Review: Skinny, er, Book

by Beth Goulart

My local bookstore can’t keep a certain bestseller in stock. You’ve probably heard its provocative name. First word: Skinny. Second word: A synonym for “female dog.” Such a title might lead you to expect a novel about a malnourished canine. Au contraire, mes amis. It’s a book about food.

The scandalous title, it turns out, is fair warning. Rory Freedman and Kim Barnouin, the friends who penned this volume, live in Los Angeles, where, I can only surmise, ladies have different ideas about how to conduct themselves. Curse words and crass descriptions of bodily functions normally discussed only in private, with doctors, permeate this text.
 

Their thesis is that ideal health (and resulting skinny-ness) will result from consuming only foods they deem “pure.” On this list: organic fruits and veggies, whole grains, legumes, and herbal tea. Excluded: meat, fish, dairy, eggs, coffee, sugar. Their diet is essentially vegan, with an emphasis on organic, a preference for raw, and some macrobiotic leanings. Their mantras are “think before you eat” (in their words, “Use your head, lose your a**.”) and “trust no one” (their phrasing). We should pay attention to what we put into our bodies, in other words, and take personal responsibility for understanding our food instead of depending on the government to tell us what’s safe and what isn’t. It’s not a bad idea.

What’s bad is the way they arrive at this conclusion--with oversimplified, under-researched statements about how food production works in our country. You shouldn’t eat animal products, they contend, not only because they make you fat, but also because their origins are horrid. Indeed, the chapter about the meat industry is horrifying, complete with PETA-credited descriptions of slaughterhouse evils. And I agree: Factory farming is very, very bad news.

In his own bestselling book, The Omnivore’s Dilemma, Michael Pollan arrived at that same conclusion. (And in case you were wondering, he’s skinny, too.) Pollan’s work also delved into the ethics of food in America.  

But unlike Pollan, in their 226 endnotes Freedman and Barnouin don’t cite a single family farmer. Nor do they cite the Animal Welfare Institute, nor the American Grassfed Association, nor the Humane Farm Animal Care organization, all entities that work with producers to ensure humane, sustainable livestock practices. They don’t cite anyone like Sara Faivre-Davis, who together with her family toils endless hours at Wild Type Ranch in Cameron out of passion for good stewardship and wholesome food. Nor do they mention someone like Hugh Fitzsimmons, who harvests his Thunder Heart bison in their native habitat, allowing for their natural grieving habits. People like Carol Ann Sayle, whose Boggy Creek Farm laying chickens are practically family, are also absent here. These individuals are but a small sampling, people I know personally because they live near me in Central Texas. Cast a national net – or even one around Los Angeles – and you’ll find many livestock producers treating animals well.

The best way to treat animals, such extremists as Freedman and Barnouin argue, is to not raise and kill them at all. But it isn’t realistic to hope that the whole planet will go vegan someday. No matter how many horror stories they tell, people will continue to eat animals and their products. What’s more, demonizing all ranchers and poultry farmers isn’t fair to the ones who work hard to do what’s right.  With my dollar, I’ll create market value for humane treatment. I’ll spend my money and fill my plate supporting people who practice animal compassion. They--not a doomed-from-the-start campaign for global veganism--are our best weapon against animal cruelty.

I’m a new Texan, but an enthusiastic one. “Bless their hearts,” is my favorite expression, one I learned here. I like the way it conveys compassion, even to those with whom I disagree. So to those California girls, Freedman and Barnouin, I say, “Bless your hearts. Come on down to Texas. There are some folks I’d like you to meet.”

Beth Goulart is an Austin-based freelance journalist.

 

 
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