Dan Barber

I'm wicked jealous of Dan Barber; not only is he a renowned chef, but damn, can he write! This book, about looking for more sustainable ways of producing, cooking and eating food, manages to balance eloquence with nuance and realism with optimism. Most notably, he urges people (including himself and other chefs) to look beyond the locavore and farmer's market trends, to think more conscientiously about how to nurture the ecosystems and communities behind our food, and to broaden our concepts show more of what we consider food. At the same time, the farmers and researchers he profiles generally don't claim to have any grand solutions, which to me make their efforts more credible and more inspiring. Too bad I work in a preschool and therefore can't afford to eat the way Barber cooks! show less

(8.5/10) Finally- somebody elegantly presents a controversial opinion I've held for a while (at least, it's a hot take in the farming community): organic farming is objectively good on paper, but in practice it has simply become "premium eating" for the privileged. It is not an effective way to change how we eat, or to have a positive impact on the planet.

This book uses interesting anecdotes and examples to flesh out serious issues in food and agriculture. It brilliantly shows that the show more debates and arguments within farming are just as complex as farming itself. As somebody who's main interest is how to create an ecologically-viable way to feed everybody, this book gave me plenty of catnip to play with. However, some things consistently bugged me, especially in the final section (seeds).

To start with the good aspects of it: the author is great. His voice and tone create an entertaining perspective through which complex ideas can be deconstructed. Dan Barber also found an entertaining series of people to examine and put in his this book, making it a little bit less droll then one might expect from a book on this subject. Of every book I've read on environmental and agricultural philosophy (a few), this one is by far the most entertaining. It's also worth noting that I absolutely ADORED the sea section. The discussions of overfishing, aquaculture, bird populations, and the consumption of "undesirable" food... it was incredibly thought provoking.

But there were some frustrating aspects. I understand the need to analyze all sides of an argument, but anybody who tries to discredit the work of Norman Borlaug will make me a little peeved, as any of my friends should know. Barber makes it clear the Borlaug was an incredible man (mentioning multiple times that he saved a billion lives), but also gives a lot of time to theories of how the Green Revolution, which modernized agriculture, might have been the starting point to large agribusiness destroying the planet. It got better as the section continued, as Barber outlined one farmer's belief that we can "have our cake and eat it too", i.e. creating great yields without sacrificing flavor and environmental health.

Barber also did not talk a lot about GMOs, which might be for the best. As much as he skewers the organic movement for it's specific shortcomings, he also is a clear fan of it. Which is fine- I love that organic farming is on the rise. But as he illustrates, and as I have long feared, organic farming is creating an increasing divide, and not really solving larger issues. Genetically Modified Food is one demonized aspect of how we can feasibly "have our cake and eat it too", so leaving that pandora's box closed is probably a good idea. He did refer to the flavr savr tomato as "revolutionary", so that's good enough for me.

There was a lot in this book for me to enjoy. He referenced people I love, including Aldo Leopold's Sand County Almanac, the founding literature of modern environmental thinking. He showed a lot of serious interest, rather than strong opinion. Certain sections showed how his beliefs consistently changed when provided with new information, which is something I always respect from a non-fiction writer. This author isn't a know-it-all, he is proudly willing to learn more. And from that idea, the book accomplishes it's goal. It creates a stimulating look at real, pressing issues, in a cool way. *This would be a great book for somebody looking to get into food issues*.

However, it falls short for me in some ways. Mainly from the niche of the book. It's written from the perspective of a chef, and large parts of the writing is dedicated to stories of high-end cooking, as well as a constant reminder of how important chefs are. I agree that chefs set the standard for what/how we eat, but it got a tad pretentious about half way through the book. Especially for me, somebody who's primarily concerned with helping the impoverished and marginalized, it became annoying to constantly revisit the opinions of wealthy diners that went into his restaurant to pay exuberant amounts of money for organic, fresh food. The book attempts to talk about the future of our food, but fails to pay much attention to the majority of the population that could not afford to eat at his restaurant.

All in all, it was an objectively good book with some excellent information. Very entertaining and educational, albeit not perfect. Some aspects of it were not my personal cup of tea, but many segments broadened my view of food issues, and sharpened my toolbox on these areas. I'm very glad I read it. show less

This week, my newsfeed had a trailer for a documentary that apparently blasts some of the leading environmental organizations for failure to rail against hamburgers. Several other headlines informed me that eating beef results in more greenhouse emissions than driving a car, apparently extrapolating from a study recently published in the journal Climatic Change. And Elizabeth Kolbert writes in the New Yorker of her week-long experiment with the trendy paleo diet and laments the damage so show more much meat eating could have on the climate.

Never in human history have we been presented with such an an abundance of food choices as at the average U.S. supermarket, and never before have we seen so much hand-wringing about what to eat. As Dan Barber reminds us in The Third Plate, only a few generations ago, human diets were largely restricted to what the local region produced. Cuisine and culture were intrinsically linked to place.

In recent years, the farm-to-table movement featuring prominent chefs such as Mr. Barber, has sought to reacquaint diners with the sources of their food. Farmers' markets have proliferated and the term"locavore" is in the dictionary. In my small town, several restaurants proudly list the nearby farms and producers contributing to their menus.

Yet the resulting "second plate" of farm-to-table goodness still closely resembles the "first plate" it aimed to replace, which at the American table is meat-centric and flanked by a limited supporting cast. Mr. Barber envisions a "third plate" representing a sort of nose-to-tail for the whole farm, incorporating and starring crops that currently may not be beloved, or even known, to diners but are important to the ecology of the land. Chefs, he says, can use their skills to create demand for these oft-discarded goodies, from the bycatch of tuna nets to the cover crops of wheat fields.

Few chefs are better positioned to expound on this than Mr. Barber, who incorporates a farm and educational center as part of his flagship restaurant north of New York City. Nearly all of his journeys to investigate spectacular foodstuffs result in an experimental planting or livestock introduction at the farm, and the mouth-watering prose in which he describes these experiments may have some readers vowing to never again cook polenta until they, too, can get their hands on some Eight Row Flint corn.

If this planet is to support 9 billion humans by mid-century without absolutely devastating every other species, we must get over our predilection to "eat high on the hog." Unfortunately, so many previous calls to mend our dietary ways -- whether the motive is to improve health, environment, economy or even mood -- have led many to equate virtuous eating with limitation. Mr. Barber, thankfully, is an immensely talented chef who refuses to sacrifice flavor for virtue, and he makes a convincing case (one I wish I could taste for myself at his restaurant) that such a compromise is unnecessary. show less

In the past decade, I've read many food manifestos, but I think this is the first I've read that was written by a professional chef. As far as Dan Barber's experience and expertise is from my own, I wasn't sure how much I would be able to relate, but my hesitation was completely unfounded. Barber's is a wonderful perspective to have. If you've ever seen Dan Barber give a TED Talk or other keynote presentation, then you know how great of a storyteller he is. He's so good that I'd already show more heard a couple of the stories featured in The Third Plate from watching Barber talks, and reading them again was just as thrilling as when I heard them the first time. The writing is top-notch. He gets into technical agricultural speak, but as a non-farmer retelling how he came to learn much of this stuff himself, he does so in a way that anyone can understand.

For the reader already invested in a food-and-farming revolution, you must read Dan Barber. (For everyone else, read some Michael Pollan first and come back to Barber once you're ready to join the revolution.) show less