“A Grudging Accord.” That is what the New York Times called the tenuous, non-binding agreement produced out of the United Nations conference on climate change. The final document consisted of only 12 paragraphs. For those of us concerned with the climate or simply living on this planet, the news is incredibly disheartening. But is it unexpected? President Obama cannot commit legally to anything without Senate approval. Furthermore, the meeting went on without once trying to understand why all previous goals had not been met. The biggest issue on the table was greenhouse gas emissions but the issues outside the meeting printed across posters were much more diverse, speaking to agricultural reform, social justice, reforming or abolishing organizations like the World Bank, biodiversity, and more. The president acknowledged that there is more work to do. Perhaps we need to help our representatives figure out what that work can look like.
I thought about all this last night while visiting my farmer friend Steve to listen to some accordion music. In the Minnesota winter, there isn’t much for him to do on the farm so he uses his space to host talks and performances for the community. Steve spoke to the crowd about the incredible year we have had, the incredibly frustrating year the country has had. But we should not forget in the midst of these long conversations on health care and climate change the thinking behind the Nobel Prize Committee decision to give President Obama the Nobel Peace Prize. It was given specifically for his commitment to reducing nuclear arms and responding to climate change. But I think it was more broadly given to the American people for their renewed commitment to global participation and to themselves. Throughout the election process, Americans learned to listen to each other’s stories. The people we thought we knew. The problems we thought we understood. All of this was rethought. We have to remember what it feels like to treasure our responsibility to each other and we have to find a way to connect that to action.
And though the end-of-year-holidays bring a time for reflection, it more often than not becomes bogged down in presents and events and a life that feels unsustainable, emotionally and environmentally. So when my eco-conscious friend calls to ask if I’ve read any good defenses of gift giving because she wants to give something to her boyfriend who is armed with all the rational arguments against such an act, I have to admit I haven’t. But I firmly believe that beneath all the wrapping paper, our gifts speak to two vital human tendencies. First, a gift serves as a reminder, a brilliant celebration, of the fact that our relationships are not rational. Our love is not quantifiable. Our commitment to understanding another person is explained only by a wordless contemplation of the broad night sky. And second, a gift acts as a material manifestation of a promise. Much like the exchange of wedding rings, a gift acts as an undeniable marker of our mutual bonds to each other. I believe that it reminds us of the work we have yet to do, the long road ahead that President Obama is only beginning to tread. We must walk it together.
So as the year and debates wind down, we note that familiar feeling that something is left unfulfilled, that the gifts we truly wanted to give our loved ones, peace, health, and community, are difficult to find. But we go ahead and exchange gifts anyway as if to say, “do not give up.” And so we won’t.

The show starts in typical Julia fashion-a complicated contraption of funnels and glass jars are piled on top of each other and out comes the sauce. If playing a sort of kitchen jenga wasn’t daring enough for you, Julia informs the audience that today we’re making tripe! I should let you know here that I’m a vegetarian and actually eating the lining of a cow’s stomach (that’s what tripe is in case you were wondering) isn’t enticing to me. But Julia Child is.

The other night, I switched from a few old French Chef episodes (Julia’s original television show) to an incredibly over the top late 80s detective/surfer film. And for all the blood and guts of the action film, it has nothing on Julia. How do you make the sauce for the tripe the perfect consistency? Cow’s foot. And so Julia has a cow’s foot to wave around and next to that? Pig’s feet. She knows American cooks at the time wouldn’t have access to any of these things necessarily and so she walks you through every possible option, waving around the more gruesome parts of several animals; you could use pig rinds, pig or cow feet, or, perhaps the most fearsome, a veal “knuckle,” which is a sawed down veal’s knee. And even though I’m never going to eat these things, I learn so much watching her.

Just as Julia was talking to an American crowd of homemakers dedicated to the canned good, today she speaks to an equally distant audience who can’t simply go to their friendly butcher and ask for some veal knuckle for their tripe. Even though Julia never became involved in anything like Slow Food, she understood that the sausage you stuffed yourself just somehow tasted better. She kept repeating, “you know what’s in it.” It isn’t just that you can list the ingredients, it’s that you truly know what’s in it. You are comfortable handling all parts of the animal and you know why each works as it does.

But many of us don’t have the familiarity. And to point this out to modern audiences, Jonathan Safran Foer gives us his Eating Animals, an honest and detailed investigation into all things factory farm. And while all of this led him to become a vegetarian, I don’t think it necessarily has to. It should lead you to be suspicious of the term “free-range” or “cage-free.” It should lead you to doubt any promises of “cruelty-free” once you’ve seen the inner-workings of how the industry is regulated (here’s a hint-it’s essentially not). This book is a difficult read and it doesn’t disguise its tone. So, read it, consider it, and then go find those few rare examples of farmers (as Foer points out, no one involved in the factory farming process can truly be called a farmer), and then find a recipe from Julia.

So here are my holiday suggestions: Julia Child’s French Chef DVDs and Jonathan Safran Foer’s Eating Animals. And might I also recommend finding a turkey who doesn’t just promise free-range but one that lived its full life, developed social hierarchies, and wasn’t crippled by its own manipulated genetics. Because, as Julia taught us, it just tastes better when you know where it’s coming from.

Committee member Steve Rich suggests cookbooks for the holiday season, for yourself or for a loved one.

There is no shortage of cookbooks and other tomes on the subject of food available in stores for the holidays. And with so many notable chefs and writers living in The Bay Area, there is a lengthy list of worthy choices authored by local residents. My apologies in advance to the numerous others worthy of mention here, but here is a short list of my favorites – the ones I personally refer to most frequently.

To me, great cookbooks are considerably more than a collection of recipes. The best ones teach about ingredients, techniques, flavor combinations and so much more. We’re not limited to learning a particular dish but instead are offered the opportunity to improve our culinary skills. In addition, the books most frequently laying open on my counter feature recipes which have been well tested for the home kitchen. The most crucial component is that the recipes work – not just in a professional kitchen, but in yours and mine.

Two (among many) local cookbooks that consistently succeed on all levels described above are “A16 Food+Wine” by Nate Appleman and Shelley Lindgren and “The Zuni Café Cookbook” by Judy Rogers.

There are few books about cooking more comprehensive and informative than Madeleine Kamman’s “The New Making of a Cook”.

The release of Michael Pollan’s “The Omivore’s Dilemna” catapulted the author to the forefront of the local/sustainable/seasonal food movement – and for good reason; he has a thorough knowledge of his subject matter and is a gifted communicator. Highly recommended.

Finally, there is no food-related book that I refer to more often or with more
unabashed joy than Patricia Unterman’s “San Francisco Food Lover’s Guide”. Not the Pocket Guide – the big 4th Edition, featuring lengthy and extremely knowledgeable entries on many of the best restaurants, cafes, bars, markets, bakeries and other sources for incredible food throughout the area. Sadly, the full sized edition is currently out of print and extremely difficult to find. But isn’t that what great gift giving is all about – finding that elusive yet spectacularly perfect present for someone special? Happy hunting.