I live and work in California, the farming capitol of the world; hub of agriculture, intersecting food, chefs and farmers. It is the state which produces the most food in the country, home to the world’s smallest and largest organic farms, and boasts the greatest diversity in farming systems and farm workers. Yet the lack of food and agricultural literacy is tremendous, and the bond between the farm worker and the eater is ill understood. Continue reading
My newest wanderlust leads to a volunteer mission in the Dominican Republic. Ever since my tour in Tunisia, International Executive Service Corps (IESC), has coaxed, cajoled and finally secured another foreign assignment. My past efforts made an impact on organic producers with intentions to enter the international market. So as I fly south over the Bermuda Triangle, I admire the magnificent Cumulonimbus clouds over the wide expanse of blue and I ruminate how I can make a worthwhile impact. Continue reading
The agricultural revolution began some 10,000 years ago when one of our ancestors planted a seed, watched it grow and ate its fruit. It was time to stop wandering and plant more seeds. This ancestor, let’s call her Neolithia, was the grandmother of agriculture, from her labor sprung not only farming but civilization and industry. From that first seed to the cheap offerings of today, we are in dire need of an evolution of how we produce food. Continue reading
It was a cold and blustery windy day. The first day of spring had sprung, and Easter had hitherto blossomed. On this windswept afternoon, I did something I seldom do, I committed to sitting down for two hours to watch a moving picture: a movie as my grandparents deemed it, otherwise known as a film. This movie by Michael Moore is his newest and shines a bright spotlight on what life is like in countries that don’t spend an inordinate amount of money on their military. Instead, the wealth of these nations is dedicated to social services, human decency, and happiness, the fair distribution of wealth and of course good food. Continue reading
This is part 2 of a three part series. You can read Bolivian Diaries – Part 1 here.
I fall deeply asleep in the mining town of Oruro, which, at 14,350 feet, is one of the highest places we will visit. The town is relatively wealthy thanks to the copious amounts of silver, tin and lead extracted from the nearby mountain. The streets are newly paved and lined with parks festooned with magical playgrounds of dinosaur and giant turtle-inspired plays-capes. Sculptures made from discarded metals are a common decorative element and reminiscent of Burning Man art. Continue reading