As the nation’s annual food fest approaches, let’s take a moment to express gratitude for farmworkers, the hard-working field hands who grow and harvest the abundance we’re about to eat on Thanksgiving.

Check out the videos from the recent conference TedxFruitvale: Harvesting Change hosted by the foundation wing of the sustainable-food focused Bon Appétit Management Company (BAMCO). The event, held at Mills College in Oakland, revealed in sharp relief and from first-hand accounts the back-breaking labor of those in the fields, many of whom are still exposed to life-threatening pesticides and labor in shocking conditions. But this day-long event was anything but a downer: The program also highlighted farmworker success stories and alternative ownership models to BigAg.

Read the full story by Civil Eats contributor Sarah Henry at Bay Area Bites.

Photo: Tomato pickers in Immokalee, Florida, by Scott Robertson

In June, Pfizer announced it was ending arsenic-containing chicken feed which no one realized they were eating anyway, but its arsenic-containing Histostat, fed to turkeys, continues. Poultry growers use inorganic arsenic, a recognized carcinogen, for “growth promotion, feed efficiency and improved pigmentation,” says the FDA. Yum.

And in August, Cargill Value Added Meats, the nation’s third-largest turkey processor, recalled 36 million pounds of ground turkey because of a salmonella outbreak, linked to one death and 107 illnesses in 31 states. Even as it closed its Springdale, Arkansas plant, steam cleaned its machinery and added “two additional anti-bacterial washes” to its processing operations, 185,000 more pounds were recalled the next month from the same plant.

Since the mad cow and Chinese melamine scandals of the mid 2000′s, a lot more people think about the food their food ate than before. But fewer people think about the drugs their food ingested. Food animal drugs seldom rate Capitol Hill hearings which is just fine with Big Pharma animals divisions since if people knew the antibiotics, heavy metals, growth promotants, vaccines, anti-parasite drugs and feed additives used on the farm, they would lose their appetite. Besides, people aren’t Animal Pharma’s primary customers anyway and the long term safety of animals drugs isn’t an issue, since patients supposed to die.

One of the late Sen.Ted Kennedy’s last legislative fights was about the overuse of livestock antibiotics. “It seems scarcely believable that these precious medications could be fed by the ton to chickens and pigs,” he wrote in a bill called the Preservation of Antibiotics for Medical Treatment Act of 2007 (PAMTA) which has yet to pass. “These precious drugs aren’t even used to treat sick animals. They are used to fatten pigs and speed the growth of chickens. The result of this rampant overuse is clear: meat contaminated with drug-resistant bacteria sits on supermarket shelves all over America,” said Kennedy.

Because antibiotics make animals use feed more efficiently so they eat less and control disease in confinement farming’s packed conditions at the same time, they are practically the fifth food group. On a turkey farm with five million hens, antibiotics would save almost 2,000 tons of feed a year, says an article in a poultry journal.

And when the FDA tried to ban cephalosporins in 2008, one type of antibiotic crucial for treating salmonella in children, it became apparent just what Kennedy was up against. Two months after the FDA announced a hearing about a cephalosporin “Order of Prohibition” in agriculture, the regulatory action had morphed into a “Hearing to Review the Advances In Animal Health Within The Livestock Industry” thanks to lobbyists from the egg, chicken, turkey, milk, pork and cattle industries.

“Order of Prohibition”… “Hearing to Review the Advances In Animal Health Within The Livestock Industry,” same idea, right?

At the House Subcommittee on Livestock, Dairy, and Poultry hearings [PDF], the National Turkey Federation’s Michael Rybolt defended antibiotics as a cost savings to consumers. “The increased costs to raise turkeys without antibiotics is real,” he said. “Today at retail outlets here in the D.C. market, a conventionally raised turkey costs $1.29 per pound. A similar whole turkey that was produced without antibiotics costs $2.29 per pound. With the average consumer purchasing a 15 pound whole turkey, that would mean there would be $15 tacked on to their grocery bill.”

Conventionally grown turkeys are even a better deal when you consider the cost of antibiotics!

And, antibiotic-based turkey farming is downright green, said Rybolt, calling 227 acre turkey operations, “small family farms.” Without them, more land would be needed to grow crops and house the animals because of the “decrease in density.” And, with 175,550 more tons of feed needed, there would be “an increase in manure.”

When the FDA capitulated to industry and turned the cephalosporin prohibition into a salute to animal “advances,” former Kansas governor and former dairyman John Carlin, asked, “What changed in less than five months? Certainly the problem hasn’t gone away.”

This month, the FDA also rejected petitions to ban human antibiotics like penicillins, tetracyclines and sulfonamides in livestock filed by the Center for Science in the Public Interest, Environmental Defense, the American Academy of Pediatrics, the American Public Health Association, Food Animal Concerns Trust (FACT), and the Union of Concerned scientists, some filed over 12 years ago. Why?  ”FDA cannot withdraw approval of a new animal drug until the legally-mandated process,” said an FDA spokesman. The process includes an “evidentiary hearing,” perhaps like the cephalosporin advances.

