I write about food. I write about cooking. I take it quite seriously, but I'm here to talk about something that's become very important to me in the last year or two. It is about food, but it's not about cooking, per se. I'm going to start with this picture of a beautiful cow. I'm not a vegetarian -- this is the old Nixon line, right? But I still think that this -- (Laughter) -- may be this year's version of this.
Ja pišem o hrani. Pišem o kulinarstvu. To shvatam prilično ozbiljno. ali, ovde sam da bih govorio o nečemu što mi je u poslednjih godinu, dve dana postalo jako važno. Radi se o hrani, ali ne o samom kuvanju. Počeću sa ovom slikom lepe krave. Nisam vegetarijanac - ovo je stara Niksonova izreka, zar ne? Ali i dalje mislim da ovo - (Smeh) - može biti ovogodišnja verzija ovoga.
Now, that is only a little bit hyperbolic. And why do I say it? Because only once before has the fate of individual people and the fate of all of humanity been so intertwined. There was the bomb, and there's now. And where we go from here is going to determine not only the quality and the length of our individual lives, but whether, if we could see the Earth a century from now, we'd recognize it. It's a holocaust of a different kind, and hiding under our desks isn't going to help. Start with the notion that global warming is not only real, but dangerous. Since every scientist in the world now believes this, and even President Bush has seen the light, or pretends to, we can take this is a given.
Sada, mozda samo malo preuveličavam. A zašto to kažem? Zato što su samo jednom ranije sudbina pojedinačnih ljudi i sudbina celog čovečanstva bile toliko isprepletane. Tada je bila bomba, a i sada je. I kuda idemo odavde će odrediti ne samo kvalitet i dužinu naših individualnih života već i da li, kad bismo mogli da vidimo zemlju za jedan vek, bismo je prepoznali. Ovo je holokaust druge vrste i skrivanje ispod stolova neće pomoći. Počnite sa činjenicom da globalno zagrevanje nije samo stvarno, već i opasno. Pošto svaki naučnik u svetu sada u ovo veruje a čak je i predsednik Buš to priznao ili se samo pretvara, možemo to uzeti zdravo za gotovo.
Then hear this, please. After energy production, livestock is the second-highest contributor to atmosphere-altering gases. Nearly one-fifth of all greenhouse gas is generated by livestock production -- more than transportation. Now, you can make all the jokes you want about cow farts, but methane is 20 times more poisonous than CO2, and it's not just methane. Livestock is also one of the biggest culprits in land degradation, air and water pollution, water shortages and loss of biodiversity. There's more. Like half the antibiotics in this country are not administered to people, but to animals. But lists like this become kind of numbing, so let me just say this: if you're a progressive, if you're driving a Prius, or you're shopping green, or you're looking for organic, you should probably be a semi-vegetarian. Now, I'm no more anti-cattle than I am anti-atom, but it's all in the way we use these things. There's another piece of the puzzle, which Ann Cooper talked about beautifully yesterday, and one you already know.
A onda molim vas, slušajte ovo: nakon proizvodnje energije, stoka je drugi po redu doprinosilac gasovima koji menjaju atmosferu. Skoro jedna petina svih gasova sa efektom staklene bašte nastaje uzgojem stoke - više nego transportom. Sad, možete da zbijate koje god hoćete šale o kravljim prdežima, ali metan je 20 puta otrovinji od CO2, a ne radi se samo o metanu. Stoka je takođe i najveći krivac za degradaciju zemljišta, zagađenje vazduha i vode, nestašice vode i gubitka biološke raznovrsnosti. Ima toga još. Oko pola totalne količine antibiotika u ovoj državi se ne daje ljudima, već životinjama. Ali liste ovog tipa postaju na neki način tupe, zato mi dozvolite da kažem samo ovo: ako ste napredni, ako vozite "Prijus" ili ako kupujete ekološki, ili ako tražite organsko, onda bi verovatno trebalo da budete polu-vegetarijanac. E sada, ja nisam ništa više protiv krava, nego što sam protiv atoma, ali sve je u načinu na koji koristimo te stvari. Postoji još jedan deo slagalice o kome je En Kuper juče divno govorila, onaj koji već poznajete.
There's no question, none, that so-called lifestyle diseases -- diabetes, heart disease, stroke, some cancers -- are diseases that are far more prevalent here than anywhere in the rest of the world. And that's the direct result of eating a Western diet. Our demand for meat, dairy and refined carbohydrates -- the world consumes one billion cans or bottles of Coke a day -- our demand for these things, not our need, our want, drives us to consume way more calories than are good for us. And those calories are in foods that cause, not prevent, disease. Now global warming was unforeseen. We didn't know that pollution did more than cause bad visibility. Maybe a few lung diseases here and there, but, you know, that's not such a big deal. The current health crisis, however, is a little more the work of the evil empire. We were told, we were assured, that the more meat and dairy and poultry we ate, the healthier we'd be.
