It started with a book and a friend, like many things do.
I was about to graduate, and since I luckily picked one of the few majors that had no massive end of course project, I decided to treat myself. The treat: a book by this man named Michael Pollan.
I’d been perusing the web like most collegiate procrastinators do in the weeks leading up to my final finals, when I stumbled upon a no waste family. What a thought — no trash to take out, no smells hovering in the kitchen. And in typical fashion I opened more than a handful of links from this spartan family, one of which belonged to a journalist by the name of Michael Pollan. I, of course, had to read a couple of his pieces, especially since we would soon belong to the same trade.
After losing more than a couple of half hours to this man and his words about farms and food and family wisdom, I decided to take a trip the next morning to my school’s library just to see if I could pick up a bound copy of his thoughts. And sure enough, my small private school’s library had one copy of his latest bestseller, The Omnivore’s Dilemma.
Little did I know the last week or so of my college would be consumed with reading about corn and beef and how our land should really be treated. Thankfully, I had a friend — an RA even — who had spent the last year or so thinking about concepts like sustainability and farming and community. The saddest part about this story, I only had a couple weeks to join her in her composting adventure (which happens to continue on our campus to this day, thanks to her carving out a place for herself on the university’s staff. You’re a dream, Cari.)
So now I’ve begun my own pile in her honor at my first little home as I continue to dig into what food really should look, feel and taste like. This is the beginning of my food fascination.
Hugs and high fives,