This study examines the struggle between Smithfield market's supporters and detractors and argues that this demonstrates a major shift in the way the urban landscape came to be used.

This book examines the meat provision system of Rio de Janeiro from the 1850s to the 1930s. Until the 1920s, Rio was Brazil’s economic hub, main industrial city, and prime consumer market. Meat consumption was an indicator of living standards and a matter of public concern. The work unveils that in the second half of the nineteenth century, the city was well supplied with red meat. Initially, dwellers relied mostly on salted meat; then, in the latter decades of the 1800s, two sets of changes upgraded fresh meat deliveries. First, ranching expansion and transportation innovation in southeast and central-west Brazil guaranteed a continuous flow of cattle to Rio. Second, the municipal centralization of meat processing and distribution made its provision regular and predictable. By the early twentieth century, fresh meat replaced salted meat in the urban marketplace. This study examines these developments in light of national and global developments in the livestock and meat industries.

Buying large, unbutchered pieces of meat from a local farm or butcher shop means knowing where and how your food was raised, and getting meat that is more reasonably priced. It means getting what you want, not just what a grocery store puts out for sale—and tailoring your cuts to what you want to cook, not the other way around. For the average cook ready to take on the challenge, The Meat Hook Meat Book is the perfect guide: equal parts cookbook and butchering handbook, it will open readers up to a whole new world—start by cutting up a chicken, and soon you’ll be breaking down an entire pig, creating your own custom burger blends, and throwing a legendary barbecue (hint: it will include The Man Steak—the be-all and end-all of grilling one-upmanship—and a cooler full of ice-cold cheap beer). This first cookbook from meat maven Tom Mylan, co-owner of The Meat Hook, in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, is filled with more than 60 recipes and hundreds of photographs and clever illustrations to make the average cook a butchering enthusiast. With stories that capture the Meat Hook experience, even those who haven’t shopped there will become fans.

Collects more than seventy recipes for meat dishes provided by the author and other celebrated New York City chefs, describing the best butchering techniques that can be done at home and special cooking instructions for creating the perfect burger.

2020-21 Reader Views Literary Award, Gold Medal Winner 2021 Independent Publisher Book Award, Gold Medal Winner 2020 National Jewish Book Award, Finalist 2020 American Book Fest Best Book Awards Finalist in the U.S. History category 2020 Foreword Indies Book of the Year Finalist In the wee hours of May 15, 1902, three thousand Jewish women quietly took up positions on the streets of Manhattan's Lower East Side. Convinced by the latest jump in the price of kosher meat that they were being gouged, they assembled in squads of five, intent on shutting down every kosher butcher shop in New York's Jewish quarter. What was conceived as a nonviolent effort did not remain so for long. Customers who crossed the picket lines were heckled and assaulted and their parcels of meat hurled into the gutters. Butchers who remained open were attacked, their windows smashed, stock ruined, equipment destroyed. Brutal blows from police nightsticks sent women to local hospitals and to court. But soon Jewish housewives throughout the area took to the streets in solidarity, while the butchers either shut their doors or had their doors shut for them. The newspapers called it a modern Jewish Boston Tea Party. The Great Kosher Meat War of 1902 tells the twin stories of mostly uneducated women immigrants who discovered their collective consumer power and of the Beef Trust, the midwestern cartel that conspired to keep meat prices high despite efforts by the U.S. government to curtail its nefarious practices. With few resources and little experience but steely determination, this group of women organized themselves into a potent fighting force and, in their first foray into the political arena in their adopted country, successfully challenged powerful, vested corporate interests and set a pattern for future generations to follow.

A former agribusiness reporter critically assesses the corporate meat industry as demonstrated by the practices of Tyson Foods, documenting the meat supply's takeover by a few powerful companies who are raising prices and outmaneuvering reforms.

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.