Of course germs in turkey and other meat, even antibiotic resistant germs, are neutralized by cooking–but drug residues are not. A report last year from the USDA’s inspector general accuses U.S. slaughterhouses of releasing products to the public with excessive drug levels in them and charges that, “The effects of these residues on human beings who consume such meat are a growing concern.”

Nor are the antibiotics just in the meat! Scientists at the University of Minnesotafound antibiotic residues in corn, green onions and cabbage after growing them on soil fertilized with livestock manure. The drugs siphoned right up from the soil in just six weeks.

A quick look at the Code of Federal Regulations for turkey drugs does not whet you appetite for Thanksgiving. There are several arsenic turkey drugs approved to provide an, “increased rate of weight gain and improved feed efficiency,” say the official guidelines. But they are also “dangerous for ducks, geese, and dogs,” and must be discontinued,  ”5 days before slaughtering animals for human consumption to allow elimination of the drug from edible tissues.” Whew.

Halofuginone, another drug given to turkeys to kill pathogens, “is toxic to fish and aquatic life” and “an irritant to eyes and skin,” says the Federal Code. “Avoid contact with skin, eyes, or clothing” and “Keep out of lakes, ponds, and streams.” Bon appetit.

Drug-based farming has cut the time to “grow” an animal almost in half while doubling the market size of the animal itself.  For example, chickens were once slaughtered at fourteen weeks, weighing two pounds and are now slaughtered at seven weeks, weighing four and six pounds.

But the Brave New food techniques come at a price because the animals’ organs can not always keep up with the metabolic frenzy. Birds “fed and managed in such a way that they are growing rapidly,” are at risk of sudden death from cardiac problems and aortic rupture, say poultry scientists.

Growth drugs in turkeys may also “result in leg weakness or paralysis,” says the Federal Code, a side effect that a turkey slaughterhouse worker reports firsthand. Many turkeys arrive at the House of Raeford, in Raeford, NC with legs broken or dislocated, he told me in an interview and, “When you try to remove them from their crates, their legs twist completely around, limp and offering no resistance.” The turkeys, “must have been in a lot of pain,” says the worker, but they don’t cry out. “In fact the only sound as you hang them, he says, is the “trucks being washed out to go back and get a new load.”

The undercover employee’s reports of the “live hanger” culture at the House of Raeford, in which workers pulled the heads and legs off turkeys when they were stuck in crates and worse, led to Denny’s suspending its business from Raeford, the nation’s seventh largest turkey producer. The slaughterhouse is also infamous for a chlorine spill that killed a worker in 2003, an ammonia spill that evacuated  two towns the next year and a murdered worker in 2006.

Still, the mother of all turkey drugs is the asthma-like drug ractopamine, marketed as the “Medicated Tom Turkey Feed” Topmax. Approved for turkeys only two years ago, figures for Topmax use in turkeys are not yet available but the same drug is now used in 45 percent of U.S. pigs and 30 percent of ration-fed cattle.

There are two reasons ractopamine has raised safety questions. One is that itslabel reads, “WARNING: The active ingredient in Topmax, ractopamine hydrochloride, is a beta-adrenergic agonist. Individuals with cardiovascular disease should exercise special caution to avoid exposure. Not for use in humans. Keep out of the reach of children. The Topmax 9 formulation (Type A Medicated Article) poses a low dust potential under usual conditions of handling and mixing. When mixing and handling Topmax, use protective clothing, impervious gloves, protective eye wear, and a NIOSH-approved dust mask. Operators should wash thoroughly with soap and water after handling. If accidental eye contact occurs, immediately rinse eyes thoroughly with water. If irritation persists, seek medical attention. The material safety data sheet contains more detailed occupational safety information. To report adverse effects, access medical information, or obtain additional product information, call 1-800-428-4441.”

The other reason is that ractopamine is not withdrawn at slaughter. In fact, it is begun as the animals near slaughter and started during turkeys’ last 14 days. It is actually pumping through their systems as they arrive on the killing floor.

Like antibiotics and arsenic, ractopamine is given to turkeys to make them grow faster. It is similar to clenbuterol, a performance enhancing sports drug that is banned in the US, for both humans and livestock, and elsewhere. But ractopamine is also banned in Europe, Taiwan and China, where 1,700 ractopamine “poisonings” were reported and ractopamine-produced pork was seized in 2007. (You have to worry when China calls a food unsafe.)

Ractopamine caused actual riots in Taiwan in 2007 when 3,500 Tawainese pig farmers, some carrying pigs, threw dung and rotten eggs at police and military soldiers over the rumor that a ractopamine ban would be lifted.  ”Get out, USA pork” and “We refuse to eat pork that contains poisonous ractopamine,” they chanted for hours according to Taiwan News.

