"Gewertz and Errington unpack the aspirations and anxieties, calculations and controversies that inhabit an inexpensive cut of fatty meat. Following the trail of sheep bellies from slaughterhouses in Australia and New Zealand to the plates of Pacific Islanders, they evenhandedly map the divergent perspectives of commercial traders, government officials, and ordinary consumers acting within a contested material and moral economy. Cheap Meat provides a startling view of how global food markets fashion the bodies and identities of people everywhere."--Robert J. Foster, author of Coca-Globalization: Following Soft Drinks from New York to New Guinea "Cheap Meat is a compelling example of how ethnography concerned with Oceania can elucidate broader questions in anthropology and the social sciences in general. Gewertz and Errington show the complexity of globalization by focusing on the most unlikely commodity. This work at once demonstrates how unfettered capitalism is able to use global circulation to literally convert one person's trash to another's treasure and how resilient Pacific Islanders refashion Western commodities to their own ends."--Paige West, Curator for the Pacific American Museum of Natural History

Farm animals have been disappearing from our fields as the production of food has become a global industry. We no longer know for certain what is entering the food chain and what we are eating. We are reaching a tipping point as the farming revolution threatens our countryside, health and the quality of our food wherever we live in the world. From the antibiotics routinely given to industrially farmed animals to the chemicals that are killing our insect populations, Farmageddon is a fascinating and terrifying investigative journey behind the closed doors of a runaway industry across the world – from Europe to the USA, from China to Latin America. It is both a wake-up call to change our current food production and eating practices, and an attempt to find a way to a better farming future.

Eat meat, but eat less and eat better – that, if any, is this book’s philosophy. That's not to say we should stint on great hunks of beef, cut paper-thin and served with glistening gravy, charred steaks, or golden deep-fried chicken. Nor should we forgo slow-cooked lamb, roast Chinese duck, Keralan pork curry or rich jambalayas, cassoulets and daubes – you’ll find recipes for all of these here. But read on and things get a little less carnivorous. In the Less Meat chapter, meat shares the limelight with other ingredients, and in Meat as Seasoning, scraps of beef, lamb, pork and chicken are eked out to give depth to a range of dishes. There are 120 recipes in total, ranging from meat feasts such as roast beef through to game stock and everything in between. Let's Eat Meat shows us how to enjoy meat, whether it is a prime cut or a scrap of meat used in a way that is thrifty but never mean. With an eye on welfare, it encourages us to spend money on eating less but better meat. But this is no revolution: here are recipes for dishes rooted in cultures where meat is a luxury, and so delicious you will return to cook them again and again.

Sent on a mission to New York he gets involved in a wild journey that takes him in and out of stolen cars, freight trains, and buses. By the time he returns home to Texas, Norwood has met his true love, Rita Lee, on a bus; befriended the second shortest midget in show business and “the world's smallest perfect fat man†?; and helped Joann “the chicken with a college education,†? realize her true potential in life. As with all Portis’ fiction, the tone is cool, sympathetic, and funny.

"By the late nineteenth century, Americans rich and poor had come to expect high-quality fresh beef with almost every meal. Beef production in the United States had gone from small-scale, localized operations to a highly centralized industry spanning the country, with cattle bred on ranches in the rural West, slaughtered in Chicago, and consumed in the nation's rapidly growing cities. Red Meat Republic tells the remarkable story of the violent conflict over who would reap the benefits of this new industry and who would bear its heavy costs"--

The debut cookbook by the creator of the wildly popular blog Damn Delicious proves that quick and easy doesn't have to mean boring.Blogger Chungah Rhee has attracted millions of devoted fans with recipes that are undeniable 'keepers'-each one so simple, so easy, and so flavor-packed, that you reach for them busy night after busy night. In Damn Delicious, she shares exclusive new recipes as well as her most beloved dishes, all designed to bring fun and excitement into everyday cooking. From five-ingredient Mini Deep Dish Pizzas to no-fuss Sheet Pan Steak & Veggies and 20-minute Spaghetti Carbonara, the recipes will help even the most inexperienced cooks spend less time in the kitchen and more time around the table.Packed with quickie breakfasts, 30-minute skillet sprints, and speedy takeout copycats, this cookbook is guaranteed to inspire readers to whip up fast, healthy, homemade meals that are truly 'damn delicious!'

In 2013, a Dutch scientist unveiled the world’s first laboratory-created hamburger. Since then, the idea of producing meat, not from live animals but from carefully cultured tissues, has spread like wildfire through the media. Meanwhile, cultured meat researchers race against population growth and climate change in an effort to make sustainable protein. Meat Planet explores the quest to generate meat in the lab—a substance sometimes called “cultured meat”—and asks what it means to imagine that this is the future of food. Neither an advocate nor a critic of cultured meat, Benjamin Aldes Wurgaft spent five years researching the phenomenon. In Meat Planet, he reveals how debates about lab-grown meat reach beyond debates about food, examining the links between appetite, growth, and capitalism. Could satiating the growing appetite for meat actually lead to our undoing? Are we simply using one technology to undo the damage caused by another? Like all problems in our food system, the meat problem is not merely a problem of production. It is intrinsically social and political, and it demands that we examine questions of justice and desirable modes of living in a shared and finite world. Benjamin Wurgaft tells a story that could utterly transform the way we think of animals, the way we relate to farmland, the way we use water, and the way we think about population and our fragile ecosystem’s capacity to sustain life. He argues that even if cultured meat does not “succeed,” it functions—much like science fiction—as a crucial mirror that we can hold up to our contemporary fleshy dysfunctions.