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Remembering Joan Gussow

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Wednesday, March 12, 2025

Joan Dye Gussow, who died last Friday at age 96, was a fiercely independent thinker and food-system visionary whose ideas caught on and rippled outward. Starting in the 1970s, through her groundbreaking nutritional ecology class at Teachers College within Columbia University, and through books like The Feeding Web: Issues in Nutritional Ecology, she transformed our view of food from something enjoyed at the end of a fork to the entire system that created the mouthful. Photo credit: Randy Harris, courtesy of Chelsea Green Publishing Gussow helped us understand that buying locally grown, seasonal food (and raising it ourselves, if possible) connected us to the health of the land, and to our own health, too. And because of her, we began to understand the deleterious impacts of the industrialized food system—among them depleted soil, poisoned water, and metabolic disease.  She railed at politicians for setting back progress and, as she told us in an interview, “You have to keep hope alive, you have to keep moving along the way you believe in and keep telling the truth and trying to get the word out there.” In person, Gussow was formidable and funny, speaking her brilliant mind with candor, urging us to see what was going on and to never stop asking hard questions. Luckily, many of us have heeded her call, and in our work and our lives, we continue the conversation she began.  We asked some of Gussow’s many fans to celebrate and remember her with us. For those who would like to share memories or photos through this link, created by her friend Pam Koch, please do so.  Dan Barber, chef and co-owner of Family Meal at Blue Hill in Manhattan and Blue Hill at Stone Barns To Joan, the professor: You changed the way we view a single strawberry and  taught us to trust cows more than chemists. For this and many other things, Joan, we salute you. To Joan, the writer: Political or personal, your prose was always beautiful and unflinching. For this and many other things, Joan, we salute you. To Joan, the nutritionist: You proved that it is not merely safe, but sensible (and not merely sensible, but imperative) to keep slathering butter on all those potatoes. For this and many other things, Joan, we salute you. To Joan, the activist: On health food zealots, always a baffling irritation for you, you delivered a consistent message: Ignore them. Your vitality was daily proof of that simple wisdom. For this and many other things, Joan, we salute you. To Joan, the botanist: We valued your pawpaws as much as your raspberries. Your green thumb lifted our blue moods. For this and many other things, Joan, we salute you. To Joan, the cook and critic: You cooked up what you dug. For agribusiness adversaries, you cooked up trouble. For this and many other things, Joan, we salute you. To Joan, the mother: You have raised all these issues and along the way you’ve raised us, too. Here’s hoping we will do you proud. For this and many other things, Joan, we salute you. And to Joan, the hedonist: Food was your medium, but your message was a philosophy of life. You taught us something more than nutrition and agriculture—you taught us how to eat, to indulge in pleasure by way of responsibility. Thank you. Ann Cooper, chef and founder of the Chef Ann Foundation  “Joan Gussow was truly an OG of the sustainable/ organic food movement, and an amazing thinker and educator.” Joan Gussow was truly an OG of the sustainable/organic food movement, and an amazing thinker and educator. She spoke at the 1996 Chefs Collaborative Retreat and told the group that some “food” should just not be organic. “An organic gummy bear or an organic Twinkie, organic Eggo Toaster Waffles . . . they just shouldn’t be organic.”  I was so inspired by her idea that we shouldn’t have organic junk food that it shaped many of my thoughts on sustainability. Joan was instrumental in some of my thinking for my book Bitter Harvest, and when I went to the Ross School to build a healthy, nutritious, delicious school food program, Joan graciously gave of her time and energy to teach and educate our team. I will be forever grateful for all she did for food systems and sustainability.  Leslie Hatfield with Joan Gussow. Photo courtesy of Hatfield. Leslie Hatfield, Senior Partnership and Outreach Advisor at GRACE Communications Foundation Joan was brilliant, no question, but what drew me to her was her fierce honesty. Whether writing about unchecked corporate power’s impacts on diets, or her marriage and subsequent widowhood, she asked hard questions and didn’t flinch in laying out the answers. She inspired me, on both personal and professional levels, to live a more honest and authentic life.  Elizabeth Henderson, farmer and co-chair, Interstate Council policy committee of the Northeast Organic Farming Association  I came to know Joan through my work as an organic farmer and as one of the first to organize a CSA [community supported agriculture system]. I was thrilled when she agreed to write the foreword to my 2000 book Sharing the Harvest. The first edition came out in 1998, when we estimated that there were about 1,000 CSAs in the U.S. By the second edition, in 2007, that number had more than doubled, and there may be as many as 7,000 today.  As a pioneering advocate of buying from local organic farms, Joan instantly grasped the significance of CSAs. In her foreword, Joan wrote: “Across this country, a movement is spreading that acknowledges a long-ignored reality: Most of what we pay for our food goes to companies that transport, process, and market what comes off the farms, not to farmers themselves. The people who actually grow food don’t get paid enough to keep on doing it. If we hope to keep on eating, however, we need to keep farmers in business; and if we want to keep farmers in business, it’s time for all of us, ordinary citizens and policy makers alike, to begin learning how that might be done. Sharing the Harvest is a great place to start.” Joan’s words are as urgent today as when she wrote them 28 years ago. Family-scale farms continue to go out of business, and the United States Department of Agriculture just cancelled the grant that would have enabled the CSA Innovation Network, a network of CSA networks all over the country, to support more diverse farms in creating CSAs. I will be eternally grateful to Joan for her encouragement to me as a farmer and as a writer, and for transforming the discipline of nutrition from the reductionist academic analysis of the food on our plates into a training program for active participants in the international movement to wrest power over food from corporate industrial domination and return it to the people who eat, and do the hard and joyous work of growing healthy, nutritious food. Photo credit: Susan Frieman, courtesy of Chelsea Green Publishing Pamela Koch, Mary Swarz Rose associate professor of nutrition and education, Teachers College, Columbia University Joan taught her transformative course, Nutritional Ecology, in the Program in Nutrition at Teachers College, Columbia University, from 1970 to 2021. I taught with her from 2012 to 2021. Each week students received a 50–60 page packet of readings on a topic such as the “true cost (i.e., the environmental, health, and social cost) of food.” Students wrote a one-page reflection paper on the readings, which could be written as a letter to a friend. My comments are a reflection letter to you, Joan.  Dear Joan, I miss your wit, your wisdom, and how we could reflect on an old reading, such as your 1980 piece “What corporations have done to our food,” and see something totally new in today’s context. You described our industrial food system as “insane” and “absurd.” You have taught me to always speak the truth and think critically.  Case in point: The fertilizers and pesticides used on farms have to pollute our rivers, oceans, and drinking water. How could they not? The ability to ask the tough questions is what we can all do to carry your torch. This gives me hope that we can heal our ecosystem, support public health, reduce food-related chronic diseases, and treat everyone who works all along the food chain fairly and justly. Because of you, Joan, I believe we will have a better food future. We need your hope, Joan, now, more than ever. Ellie Krieger, MS RDN, Food Network and PBS show host and James Beard award-winning cookbook author I remember the feeling of having my mind blown open by Joan Dye Gussow’s teaching. It was like suddenly seeing in three dimensions when I had only been seeing in two before. Understanding that nutrition is much more than just nutrients–that [it] is agriculture, politics, the environment, and more–shaped my thinking about food and the work I do to this day. Thank you, Joan, for your brilliance, bravery, persistence, and for leading by example. I consider myself a product of the big, robust garden you cultivated. Anna Lappé, author and executive director of the Global Alliance for the Future of Food Joan was a singular, uncompromising voice for organic and local food. I’ll always appreciate her generosity of spirit as a teacher, training countless students through her courses at Columbia Teachers College and opening her door to me personally as she took the time to help me understand food systems and the power of organic practices.  I’ll never forget interviewing her at her home in upstate New York for Grub: Ideas for an Urban Organic Kitchen. While we looked out at her overflowing vegetable garden that stretched to the waters of the Hudson River, Joan shared her food philosophy, including turning me onto her seminal essay about a hypothetical organic Twinkie.  While serving on the National Organic Standards Board, she had penned, “Can an Organic Twinkie Be Certified?” Her answer was yes. One day, a Twinkie could very well be certified organic if 95 percent of its ingredients were. But, she was quick to note, it would not be healthy—nor would it reflect her vision of a food system defined by local, healthy, whole foods and not highly processed ones.  I loved the last words of her New York Times obituary, which sounded every bit like the Joan I had been inspired by for years: “The day I die, I want to have a black thumb from where I hit it with a hammer and scratches on my hands from pruning the roses.” Kate MacKenzie, Executive Director of New York City’s Mayor’s Office of Food Policy  Joan Gussow has influenced my professional life more than any other. Twenty-five years ago, I started in the public health nutrition program at Teachers College, with a BS degree in Nutritional Sciences from Cornell. I often say that at Cornell, I learned everything about food after you swallow it, and everything about food before you eat it at TC, from Joan. “Perhaps now more than ever, we have the responsibility of carrying her legacy forward, to meaningfully connect to real food for the health of our people and our environment.” It was in her classes that I was introduced to topics like the corporate consolidation of the food system (or to even consider the words “food system”), the limits to population growth, how to feed the world, agricultural inputs like pesticides and organic practices, and the concepts of sustainability and local food.  