Reports of ractopamine’s lack of safety are not hard to find.  In 2009, theEuropean Food Safety Authority (EFSA) termed ractopamine a cardiac stimulator. Ractopamine residues “represent a genuine risk to consumers,” wrote a medical  journal article, citing “long plasma half-lives, and relatively slow rates of elimination.” And a report from Ottawa’s Bureau of Veterinary Drugs says that rats fed ractopamine developed a constellation of birth defects like cleft palate, protruding tongue, short limbs, missing digits, open eyelids and enlarged heart.

The FDA is well aware of ractopamine’s downside. In 2003, three years after the drug was approved for use in U.S. pigs, the FDA accused its manufacturer, Elanco, of withholding information about ractopamine’s “safety and effectiveness” and “adverse animal drug experiences” in a fourteen-page warning letter.

Elanco, said the FDA, failed to report furious pig farmers phoning the company about “dying animals,” “downer pigs,” animals “down and shaking,” “hyperactivity” and “vomiting after eating feed with Paylean,” and also suppressed clinical trial information. But, thanks to same probable lobbying that reversed the cephalosporin ban, the FDA approved ractopamine for cattle the following year and for use in turkeys in 2009! Last year, the FDA enlarged the approval for cattle.

Turkey meat produced with ractopamine is not the same as normal meat byElanco’s own admission! “Alterations” in muscle were seen in turkeys fed ractopamine like an increase in “mononuclear cell infiltrate and myofiber degeneration,” says its 2008 new drug application documents. There was “an increase in the incidence of cysts,” and differences, some “significant,” in the weight of organs like hearts, kidneys and livers. (“Enlarged hearts” had been seen in test rats feed ractopamine in the Canadian studies.)

Still, ractopamine, like antibiotics, is being hailed as “green” and for lowering the carbon footprint. It has “positive environmental benefits for livestock producers in terms of decreased nitrogen and phosphorus excretions,” extols one journal article. It results in a, “reduced amount of total animal waste,” unless, of course, you count the manure coming from Big Pharma.

 Originally published on AlterNet

“Heritage” has become a buzzword for discriminating home cooks wondering what bird should grace their Thanksgiving dinner table this season. But while conventional supermarket turkeys cost about $1.50 per pound, heritage turkeys can fetch up to $10 per pound, a considerable price difference that raises eyebrows for many shoppers. So, what’s all the fuss about?

Bill and Nicolette Hahn Niman of BN Ranch in Bolinas, California, have made a point of educating eaters about the value of heritage turkeys, as well as the hidden costs of commodity turkey farming. “I want people to understand the difference and why it costs more,” says Nicolette Hahn Niman, who is also an environmental lawyer and author of the book Righteous Porkchop. “Obviously, they can make their own choice, but it’s an informed choice.”

To understand why heritage birds command a higher price, you have to know that it’s not just a different breed you’re paying for. It’s the additional time and care they take to raise and the fact that heritage turkeys tend to be raised more humanely than conventional turkeys, with space to roam and access to pasture.

According to the USDA, Americans eat about 45 million turkeys for Thanksgiving each year, 99 percent of which are Broad Breasted Whites. These birds have been bred for a heavy breast and rapid growth. As a result, they experience a myriad of health and mobility issues as they mature, including the inability to fly and, in some cases, walk. They cannot mate naturally, so breeders must use artificial insemination for reproduction. In short, if left to nature, the modern turkey would not survive.

Your typical Thanksgiving turkey is raised in a high-density confinement facility, in which it endures overcrowding, poor sanitation, and lack of access to outdoor space. The waste from these industrial operations places a heavy environmental toll on the surrounding landscape. But a growing number of ranchers are raising birds in a more sustainable way.

Back to Nature

At BN Ranch, the turkeys have room to roam. The Nimans have been breeding pasture-raised turkeys for the last five years, after acquiring heritage stock from Good Shepherd Poultry in Linsborg, Kansas. Their flock consists of Bourbon Red, White Holland, Spanish Black, Narragansett, and Standard Bronze, with a fair amount of cross-breeding. In contrast to the Broad Breasted White, heritage turkeys are older breeds, closer to turkeys found in the wild. They are able to reproduce naturally and are healthier, leaner, and more active birds, well-suited to an outdoor environment.

Norman Gunsell of Mountain Ranch Organically Grown in Calaveras County began raising turkeys at age 15, when his family moved to Mountain Ranch to take over a turkey farm. They raised thousands of turkeys free-range, but, because they were in a contract with a large corporation, they did not control which breeds of birds they raised.

Nowadays, Norman and his wife, Aimee, breed their own small flock of pastured Bourbon Red, Black Spanish, and Narragansett turkeys. The birds coexist with wild turkeys that find their way onto the property. “Our turkeys intermingle with them on occasion, but they prefer to roost in our barnyard every night,” Norman says.

