Read a good book and rediscover the food chain that respects the land and farming

Food Quality and Eating Behavior

Cooking is an art that not only brings us sensory pleasure but also binds the body tightly to the environment. The most important principle of this art is "balance": the balance between farming and nutrition, the balance between nutritional needs and respect for the environment, and the balance between a grandfather who farms and a grandmother who nourishes. This art uses materials from many different places: farmland, poultry and livestock sheds, forests, grasslands, rivers, oceans. In the kitchen, guided by the demands of health and deliciousness and seasoned by sharing among family and friends, we combine these materials into a unique work of art. The rhythm of three meals a day and the pleasure of the dining table, in any era and in any place, are the two bridges by which people adapt to and accept their surroundings as they create eating behaviors that protect themselves.

We live in a bizarre era. In modern society, virtually all dietary rituals, that is, the behavioral rules that once established a connection between humans and the land that provided them with nourishment, have almost completely collapsed. In an age of aggressive global trade, in an age when global populations and local customs mingle, in an age of population explosion and agricultural revolution, traditional eating habits have also largely disappeared without a trace. Yet eating habits from other places may take root anywhere, or merge with local habits to form new eating behaviors. The exchange of food cultures is truly a wonderful thing, because eating behaviors from different places always bring new discoveries, new flavors, new pleasures and wisdom from afar.

We long for the good old days, but simple nostalgia alone is not enough to completely reject empty calories or chaotic meals. In fact, the good old days were an era of hard labor, from the fields, the vegetable garden, and the livestock pen all the way to our kitchen. A long string of toil and busyness even led us, in order to escape exhaustion, to unknowingly accept industrialized food: fast food, empty calories and prepared foods. Of course, that road filled with grandparents' memories is full of fun, and we are happy to relive the joys of childhood life on some weekend, but it is impossible to do so every day. Because we have different jobs, and at the same time we need more time for entertainment and cultural activities, and we also need more freedom and space.

So for the vast majority of the time, we have only "empty" eating activities. When our eyes are fixed on the television screen and we have no time to notice our dinner, food loaded with empty calories enters our stomach and intestines without our knowing it, along with delivered hamburgers, fried chicken, cola, pizza or sushi. Industrially refined fructose syrup and hydrogenated fats are extremely similar to micronutrient-rich fruits and natural oils, so our body cells will not order them out (for example, vomiting and diarrhea after eating unclean food), but will generously let them into our arteries and into every one of our cells.

Some people believe that as long as they eat organic food, they no longer need to worry about nutritional and health problems. Some children even naively say into a reporter's microphone that since the school cafeteria serves organic fries, of course they can eat as much as they like without worrying about getting fat. This is the emerging dietary faith of our society. Even though we have a strong dietary tradition, we may still become rootless food consumers within just two generations. Once we lose our original selection indicators and expose ourselves to all kinds of advice, then whether it is a well-founded argument or pure nonsense, it can steer our direction.

So we see that in a world where dietary selection indicators have been lost, people desperately demand a new guidance, a new command, telling us what to eat and forbidding us what not to eat. Then, in front of the "those who eat nothing but healthy food" comes a stream of instructions full of "cognitive restrictions." In newspapers and magazines there are the latest research findings in dietetics; on television programs there are reported health tips; some doctor offers a calorie calculation formula online; enthusiastic and professional staff give consultations and answers in organic food stores... Despite all these recommendations and instructions, we are still troubled by hunger and appetite, and on top of that, all kinds of dietary prohibitions are so dull and burdensome that we always suddenly want to relax a little. At such times, if we happen to pass a convenience store or a vending machine, we will casually pick up some snacks or drinks and open the door for empty calories to enter our bodies...

The purpose of writing this book is not, as can be seen in newspapers and on television every day, to launch a new dietary trend and tell everyone some "new secrets" that can keep us slim and nutritionally balanced, nor is it to list a long, detailed inventory clearly marking which foods are good for the body and good for the planet, and which are bad for the body and the planet. What I want to do is to let everyone understand better how the food on the market is produced, and then, on the basis of this understanding, set out again and regain control of the dietary space of the future.

We must strive for better-quality food that is not only more nutritious and more respectful of the environment but also more delicious. These three requirements can be satisfied at the same time, and we sincerely hope that everyone can obtain such food.

Do people really need yet another book full of lists of nutritious foods and dangerous foods, advising everyone what to eat and what not to eat? Or is the real difficulty not in "knowing" what to do, but in actually "doing" it in life? Walk down any street, and anyone at all will say: "Of course I know eating these things is bad for my health!" Not only that, everyone also knows they must diversify their diet, not snack between meals, eat more vegetables and fruits, and so on. But everyone will also say: "These things are really hard to do."

Seen this way, perhaps the real question is not: "What should be done," but: "Why can't it be done?"

The rhythm of three meals and the pleasure of the dining table have long been the two great pillars that regulate our eating behavior. Our sight, taste and smell are like filters that screen out foods beneficial to health for us. If a certain food cannot bring us a delicious feeling, cannot attract us in color or aroma, and cannot let us share happiness with family and friends at the table, then no matter how environmentally respectful or how good for the body its production may be, it cannot enter our dietary space for long. On the other hand, if the source and the quality of a food's production method can be tasted, and if a food's nutritional content and whether it is delicious also differ because of the production method, then each food's "identity certificate," that is, the label recording place of origin and nutritional content and so on, will be increasingly valued.

When ancient dietary rituals have shattered into fragments, to rebuild good eating habits we must rediscover the harmony among the body, food and the land, and demonstrate it through action. Only by eliminating the mediocrity and emptiness of food can the health-protecting and therapeutic effects of food nutrition achieve the best results. Without sustainable nutrition, there is no sustainable health; and without sustainable farming, there can be no sustainable nutrition. There is no doubt that to build our own nutritional health, we must eat food we know, food that has passed inspection, rather than all kinds of "unknown edible items."

To win back our health, we must do these things: make as many people as possible aware of the health-preventive value of food, aware of the importance of eliminating the mediocrity of food, and rediscover the production and distribution chain that links us together, as well as the role each person can play within it. Everything starts with the "consumer." We must pay attention to our quality of life and not give up our right to choose. Do not habitually push the shopping cart toward the "cheapest" shelf in the supermarket and then walk over to the medicine and health food counter. This awareness has gradually been taking shape among the public, and once more people agree and work together, the mass-production consumption model will become a thing of the past.

The responsibility for caring for one's health should originally rest in each person's own hands. And healthy nutrition should also remain in its original places, which are the shelves of the bakery, the butcher shop, the dairy shop and the fruit and vegetable shop, not the medicine collection window of a hospital or the counter of a pharmacy.

Now is the time to let nature return to its original balance, and the medicines used by humans, animals and plants must also return to their exceptional status, to be used only in emergencies.

This is also a critical moment: when we shop, what we should consider is whether we can bring ourselves better nutrition while at the same time saving our suffering planet.

What we want is not at all something that is merely symbolic, not a specially designed little counter in the supermarket with the words "quality nutrition" written on it, displaying some especially expensive foods to sell to those who actively take care of themselves.

The food chain we want is one that can respect the land, farming, animals and human life, respect the balance among all kinds of life, and produce the best food for as many people as possible. (This article is excerpted from "My Plate, My Health, My Planet." By Pierre Weill, translated by Ma Xiangmin, published by Tianpei.)