Nema sumnje - nikakve - da su tzv. oboljenja izazvana životnim stilovima - dijabetes, srčana oboljenja, infarkti i neki rakovi - bolesti koje su mnogo više zastupljene ovde (SAD) nego bilo gde drugo u svetu. To je direktna posledica zapadnjačke ishrane. Naša potražnja za mesom, mlečnim proizvodima i prerađenim ugljenim hidratima - svet dnevno troši jednu milijardu limenki ili flaša "Koka Kole" - naša potražnja tih stvari, ne naša potreba, naša želja - nas navodi da unosimo mnogo više kalorija nego što je to za nas dobro. A te kalorje se nalaze u hrani koja prouzrokuje, a ne onoj koja sprečava, bolesti. Globalno zagrevanje je bilo nepredviđeno. Nismo znali da je zagađenje učinilo išta osim što je prouzrokovalo lošu vidljivost. Možda po koje plućno oboljenje tu i tamo, ali znate, to i nije tako velika stvar. Međutim, trenutna zdravstvena kriza je nešto više od dela zlog carstva. Rečeno nam je, ubeđivali su nas, da što više mesa i mlečnih proizvoda jedemo zdraviji ćemo biti.
No. Overconsumption of animals, and of course, junk food, is the problem, along with our paltry consumption of plants. Now, there's no time to get into the benefits of eating plants here, but the evidence is that plants -- and I want to make this clear -- it's not the ingredients in plants, it's the plants. It's not the beta-carotene, it's the carrot. The evidence is very clear that plants promote health. This evidence is overwhelming at this point. You eat more plants, you eat less other stuff, you live longer. Not bad. But back to animals and junk food. What do they have in common? One: we don't need either of them for health. We don't need animal products, and we certainly don't need white bread or Coke. Two: both have been marketed heavily, creating unnatural demand. We're not born craving Whoppers or Skittles. Three: their production has been supported by government agencies at the expense of a more health- and Earth-friendly diet.
Ne. Prekomerna ishrana na bazi životinja i naravno, nezdrave brze hrane, je problem, zajedno sa našom neznatnom ishranom na bazi biljaka. E sada, nemamo vremena da ulazimo u dobrobiti jedenja biljaka, ali dokaz je da biljke - želim da budem jasan - ne radi se o biljnim sastojcima već o biljkama. Ne radi se o beta karotenu, već o šargarepi. Postoji jasan dokaz da biljke poboljšavaju zdravlje. Taj dokaz je u ovom trenutku ogroman. Ako jedete više biljaka, jedete manje ostalih stvari, živite duže. Nije loše. Ali, vratimo se na životinje i nezdravu brzu hranu. Šta imaju zajedničko? Pod jedan: nijedan nam nije potreban iz zdravstvenih razloga. Ne trebaju nam životinjski proizvodi, a posebno nam ne trebaju beli hleb ili "Koka Kola". Pod dva: oba se preterano mnogo reklamiraju, doprinoseći na taj način stvaranju neprirodne potražnje. Nismo rođeni sa žudnjom za hamburgerima i gumenim bombonama. Pod tri: njihovu proizvodnju podržavaju vladine organizacije na račun zdravlja i ekološke hrane.
Now, let's imagine a parallel. Let's pretend that our government supported an oil-based economy, while discouraging more sustainable forms of energy, knowing all the while that the result would be pollution, war and rising costs. Incredible, isn't it? Yet they do that. And they do this here. It's the same deal. The sad thing is, when it comes to diet, is that even when well-intentioned Feds try to do right by us, they fail. Either they're outvoted by puppets of agribusiness, or they are puppets of agribusiness. So, when the USDA finally acknowledged that it was plants, rather than animals, that made people healthy, they encouraged us, via their overly simplistic food pyramid, to eat five servings of fruits and vegetables a day, along with more carbs. What they didn't tell us is that some carbs are better than others, and that plants and whole grains should be supplanting eating junk food. But industry lobbyists would never let that happen. And guess what? Half the people who developed the food pyramid have ties to agribusiness. So, instead of substituting plants for animals, our swollen appetites simply became larger, and the most dangerous aspects of them remained unchanged. So-called low-fat diets, so-called low-carb diets -- these are not solutions.