Price vs. Value
Breeding turkeys and raising them on pasture requires more labor and hands-on care, which adds to the grower’s costs. “We’re very intimate with the turkeys throughout their life,” Norman says. (You can learn more about the Gunsells’ turkeys here.)

There are additional expenditures associated with raising heritage turkeys. Since traditional breeds grow more slowly than Broad Breasted Whites, they can take twice as long to reach full size, doubling the costs of overhead and feed. In addition, the Gunsells’ birds are certified organic and thus eat only organic, GMO-free grain, which is more than twice as expensive as conventional feed.

Both the Nimans and Gunsells process their birds at small slaughterhouses and opt for air-chilling, a slower (and costlier) but more sanitary process than the chilling baths used by industrial processors. Water-chilling dilutes the meat’s flavor, since water can comprise up to 12 percent of the finished turkey’s weight. In contrast, air-chilling preserves the meat’s richness and makes for better brining.

While health, animal welfare, and conservation are factors for choosing humanely raised heritage birds, for many eaters, the ultimate motivator is taste. “I would say the flavor is richer, and the meat is a finer grain,” says Gunsell. “And they’re juicy and delicious as can be.”

The Nimans realize that not everyone can afford to pay a premium for heritage, so they offer some Broad Breasted Whites, raised the same way as their heritage birds. They’ve witnessed the genetic challenges of these birds first-hand. “We see that these turkeys are not built as well as the heritage turkeys, even when you give then all the advantages of good husbandry,” Niman notes.

As consumer awareness and demand grows, the Nimans hope to focus exclusively on heritage birds. “If you really make good use of the all the meat and bones, it’s not as big an expenditure as it seems,” Niman says. “Think of it as something really special that you’re not going to have every day.”

To find a heritage turkey in you area, check out the Slow Food USA Thanksgiving Guide.

A version of this article originally appeared in the CUESA Newsletter.

Photos:  Marin Sun Farms, BN Ranch, and Mountain Ranch Organically Grown, respectively.

But if Thanksgiving is truly about offering gratitude for what we have, it seems fitting to also be grateful to the turkey that many of us will eat for dinner. We ought to think about how that turkey lived before ending up on our tables. With that in mind, let’s first take a look at the life of a turkey in an industrial farm.

Turkeys on factory farms are hatched in incubators mostly on large farms in the Midwest or the South. A few days after hatching, turkeys have their upper beaks snipped off. Once the beak is removed, the turkey can no longer pick and choose what it wants to eat. In their natural environment, turkeys are omnivores. But in a factory farm, turkeys are fed a steady diet of corn-based grain feed laced with antibiotics.

Industrially produced turkeys spend their first three weeks of life crammed into a brooder with hundreds of other birds. In the fourth week, turkey chicks are moved from the brooder to a giant window-less room with 10,000 other turkeys where bright lights shine 24 hours a day. With the lights constantly blaring, natural sleeping, eating, and fertility patterns are completely disrupted and the turkeys are, for the most part, kept awake and eating non-stop. Turkeys have an instinct to roost, or to clutch something when they sleep, but on the floor of a crowded room there is no such opportunity. If this is starting to sound like torture to you, you’re on the mark.

As a result of these unhealthy and crowded living conditions, farmers must feed the turkeys a constant supply of antibiotics. Pesticides are also widely used to inhibit the spread of disease. Antibiotics are also known to promote weight gain in farm animals and this connection is being made in humans now as well. In an effort to maximize the more profitable white breast meat, farmers have genetically selected and bred the white broad breasted turkey, which become so top heavy that they can no longer stand or reproduce and as a result, all industrial turkeys are created by artificial insemination. Turkeys are then brought to slaughter, often in a brutal way.

If that wasn’t enough to make you reconsider your Butterball, there’s more. Thanksgiving is also a time when we honor the abundance of the harvest represented by the bounty on our tables. But supporting a Big Turkey farm (or any factory farm) contributes to the devastation of our natural environment and imperils the safety of our food supply.

According to the USDA, factory-farmed animals in the U.S. produce 61 million tons of waste each year–130 times the volume of human waste. The Environmental Protection Agency reports that hog, chicken, and cattle waste has polluted 35,000 miles of rivers in 22 states and contaminated groundwater in 17 states. Polluted runoff from factory farms and other industrial farms is the biggest water pollution problem in the U.S., according to the EPA.

Human health is impacted in other ways by factory farming. Just this past August, Cargill announced a recall of 185,000 pounds of ground turkey due to Salmonella contamination. With recalls and food-borne illnesses on the rise as a result of conditions in factory farms, it seems wise to avoid these foods for that reason alone.

