a local resident without a professional tie to the event, would I have balked at $65 for the Taste Pavilion, or $25 to attend the flagship panel featuring Berry, Shiva, Pollan, Schlosser, Carlo Petrini, Alice Waters, and Corby Kummer? I guess it would depend on how tight my finances were. And that's the point. While the public spaces at the Civic Center drew a reasonably diverse crowd, the for-pay events seemed uniformly white and well-off.

In the end, I think the vast ambition behind Slow Food Nation formed its weak point. By striving to embody and represent an entire movement -- from "artisinal" food culture to urban agriculture -- the event came off like a dreamer with his head in the clouds, disconnected from the struggle in the streets.

No one quite embodied that attitude like Alice Waters, doyenne of Slow Food USA, iconic figure of the sustainable-agriculture movement since she started her Chez Panisse restaurant in the early 1970s, and Slow Food Nation's intellectual author. I adore Waters' cooking style and respect her work as a pioneering restaurateur and school-lunch reformer; as a political spokesperson, she leaves me scratching my head. Asked at a pre-event press conference about the accessibility issue, Waters gave a riff about the Victory Garden and how it "represents our belief that good, clean, and fair food should be accessible to everyone all the time."

The Victory Garden.

Photo: In Praise of Sardines

Really? Beautiful as it is, the Victory Garden represents tremendous political, cultural, and financial resources. Slow Food Nation convinced the City of San Francisco to allow the garden to be installed on city land, got a prestigious landscape architecture firm involved in its design, and tapped a professional gardening company to help put it together. There's nothing at all wrong with any of this, but Waters seems blind to her own considerable power -- and unaware that other actors in the sustainable-food movement wield much less. And here's the kicker: The Victory Garden is due to be demolished in November; the arrangement with the city is only temporary. The Victory Garden serves as a mighty symbol for the potential of urban public space to be both beautiful and highly productive; as a symbol of accessibility to "good, clean, and fair food," it's a bit of a farce.

But none of this negates the achievements of Slow Food USA or its flagship event. To become the relevant organization that Slow Food USA leaders seem genuinely intent on creating, the group may merely need to (of all things) slow down. Across the county, people of all kinds are challenging industrial food and working to create a more sustainable, just, and, yes, delicious food system. Rather than striving to be the movement around food, Slow Food USA might do better to consider itself part of a much broader and diverse movement.

Brahm Ahmadi.

Brahm Ahmadi, executive director of People's Grocery in West Oakland, crystallized this idea in a recent (pre-event) post on his blog. Slow Food is "currently distracted by its own self-important belief that it should be a big tent for lots of people, rather than simply being an equal member of a much bigger movement or coalition in which the movement itself is the big tent," he wrote.

Instead, Ahmadi argued, the group should "form coalitions in which Slow Food acts as an ally" to groups seeking to create socially just and sustainable food systems in low-income areas. For Ahmadi, that means not trying to speak for such efforts, but rather "leveraging its political and social influence to open doors and generate resources that other groups do not have access to."

Slow Food Nation chose not to highlight the debate around the question of elitism and the food movement at its flagship Food for Thought series. But it did give Ahmadi a forum at its Changemaker Day forum -- weirdly, an invitation-only event. Uninvited, I essentially snuck into Ahmadi's panel on "Reframing the Slow Food Conversation to Support Food Justice."

There, Ahmadi gave a salient example of his problem with Slow Food. Grassroots groups working in the Bay Area's low-income sections like his own People's Grocery had watched in awe and astonishment as Slow Food Nation and its impressive physical footprint took shape, Ahmadi said. The Victory Garden and the Taste Pavilion would be erected and dismantled in the span of a few months, representing tremendous efforts of top designers and artisans, to speak nothing of political muscle and financial resources. Meanwhile, groups like People's Grocery struggle and wrangle for years to get a truck to deliver fresh food in West Oakland.

Josh Viertel.

Photo: Russ Walker

Joining Ahmadi on the panel was Josh Viertel, recently named president of Slow Food USA. I found Viertel's answer to Ahmadi extremely encouraging. Rather than react defensively, Viertel encouraged the audience to read Ahmadi's blog post. Then he admitted that Slow Food USA has a communication problem with low-income communities. He noted the group's well-publicized effort to save heritage turkeys from extinction -- a victory for biodiversity in our rapidly homogenizing food chain -- but acknowledged the absurdity of touting such a victory in low-income communities where people will soon be choosing between buying enough food and paying the heating bill. Viertel seemed determined that Slow Food USA not "suck all the air out of the room" as the sustainable-food movement goes forward.

Viertel may seem an odd choice to rescue Slow Food from its elitist reputation. The group plucked him out of the leafy confines of New Haven, Conn., where he lead the Yale Sustainable Food Project. But broadening Slow Food's focus is precisely his task. By any standard, "good, clean, and fair" food represents no more than 3 percent of food sold in the United States. To really challenge the status quo, the sustainable-food movement needs to expand its base dramatically -- and Slow Food USA, with its considerable cultural and political stature, can be a constructive force in that effort.

Fast Food Nation author Eric Schlosser, a longtime Slow Food USA insider who was prominently featured at the Labor Day weekend event, is already providing an example. At forum after forum at Slow Food Nation, Schlosser drove home a key point: The millions of people who work at vegetable farms, meatpacking plants, and restaurants -- the largest group of employees in the United States -- are ruthlessly exploited and need to be included in any meaningful sustainable-food movement. And he stacked his own Food for Thought session not with celebrated authors, but rather with labor-movement leaders.