Zamislimo sada paralelu. Pretvarajmo se da naša vlada podržava ekonomiju baziranu na nafti dok istovremeno obeshrabruje samoodržavajuće oblike energija, sve vreme znajući da će rezultat biti zagađenje, rat i rastući troškovi. Neverovatno, zar ne? Da, oni to rade. To rade i ovde. Ista je stvar. Tužno je, da kada se radi o ishrani, čak i kada dobronamerni vladini činovnici pokušavaju da urade nešto dobro, ne uspevaju. Ili su nadglasani pionima agro-biznisa, ili su sami pioni agro-biznisa. Tako da kada je američko ministarstvo poljoprivrede konačno priznalo da su biljke, a ne životinje ono što ljude čini zdravima, podstaklo nas je, putem svoje pojednostavljenje piramide ishrane, da jedemo voće i povrće pet puta dnevno, zajedno sa više ugljenih hidrata. Ono što nam nisu rekli je da su neki ugljeni hidrati bolji od drugih, i da bi biljke i neprerađene žitarice trebalo da nadomeste jedenje nezdrave brze hrane. Ali industrijski lobi to nikada ne bi dozvolio. I pogodite šta? Polovina ljudi koja je radila na pravljenju piramide ishrane ima veze sa agro-biznisom. Tako da umesto da zamene životinje biljkama, nasi progutani apetiti jednostavno postaju veći, a njihov najopasniji vid je ostao nepromenjen. Takozvane dijete sa malo masti, takozvane dijete sa malo ugljenih hidrata - nisu rešenja.
But with lots of intelligent people focusing on whether food is organic or local, or whether we're being nice to animals, the most important issues just aren't being addressed. Now, don't get me wrong. I like animals, and I don't think it's just fine to industrialize their production and to churn them out like they were wrenches. But there's no way to treat animals well, when you're killing 10 billion of them a year. That's our number. 10 billion. If you strung all of them -- chickens, cows, pigs and lambs -- to the moon, they'd go there and back five times, there and back. Now, my math's a little shaky, but this is pretty good, and it depends whether a pig is four feet long or five feet long, but you get the idea. That's just the United States. And with our hyper-consumption of those animals producing greenhouse gases and heart disease, kindness might just be a bit of a red herring. Let's get the numbers of the animals we're killing for eating down, and then we'll worry about being nice to the ones that are left.
Ali i sa mnogo inteligentnih ljudi koji vode računa o tome da li je hrana organska ili lokalna, i o tome da li smo dobri prema životinjama, najvažnija pitanja nisu potegnuta. Nemojte me pogrešno shvatiti. Ja volim životinje i ne mislim da je u redu da ih proizvodimo industrijski i da ih štancujemo kao ključeve. Ali ne postoji način na koji životinje možete humano tretirati kada ih ubijate na desetine milijardi godišnje. To je naš broj. 10 milijardi. Kada biste ih sve poređali u liniju - piliće, krave, svinje i jagnjad - do meseca, stigli bi do tamo i nazad pet puta - tamo i nazad. E sad, moja matematika nije sjajna, ali to je dosta, i zavisi da li je svinja dugačka 1.2 ili 1.5 metara, ali razumete već šta hoću da kažem. To je samo SAD. I sa našom hiper-konzumacijom tih životinja koja ispušta gasove sa efektom staklene bašte i prouzrokuje srčana oboljenja, ljubaznost može samo da bude zabluda. Hajde da stavimo na papir broj životinja koje ubijamo radi ishrane i onda ćemo da brinemo o tome da budemo dobri prema onima koje su preostale.
Another red herring might be exemplified by the word "locavore," which was just named word of the year by the New Oxford American Dictionary. Seriously. And locavore, for those of you who don't know, is someone who eats only locally grown food -- which is fine if you live in California, but for the rest of us it's a bit of a sad joke. Between the official story -- the food pyramid -- and the hip locavore vision, you have two versions of how to improve our eating. (Laughter).
Druga zabluda može biti objašnjena rečju "lokavor", koju je Novi oksfordski američki rečnik upravo proglasio Rečju Godine. Ozbiljno. A lokavor, za one od vas koji ne znaju, je neko ko jede samo hranu koja je uzgajena lokalno. Što je u redu ako živite u Kaliforniji, ali za nas ostale, to je pomalo tužna šala. Između zvanične priče - piramida ishrane - i moderne vizije lokavora, imate dve verzije o tome kako da poboljšate svoju ishranu. (Smeh).