Factory farmed meat is also implicated in long-term health consequences. Resistance to antibiotics is now a growing concern among many in the medical field and it is largely due to the 29 million pounds administered to factory-raised animals every year. As it stands today, one out of six cases of Campylobacter infection, the most common cause of bacterial food poisoning, is resistant to the antibiotic most used to treat it. And nearly all strains of Staphylococcal infections have become resistant to penicillin, while many are developing resistance to newer drugs as well. Indeed, 80 percent of all antibiotics used in this country are used on factory-farmed animals according to an FDA report.

And finally, there is the nitty-gritty of nutritional value in these factory-farmed foods. Studies show that pastured-based meat and dairy are far more nutritious than their conventional counterparts. They are richer in antioxidants; including vitamins E, beta-carotene, and vitamin C and contain far more Omega-3 fatty acids. Turkeys that are raised on grass and allowed to roam around and practice normal turkey behavior are healthier, safer to eat, good for the environment, and get to live a happy life. Our best option is to eat high quality meat and a lot less of it.

So in the spirit of Thanksgiving, let’s be grateful to the turkey that we’re eating and opt out of supporting a system of abuse and environmental destruction. Eat a pasture-raised turkey or make a vegetarian alternative for this year’s Thanksgiving feast.

Eat Wild is a valuable resource for pasture-raised meat and animal products. Brooklyn Based also lists pasture-raised turkeys available for sale in New York City. Slow Food USA has information and resources for heritage breed turkeys. Meatless Monday offers 10 tips for cooking a meatless Thanksgiving.

A petition has been created by Occupy Big Food to tell Butterball—the number one producer of turkeys in America—that Americans are no longer going to purchase turkeys that are inhumanely treated, or support a factory-farm system that creates dire environmental and health consequences. Please go to Occupy Big Food for more information and sign the petition here.

Many people consider Thanksgiving a marathon. For my large family who entertains all year long for the Jewish holidays, it’s more of a brief jog around the block. When I was a kid, my family of six often cooked and ate meals with my aunt, uncle and my four cousins who lived across the street. In my world, cooking a turkey feast for 20 is called Sunday Dinner.

You may think we are a family of trained chefs or, at the very least, had some extra help. But neither was the case. The adults realized early on that they had a crew of sous chefs already in-house. They may be barely three feet tall, but kids are often an incredible source of energy, creativity, and assistance in the kitchen.

People don’t always believe me when I tell them that I teach kids as young as two years how to cook. Yet, historically, children have participated in many aspects of food preparation from planting and harvesting crops to prepping and cooking multi-course meals. The frustration many modern parents feel during meal time, when their kids reject dinner or won’t come to the table, can often be alleviated by simply including them in the meal preparation. Kids feel good when they have a job. And they especially love the idea of feeding other people. Cooking together is also an excellent way to expand their palates and expose them to nutritious foods.

Thanksgiving is the perfect time of year to get everyone in the kitchen–even the little ones can be given simple tasks like juicing a lemon or mashing potatoes.

It’s a win-win for everyone. The adults have extra help in the kitchen, kids get to feel important while learning something new, and everyone gets to spend quality time together.

Here are a couple of recipes from my new cookbook, Easy Meals to Cook with Kids, along with instructions on how to include kids of all ages in preparing two tasty appetizers.

Tangy Tzatziki (Cucumber and Yogurt Dip)

If kids can dip it, they’ll eat it! This kid-friendly dish tastes better the longer it marinates, so plan on making it a day or two before your holiday meal. Traditional tzatziki calls for draining the yogurt and cucumber for at least half an hour but this is a much quicker recipe and turns out just as good.

1 cup plain whole milk yogurt or Greek yogurt
½ cup sour cream
½ English cucumber, grated (about 1 cup)
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice (about 1 lemon)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon garlic, minced (about 1 clove)
2 teaspoons fresh dill, chopped (or 1 teaspoon dried)
½ teaspoon kosher salt or sea salt
Freshly ground pepper to taste

KIDS 6 and up: Drain the yogurt of excess liquid by carefully tipping the container
over the sink. Scoop the yogurt into a medium-sized bowl, add the sour cream, and stir.

KIDS 2 and up: Gather the grated cucumber into your fists and squeeze out as much liquid as you can until it’s drained of moisture. Add the cucumber to the yogurt and sour cream mixture. Stir in the vinegar, lemon juice, olive oil, garlic, dill, salt, and pepper and combine well. Serve immediately at room temperature with Crispy Pita Chips or marinate in the refrigerator for a few hours so that the flavors blend.

Prep time: 20 minutes Total time: 20 minutes
Yields: 2 cups
Recipe from Easy Meals to Cook with Kids by Julie Negrin © 2010

Crispy Pita Chips

2 whole-wheat or white pita pockets
3 tablespoons olive oil
Kosher salt or sea salt to taste
Optional: minced garlic or dried herbs such as oregano, basil, parsley

ADULTS: Preheat the oven to 350ºF degrees.