I remember one class when she was lecturing about the number of food products on grocery store shelves, and how over time, people were made to think there was just no more time to cook. Her simple response: that we have always had 24 hours in the day, and it’s the power of marketing and industry to convince us otherwise. These issues made me deeply curious and desirous to effectuate changing the food system.   I’ve been doing that ever since graduating and I have met extraordinary leaders and visionaries throughout the U.S. and beyond. Many of those people have also been students of Joan’s. Perhaps now more than ever, we have the responsibility of carrying her legacy forward, to meaningfully connect to real food for the health of our people and our environment. Marion Nestle, Paulette Goddard professor of nutrition, food studies, and public health emerita, New York University I first met Joan in the late 1970s when I heard her give a talk in the Bay Area when I was teaching at the University of California San Francisco School of Medicine. I had never heard anyone talk about the need to link agricultural production to nutrition and health—food systems, we now call that—and it felt revelatory. I am not alone in being inspired by her work. I have followed it with great admiration. Ahead of her time? Absolutely. You have discovered that the food industry influences food choices? Try Joan’s “Who Pays the Piper,” from 1980. You think food systems should be sustainable? See Joan’s “Dietary Guidelines for Sustainability,” written with Kate Clancy in 1986. Her students at Columbia were so lucky to be in her orbit. I am beyond sad at her loss.  Raj Patel, ​​author, activist, and research professor in the Lyndon B. Johnson School of Public Affairs at the University of Texas, Austin Joan was so ahead of her time, I often wondered whether she thought the food movement revival a decade or two ago was just the history of the 1970s repeating, this time as farce. But she was always gracious, ready to celebrate the wins—and hurl imprecations at those who deserved them: the food industry, their shills, and the deer who ate from her garden. Recently, I re-read her classic lecture, “Women, Food, and the Survival of the Species,” plucked from the archives by Daniel Bowman Simon, and it reminded me of the abundance of her spirit, and the depth of our debt to her.  Michael Pollan, author, journalist Joan was one of my first and most influential teachers when it came to understanding food and agriculture as a system. (The other is Marion Nestle.) Joan saw the politics in all sorts of places people had trouble spotting it, such as the field of nutrition. We first met in the 1990s at the Culinary Institute of America, at a conference about genetically modified crops. She was formidable, and though I don’t recall what she said, it galvanized the room with its penetrating clarity.  She was a master at connecting the dots, and the fact that most of us understand food and agriculture as a single system, linking policy, soil, nutrition, public health, and technology, owes in large part to the work Joan did.  But she was much more than a theorist; indeed, she walked the talk, growing much of her own food on an oft-flooded piece of land right on the Hudson–a beautiful but perilous spot I had the privilege of visiting a couple of times.  The phrase, “Eat food, not too much, mostly plants,” owes at least two words to Joan. When I was researching In Defense of Food, I asked her to sum up what she had learned about how best to eat, and she didn’t miss a beat: “Eat food.” As in, real food, whole foods, unprocessed foods. I embroidered her message a bit, with “mostly plants” and “not too much” but the basic message—which is that we don’t and shouldn’t eat nutrients–was Joan’s. She was an inspiration. Tom Philpott, senior research associate at the Center for a Livable Future, Johns Hopkins University Joan Dye Gussow has passed on, but her legacy and influence will live as long as we have ecosystems and natural resources worth defending. Like all of our best and brightest food-system intellectuals, Joan understood that humanity doesn’t exist separately from nature or ecology, but lives deeply embedded within them. We are as much a part of nature as the lion skulking the savanna, or the warbler winging it from the Adirondacks to the Caribbean islands for winter; it’s just that we exert much more influence over the ecosystems we touch.  Joan elegantly summed up this concept in the title of her 1978 book, The Feeding Web: Issues In Nutritional Ecology. “Nutritional ecology”: The idea neatly connects our sustenance with the landscapes that feed us and provide sinks for our waste. Professionally, academically, she was a nutritionist, a field that evolved over decades in tight collaboration with corporate food giants, and too often reduced nutrition to a list of essential vitamins and minerals—commodities that, once injected into highly processed food, the idea went, make a health-giving diet.  “Perhaps what I will remember most about Joan is the laughter, the caring, and the closeness we shared, sometimes verging on tears.” Today, this ideology is finally unravelling under the weight of undeniable evidence. Joan rejected it more than a half century ago, and used her perch at Columbia University to launch broadsides against it. By the time I met her in the late 2000s, Joan was a doyenne of the anti-industrial food movement, renowned for her advocacy in support of local and regional food systems, and for her legendary garden on the banks of the Hudson, not far from New York City. It meant a lot to hear her say she had read and appreciated my journalism work, and it was delightful to be able to tell her how much I had learned from her. She was a happy and inspiring warrior against the forces of industrial agriculture.  And damn it, she was right. Her vision of robust local and regional food networks, bolstered by flourishing small- and mid-scale farms and justly compensated farm labor, represents a beacon for a livable future in an increasingly dystopian age. In a 2011 Civil Eats interview, she allowed that “compared to the reception my ideas got 30 years ago, it’s quite astonishing the reception they’re getting now,” citing the extraordinary artisanal food scenes emerging in places like Brooklyn. But, she added, “whether or not there’s going to be sea change in the whole system is so hard to judge.” Hard to judge, and harder still to achieve. It’s up to us, the generations she inspired, to make it so. I never managed to take her up on the invitation to visit her Hudson Valley garden. May it flourish in her memory forever. I still hope to see it someday. Joan Dye Gussow with Urvashi Rangan. Photo courtesy of Rangan. Urvashi Rangan, founding co-chair, Funders for Regenerative Agriculture (FORA) and chief science advisor, GRACE Communications Foundation  I had the immense pleasure of sharing in Joan’s professional and personal life. As a young scientist, I remember presenting to a nutrition conference and Joan was in the front row and asked many great questions. From then, I always knew to seek her professional opinion on the harms of industrial ag practices and the benefits of organic production. She then invited me to lecture in her classes and always wanted to know the latest goings-on in food politics.    Perhaps what I will remember most about Joan is the laughter, the caring, and the closeness we shared, sometimes verging on tears. I remember one conversation about gut microbiomes and people reseeding with poop from other people. We decided that Joan’s poop would be worth more than gold since her biome had only eaten organic food forever.   Despite the 40 years between us, I found Joan to be one of my closest and dear friends and one of the youngest people I have known. I remember leaving a conference in NYC together where she gave the keynote, and while we were driving home, she looked at me and said, “My God, Urvashi, there were some really old people there.” Joan wasn’t talking about age, but mindset (and she was so right).   And while she may have been the oldest person in the room, her mind and heart were youthful, yet wise. I used to tell her that when I grew up, I wanted to be just like her. She was a teacher until the end, in the classroom and out. I will miss her immensely and will cherish all of the times we had together.  Michael Sligh, founding chair, National Organic Standards Board Joan was that rare breed of academic, activist, and farmer. She helped us bridge movements and she was always on the right side of the fight. Tough as nails and a heart of gold. She will be missed. Kerry Trueman, sustainability advocate Joan was a dear friend and mentor to me, as she was to so many people. I became a die-hard devotee of her work after reading her first memoir, This Organic Life. We became friends several decades ago when she gave a talk at The New School. After she spoke, she mingled with the attendees, and I was so excited at the prospect of meeting her that I transcended my shyness to tell her how she had inspired me to plant pawpaws in my yard. Joan, in her inimitable acerbic-yet-affectionate way, liked to say that I had “stalked” her. She once called me her “favorite beneficial pest,” which, coming from her, was a thrilling compliment. What an honor it was to collaborate with her, to be a guest at so many memorable meals in her lovely home, to work side by side with her to restore her legendary garden after the Hudson River flooded it. The second time the river rose up to swallow her garden, she rose even higher, literally, by raising the soil level to accommodate the consequences of climate change. Her refusal to throw in the trowel in the wake of such destruction was quintessential Joan.  Her perseverance was just one of Joan’s many admirable traits, another being that she was not a purist. For her, eating locally meant being a regular at her local diner, regardless of how they sourced their eggs and bacon. How grateful I am to have known her. Karen Washington with Joan Gassow. Photo courtesy of Washington. Karen Washington, farmer, activist, and co-founder of Black Urban Growers Joan was such a kind and loving person. Her first act of kindness was to invite me and my gardeners from the Bronx to come visit and have lunch. Many of them did not speak English, but were able to enjoy her company, her garden, and the food. She loved people and was willing to share her home with strangers.  We became close as board members of Just Food. Her knowledge and wisdom of the food system was incredible. She taught me to be courageous and not sit by and allow things to happen, but to challenge things that were hard. I loved her so much and will miss her, but I will carry a piece of her in my work to fight against injustice. Alice Waters, chef, author, food activist, founder of Chez Panisse and The Edible Schoolyard Joan had a HUGE influence on my life and my thinking. “Eat locally, think globally” became my motto for Chez Panisse, and now for school food purchasing everywhere. The post Remembering Joan Gussow appeared first on Civil Eats.