They both get it wrong, though. The first at least is populist, and the second is elitist. How we got to this place is the history of food in the United States. And I'm going to go through that, at least the last hundred years or so, very quickly right now. A hundred years ago, guess what? Everyone was a locavore: even New York had pig farms nearby, and shipping food all over the place was a ridiculous notion. Every family had a cook, usually a mom. And those moms bought and prepared food. It was like your romantic vision of Europe. Margarine didn't exist. In fact, when margarine was invented, several states passed laws declaring that it had to be dyed pink, so we'd all know that it was a fake. There was no snack food, and until the '20s, until Clarence Birdseye came along, there was no frozen food. There were no restaurant chains. There were neighborhood restaurants run by local people, but none of them would think to open another one. Eating ethnic was unheard of unless you were ethnic. And fancy food was entirely French. As an aside, those of you who remember Dan Aykroyd in the 1970s doing Julia Child imitations can see where he got the idea of stabbing himself from this fabulous slide. (Laughter)
Ipak, nijedna nije u pravu. Prva je ako ništa drugo narodska, a druga je elitistička. Kako smo dovde došli je istorija ishrane u SAD. I proći ću kroz nju, barem kroz poslednjih sto godina, veoma brzo. Pogodite šta je bilo pre sto godina? Svi su bili lokavori, čak je i Njujork imao farme svinja u okolini, a transport hrane unaokolo je bio smešan pojam. Svaka porodica je imala kuvara, obično je to bila mama. I te mame su kupovale i pripremale hranu. Bilo je to nešto kao naša romantična vizija Evrope. Margarin nije postojao. U stvari, kada je margarin izmišljen, nekoliko država u SAD su donele zakon da mora biti obojen u roze da bismo svi znali da je veštački proizvod. Nije bilo grickalica, a do dvadesetih, dok se nije pojavio "Klarens Brdsaj", nije bilo ni smrznute hrane. Nije bilo lanaca restorana. Bilo je restorana u naseljima koje su vodili lokalni ljudi, ali niko od njih nije ni pomišljao da otvori još jedan. Nacionalne kuhinje su bile neznanica osim ako ste sami bili nekog etničkog porekla. A pomodarska hrana je bila francuska. Usput, samo da dodam, oni od vas koji se sećaju Dena Akrojda kako sedamdesetih imitira Džuliju Čajld mogu na ovom slajdu da vide gde je dobio ideju da sam sebe izbode. (Smeh)
Back in those days, before even Julia, back in those days, there was no philosophy of food. You just ate. You didn't claim to be anything. There was no marketing. There were no national brands. Vitamins had not been invented. There were no health claims, at least not federally sanctioned ones. Fats, carbs, proteins -- they weren't bad or good, they were food. You ate food. Hardly anything contained more than one ingredient, because it was an ingredient. The cornflake hadn't been invented. (Laughter) The Pop-Tart, the Pringle, Cheez Whiz, none of that stuff. Goldfish swam. (Laughter) It's hard to imagine. People grew food, and they ate food. And again, everyone ate local. In New York, an orange was a common Christmas present, because it came all the way from Florida. From the '30s on, road systems expanded, trucks took the place of railroads, fresh food began to travel more. Oranges became common in New York. The South and West became agricultural hubs, and in other parts of the country, suburbs took over farmland. The effects of this are well known. They are everywhere. And the death of family farms is part of this puzzle, as is almost everything from the demise of the real community to the challenge of finding a good tomato, even in summer. Eventually, California produced too much food to ship fresh, so it became critical to market canned and frozen foods. Thus arrived convenience. It was sold to proto-feminist housewives as a way to cut down on housework.
U ondašnje vreme, čak i pre Džulije, u ondašnje vreme nije bilo filozofije o hrani. Samo ste jeli. Niste tvrdili da ste išta. Nije bilo marketinga. Nije bilo domaćih marki. Vitamini nisu bili pronađeni. Nije bilo zdravstvenih problema, barem ne onih koje je vlada kažnjavala. Masti, ugljeni hidrati, proteini - nisu bili loši ili dobri, bili su samo hrana. Jeli ste hranu. Skoro ništa nije sadržalo više od jednog sastojka, jer je to bio samo sastojak. Kornfleks nije bio izmišljen. (Smeh) "Smoki", perece, čips, ništa od tih stvari nije postojalo. "Životinjsko carstvo" je bilo divlje. (Smeh) Teško je zamisliti. Ljudi su gajili i jeli hranu. I naravno, svi su jeli lokalno. Narandža je u Njujorku bila uobičajen božićni poklon zato što je dolazila čak iz Floride. Od 1930-ih pa nadalje putevi su se proširili, kamioni su zamenili železnicu, i sveža hrana je počela sve više da putuje. Narandže su postale uobičajene u Njujorku. Jug i zapad su postali središta agrikulture, a u ostalim delovima zemlje, poljoporivredna zemljišta su zamenjena predgrađima. Posledice ovoga su dobro poznate, ima ih svuda. A smrt porodičnih farmi je deo ove slagalice, kao što je i sve ostalo, od propasti pravih društvenih zajednica (sela) do težine pronalaženja dobrog pradajaza, čak i tokom leta. Sa vremenom, Kalifornija je proizvodila suviše sveže hrane za transport, tako da je postalo neophodno izbaciti na tržište konzerviranu i zamrznutu hranu. Tako je nastala lagodnost. Ona je prodavana je pre-feminističkim domaćicama nudeći im mogućnost da smanje količinu kućnih poslova.