KIDS 8 and up: On a cutting board, carefully slice each pita into eight triangle-shapes with
a pizza cutter or a knife. Pull each triangle in half so that one pita pocket will yield a total of
16 pieces. Lay the pita pieces close together on a greased baking sheet (or one lined with
parchment paper). Pour the olive oil into a small bowl.

KIDS 2 and up: Brush each piece of pita generously with olive oil using a pastry brush.
Sprinkle with salt (and herbs and garlic, if using).

ADULTS: Bake the chips for 12-14 minutes, or until crispy and golden-brown around the
edges. Store the pita chips in a sealed container or bag at room temperature for up to 4 days.

Prep time: 10 minutes Total time: 25 minutes
Yields: 32 chips
Recipe from Easy Meals to Cook with Kids by Julie Negrin © 2010

There are things we’ve been doing for almost all of human history almost everywhere that we don’t want to do now…we kept other humans as slaves and we treated women as second class citizens, and we don’t do it anymore. We overcame it, and when we look back at those things that we did, we look back with shame… and I think the farming system we have now… the dominant kind of farming system, the kind that produces 99% of the animals we eat, is something that we are going to look back on with shame.

He got some other factoids out to the masses, too, like that 50 billion animals are being raised for meat in the world every year, and that as China increases its meat-eating, that number could double. He added that 99% of these animals are raised in factory-farmed conditions. Though Foer is a vegetarian, he said he didn’t think that absolutes were a productive way to produce change.

Foer’s book has been the focus of a lot of media attention for his in depth research and for the ethical questions it raises about the way we treat the animals we raise for meat. Two weeks ago he was on the television program Ellen (Ellen DeGeneres is also a famous vegetarian), and ended up starting a debate on the New York Times Green Inc. blog after he linked H1N1 to concentrated animal feeding operations (CAFOs) — the possibility of which the mainstream media has for the most part ignored.

Vegetarianism has even made a foray onto the op-ed pages of the New York Times of late. A couple weeks back, Nicolette Hahn Niman, a vegetarian, environmental lawyer, and rancher, penned an op-ed warning the food movement that condemning meat-eating could be overly simplistic, taking the view that asking people to decrease meat consumption would not be as effective as asking them to buy ethically raised meat. She promptly drew criticism at Treehugger and The Atlantic (to which she responded with a rebuttal). Another op-ed contributor this past Sunday in the Times focused in specifically on the politics of veganism. It seems this discussion, taken into such public forums, shows that the conversation around plant-based diets, and the ethics of eating meat — in an era when great trespasses in animal welfare are occuring — is coming into its own.

Each year from that time, with the exception of one year during the Great Depression, every president issued a similar proclamation on the same day. In 1941 the Congress formerly established the holiday we know today. So we have a long history of giving thanks, and I am grateful for that. It is an important social and civic act too little appreciated in our time.

Maybe it is because so many of us feel things have gotten off track. Right or left, urban or rural, rich or poor, most all of us seemed perpetually perturbed by the state of the world, the nation, or our communities. As a consequence, we are adept at, blaming, attacking, and/or ignoring, particularly when directed at leaders. It is easy for us to forget our role in the many messes and to blame “them,” the damn leaders.

Particularly as activists, we are constantly asking for change. There is always more to be done, and often, what is getting done is not good enough. But we too rarely stop to acknowledge the good that is taking place.

Roots of Change (ROC) has decided that this Thanksgiving season is the perfect time to pause and show our gratitude to the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) for taking an unprecedented step towards making a sustainable regional food system a real priority through the “Know Your Farmer, Know Your Food” initiative. We have just launched a letter writing campaign to offer thanks. I am not shocked, but a bit disappointed that we have gotten negative comments about sending a positive message to Secretary Vilsack and Deputy Secretary Merrigan.

ROC understands that there are still many issues that are not getting addressed by the USDA, that contradictions in policy and message exist, and that there are ways that “Know Your Farmer, Know Your Food” could be improved. What can one realistically expect in this day of polarized politics in which corporate interest too often controls debate.

The bottom line, though, is that we want to acknowledge that the USDA is making a real, risky and unprecedented effort to support regional food systems. Regional food systems are the best road to agricultural and food literacy I can image right now. They will help sustainable farmers and ranchers, the healthcare system and local economies. Yet, we must realize that many industrial-scale-cheap-food manufacturers who benefit from subsidies and over production of undifferentiated commodities are seeking to undermine this recent initiative.

Who could argue that the situation is not much improved? Think about what it was like 18 months ago. USDA leadership did not discuss local, organic, sustainable, and a focus on healthy food; they avoided these topics. If our movement is not thankful for the leadership having ears to hear our message, then we must begin to question our real motivation. Are we merely contrarian? Are we so into combat that we cannot acknowledge and celebrate victory? Are we unable to see the risks that new leadership is taking and to show support for what is lonely and exhausting work?