Gussow helped us understand that buying locally grown, seasonal food (and raising it ourselves, if possible) connected us to the health of the land, and to our own health, too. And because of her, we began to understand the deleterious impacts of the industrialized food system—among them depleted soil, poisoned water, and metabolic disease.  She […] The post Remembering Joan Gussow appeared first on Civil Eats.

Joan Dye Gussow, who died last Friday at age 96, was a fiercely independent thinker and food-system visionary whose ideas caught on and rippled outward. Starting in the 1970s, through her groundbreaking nutritional ecology class at Teachers College within Columbia University, and through books like The Feeding Web: Issues in Nutritional Ecology, she transformed our view of food from something enjoyed at the end of a fork to the entire system that created the mouthful.

Joan Gussow's Garden. Joan Gussow

Photo credit: Randy Harris, courtesy of Chelsea Green Publishing

Gussow helped us understand that buying locally grown, seasonal food (and raising it ourselves, if possible) connected us to the health of the land, and to our own health, too. And because of her, we began to understand the deleterious impacts of the industrialized food system—among them depleted soil, poisoned water, and metabolic disease. 

She railed at politicians for setting back progress and, as she told us in an interview, “You have to keep hope alive, you have to keep moving along the way you believe in and keep telling the truth and trying to get the word out there.”

In person, Gussow was formidable and funny, speaking her brilliant mind with candor, urging us to see what was going on and to never stop asking hard questions. Luckily, many of us have heeded her call, and in our work and our lives, we continue the conversation she began. 

We asked some of Gussow’s many fans to celebrate and remember her with us. For those who would like to share memories or photos through this link, created by her friend Pam Koch, please do so. 

Dan Barber, chef and co-owner of Family Meal at Blue Hill in Manhattan and Blue Hill at Stone Barns

To Joan, the professor: You changed the way we view a single strawberry and  taught us to trust cows more than chemists.
For this and many other things, Joan, we salute you.

To Joan, the writer: Political or personal, your prose was always beautiful and unflinching.
For this and many other things, Joan, we salute you.

To Joan, the nutritionist: You proved that it is not merely safe, but sensible (and not merely sensible, but imperative) to keep slathering butter on all those potatoes.
For this and many other things, Joan, we salute you.

To Joan, the activist: On health food zealots, always a baffling irritation for you, you delivered a consistent message: Ignore them. Your vitality was daily proof of that simple wisdom.
For this and many other things, Joan, we salute you.

To Joan, the botanist: We valued your pawpaws as much as your raspberries. Your green thumb lifted our blue moods.
For this and many other things, Joan, we salute you.

To Joan, the cook and critic: You cooked up what you dug. For agribusiness adversaries, you cooked up trouble.
For this and many other things, Joan, we salute you.

To Joan, the mother: You have raised all these issues and along the way you’ve raised us, too. Here’s hoping we will do you proud.
For this and many other things, Joan, we salute you.

And to Joan, the hedonist: Food was your medium, but your message was a philosophy of life. You taught us something more than nutrition and agriculture—you taught us how to eat, to indulge in pleasure by way of responsibility. Thank you.

Ann Cooper, chef and founder of the Chef Ann Foundation 

“Joan Gussow was truly an OG of the sustainable/
organic food movement, and an amazing thinker and educator.”

Joan Gussow was truly an OG of the sustainable/organic food movement, and an amazing thinker and educator. She spoke at the 1996 Chefs Collaborative Retreat and told the group that some “food” should just not be organic. “An organic gummy bear or an organic Twinkie, organic Eggo Toaster Waffles . . . they just shouldn’t be organic.” 

I was so inspired by her idea that we shouldn’t have organic junk food that it shaped many of my thoughts on sustainability. Joan was instrumental in some of my thinking for my book Bitter Harvest, and when I went to the Ross School to build a healthy, nutritious, delicious school food program, Joan graciously gave of her time and energy to teach and educate our team. I will be forever grateful for all she did for food systems and sustainability. 

two women sit next to each other; one is older

Leslie Hatfield with Joan Gussow. Photo courtesy of Hatfield.

Leslie Hatfield, Senior Partnership and Outreach Advisor at GRACE Communications Foundation

Joan was brilliant, no question, but what drew me to her was her fierce honesty. Whether writing about unchecked corporate power’s impacts on diets, or her marriage and subsequent widowhood, she asked hard questions and didn’t flinch in laying out the answers. She inspired me, on both personal and professional levels, to live a more honest and authentic life. 

Elizabeth Henderson, farmer and co-chair, Interstate Council policy committee of the Northeast Organic Farming Association 

I came to know Joan through my work as an organic farmer and as one of the first to organize a CSA [community supported agriculture system]. I was thrilled when she agreed to write the foreword to my 2000 book Sharing the Harvest. The first edition came out in 1998, when we estimated that there were about 1,000 CSAs in the U.S. By the second edition, in 2007, that number had more than doubled, and there may be as many as 7,000 today.  As a pioneering advocate of buying from local organic farms, Joan instantly grasped the significance of CSAs.

In her foreword, Joan wrote:

“Across this country, a movement is spreading that acknowledges a long-ignored reality: Most of what we pay for our food goes to companies that transport, process, and market what comes off the farms, not to farmers themselves. The people who actually grow food don’t get paid enough to keep on doing it. If we hope to keep on eating, however, we need to keep farmers in business; and if we want to keep farmers in business, it’s time for all of us, ordinary citizens and policy makers alike, to begin learning how that might be done. Sharing the Harvest is a great place to start.”

Joan’s words are as urgent today as when she wrote them 28 years ago. Family-scale farms continue to go out of business, and the United States Department of Agriculture just cancelled the grant that would have enabled the CSA Innovation Network, a network of CSA networks all over the country, to support more diverse farms in creating CSAs.

I will be eternally grateful to Joan for her encouragement to me as a farmer and as a writer, and for transforming the discipline of nutrition from the reductionist academic analysis of the food on our plates into a training program for active participants in the international movement to wrest power over food from corporate industrial domination and return it to the people who eat, and do the hard and joyous work of growing healthy, nutritious food.