Now, I know everybody over the age of, like 45 -- their mouths are watering at this point. (Laughter) (Applause) If we had a slide of Salisbury steak, even more so, right? (Laughter) But this may have cut down on housework, but it cut down on the variety of food we ate as well. Many of us grew up never eating a fresh vegetable except the occasional raw carrot or maybe an odd lettuce salad. I, for one -- and I'm not kidding -- didn't eat real spinach or broccoli till I was 19. Who needed it though? Meat was everywhere. What could be easier, more filling or healthier for your family than broiling a steak? But by then cattle were already raised unnaturally. Rather than spending their lives eating grass, for which their stomachs were designed, they were forced to eat soy and corn. They have trouble digesting those grains, of course, but that wasn't a problem for producers. New drugs kept them healthy. Well, they kept them alive. Healthy was another story.
E sad, znam da svima koji imaju preko 45 godina curi voda iz usta u ovom trenutku. (Smeh) (Aplauz) A da imamo slajd sa šniclom, još bi nam više curila, zar ne? (Smeh) Međutim, to nam je možda smanjilo kućne poslove, ali je isto tako smanjilo i raznovrsnost hrane koju smo jeli. Mnogi od nas su odrasli, a da nikada nisu pojeli sveže povrće osim povremene sveže šargarepe ili možda čudne zelene salate. Ja, na prvom mestu - i ne šalim se - nisam jeo pravi spanać ili brokoli dok nisam napunio 19 godina. A i kome je trebao? Mesa je bilo svuda. Šta bi drugo bilo jednostavnije, ukusnije ili zdravije za vašu porodicu od pečene šnicle? Ali, stoka je tada već bila uzgajana na neprirodan način. Umesto što je provodila život pasući travu, za koju je njen stomak i predodređen, stoka je bila primoravana da jede soju i kukuruz. Stoka, naravno ima problema kada vari ove žitarice, ali to za prozivođače nije bio problem. Novi lekovi su stoku održavali zdravom. U stvari, održavali su je živom. Zdravlje je bila već druga priča.
Thanks to farm subsidies, the fine collaboration between agribusiness and Congress, soy, corn and cattle became king. And chicken soon joined them on the throne. It was during this period that the cycle of dietary and planetary destruction began, the thing we're only realizing just now. Listen to this, between 1950 and 2000, the world's population doubled. Meat consumption increased five-fold. Now, someone had to eat all that stuff, so we got fast food. And this took care of the situation resoundingly. Home cooking remained the norm, but its quality was down the tubes. There were fewer meals with home-cooked breads, desserts and soups, because all of them could be bought at any store. Not that they were any good, but they were there. Most moms cooked like mine: a piece of broiled meat, a quickly made salad with bottled dressing, canned soup, canned fruit salad. Maybe baked or mashed potatoes, or perhaps the stupidest food ever, Minute Rice. For dessert, store-bought ice cream or cookies. My mom is not here, so I can say this now. This kind of cooking drove me to learn how to cook for myself. (Laughter)
Zahvaljujući subvencijama za agrikulturu, kao i saradnji između agro-biznisa i Parlamenta, soja, kukuruz i stoka su postali kralj. A uskoro im se na tronu pridružila i živina. U toku ovog perioda je počeo ciklus dijetetskog i planetarnog uništavanja. stvar koju tek sada počinjemo da spoznajemo. Slušajte ovo: između 1950. i 2000. svetska populacija se udvostručila. Konzumacija mesa se upetostručila. Neko je morao sve to da pojede i tako smo dobili brzu hranu. I ona se pobrinula za situaciju. Domaća kuhinja je ostala norma, ali je njen kvalitet znatno oslabio. Bilo je manje jela sa domaćim hlebom, poslasticama i supama, zato što ste sve njih mogli da kupite u bilo kojoj prodavnici. Nije da su bili dobri, ali bilo ih je. Većina mama je kuvala kao moja - komad pečenog mesa, brza salata sa kupovnim prelivom, supa iz konzerve, voćna salata iz konzerve. Možda i pečeni ili pire krompir ili možda najgluplja hrana ikada - "pirinač za minut". Za dezert, kupovni sladoled ili kolači. Mama mi nije tu, tako da ovo mogu da kažem. Ova vrsta kuvanja me je navela da naučim da kuvam sam za sebe. (Smeh)