I think not. I believe the good food movement is primarily made of people who appreciate hard work, who empathize with those who take risks, who appreciate acts that build cohesion and community. I know this because the good food movement clearly appreciates the farmers, ranchers and processors who produce healthy food. And clearly the leadership of USDA is doing the same three things through their important initiative.

ROC is betting that lots of folks, in the best tradition of America’s greatest leaders, will hit the link above and send a message of thanks to the USDA. Once in a while just saying thank you is a good thing.

When I moved to the country this past spring, I breathed a sigh of relief for the natural environment and abundant animal life surrounding me. Gophers are everywhere—supposedly they ran the Russians out of Sonoma County—their wild escapades are evident across the dimpled landscape of the 80-acre organic farm I call home. Jack rabbits run through the olive groves and coyotes cry their lonely songs at night.

Dozens of birds encircle the farm: owls, hawks, crows, blue birds, hummingbirds, robins. Their songs and dances endlessly entertain. I’ve been graced by fox, deer, badgers, skunk, and raccoons, not to mention the neighbors’ chicken, ducks, sheep, goats, horses, llamas, and ostrich. And, I’ve fallen madly for the cows in the grassy field across the way. The glossy girls do a little jig when they see me coming with my bucket of kitchen leftovers and garden waste, which I should be saving for compost.

Nothing prepared me, though, for the wild turkey who planted herself firmly in my front yard the first week I arrived. Although the farm is deer-fenced, a small hen kept showing up in the bushes near the gate. I kept shooing her over the fence, thinking I was helping her to meet up with the flock (or “rafter”) down the road. A few minutes later, she would hop back over the fence, effortlessly flying and gliding back to her same spot. Finally, I investigated her perch: a nest, filled with several large turkey eggs. Oh my; turkey babies!

I respectfully kept my distance, but the next morning, I noticed that one of the eggs had rolled out of the nest and into the garden. I panicked. What to do? Touch it and risk her rejecting the egg, or contaminating her whole nest? Leave it and know that one of the night animals would undoubtedly take it? I decided to let nature take its course and leave the egg alone. In the morning, it was gone. I sighed. I wasn’t a very good guardian.

Several weeks later, the eggs were gone and I saw a small rafter of turkeys making their way across the road. Hallelujah! The fuzzy poults were plentiful and beautiful and the mother hen watched cautiously over them. I watched with fascination for weeks as the brood grew up and interacted so gracefully with each other and their natural environment. In Jonathan Safran Foer’s new book, Eating Animals, poultry farmer Frank Reese writes about his life long relationship with turkeys and his observation of this relationship:

I just always loved the beauty of them, the majesticness. I like how they strut…I love their feather patterns. I’ve always loved the personality of them. They’re so curious, so playful, so friendly and full of life….Having been around turkeys for almost sixty years, I know their vocabulary….The mother turkey is amazing to listen to. She has a tremendous vocal range when she’s speaking to her babies. And the little babies understand….Turkey’s know what’s going on and can communicate it—in their world, in their language.

Now, more than half a year later, the sassy teenagers pretty much rule the roost of our country road. All of the neighbors slow down to let them pass as they make their rounds and everyone keeps a watchful eye on the birds. Every day, the turkeys greet me happily on the road, their red wattles shaking as they run to hop over the fence.

I’ve been reading up on the hidden life of turkeys and thinking a lot about them lately, especially in connection to the sadness that befalls me each Thanksgiving, when 46 million turkeys are killed. I’ve also thought that, much like the rest of our industrialized food system, how little most people know about the animals they eat. Much has been made of the lack of intelligence of the turkey. They’re often portrayed as dumb or clumsy. I’m convinced that this incorrect depiction has more to do with our cruel breeding for fast growth and unnaturally large birds. Today’s turkeys are mercilessly supersized and cruelly raised, bred, and slaughtered. Frank Reese writes:

Not a single turkey you can buy in a supermarket could walk normally, much less jump or fly…They can’t even have sex. Not the antibiotic-free, or organic, or free-range, or anything. They all have the same foolish genetics, and their bodies won’t allow for it anymore. Every turkey sold in every store and served in every restaurant was the product of artificial insemination…Tell me what could be sustainable about that?

This Thanksgiving, think about celebrating compassion, by sponsoring a turkey instead of eating one. You can adopt a turkey by fostering it through Animal Place and Farm Sanctuary has a great campaign to help adopt a turkey.

Photo: Vicki’s Nature

“No one will come,” he said.

I knew he was right. No one wants a turkey-less Thanksgiving. I resigned myself to a meal at someone else’s house, cringing at the sight of a gravy-dripping bird proudly displayed in the center of a dining room table.

It was either that or dinner for three, which my husband, daughter and I did one year.