Joan gardening (Susan Frieman)

Photo credit: Susan Frieman, courtesy of Chelsea Green Publishing

Pamela Koch, Mary Swarz Rose associate professor of nutrition and education, Teachers College, Columbia University

Joan taught her transformative course, Nutritional Ecology, in the Program in Nutrition at Teachers College, Columbia University, from 1970 to 2021. I taught with her from 2012 to 2021. Each week students received a 50–60 page packet of readings on a topic such as the “true cost (i.e., the environmental, health, and social cost) of food.” Students wrote a one-page reflection paper on the readings, which could be written as a letter to a friend. My comments are a reflection letter to you, Joan. 

Dear Joan, I miss your wit, your wisdom, and how we could reflect on an old reading, such as your 1980 piece “What corporations have done to our food,” and see something totally new in today’s context. You described our industrial food system as “insane” and “absurd.” You have taught me to always speak the truth and think critically. 

Case in point: The fertilizers and pesticides used on farms have to pollute our rivers, oceans, and drinking water. How could they not? The ability to ask the tough questions is what we can all do to carry your torch. This gives me hope that we can heal our ecosystem, support public health, reduce food-related chronic diseases, and treat everyone who works all along the food chain fairly and justly. Because of you, Joan, I believe we will have a better food future. We need your hope, Joan, now, more than ever.

Ellie Krieger, MS RDN, Food Network and PBS show host and James Beard award-winning cookbook author

I remember the feeling of having my mind blown open by Joan Dye Gussow’s teaching. It was like suddenly seeing in three dimensions when I had only been seeing in two before. Understanding that nutrition is much more than just nutrients–that [it] is agriculture, politics, the environment, and more–shaped my thinking about food and the work I do to this day. Thank you, Joan, for your brilliance, bravery, persistence, and for leading by example. I consider myself a product of the big, robust garden you cultivated.

Anna Lappé, author and executive director of the Global Alliance for the Future of Food

Joan was a singular, uncompromising voice for organic and local food. I’ll always appreciate her generosity of spirit as a teacher, training countless students through her courses at Columbia Teachers College and opening her door to me personally as she took the time to help me understand food systems and the power of organic practices. 

I’ll never forget interviewing her at her home in upstate New York for Grub: Ideas for an Urban Organic Kitchen. While we looked out at her overflowing vegetable garden that stretched to the waters of the Hudson River, Joan shared her food philosophy, including turning me onto her seminal essay about a hypothetical organic Twinkie. 

While serving on the National Organic Standards Board, she had penned, “Can an Organic Twinkie Be Certified?” Her answer was yes. One day, a Twinkie could very well be certified organic if 95 percent of its ingredients were. But, she was quick to note, it would not be healthy—nor would it reflect her vision of a food system defined by local, healthy, whole foods and not highly processed ones. 

I loved the last words of her New York Times obituary, which sounded every bit like the Joan I had been inspired by for years: “The day I die, I want to have a black thumb from where I hit it with a hammer and scratches on my hands from pruning the roses.”

Kate MacKenzie, Executive Director of New York City’s Mayor’s Office of Food Policy 

Joan Gussow has influenced my professional life more than any other. Twenty-five years ago, I started in the public health nutrition program at Teachers College, with a BS degree in Nutritional Sciences from Cornell. I often say that at Cornell, I learned everything about food after you swallow it, and everything about food before you eat it at TC, from Joan.

“Perhaps now more than ever, we have the responsibility of carrying her legacy forward, to meaningfully connect to real food for the health of our people and our environment.”

It was in her classes that I was introduced to topics like the corporate consolidation of the food system (or to even consider the words “food system”), the limits to population growth, how to feed the world, agricultural inputs like pesticides and organic practices, and the concepts of sustainability and local food. 

I remember one class when she was lecturing about the number of food products on grocery store shelves, and how over time, people were made to think there was just no more time to cook. Her simple response: that we have always had 24 hours in the day, and it’s the power of marketing and industry to convince us otherwise. These issues made me deeply curious and desirous to effectuate changing the food system.  

I’ve been doing that ever since graduating and I have met extraordinary leaders and visionaries throughout the U.S. and beyond. Many of those people have also been students of Joan’s. Perhaps now more than ever, we have the responsibility of carrying her legacy forward, to meaningfully connect to real food for the health of our people and our environment.

Marion Nestle, Paulette Goddard professor of nutrition, food studies, and public health emerita, New York University

I first met Joan in the late 1970s when I heard her give a talk in the Bay Area when I was teaching at the University of California San Francisco School of Medicine. I had never heard anyone talk about the need to link agricultural production to nutrition and health—food systems, we now call that—and it felt revelatory.

I am not alone in being inspired by her work. I have followed it with great admiration. Ahead of her time? Absolutely.

You have discovered that the food industry influences food choices? Try Joan’s “Who Pays the Piper,” from 1980.

You think food systems should be sustainable? See Joan’s “Dietary Guidelines for Sustainability,” written with Kate Clancy in 1986.

Her students at Columbia were so lucky to be in her orbit. I am beyond sad at her loss. 

Raj Patel, ​​author, activist, and research professor in the Lyndon B. Johnson School of Public Affairs at the University of Texas, Austin

Joan was so ahead of her time, I often wondered whether she thought the food movement revival a decade or two ago was just the history of the 1970s repeating, this time as farce. But she was always gracious, ready to celebrate the wins—and hurl imprecations at those who deserved them: the food industry, their shills, and the deer who ate from her garden. Recently, I re-read her classic lecture, “Women, Food, and the Survival of the Species,” plucked from the archives by Daniel Bowman Simon, and it reminded me of the abundance of her spirit, and the depth of our debt to her. 

Michael Pollan, author, journalist

Joan was one of my first and most influential teachers when it came to understanding food and agriculture as a system. (The other is Marion Nestle.) Joan saw the politics in all sorts of places people had trouble spotting it, such as the field of nutrition. We first met in the 1990s at the Culinary Institute of America, at a conference about genetically modified crops. She was formidable, and though I don’t recall what she said, it galvanized the room with its penetrating clarity. 

She was a master at connecting the dots, and the fact that most of us understand food and agriculture as a single system, linking policy, soil, nutrition, public health, and technology, owes in large part to the work Joan did. 

But she was much more than a theorist; indeed, she walked the talk, growing much of her own food on an oft-flooded piece of land right on the Hudson–a beautiful but perilous spot I had the privilege of visiting a couple of times. 

The phrase, “Eat food, not too much, mostly plants,” owes at least two words to Joan. When I was researching In Defense of Food, I asked her to sum up what she had learned about how best to eat, and she didn’t miss a beat: “Eat food.” As in, real food, whole foods, unprocessed foods. I embroidered her message a bit, with “mostly plants” and “not too much” but the basic message—which is that we don’t and shouldn’t eat nutrients–was Joan’s. She was an inspiration.

Tom Philpott, senior research associate at the Center for a Livable Future, Johns Hopkins University

Joan Dye Gussow has passed on, but her legacy and influence will live as long as we have ecosystems and natural resources worth defending. Like all of our best and brightest food-system intellectuals, Joan understood that humanity doesn’t exist separately from nature or ecology, but lives deeply embedded within them. We are as much a part of nature as the lion skulking the savanna, or the warbler winging it from the Adirondacks to the Caribbean islands for winter; it’s just that we exert much more influence over the ecosystems we touch. 

Joan elegantly summed up this concept in the title of her 1978 book, The Feeding Web: Issues In Nutritional Ecology. “Nutritional ecology”: The idea neatly connects our sustenance with the landscapes that feed us and provide sinks for our waste. Professionally, academically, she was a nutritionist, a field that evolved over decades in tight collaboration with corporate food giants, and too often reduced nutrition to a list of essential vitamins and minerals—commodities that, once injected into highly processed food, the idea went, make a health-giving diet. 

“Perhaps what I will remember most about Joan is the laughter, the caring, and the closeness we shared, sometimes verging on tears.”

Today, this ideology is finally unravelling under the weight of undeniable evidence. Joan rejected it more than a half century ago, and used her perch at Columbia University to launch broadsides against it.

By the time I met her in the late 2000s, Joan was a doyenne of the anti-industrial food movement, renowned for her advocacy in support of local and regional food systems, and for her legendary garden on the banks of the Hudson, not far from New York City. It meant a lot to hear her say she had read and appreciated my journalism work, and it was delightful to be able to tell her how much I had learned from her. She was a happy and inspiring warrior against the forces of industrial agriculture. 

