My family ate dinner together every night at 7. Or maybe 8. No matter where we were in the world—and we bounced around a little bit—good food, shared, was a constant. I became an adventuresome kid, ordering snails or eel before I was old enough to read the menu.
Food always mattered to me—and, as a journalist, that led to questions about how it got to my plate, who made it and what we broadly think of as “the food system.” Food wasn’t just a fun morsel or two, I realized. It represented complex relationships, with consequences for human health, the planet, and the creatures on it.
I’ve written about food policy, nutrition, agriculture, and the business of food for the past decade, first from “commodity country” in the Midwest, and more recently from the regulatory and Congressional trenches in Washington, D.C.
If someone told me fried capers were bad for the earth or poisonous, I’d have to ignore them.