Food, Inc
We Vote Three Times a Day
Everything Food, Inc. taught me — and how far our family has come at the dinner table.
I have to give this one my highest recommendation: watch the DVD, or read the book, Food, Inc. It put words and proof to everything I’d been reading for years — and everything my own gut had been quietly telling me every time I ate meat that hadn’t come from a clean, organic source. It didn’t just inform me. It validated me.
Before I share what it stirred up in me, let me tell you what the film actually teaches — so you know exactly what you’re getting into before you press play.
Food, Inc. (2008, Robert Kenner, with Michael Pollan and Eric Schlosser) exposes the industrial reality behind our wholesome food labels: a few giant corporations using factory methods, cheap subsidized corn making junk food artificially affordable, animals and workers treated as disposable, and lax safety oversight with deadly costs — while cozying up to regulators and squeezing farmers and the poor. It's passionate advocacy (some claims are disputed), but its hopeful close rings true: sustainable, organic farming works, and we vote for it three times a day.
That film got me reflecting on just how far our family has come — and it starts with a Christmas dinner and the difference when homemade.
Three years ago, my husband and his business partner merged their two companies into one. To welcome all the newly combined employees, I volunteered to cook Christmas dinner for the whole crew. And at my suggestion, we — the owners and administrators — put together a menu of organic steak and king crab legs (not the healthiest choice, I’ll admit, since crab is a scavenger), organic potatoes, organic salads, the works.
I remember every doubt beforehand: What on earth will the employees think? But it turned out to be a huge success. Everyone brought their families, everyone loved the food, and the whole night carried this warm, family feeling I hadn’t dared to expect. When my husband opened the evening, he stood up and told the room, “I want all of you to know that the meat you’re eating came from happy cows.” And in my head I finished the thought: — cows that ate grass and roamed freely, the way God intended. I even thought of the one employee who was a vegetarian; I loved knowing that even surrounded by meat-eaters that night, the meat on every plate had come from animals that were genuinely well cared for.
This year, the company Christmas party was held at a well-known restaurant in the area — and it struck me, standing there, how much I’ve changed. When all the different meat options were laid out in front of me, I felt absolutely no desire to taste a single one of them. I’ve learned too much about how that meat is typically raised and handled — how the animals are treated, what they’re fed, and the spoilage and bacteria that can come along for the ride — and knowing all of that, “No, thank you” came easily. I honestly can’t remember the last time I bought meat at a regular grocery store. Every bit of meat we bring home now is organic, from farmers we know and trust by name.
Remember that mother from the film — the one who lost her little boy to contaminated meat? When my kids heard that story, they looked up at me and said they were grateful we buy “the healthy food.” Yes, sweethearts, I told them — it costs more. But your lives are worth that extra precaution, every single time.
A big thank-you to the people who made that film — and a big shame on the giant companies denying us the simple right to know what we’re really eating. (I’ll save the rest of that rampage for a later blog.)
I’m happy to say the last piece of non-organic chicken I ate was cooked for me over a year ago, by a kind woman who was making me dinner. I can still picture the color and texture of that meat — it looked genuinely unappetizing to me — so I took the smallest portion I could tuck into my tortilla and left it at that. Ever since, whenever that same sweet friend offers to make me “something special,” I simply volunteer to bring the meat myself. Problem solved, feelings intact, everybody happy.
We can do something about this — three times a day
Here’s what gives me hope: as consumers, we get to weigh in on the food system three times a day. Every meal is a vote. And you don’t have to overhaul everything overnight. Start small, and let it build.
Thank you — and remember:
We CAN make a difference!
With love and conviction,
Everything Food, Inc. taught me — and how far our family has come at the dinner table.
I have to give this one my highest recommendation: watch the DVD, or read the book, Food, Inc. It put words and proof to everything I’d been reading for years — and everything my own gut had been quietly telling me every time I ate meat that hadn’t come from a clean, organic source. It didn’t just inform me. It validated me.
Before I share what it stirred up in me, let me tell you what the film actually teaches — so you know exactly what you’re getting into before you press play.
First — what is Food, Inc.?
Food, Inc. (2008, Robert Kenner, with Michael Pollan and Eric Schlosser) exposes the industrial reality behind our wholesome food labels: a few giant corporations using factory methods, cheap subsidized corn making junk food artificially affordable, animals and workers treated as disposable, and lax safety oversight with deadly costs — while cozying up to regulators and squeezing farmers and the poor. It's passionate advocacy (some claims are disputed), but its hopeful close rings true: sustainable, organic farming works, and we vote for it three times a day.
That film got me reflecting on just how far our family has come — and it starts with a Christmas dinner and the difference when homemade.
Three years ago, my husband and his business partner merged their two companies into one. To welcome all the newly combined employees, I volunteered to cook Christmas dinner for the whole crew. And at my suggestion, we — the owners and administrators — put together a menu of organic steak and king crab legs (not the healthiest choice, I’ll admit, since crab is a scavenger), organic potatoes, organic salads, the works.
I remember every doubt beforehand: What on earth will the employees think? But it turned out to be a huge success. Everyone brought their families, everyone loved the food, and the whole night carried this warm, family feeling I hadn’t dared to expect. When my husband opened the evening, he stood up and told the room, “I want all of you to know that the meat you’re eating came from happy cows.” And in my head I finished the thought: — cows that ate grass and roamed freely, the way God intended. I even thought of the one employee who was a vegetarian; I loved knowing that even surrounded by meat-eaters that night, the meat on every plate had come from animals that were genuinely well cared for.
This year, the company Christmas party was held at a well-known restaurant in the area — and it struck me, standing there, how much I’ve changed. When all the different meat options were laid out in front of me, I felt absolutely no desire to taste a single one of them. I’ve learned too much about how that meat is typically raised and handled — how the animals are treated, what they’re fed, and the spoilage and bacteria that can come along for the ride — and knowing all of that, “No, thank you” came easily. I honestly can’t remember the last time I bought meat at a regular grocery store. Every bit of meat we bring home now is organic, from farmers we know and trust by name.
Remember that mother from the film — the one who lost her little boy to contaminated meat? When my kids heard that story, they looked up at me and said they were grateful we buy “the healthy food.” Yes, sweethearts, I told them — it costs more. But your lives are worth that extra precaution, every single time.
A big thank-you to the people who made that film — and a big shame on the giant companies denying us the simple right to know what we’re really eating. (I’ll save the rest of that rampage for a later blog.)
I’m happy to say the last piece of non-organic chicken I ate was cooked for me over a year ago, by a kind woman who was making me dinner. I can still picture the color and texture of that meat — it looked genuinely unappetizing to me — so I took the smallest portion I could tuck into my tortilla and left it at that. Ever since, whenever that same sweet friend offers to make me “something special,” I simply volunteer to bring the meat myself. Problem solved, feelings intact, everybody happy.
We can do something about this — three times a day
Here’s what gives me hope: as consumers, we get to weigh in on the food system three times a day. Every meal is a vote. And you don’t have to overhaul everything overnight. Start small, and let it build.
- Buy a little more organic every time you shop.
- Make more meat-free dishes — work your way down to red meat just once or twice a week…then less and less.
- When you do buy meat, choose organic, from a farmer you trust, whenever you possibly can.
- Buy organic eggs.
- If clean raw milk isn’t available where you are, consider going dairy-free.
- And when you do enjoy that occasional organic bite of meat, eat it with reverence and gratitude — the way I believe God intended it to be received.
Thank you — and remember:
We CAN make a difference!
With love and conviction,
Steffi E.
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