And damn it, she was right. Her vision of robust local and regional food networks, bolstered by flourishing small- and mid-scale farms and justly compensated farm labor, represents a beacon for a livable future in an increasingly dystopian age. In a 2011 Civil Eats interview, she allowed that “compared to the reception my ideas got 30 years ago, it’s quite astonishing the reception they’re getting now,” citing the extraordinary artisanal food scenes emerging in places like Brooklyn. But, she added, “whether or not there’s going to be sea change in the whole system is so hard to judge.”

Hard to judge, and harder still to achieve. It’s up to us, the generations she inspired, to make it so. I never managed to take her up on the invitation to visit her Hudson Valley garden. May it flourish in her memory forever. I still hope to see it someday.

Two woman stand in a field of tall grass with a body of water behind them, with arms around each of their shoulders and smiling in the sun

Joan Dye Gussow with Urvashi Rangan. Photo courtesy of Rangan.

Urvashi Rangan, founding co-chair, Funders for Regenerative Agriculture (FORA) and chief science advisor, GRACE Communications Foundation 

I had the immense pleasure of sharing in Joan’s professional and personal life. As a young scientist, I remember presenting to a nutrition conference and Joan was in the front row and asked many great questions. From then, I always knew to seek her professional opinion on the harms of industrial ag practices and the benefits of organic production. She then invited me to lecture in her classes and always wanted to know the latest goings-on in food politics.   

Perhaps what I will remember most about Joan is the laughter, the caring, and the closeness we shared, sometimes verging on tears. I remember one conversation about gut microbiomes and people reseeding with poop from other people. We decided that Joan’s poop would be worth more than gold since her biome had only eaten organic food forever.  

Despite the 40 years between us, I found Joan to be one of my closest and dear friends and one of the youngest people I have known. I remember leaving a conference in NYC together where she gave the keynote, and while we were driving home, she looked at me and said, “My God, Urvashi, there were some really old people there.” Joan wasn’t talking about age, but mindset (and she was so right).  

And while she may have been the oldest person in the room, her mind and heart were youthful, yet wise. I used to tell her that when I grew up, I wanted to be just like her. She was a teacher until the end, in the classroom and out. I will miss her immensely and will cherish all of the times we had together. 

Michael Sligh, founding chair, National Organic Standards Board

Joan was that rare breed of academic, activist, and farmer. She helped us bridge movements and she was always on the right side of the fight. Tough as nails and a heart of gold. She will be missed.

Kerry Trueman, sustainability advocate

Joan was a dear friend and mentor to me, as she was to so many people. I became a die-hard devotee of her work after reading her first memoir, This Organic Life. We became friends several decades ago when she gave a talk at The New School. After she spoke, she mingled with the attendees, and I was so excited at the prospect of meeting her that I transcended my shyness to tell her how she had inspired me to plant pawpaws in my yard. Joan, in her inimitable acerbic-yet-affectionate way, liked to say that I had “stalked” her. She once called me her “favorite beneficial pest,” which, coming from her, was a thrilling compliment.

What an honor it was to collaborate with her, to be a guest at so many memorable meals in her lovely home, to work side by side with her to restore her legendary garden after the Hudson River flooded it. The second time the river rose up to swallow her garden, she rose even higher, literally, by raising the soil level to accommodate the consequences of climate change. Her refusal to throw in the trowel in the wake of such destruction was quintessential Joan. 

Her perseverance was just one of Joan’s many admirable traits, another being that she was not a purist. For her, eating locally meant being a regular at her local diner, regardless of how they sourced their eggs and bacon. How grateful I am to have known her.

An African American woman farmer is hugged by an elder farmer

Karen Washington with Joan Gassow. Photo courtesy of Washington.

Karen Washington, farmer, activist, and co-founder of Black Urban Growers

Joan was such a kind and loving person. Her first act of kindness was to invite me and my gardeners from the Bronx to come visit and have lunch. Many of them did not speak English, but were able to enjoy her company, her garden, and the food. She loved people and was willing to share her home with strangers. 

We became close as board members of Just Food. Her knowledge and wisdom of the food system was incredible. She taught me to be courageous and not sit by and allow things to happen, but to challenge things that were hard. I loved her so much and will miss her, but I will carry a piece of her in my work to fight against injustice.

Alice Waters, chef, author, food activist, founder of Chez Panisse and The Edible Schoolyard

Joan had a HUGE influence on my life and my thinking. “Eat locally, think globally” became my motto for Chez Panisse, and now for school food purchasing everywhere.

The post Remembering Joan Gussow appeared first on Civil Eats.

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A Different Kind of Materialism

Tamar Adler’s food writing doubles as a philosophy of kitchen scraps.