It wasn't all bad. By the '70s, forward-thinking people began to recognize the value of local ingredients. We tended gardens, we became interested in organic food, we knew or we were vegetarians. We weren't all hippies, either. Some of us were eating in good restaurants and learning how to cook well. Meanwhile, food production had become industrial. Industrial. Perhaps because it was being produced rationally, as if it were plastic, food gained magical or poisonous powers, or both. Many people became fat-phobic. Others worshiped broccoli, as if it were God-like. But mostly they didn't eat broccoli. Instead they were sold on yogurt, yogurt being almost as good as broccoli. Except, in reality, the way the industry sold yogurt was to convert it to something much more akin to ice cream. Similarly, let's look at a granola bar. You think that that might be healthy food, but in fact, if you look at the ingredient list, it's closer in form to a Snickers than it is to oatmeal. Sadly, it was at this time that the family dinner was put in a coma, if not actually killed -- the beginning of the heyday of value-added food, which contained as many soy and corn products as could be crammed into it.
Uopšte nije bilo loše. Do početka sedamdesetih ljudi naprednog razmišljanja su počeli da shvataju vrednost lokalnih sastojaka. Negovali smo bašte i postali smo zainteresovani za organsku hranu, znali smo ili smo bili vegetarijanci. Nismo ni svi bili hipici. Neki od nas su jeli u dobrim restoranima i učili kako da dobro kuvaju. U međuvremenu, proizvodnja hrane je postala industrijska. Industrijska. Možda zato što je proizvođena razumno, kao da je plastika, hrana je dobila magične ili otrovne moći ili obe. Mnogi ljudi su dobili fobiju na masnoće. Drugi su obožavali brokoli kao da je Bog. Ali u većini slučajeva oni nisu jeli brokoli. Umesto toga, jeli su jogurt, jogurt koji je skoro dobar koliko i brokoli. Osim što je u stvarnosti način na koji je industrija prodavala jogurt bio da ga pretvori u nešto mnogo sličnije sladoledu. Na sličan način, pogledajmo "Bonžitu". Mislite da je to možda zdrava hrana, ali ako zapravo pogledate listu sastojaka videćete da je bliža "Snikers" čokoladi nego žitaricama. Na žalost, u to vreme je porodična večera pala u komu, ako nije zapravo bila ubijena. Bio je to početak vrhunca obogaćene hrane koja je sadrzala onoliko soje i kukuruznih prozivoda koliko ih je u nju moglo da stane.
Think of the frozen chicken nugget. The chicken is fed corn, and then its meat is ground up, and mixed with more corn products to add bulk and binder, and then it's fried in corn oil. All you do is nuke it. What could be better? And zapped horribly, pathetically. By the '70s, home cooking was in such a sad state that the high fat and spice contents of foods like McNuggets and Hot Pockets -- and we all have our favorites, actually -- made this stuff more appealing than the bland things that people were serving at home. At the same time, masses of women were entering the workforce, and cooking simply wasn't important enough for men to share the burden. So now, you've got your pizza nights, you've got your microwave nights, you've got your grazing nights, you've got your fend-for-yourself nights and so on.
Pomislite na zamrznute pohovane pilece komade. Pile jede kukuruz, a onda je njegovo meso samleveno i pomesano sa jos vise kukuruznih prozivoda da bi se povezalo i dobilo na masi, a onda se przi u kukuruznom ulju. Vi ga samo podgrejete. Ima li neceg boljeg? A u stvari je meso patetično i gnusno uništeno. Do početka sedamdesetih, kuvanje je bilo u tako tužnom stanju da je visok sadržaj masti i začina u hrani kao što je "McNuggets" ili mini zaleđeni sendviči - a svi mi zapravo imamo omiljene - učinio ove stvari privlačnijim od onih bezukusnih koje su ljudi jeli kod kuće. Istovremeno, mase žena su postajale radna snaga, i kuvanje više jednistavno nije bilo dovoljno važno muškarcima da bi učestvovali u njemu. Sada imate pica večeri i mikrotalasne večeri, imate večeri kada jedete ostatke od prethodnih večera, imate "snađi se sam" večeri i tako dalje.
