I really loved this book. This is the chosen title for our One Book/One Community read for 2010. Made me really think about where my food comes from. We were already planning to plant a vegetable garden this year and this just enforces our reasons to do that. ( )

An down-to earth ;-) yet inspirational read.

Having read "The Poisonwood Bible," I began reading this novel with a grain of salt, being familiar with Kingsolver's blunt, preachy style. However, I was pleased to see that for every bold claim, she or her husband Steve Hopp were able to back up claims with solid references and evidence. Though fervent believers in local and organic eating, the authors do acknowledge that not everyone has the ability to grow their own food. What they do encourage is for each person to be vocal about organic food in order to influence their grocers, supermarkets, and food vendors. The remarkable thing about this book is the power they believe one person has. Whether you agree or not is up to you; do keep an open mind because much of what they speak seems like old-fashioned common sense. Aren't turkeys supposed to reproduce without our help? Don't we want food that doesn't come from an animal that spent its entire life in a crowded, dark room on a mound of poop? Isn't it kind of fishy that in a country that prides itself on the First Amendment there are strict laws against speaking ill of giant meatpacking companies? These are just some of the issues the Kingsolver-Hopps bring up as they chronicle their year-long experiment of eating locally.

With a romantic Appalachian farm and acres of land in Virgina at their disposal, Kingsolver and family put their beliefs to the test and decide to eat only local products for a year. That means giving up favorites such as bananas (too much fuel is wasted bringing them to the US); only eating foods in season; growing, freezing, and canning their own produce; and raising their own livestock. Besides the hard farmwork, which the family doesn't seem to mind much, and giving up fresh fruit most of the year, the arrangement is hardly displeasing for the authors. Along the way, the book dispenses recipes coordinated to the seasons, and little lectures on the hidden costs of our country's eating habits: from the mounting fuel costs of eating food out of season, to the extinction of heirloom species of produce and livestock as corporations breed only a few species of patented superfood whose sole purpose isn't to live comfortably but to die tastily. (One example used by Kingsolver is our Thanksgiving turkey: bred for giant breast meat, it buckles under its own weight. It's not meant to live long, but to grow fast and look good on our table.)

Kingsolver's heavy-handed writing style can be problematic and oftentimes make the lecture feel more emotionally charged than sensible. Her many metaphors are frequently histrionic and inspired many an eyeroll from me. She's an evolutionary biologist by degree; she needs to stick to the facts and not mangle the prose into unneccesary drama. The facts can speak for themselves!

This novel has characters, from Kingsolver herself, a tireless advocate for eating right, a concerned mother, and enthusiastic farmer. Her passion for seed catalogs is almost contagious through the pages. Her husband, Steven Hopp, is less of a foil for Kingsolver than a willing participant; we don't get a sense of who he is other than the family's breadmaker (literally) outside of his little essays, which are sprinkled throughout the book. Eldest daughter Camille is Barbara Kingsolver, Jr. with her pleas for organic foods that punctuate many a chapter. The real star of the novel is youngest Lily, whose charm jumps off the page as the crafty little entrepreneur of eggs, gathered from her own hens. Together, the family does have a self-satisfaction with their lifestyle that can border on smugness, but they temper this with acknowledgement of their own foibles, such as their need for coffee and olive oil -- two products that are definitely NOT local to their Virginia home.

Altogether, I found this a very informative book. It's definitely made me look hard at my meat choices. Kingsolver argues that the true cost of big-company meat is more expensive in the end, with their fuel costs, disease, and other problems. A flaw in her logic, however, is the fact that many people don't have the resources to buy or save up for organic meat. If they are hungry now and only have a dollar in their pocket, they're going to go for the McDonalds' Value Menu, not wait a week or two until they can afford a small piece of grass-fed cow to cook at home (assuming they're able to.) Kingsolver looks at costs in the end, while the real problem is addressing the costs right now. She has an important message, but she needs to tailor to all people's needs, not just the wealthy and middle class who can afford to be choosy with their food.

In summary: Come for the argument for local eating, stay for the hilarious observations on turkey breeding. ( )

Well, I should have known that I wouldn't like it, based on my last experience with Kingsolver (see the Poisonwood Bible review). And I didn't. Holier-than-thou and boring to boot. Her poor children. ( )

One of the few "year of this and that" books I really enjoyed. Kingsolver's family decides to live off the local area for all food for a year. They raise turkeys/ chickens, bake bread, grow vegetables and fruit and gather anything they don't produce from local farmers markets and sources no more than 100 miles away. The audio was read by the author, and I was engaged from the beginning. By the end, when we get quite a detailed lesson in the sex life of turkeys, I was rolling on the floor laughing, but came away with great admiration for this dedicated and loving family. ( )