Beef
Empires of Food
Books
BEEF:
THE COW. THE MOST INDUSTRIOUS ANIMAL IN THE WORLD. A beast central to human existence since time began, that has played a vital role in our history not only as a source of food, but also as a means of labor, an economic resource, an inspiration for art, and even as a religious icon. Prehistoric people painted it on cave walls; explorers, merchants, and landowners traded it as currency; many cultures have worshipped it as a god. So how did it come to occupy the sorry state it does today--more factory product than animal?
In Beef, Andrew Rimas and Evan D.G. Fraser answer that question, telling the story of cattle in its entirety. From the powerful auroch, a now extinct beast once revered as a mystical totem, to the dairy cows of 17th Century Holland, to the frozen meat patties and growth hormones of today, they deliver an engaging, panoramic view of the cow's long and colorful history.
Peppered with lively anecdotes, recipes, and culinary tidbits, Beef tells a story that spans the globe, from ancient Mediterranean bullfighting rings to the rugged grazing grounds of 18th century England, from the quiet farms of Japan's Kobe beef cows to crowded American stockyards to remote villages in East Africa, home of the Masai, a society to which cattle mean everything. Leaving no stone unturned in its exploration of the cow's legacy, the narrative serves not only as a compelling story but as a call to arms, offering practical solutions for confronting the current condition of the wasteful beef and dairy industries.
Beef is a captivating history of an animal whose relationship with humanity has shaped the world as we know it, and readers will never look at steak the same way again.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Excerpt
The Japanese are not beef people. Like the Romans, they have always preferred the briny joys of fish. It was only after the Meiji Restoration of 1868 that meat was eaten at all—the twin threats of Buddhism and famine held such a grip on the islands that the flesh of four-legged animals had been banned from the cook pot for a thousand years. Animals were for pulling plows and for contemplating. Scores of generations of Japanese lived without ever having felt their mouths water at the smell of a grilled chop.
When Emperor Meiji did, finally, lift the ban, it was cosmopolitan Kobe that led the adoption of foreign eating habits. But even then, the Japanese never really took to eating the glistening wads of steak beloved by the West. They still ate their beef in slender, chopstick-friendly slices, used primarily as a garnish for rice and vegetables.
In a peculiar twist of history, the Japanese again closed their doors when, in the postwar period, the government tried to protect the domestic cattle industry by choking the export of Wagyu cattle. But as is so often the case in the looking-glass world of economics, it didn’t work out as expected. A few cattle did leave the country, and, since the 1970s, several American and Australian farms have bred Wagyu. The astronomical costs of grain and farmland in Japan have created a huge Japanese market for these diaspora cows. Today, herds of Wagyu make a reverse crossing to the land of their ancestors. These imported Wagyu are promptly butchered, stamped with the label of Kobe beef, and then often mailed back to restaurants in Beverly Hills.
By the standards of resource conservation, the story of Kobe beef is atrocious. Intensive grain feeding, an unsparing investment of labor, and not one, but two trans-Pacific voyages. This is the stuff that leaves disciples of sustainable agriculture weeping into their oatmeal. It’s clearly a useless model for large-scale cattle operations. And it wouldn’t work if the Japanese, who buy nearly all the Wagyu beef on the market, demanded a full pound of flesh for their dinner.
The lesson of Wagyu is that there’s a libertine’s pleasure to be taken in this ivory, blood-jeweled meat, like cinnabar streaked with cream. Wagyu, clean of smoke and dressings, tastes more virginal than veal. It’s beef before the Fall, and it costs a devil’s ransom. That’s what saves it. Wagyu, on account of its price, imposes restraint. There can be no Wagyu gorgers—no chicken-fried Wagyu booths in the county fair, no all-you-can-eat troughs at the Wagyu buffet, no triple-decker Wagyu burgers straining at the bun. This is beef that forces its consumer to compress his or her appetites, or learn to satiate them elsewhere.
The libertine, at least, knows this moral: Better a morsel of pleasure than a surfeit of junk. It’s worth chewing over. And the lesson extends to beef in general.
To
buy BEEF, please click
here to check out my website at HarperCollins:
EMPIRES
OF FOOD
Here is the
July 22nd, 2008
Random House Books to Publish Empires of Food: How Civilization
Rests on the
Dining Table, by Andrew Rimas and Evan Fraser
Sophie Lazar, Editor of Random House Books, has acquired
Empires of Food will tell the story of the food trade—which is also,
of
course, the story of civilization itself. It's the story of how we
built our
towns and cities, our ports and rail networks and motorways. Every
empire, from
ancient
Andrew Rimas and Evan Fraser (who coauthored Beef: The Untold Story
of How
Milk, Meat, and Muscle Shaped the World, to be published in October
2008) will
take us on a tour of nine food empires in as many chapters, telling the
story
of each culture's relationship with a particular imported or exported
food, and
finishing by looking forward to ways we can better manage our food in
the
future. Along the way, the authors show that seeming modern concerns
about, for
example, government subsidies, intensive farming, and local produce
priced out
of the market have actually been going on in different forms since
agriculture
began 10,000 years ago.
Sophie Lazar says, "With food prices rising and debates about
sustainability raging through the press, it’s clear that the issues at
the
heart of Empires of Food are dominating today’s news agenda. I’m
thrilled to be
publishing a book that will put all of these hot topics into their
historical
context."
Evan Fraser has spent the past ten years in academic research of the
history
of food production, food trade, and climate change. He has firsthand
experience
with food production in a range of settings:
Andrew Rimas has for the past thirteen years worked as a journalist
in