Leading the way -- what's leading the way? Meat, junk food, cheese: the very stuff that will kill you. So, now we clamor for organic food. That's good. And as evidence that things can actually change, you can now find organic food in supermarkets, and even in fast-food outlets. But organic food isn't the answer either, at least not the way it's currently defined. Let me pose you a question. Can farm-raised salmon be organic, when its feed has nothing to do with its natural diet, even if the feed itself is supposedly organic, and the fish themselves are packed tightly in pens, swimming in their own filth? And if that salmon's from Chile, and it's killed down there and then flown 5,000 miles, whatever, dumping how much carbon into the atmosphere? I don't know. Packed in Styrofoam, of course, before landing somewhere in the United States, and then being trucked a few hundred more miles. This may be organic in letter, but it's surely not organic in spirit. Now here is where we all meet. The locavores, the organivores, the vegetarians, the vegans, the gourmets and those of us who are just plain interested in good food. Even though we've come to this from different points, we all have to act on our knowledge to change the way that everyone thinks about food.
A na čelu je - šta je na čelu? Meso, brza nezdrava hrana, sir. Sve one stvari koje će vas ubiti. A sada zahtevamo organsku hranu. To je dobro. I kao dokaz da se stvari zapravo mogu promeniti sada možete naći organsku hranu u svim supermarketima i čak i u restoranima brze hrane. Ali ni organska hrana nije odgovor, barem ne na način na koji je trenutno opisana. Dozvolite da vam postavim pitanje. Da li losos iz ribnjaka može biti organski, ako njegova hrana nema nikakve veze sa njegovom prirodnom dijetom, čak i ako je ta hrana, pretpostavimo, organska; a ribe su u ribnjaku gusto zbijene, plivajući u sopstvenoj prljavštini? I ako je losos iz Čilea i tamo je ubijen a onda je leteo 8,000 km ili koliko već, pritom doprinoseći koliko ugljenika u atmosferu? Ne znam. Zapakovan u stiropor, naravno, pre nego što sleti negde u SAD, a onda je prevezen kamionom još nekoliko stotina kilometara. Ovo je možda organsko na papiru, ali sigurno nije organsko u duhu. E sada, evo gde se svi sastajemo. Lokavori, organivori, vegetarijanci, vegani, sladokusci i oni koji smo samo jednstavno zainteresovani za dobru hranu. Iako smo dovde došli iz različitih tački, svi moramo da nešto preduzmeno da bismo promenili način na koji svi razmišljaju o hrani.
We need to start acting. And this is not only an issue of social justice, as Ann Cooper said -- and, of course, she's completely right -- but it's also one of global survival. Which bring me full circle and points directly to the core issue, the overproduction and overconsumption of meat and junk food. As I said, 18 percent of greenhouse gases are attributed to livestock production. How much livestock do you need to produce this? 70 percent of the agricultural land on Earth, 30 percent of the Earth's land surface is directly or indirectly devoted to raising the animals we'll eat. And this amount is predicted to double in the next 40 years or so.
Moramo da uradimo nešto. A ovo nije samo stvar društvene pravde, kao što je En Kuper rekla - i naravno, u potpunosti je u pravu - već je takođe i stvar globalnog preživljavanja. To me navodi da zatvorim krug i direktno ukažem na stvari koje su u samoj srži, prekomerna prozivodnja i prekomerna potrošnja mesa i nezdrave brze hrane. Kao što sam rekao, 18% gasova sa efektom staklene bašte dolazi od uzgajanja stoke. Koliko je stoke potrebno za ovu količinu gasova? 70% zemljišta za agrikulturu. 30% zemljine kopnene površine je direktno ili indirektno posvećeno uzgoju životinja koje ćemo jesti. Predviđeno je da će se ova količina udvostručiti u narednih 40-ak godina.
And if the numbers coming in from China are anything like what they look like now, it's not going to be 40 years. There is no good reason for eating as much meat as we do. And I say this as a man who has eaten a fair share of corned beef in his life. The most common argument is that we need nutrients -- even though we eat, on average, twice as much protein as even the industry-obsessed USDA recommends. But listen: experts who are serious about disease reduction recommend that adults eat just over half a pound of meat per week.
A ako su brojevi iz Kine imalo slični onome kako danas izgledaju, onda ne govorimo o 40 godina. Nema opravdanja za količinu mesa koju jedemo. I to kažem kao čovek koji je pojeo popriličnu količinu govedine tokom svog života. Najčešći argument je da nam trebaju hranljivi sastojci - iako, u proseku jedemo duplo više proteina nego što čak i industrijom-opsednuto američko ministarstvo poljoprivrede preporučuje. Ali slušajte - stručnjaci koji ozbiljno shvataju smanjenje oboljenja preporučuju odraslima da jedu samo nešto više od 225g mesa nedeljno.