Broccoli stems don’t tend to rouse strong emotions. Most home cooks toss them in the trash or compost without a second thought. But when I threw out some broccoli stalks—tough and woody ones, let it be known—while cooking dinner recently, guilt overcame me. I could have pickled those stalks; I could have boiled them and turned them into pesto. Instead, I had turned them into landfill.Waste is endemic to American cooking and eating. The Department of Agriculture estimates that the country loses or throws away 30 to 40 percent of its food supply. But my stem shame didn’t come solely from this staggering fact, or from environmental consciousness. Though I was alone in my kitchen, I said quietly, “Sorry, Tamar.”Tamar is Tamar Adler, a former chef who has made a career of writing about humble ingredients, especially leftovers and scraps. Her 2011 book, An Everlasting Meal, an elegant manifesto urging readers to use every single thing that enters their kitchens, is the only reason pickling a stem has ever crossed my mind. Adler’s goal isn’t to guilt her audience: She wants to get cooks excited about kitchen refuse, to help them see cast-offs as ingredients in their own right. She wrote An Everlasting Meal, she told me recently, to convince people that when you throw usable food scraps away, “you’re just creating an extra problem for yourself—a dual problem.” Not only do you have more garbage to deal with, you also have to go buy more food.Beneath that pragmatic language lies a fundamentally spiritual approach to the problem of waste. Adler is concerned with both the environmental toll of trash and the prevalence of food insecurity in the United States—“We’re talking about aesthetics for the rich people and hunger for the poor,” she said angrily—but, as befits somebody who describes herself as “pretty woo-woo,” she also empathizes with the scraps. In her latest book, a kitchen diary called Feast on Your Life, Adler describes an audience member at an event who asked why Adler cared so deeply about leftovers. She writes, “I answered that it was because I love things so much. Because I am, most of the time, seized by a love for everything, awash in the tireless function of creation, the relentlessness of the world’s making. When you feel that, it is hard to throw anything away.”In general, Adler approaches her work more like a philosopher poet than a food writer. Her prose is distinctive and beautiful, with a slight but discernible theological bent. At the start of An Everlasting Meal, she notes that cooking with leftovers mirrors the behavior of nature, and she urges readers to “imagine if the world had to begin from scratch each dawn: a tree would never grow, nor would we ever get to see the etchings of gentle rings on a clamshell.” Shortly after, she interrupts her instructions on boiling—start potatoes and eggs in cold water, but drop leafy vegetables “at the last second into a bubble as big as your fist”—to remind her audience that “ecclesiastical writers on the subject point out that in the beginning there was water, all life proceeded from water, there was water in Eden.”[Read: Foodie culture as we know it is over]This is not the sort of writing that accompanies most recipes. It’s odd and earnest, impractical in that it doesn’t contain clear instructions and is not designed to awaken readers’ appetites for a specific dish. Rather, the book is meant to make its audience want to cook something, anything, everything. Adler’s existential intensity is such that An Everlasting Meal reminds me less of culinarily similar cookbooks such as Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat, by her fellow Chez Panisse alum, Samin Nosrat, than of more sweeping pronouncements such as Rainer Maria Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet and Wendell Berry’s The Unsettling of America, which offer grand philosophical approaches to poetry and farming, respectively. Berry, in fact, is an inspiration to Adler; she said that reading his work helped her articulate and embrace her sense that there’s an “innate holiness to all things.” This belief is the ethos of her books. It’s the reason she can make a waste-avoidance strategy like core-and-stem pesto sound delicious, even luxurious. I’ve learned that it can be, despite the effort, which sometimes overwhelms me.I asked Adler whether she, too, grows overwhelmed by her philosophy, or struggles to live by it every day. Surely she tosses out the occasional scrap—composts it, at least—when no readers are looking. But no, she said: She saves everything, no matter how tired she is. She was cleaning mushrooms the night before we spoke, and “there were all these little bits that I couldn’t really put into the pan because they were going to get burned, and they had a lot of dirt and pine needles stuck on them,” she said. “I really tried to force myself to just throw them out, and I couldn’t do it. I put them in a plastic bag. They’re in the freezer.” Someday, I’d wager, they will emerge to flavor beans or soup.To Adler, this practice is neither a compulsion nor a burden. (“Only for my husband,” she cracked when I asked about the latter.) Yet she understands—sort of—that not all readers will want to follow every bit of her advice. Anything that’s “stressing you out and feeling like a chore,” she said, you just shouldn’t do, even if that means the only practice you take from her books is using cheese rinds, which can sit ignored for months without danger, to later season a slow-cooking meal. She denies having ever been a purist, but when she wrote An Everlasting Meal, she was certainly more of an evangelist than she is now. She was coming straight from Chez Panisse, a restaurant famous for doing things by hand as an expression of reverence for its ingredients; she also hadn’t yet had a child. Only such a person could write, as she does in that book, “Unless you are an aspiring laser beam, your microwave won’t teach you anything. Use yours as a bookshelf, or to store gadgets you don’t use.” Now she sees that as “a little bit preachy.” She’s less interested in converting her audience to cooking her precise way than in sharing the habits and tendencies that allow her to cook good food easily, which to her means cooking without using hard-to-get ingredients or fussy techniques. (Also, she’s got a microwave in her new apartment, and she loves how quickly it lets her thaw food.)Ease seems to have become central to Adler’s thinking in the years between An Everlasting Meal and Feast on Your Life, though she understands it quite differently than many home cooks. In 2023, exhausted from writing that year’s scrap-use encyclopedia An Everlasting Meal Cookbook, she “went through a glorious period of just throwing things out.” She recalled a jar of chili crisp that “was empty; all the chili crisp was out of it. But instead of keeping it, and then cracking an egg into it to then put in fried rice, I rinsed out the jar and recycled it.” She’s remembered that jar for two years—which is to say she’s spent two years remembering the egg she could’ve made. It would have been a good egg.This reveals Adler’s true understanding of ease. For her, scrap saving is the single easiest way to produce flavorful food: The more bits of mushroom you can toss in your broth, the better that broth will be. This will certainly be true once you’re in the habit of freezing those mushroom bits—and yet it works only for a person with time to make broth at home. While An Everlasting Meal seemed not to remember the other sorts of people, Feast on Your Life shows glimmers of idiosyncratic anger on their behalf. An insulated mug that she borrows from her brother throws Adler into “internal disarray at a good invention—double-wall insulation—pressed into the service of constant productivity.” This, she told me, came from an entirely different place than her earlier reaction to the microwave: not a lack of comprehension of rushing, but a fury at “the structures that make us have to rush.”[Read: The culture war comes to the kitchen]Feast on Your Life also reveals a deep exasperation with fussy cooking, which Adler sees as both a cause of waste and an enemy of home-cooking ease. All she does, to borrow a phrase she uses in her newsletter, is turn things “from raw to cooked”; early in the book, she describes a simple farro soup that “tasted like water, beans, grains, vegetables. Why do we make eating complicated? Here, says Creation: Eat this! What should we say but, Thank you!” In reading this line, with its explicitly spiritual appreciation of simplicity, I registered the resemblance between Adler’s work and the prayers that observant Jews say to thank God for creating the ingredients of every meal they eat. Adler was raised Jewish, but she spent many years feeling distant from the religion because, pre-meal blessings aside, it tends to be grounded far more in interpreting scripture than in the physical world. Food and cooking, she said, “provided me an alternative, a material path.” It delivered her to something close to kitchen animism: a world in which ingredients come to life. When she tells readers of An Everlasting Meal about prepping their greens, she suggests that they just “wash everyone together.”This spirituality can sometimes verge on preciousness. I asked Adler whether she worries about this, and she said yes—or almost yes. Her dedication to saving every scrap “sounds ridiculous when I say it,” she conceded. But she sees that issue as a “style problem”: a failure of her writing, not a sign that her approach goes too far. My impression is that she’s far more interested in respecting resources—which to her always means maximizing them—than she is in sounding grounded or accessible. This conviction is the steel core of her books. It makes her writing, beneath its flights of verbal and metaphysical fancy, insistent and unembarrassed, willing to go too far (as with the microwave) in the service of what are, really, not so much habits as ideals. It also enables her to evolve (again, the microwave).Adler seems to believe more deeply in enjoying her meals than I think I believe in anything. Far more than any culinary trick or skill I’ve gathered from reading her over the years, this dedication is what brings me back to her work. Its frank strangeness, whether or not it converts you to stem saving, is a prime example of what I consider her books’ greatest pleasure: They let you visit lives and minds—and, in this case, kitchens—that may be nothing like your own.

Can smart greenhouses bring back food production in cities?

Hidden in city car parks or warehouses, smart greenhouses promise to bring farming back to the city. But can these technology boost resilience?

Sydney, like many other Australian cities, has a long history of urban farming. Market gardens, oyster fisheries and wineries on urban fringe once supplied fresh food to city markets. As suburbs expanded, many farms in and around cities were converted to houses, roads and parks. The process is continuing. But this isn’t the whole story. Urban farming is making a comeback in a different guise. Underneath the Barangaroo towers in Sydney’s CBD, a basement carpark has been transformed into a farm. Trays of more than 40 different varieties of sprouts and microgreens grow under LED lights, often maturing within two weeks. Within hours of harvest, they’re in the kitchens of nearby restaurants. The urban farmers use sensors, ventilation systems and smartphone apps to ensure growing conditions are ideal. From around 150 square metres, farmers produce about 5,000 punnets a week. Farms such as this one at Urban Green Sydney are part of a broader shift towards high-tech urban farming. In my research, we asked what these new forms of urban farming mean for cities. Do they make cities and their far-flung food supply chains more resilient to climate change – or do they consume energy without enough to show for it? Urban smart greenhouses work well for microgreens, herbs and several other crops. Vera Xia, CC BY-NC-ND Greenhouse – or laboratory? Greenhouses are a way of controlling the growing conditions for plants. The technology has deep historical roots, from early greenhouse experiments during the Roman Empire to progress in 15th century Korea and advances during the Victorian era such as the Wardian Case, which allowed live plants to survive long sea voyages. Traditional greenhouses act as climate-controlled enclosures for plants. These days, smart greenhouses use sensors and digital monitoring to optimise, and often automate, plant growth. Large-scale rural farms such as South Australia’s Sundrop Farms already demonstrate how smart greenhouses, renewable energy and desalination can power food production in harsh climates. Overseas, countries including Spain and China have rolled out smart greenhouses at scale in rural areas. But these technologies are being urbanised, appearing in commercial buildings, rooftops and even domestic kitchens. One of the best places to see what smart greenhouses look like is the Agritech Precinct at Western Sydney University. Here, researchers experiment with the “unprecedented control” of temperature, humidity and light the technologies permit on crops such as eggplants and lettuce. The greenhouses use drones to water crops, robotic arms to harvest them and smart lighting systems to manage growth. Visiting these facilities doesn’t give you the sense you’re in a farm. It feels more like a laboratory. Technologies like these are promoted in official plans for Greater Sydney, which call for “new opportunities for growing fresh food close to a growing population and freight export infrastructure associated with the Western Sydney Airport”, particularly in Sydney’s peri-urban areas. Australia is funding research on improving these technologies as a way to future-proof food production. Researchers are conducting similar experiments with smart greenhouses around the world, from the United States to the Netherlands. Which crops work best in cities? Smart greenhouses can’t do everything. Grain crops need much more space. Fruit trees don’t work well with space constraints. Some vegetable crops don’t lend themselves well to intense high-tech production. The cost of running LED lights and smart systems mean farmers have to focus on what’s profitable. Many hyped urban farming ventures have failed. These challenges don’t mean the approach is worthless. But it does mean farmers have to be selective about what they grow. To date, crops such as tomatoes, leafy greens, and herbs have proven the best performers. These crops can be grown relatively quickly in space-restricted, repurposed urban areas mostly hidden from public view and sold to restaurants or individual buyers. Smart greenhouses producing these type of crops have emerged in Melbourne, Perth and Adelaide. Urban farmers often draw on the promise of sustainability and low food miles in their branding. But the technologies raise questions around equity. Do these farms share environmental and social benefits fairly across the city or are they concentrated in a few rich areas? Smart greenhouses can optimise plant growing conditions – but come at an energy cost. Ann H/Pexels, CC BY-NC-ND Smart greenhouse technology – at home? The humble veggie patch is an Australian staple. But the shift to apartment living and larger building sizes risks crowding it out. At household scale, smart greenhouses and apps are making it possible for some people to begin producing larger volumes of food in kitchens, balconies and backyards as a DIY method of boosting food security and self-sufficiency. Compact growing appliances promise to automate production of fresh herbs and baby vegetables. Hydroponic grow tents can grow almost anything indoors (though they are commonly used for illicit crops). Maker communities are using open-source tools such as Hackster to automate watering, lighting and data collection. Using these technologies at home seems positive, acting to boost home-grown food supplies and increase resilience in the face of food supply chain issues. In fact, it’s perhaps the most uneven frontier. Rather than working to spread smart agriculture across a cityscape, these approaches resemble prepping – efforts to boost individual household resilience. Making best use of smart greenhouses in cities At their best, smart greenhouses dotted around cities work to create controlled environments where food can be produced close to where it is eaten. These high-tech, climate controlled environments are often hidden from view. They promise resilience against the disruption climate change is bringing to agriculture and shorter supply chains. But these food production technologies also risk deepening inequality if they’re mainly taken up by wealthy consumers. Whether these technologies ultimately benefit cities will depend on how they are integrated and positioned within our urban systems. For urban authorities, the challenge is to ensure these emerging methods of producing food in the heart of cities boosts resilience collectively rather than fragment it. It will take policy guidance to ensure the benefits of these smart farms are shared equally. Vera Xia does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