This year there’s a twist in the family drama. Various dysfunctions among siblings, parents and even a friend prevent others from hosting. My dining room will be christened for Thanksgiving. What I’m most grateful for is the chance to gather nearly a dozen people for a meat-less harvest meal.

I stopped eating meat 30 years ago, the day I arrived at college. The decision was not borne of some great moral struggle, though I’ve always had a deep, abiding love for animals. I eat cheese and eggs. I never saw vegetarianism as a movement or something to broadcast, much less proselytize about.

Now I do.

Now I know far too much to hope only my husband (a vegetarian since we got together a decade ago) and my seven-year-old daughter will follow my lead. Now I hope to convince as many humans as I can to think about the connection between what they eat and how it was raised. I want to do whatever I’m able to connect the dots between E-coli and factory farming. I’m urging everyone I come in contact with to watch the documentary “Food Inc,” even though I spent a good portion of it crouching behind the seat, cupping my ears.

Food Inc. showed me I had work to do. I hadn’t made the connection that cheese I’d been buying at stores like Whole Foods might be made with milk from factory-farm cows. That next Thursday, I found a local cheese artisan, Shepherd Valley of New Jersey, at my town’s farm market. During the weekend, my family visited this amazing sheep farm that is responsible for the most delicious, grass-fed cheese. The butter I bought at their farm store showed me I had no idea what real butter tastes like.

I read egg cartons as carefully as I read bank statements. I know free-range and cage-free and all that marketing hullabaloo does not insure laying hens are living a humane existence. I try my best. Sometimes the twee farmy name on the cartoon makes me reach for a particular brand. Until I stop procrastinating and raise chickens (which I’ve been swearing to do since I moved to a big piece of land in suburbia) I will not be satisfied that I’m eating ethically-grown eggs.

We live with so many disconnects. So much about how we live and what we’re exposed to makes us feel powerless. Eating is an exception. Eating is the great equalizer. I can be conscious about every food I choose or reject. With every trip to the health food store or farm market or the farm out yonder I can teach my daughter she never ever has to set foot in an A&P. Or more importantly, what she eats has a story. And every story has something to do with dirt or a tree or an animal. And she has a place in this cycle of life.

I’m already anticipating a few wise cracks over the dinner table on Thanksgiving. Just for sport, you know. I could launch into a lecture on how turkeys have been so genetically modified that they are incapable of natural reproduction. Or I can cook up a harvest feast of my husband’s home-made breads, creamy potato leek soup, sweet potato fries, fresh salads and other vegetables dishes that will leave everyone just as stuffed and overfed as they would otherwise be.

If I’m really lucky, right before we gather around the table before dusk, someone will notice the sound of crunching leaves outside the window. The kids will run over first and squeal with delight at the brood of wild turkeys pecking at the lawn. The rest of us will not be able to resist watching these iridescent feathery creatures pursuing subsistence.

I love these birds. They are always a great source of pleasure and humor. But on Thanksgiving, I will raise my glass to them and whisper “lucky you.”

For Thanksgiving this year, I remembered a poem I wrote several years ago – about the connection between food and family, between food and life.

My grandmother has food allergies, and for almost forty years ate a daily diet of lamb, dates, and spring water. Period. No vegetables or cooking oils, no Thanksgiving pumpkin pie or strawberry shortcake on a summer’s day, no variation. I, in contrast, was raised to enjoy all the tastes of the earth, and to this day have no understanding of what her experience with that diet might be. But while I can’t fully comprehend, I can somehow appreciate her life through the simple act of eating a plump Madjool date. The ancestral pull of family and tradition cannot be ignored, and is somehow so directly linked to the experience of eating – to the taste, smell and texture of our food.

This Thanksgiving, allow the food you eat to be that connection to the past – and with each bite forge a new commitment to preserving the integrity of the food you love and the land it grows on, for the future. The Thanksgiving tradition, for all of its historical controversy, is the closest thing we have in this country to truly honoring, en masse as a nation, our land and food.

Those of you reading this blog already know what to do: Buy the food that honors our agricultural legacy for this day, ignore convention and include some of your quirky family favorites, forgo the free frozen turkey at the supermarket and opt for a free range or heirloom bird instead, slip some local ingredients into that cranberry relish….and above all, share the bounty so it doesn’t go to waste.

Happy Thanksgiving, from my family to yours.

In my grandmothers honor

I eat the roast of lamb and date from the palm and
Taste the splendor of our food
In my grandfathers slipstream
I ride swiftly across the continental divide and
In my great grandmothers spirit
I sit and burn the pinyon and sage with open arms
To the ones from the dark beyond
In my grandfathers shadow
I walk beneath the greatest giant of the earth and
Live in the world of the trees
In my great grandfathers laboratory
I study the leaves of the Amazon and how they
Change in time and space
In my grandmothers love
I awake by day and realize
They are all as close as this food
That we eat.

Oakland, Ca. 2006

Photo: Library of Congress