What do you think we eat per day? Half a pound. But don't we need meat to be big and strong? Isn't meat eating essential to health? Won't a diet heavy in fruit and vegetables turn us into godless, sissy, liberals? (Laughter) Some of us might think that would be a good thing. But, no, even if we were all steroid-filled football players, the answer is no. In fact, there's no diet on Earth that meets basic nutritional needs that won't promote growth, and many will make you much healthier than ours does. We don't eat animal products for sufficient nutrition, we eat them to have an odd form of malnutrition, and it's killing us. To suggest that in the interests of personal and human health Americans eat 50 percent less meat -- it's not enough of a cut, but it's a start.
Koliko mislite da mi jedemo dnevno? 225 grama. Ali zar nam meso nije neophodno da bismo bili veliki i snažni? Zar jedenje mesa nije od suštinske važnosti za zdravlje? Zar nas dijeta puna voća i povrća neće pretvoriti u bezbožne, šonjave liberale? (Smeh) Neki od nas možda misle da bi to bila dobra stvar. Ali ne, čak i da smo steroidima napunjeni fudbaleri, odgovor je ne. U stvari, ne postoji nijedna dijeta na svetu koja neće, ispunjavajući osnovne hranljive potrebe, promovisati rast, a mnoge će vas učiniti mnogo zdravijim nego što vas čini naša dijeta. Mi ne jedemo životinjske proizvode radi dovoljnih hranljivih stastojaka, vec ih jedemo da bismo imali cudnan oblik lose ishrane, i to nas ubija. Ako kazemo da radi licnih interesa, ako i interesa ljudskog zdravlja Amerikanci treba da jedu 50% manje mesa - nije dovoljno smanjenje, ali je neki pocetak.
It would seem absurd, but that's exactly what should happen, and what progressive people, forward-thinking people should be doing and advocating, along with the corresponding increase in the consumption of plants. I've been writing about food more or less omnivorously -- one might say indiscriminately -- for about 30 years. During that time, I've eaten and recommended eating just about everything. I'll never stop eating animals, I'm sure, but I do think that for the benefit of everyone, the time has come to stop raising them industrially and stop eating them thoughtlessly.
Izgledalo bi apsurdno, ali to je upravo ono što bi trebalo da se desi, i ono što bi progresivni ljudi, ljudi naprednog razmišljanja trebalo da rade i podrzavaju, uporedo sa odgovrajucim povecanjem konzumacije biljaka. Pišem o hrani manje više kao neko ko sve jede - neko će reci neselektivno - već skoro 30 godina. Tokom tog vremena pojeo sam i preporučio da se pojede, skoro sve. Nikada neću prestati da jedem životinje, siguran sam ali mislim da je za dobrobit svih došlo vreme da prestanemo da životinje uzgajamo industrijskim putem i da prestanemo da ih jedemo nepromišljeno.
Ann Cooper's right. The USDA is not our ally here. We have to take matters into our own hands, not only by advocating for a better diet for everyone -- and that's the hard part -- but by improving our own. And that happens to be quite easy. Less meat, less junk, more plants. It's a simple formula: eat food. Eat real food. We can continue to enjoy our food, and we continue to eat well, and we can eat even better. We can continue the search for the ingredients we love, and we can continue to spin yarns about our favorite meals. We'll reduce not only calories, but our carbon footprint. We can make food more important, not less, and save ourselves by doing so. We have to choose that path. Thank you.
En Kuper je u pravu. Amerikko ministarstvo poljoprivrede nije naš saveznik u ovome. Moramo da uzmemo stvari u sopstvene ruke, ne samo tako što ćemo se zalagati za bolju ishranu za sve - a to je teži deo - već i tako što ćemo poboljšati sopstvenu ishranu. I to postaje prilično lako. Manje mesa, manje nezdrave brze hrane, više biljaka. Jednostavna formula - jedite hranu. Jedite pravu hranu. Možemo da nastavimo da uživamo u našoj hrani i da nastavimo da dobro jedemo, a možemo da jedemo još bolje. Možemo da nastavimo potragu za sastojcima koje volimo i možemo da nastavimo da razglabamo o našim omiljenim jelima. Smanjićemo ne samo naše kalorije, već i naš karbonski otisak. Možemo učiniti hranu važnijom, a ne nevažnom, i na taj način sebe spasiti. Moramo izabrati taj put. Hvala vam.