A second sighting of this invasive species has Oregon wildlife officials concerned

Wildlife officials worry people may illegally import these creatures for food, then release them into Oregon waters.

A Chinese mitten crab was discovered in the Willamette River near the Sellwood Bridge in late November, the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife said. It’s at least the second sighting of the invasive species in Oregon this year. State officials are working with the federal government, Portland State University and other agencies to investigate whether more of the 3-inch crabs are living in the Willamette.Chinese mitten crabs, which live in freshwater, could impact Oregon’s fish and crayfish populations by eating local species or fish eggs and competing for food, the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife says. Oregon’s native crabs live along the coast. The Chinese mitten crab lives its adult life in freshwater, while Oregon's native crabs live along the coast. Oregon Department of Fish and WildlifeThe agency previously warned that the crabs “caused significant infrastructure and ecological damage in and around San Francisco Bay when the population was at its height in the late 1990s.”They are illegal to have or to sell in Oregon. Latest environmental newsMitten crabs can be identified by several distinctive features: a notch between the eyes, four spines on each side of the carapace and hairy mitten-like claws. The crabs’ color varies from greenish-brown to brownish-orange, according to an agency news release.Anyone who catches a Chinese mitten crab is asked to report it with the location to 1-866-INVADER or through an online invasive species hotline. - Kjerstin Gabrielson contributed to this report.

The way Australia produces food is unique. Our updated dietary guidelines have to recognise this

Australia’s dietary guidelines will soon consider environmental impacts. We need locally relevant indicators to support more sustainable food production.

Mandy McKeesick/GettyYou might know Australia’s dietary guidelines from the famous infographics showing the types and quantities of foods we should eat to have a healthy diet. Last updated 12 years ago, the National Health and Medical Research Council is now revising them to consider not only how food affects our health but also how sustainable our foods are. At least 37 other countries have already added sustainability to their dietary guidelines. Many countries use global load indicators to assess the environmental impact of specific foods, based on the planetary boundaries within which humanity can safely operate. While useful to compare between countries, these indicators don’t match Australia’s environmental risks and priorities. Unlike many other countries, locally produced food represents around 90% of what Australians eat. The environmental footprint of these foods is shaped almost entirely by the country’s unique landscapes, climates and farming systems. Our recent research suggests forthcoming guidelines need to take local conditions into account. If global load indicators are the sole way to measure impact, the guidelines won’t capture Australia’s specific environmental challenges in producing food. Local indicators matter Global load indicators include greenhouse gas emissions, how much land is used per kilo of food, water use, land and water pollution and biodiversity loss. This is how we get common figures such as the statistic that it takes 1,670 litres of water to produce 1 kilogram of rice. While global measures are useful in comparing between countries and products, they don’t always match local environmental risks and priorities. For example, using 1,670L of water to produce a kilo of rice in the contested and controlled Murray Darling Basin will have a different impact compared to using the same volume in Western Australia’s Kununurra irrigation system, where water is more abundant and has fewer alternative uses. Growing a kilo of rice in Italy will differ again. If we want dietary guidelines to encourage real improvements on farm and in rural landscapes, environmental indicators must reflect the challenges rural stakeholders actually face. Consumer preferences have already shifted several food production systems. Rising demand for free-range eggs and grass-fed beef has changed how farmers operate. It’s important to get this right. One size does not fit all Australia’s agricultural lands are diverse. By area, more than 80% of our farmland falls in the rangelands. Here, cattle and sheep graze with minimal human intervention on vast tropical savannas, woodlands, shrublands and grasslands. Low rainfall and poor soils mean livestock are kept at low densities. Other food production options haven’t proved viable. If we used global load indicators, food from rangelands would be assessed as having a high environmental impact due to large land use, lots of potentially polluting nutrients (dung and urine) and use of rainfall to grow forage vegetation. But the main environmental issues for Australia’s rangelands are different, including methane emissions from livestock, land degradation, invasive weeds such as buffel grass and biodiversity loss. Australian food production systems are diverse. Rangelands and natural pasture account for the largest area, followed by mixed crop-livestock zones (in light blue and yellow). Author provided, CC BY-NC-ND Australia’s next largest area of agriculture is mixed crop and livestock, found in regions such as the Mallee in Victoria and Western Australia’s Wheatbelt. Most crops and 40% of livestock are produced in these areas, characterised by reliable rainfall patterns and low to medium rainfall of around 250–450 millimetres a year. Farming here can make soils more acid due to high levels of nitrogen from fertilisers, alongside issues such as dryland salinity, erosion, biodiversity loss and greenhouse gas emissions. These issues have degraded some land so much it can’t sustain farming. For these two types of agriculture, local indicators work better. By contrast, the intensive and productive irrigated farms of the Murray–Darling Basin have environmental impacts more aligned to global indicators. Environmental issues here include greenhouse gases, competition for land and water use, nutrient pollution (primarily fertilisers) and biodiversity loss. Good for your health – and the environment? While previous Australian studies have assessed the environmental footprint of different foods or focused on a narrow description of environmental impact derived from overseas studies, these haven’t accounted for local environmental priorities or trade-offs. Trade-offs are common. For instance, plant-based diets may result in lower greenhouse gas emissions but can increase pressure on soil health and biodiversity, as crops are commonly grown as monocultures with high fertiliser and pesticide use. Common Australian diets mixing plant and animal foods can have a lower impact on biodiversity and soil health but higher greenhouse gas emissions, as mixed diets entail a more diverse range of cultivated plants and animals but rely more on methane-producing livestock. Recognising and balancing these trade-offs will be essential if Australia’s updated dietary guidelines are to support healthy people and a healthy environment. What’s next? Ideally, Australia’s updated dietary guidelines will capture the unique pressures and challenges of producing food locally. This won’t be easy, given impacts will vary across different foods, regions and production systems. But the tools are already available. Farm software can track every aspect of the production in a local environmental context, making it possible to predict impacts on the natural capital of individual farms – if agreements to share and aggregate data can be negotiated. Gathering these data will allow local environmental indicators to be embedded in dietary guidelines. If this is done, it will become possible to link recommended diets to sustainability reporting. Farms, retailers and banks are increasingly required to report sustainability metrics, which can be linked to foods. That means Australians could see the environmental credentials of their food on the labels, based not on global averages – but on how the specific farm is doing. David Masters has previously received research funding from research and development corporations including Meat and Livestock Australia. He is a member of the National Health and Medical Research Council's Sustainability Working Group. The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the authors alone and do not represent the views of NHMRC or the working group. David Lemon receives funding from the National Farmers' Federation. Dianne Mayberry has received funding from research and development corporations including Meat and Livestock Australia and the Grains Research and Development Corporation.Sonja Dominik works for CSIRO Agriculture and Food. She has previously received funding from the National Farmers' Federation and research and development corporations.