I heard Schlosser say off-stage that his single-minded focus on labor made him feel like a "turd in a punchbowl" at Slow Food Nation. In reality, such use of cultural capital is a torch lighting a path toward a truly just and sustainable food system.

Video interviews with Eric Schlosser, Brahm Ahmadi, and Josh Viertel will be coming to Gristmill soon.

Related Links:

Chuck Norris on Copenhagen

Top 25 reasons to give a damn about climate change

Global boiling declares war on Thanksgiving

Related Links:

Top 25 reasons to give a damn about climate change

Global boiling declares war on Thanksgiving

It’s Getting Ha! in Here: Maria Bamford

Related Links:

Chuck Norris on Copenhagen

Top 25 reasons to give a damn about climate change

Global boiling declares war on Thanksgiving

It's going to take me more than just a few days to fully understand the effects and implications of the first Slow Food Nation, held in San Francisco over Labor Day weekend. The brain power on display was impressive enough: Wendell Berry, Vandana Shiva, Michael Pollan, Winona LaDuke, Carlo Petrini, Raj Patel, Eric Schlosser, and other luminaries took center stage at panels. Add to that the myriad of other events and mind-blowing food, and you get a truly unforgettable event for the thousands who attended.

Despite the multitude of free activities at Slow Food Nation, I heard in the weeks leading up to it that it was all too expensive and was further evidence of food snobs run amok. Yet during the event, the chief complaints I heard were that it was too crowded and that the events that did cost money were all sold out. So while accurate numbers on attendance are still being calculated, it was easy to see that attendance exceeded expectations, and that those who appreciated its worth outnumbered those who did not.

As to the elitism charge, while there are those who will not be convinced otherwise regardless of what Slow Food says or does, it simply does not hold up upon close examination of Slow Food's work as an organization on the whole. Does it contain members who are snobs or who occasionally act snobby? With 17,000 members before this event and predictions by some that that number may double as a result of it, yes, there is no doubt that in a sampling that large you will find some -- perhaps quite a few -- "elitists." But to dismiss the organization's important work, from networking rural farmers in Africa to helping revive milpas in Mexico, simply because much of what Slow Food does is academic or expensive is myopic.

Slow Food does not do everything right and will never please everyone, nor is it any form of panacea, nor does it claim to be. It can and has made lives better for thousands of people not just in the U.S. and Italy (where it was founded) but from Bolivia to the Ivory Coast to India by supporting farmers and aiding to reinvigorate local food traditions. Here in the U.S. it raised thousands of dollars to help the farmers and fishers affected by Katrina, then raised thousands more for Midwest flood relief. Already Slow Food USA has turned its attention once more to the Gulf in the wake of Hurricane Gustav.

The event itself was a joy to behold. At one of the free events, called the Soapbox and held adjacent to the Victory Garden in San Francisco's Civic Center Plaza, speakers and performers offered a huge range of ideas, from the political to the poetic (sometimes both), through speeches and dance, drumming and prayer. Especially moving was a performance by peach farmer David Masumoto and his daughter Nikiko of a poem about a hailstorm that wiped out an entire harvest accompanied by the traditional Teiko Japanese drum. Some in the audience wept as they heard the thunder and felt the hail rip the flesh of the peaches.

In the end many people came just for the food, and it was indeed excellent food, from the Indian naan to the Native American Manoomin rice cakes to Iowa prosciutto to abalone to tamales to mufaleta. But they came away with a message, one summarized in the Declaration for Healthy Food and Agriculture, which urges the government to adopt "twelve principles [that] should frame food and agriculture policy, to ensure that it will contribute to the health and wealth of the nation and the world." I strongly encourage you to read it and decide if you want to endorse it.

Amid the divine madness of the event, I didn't have a chance to put together a recipe. But my colleague Bruce Cole, editor of Edible San Francisco, graciously granted me permission to reprint the following delectable recipe for tomato pesto. It originally appeared in the August/September 2008 issue of Edible San Francisco.

Recipe by Rachel Cole

Life in the slow lane.

Photo: Bruce Cole / Edible San Francisco

According to Rachel Cole, the world of Italian pesto extends beyond that addictive green sauce featuring basil. The word pesto, she writes, originates in the verb "to pound," and pesto is a "family of sauces that includes any paste made from pounding together ingredients in a mortar and pestle to meld the separate components and flavors." This one highlights (and concentrates) the flavor of tomatoes, now at the height of harvest over much of the country.

Any extra pesto can be refrigerated up to a week; if freezing, wait to add the raw garlic and Parmesan until thawed and ready to eat.

(Makes about 4 cups -- way more than enough to sauce a 1-pound package of dried pasta such as spaghetti. To sauce pasta, place about a cup of pesto in a large bowl and dump the cooked, drained pasta over it. Toss and taste. If needed, spoon in more sauce gradually, tossing gently and tasting after each addition, until you reach the desired level of flavor intensity.)

Related Links:

Ask Umbra’s video advice on composting

Turn your turkey carcass into a spectacular gumbo

This Friday, don’t just Buy Nothing—use nothing!

Related Links:

Top 25 reasons to give a damn about climate change

Global boiling declares war on Thanksgiving

Climate Citizen: Michael Pollan on agriculture and health care

Related Links:

Top 25 reasons to give a damn about climate change

Global boiling declares war on Thanksgiving

Climate Citizen: Michael Pollan on agriculture and health care