11 Foods Experts Say Can Boost Your Brain Health And Help Ward Off Dementia

“Proper nutrition is the foundation upon which our mental acuity and vitality rest."

Chris Stein via Getty ImagesBroccoli contains sulforaphane, which has been linked to reduced inflammation and improved brain health.Most people know which foods to avoid for a healthy heart. Yet, do you often think about the foods you eat and how they affect the brain? It’s been scientifically proven that diet can influence brain health. “The brain represents about 2% of our body weight, but it consumes about 20% of all of our calories,” said Dr. Robert Melillo, a brain researcher, clinician, autism expert, and founder of The Melillo Center in Long Island, New York. “The brain uses more calories than any other organ in our body; what we eat can have a big impact on our brain.”Diet and nutrition are essential to keep the brain healthy. “Proper nutrition is the foundation upon which our mental acuity and vitality rest,” said Dr. Brett Osborn, a board-certified neurosurgeon and the chief of neurosurgery at St. Mary’s Medical Center in Jupiter, Florida. “Just as we care for our bodies through exercise and a balanced diet, nurturing our brains through the right foods is essential for a vibrant and youthful mind.”Although scientists still don’t know what causes Alzheimer’s disease, a type of dementia, many think diet and environmental factors play a role. One study in the journal Neurology, published in November 2022, showed that increasing foods high in flavonoids showed it lowered the chances of developing dementia. “The two major groups of factors driving Alzheimer’s are reduced energetics —blood flow, oxygen saturation, mitochondrial function and ketones — and increased inflammation from various pathogens, toxins and metabolic disease,” explained Dr. Dale Bredesen, a neuroscience researcher and neurodegenerative disease expert. “Diet and environmental factors impact both energetics and inflammation, by multiple mechanisms, and therefore play key roles in both Alzheimer’s and treating cognitive decline.”According to Dr. Philip Gold, the chief of neuroendocrine research and senior investigator at the National Institute of Mental Health, “The key positive environmental influences include exercise, which is extremely important, level of education, and cognitive ‘exercise’ throughout life.” Getting sufficient sleep is also key. “Adequate sleep is also critical because, in part, it is during sleep that the brain repairs itself,” he said. Regularly eating foods that are not good for you can have negative consequences on both the body and the brain. “An unhealthy diet may negatively impact gut microbiota, leading to inflammation and potentially influencing the brain,” Osborn said. “Obese people ― most of whom have an unhealthy gut microbiome ― are at a marked risk for the development of Alzheimer’s dementia,” he added.So which foods are the most beneficial for brain health? The experts break it down below.Claudia Totir via Getty ImagesGood news for fans of avocado toast (and eggs!).AvocadoLove eating guacamole, mashing avocado on toast or dicing it into a salad or rice bowl? Avocados have healthy monounsaturated fats, and according to Bredesen, “These help to reduce vascular disease, and provide excellent energy for the brain, without the problems associated with simple carbs or saturated fats.”BroccoliWhether you like broccoli steamed with melted cheese on top, in stir-fries or as a veggie you sneak into your smoothie, you may want to find more ways to enjoy this crunchy vegetable. “Broccoli is a cruciferous vegetable that contains compounds like sulforaphane, which have been linked to reduced inflammation and improved brain health,” Osborn said. A 2019 study published in the journal Brain Circulation shows sulforaphane is an important antioxidant, and has anti-inflammatory properties that shows potential to protect the nervous system and reduce the burden of pervasive diseases on the body. BlueberriesIf you like to add blueberries to your morning bowl of yogurt, your brain will thank you. “Blueberries contain flavonoids, which are neuroprotective and have been shown to increase neuroplasticity and cerebral blood flow,” said Lynn A. Schaefer, Ph.D, a board-certified clinical neuropsychologist in Long Island. A randomized, double-blind placebo-controlled study published in Nutritional Neuroscience in 2022 showed older adults who consumed wild blueberries had an increase in processing speed, suggesting blueberries may slow down cognitive decline.And these small berries are full of antioxidants, including anthocyanins. Osborn says anthocyanins can “help protect the brain from oxidative stress and inflammation.” He eats blueberries daily, either in a smoothie or on top of a salad.EggsEggs are known for being a good protein option, especially for those who are vegetarian or follow a plant-based diet. And there’s another reason to celebrate eggs: the yolk contains choline. Choline is an essential nutrient and important to produce acetylcholine. “Acetylcholine is a neurotransmitter that is very important for the parasympathetic nervous system, and important for memory,” Melillo explained. Choline is found in different foods, but the highest concentration is in egg yolks. According to Gold, “Critical to normal cognition, acetylcholine neurotransmission is pronouncedly decreased in Alzheimer’s disease.”Claudia Totir via Getty ImagesSalmon is a fatty fish that's high in omega-3 fatty acids.Fatty fishSalmon, sardines and mackerel are examples of fatty fish that contain omega-3 fatty acid. “These essential fats are crucial for maintaining brain health and have been linked to improved memory, mood regulation, and reduced risk of cognitive decline,” Osborn said. Omega-3 fatty acids are also important for creating new nerve cells and protecting brain cells from damage, according to Gold. Leafy greensDoctors and nutritionists encourage patients to eat more leafy greens because they are packed with nutrients. “Leafy greens such as spinach and kale are packed with vitamins, minerals and antioxidants,” Osborn said. “They promote healthy brain function by reducing inflammation and improving cognitive performance.” Magnesium is an important mineral in leafy greens — Melillo says it helps relax the body, lowering blood pressure and the effects of stress. TunaTuna is a low-fat fish and contains the amino acid tyrosine, an important component for producing neurotransmitters in the brain. “Tyrosine is used for making dopamine and norepinephrine, two of the main neurotransmitters in the brain,” Melillo explained. “Dopamine is more of a left brain neurotransmitter and norepinephrine is more of a right brain neurotransmitter.” Tuna also contains high concentrations of creatine. “Creatine facilitates the entry of water into brain and muscle cells to prevent their dehydration,” Gold said. TurmericSpices provide plenty of flavor and as a bonus can have important compounds that the body needs. Turmeric is a common ingredient that is grated or chopped fresh, or used as a powder in curries. “Turmeric, which contains curcumin, is remarkable in that it has anti-inflammatory effects, and also binds to both the amyloid and tau associated with Alzheimer’s disease, so it has multiple mechanisms to support brain health,” Bredesen said.A study published in the journal Molecules in February 2023 showed curcumin to be antimicrobial and neuroprotective in a variety of neurodegenerative diseases, including Alzheimer’s disease. GingerAnother spice used in both fresh and powdered form is ginger. “Ginger is a potent anti-inflammatory agent that has been shown to enhance cognitive function,” Osborn said. “The antioxidant effects are also thought to protect neurons against oxidative stress that underpin neurodegenerative diseases, such as Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s disease.”Ginkgo bilobaGinkgo biloba is known to enhance memory and cognitive function. “It is believed to improve blood flow to the brain and protect brain cells from oxidative damage,” Dr. Osborn. “Some research supports its potential benefits in age-related cognitive decline.”Fermented foodsFermented foods, such as kimchi, kefir, kombucha, sauerkraut and yogurt may also be beneficial for the brain. “Research has established that the brain and gut communicate through the nervous system as well as through the immune system,” Schaefer said. “Therefore, changing the bacteria in the gut with probiotics and prebiotics, and not overdoing antibiotics, may play a role in improving brain functioning.”According to Osborn, “Foods that cultivate a healthy microbiome will likely serve as ‘medicines’ to remedy or slow the onset of all age-related diseases, including those affecting the brain.”

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