CART

(0) items

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle : A Year of Food Life,9780060852566

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle : A Year of Food Life

by
Edition:
Reprint
ISBN13:

9780060852566

ISBN10:
0060852569
Format:
Paperback
Pub. Date:
4/14/2010
Publisher(s):
HarperCollins Publications
List Price: $15.99

Rent Book

(Recommended)
 
Term
Due
Price
$5.00

Buy Used Book

In Stock Usually Ships in 24 Hours.
U9780060852566
$1.52

Buy New Book

In Stock Usually Ships in 24 Hours.
N9780060852566
$12.79

eBook

We're Sorry
Not Available

More New and Used
from Private Sellers
Starting at $0.01
See Prices

Questions About This Book?

Why should I rent this book?
Renting is easy, fast, and cheap! Renting from eCampus.com can save you hundreds of dollars compared to the cost of new or used books each semester. At the end of the semester, simply ship the book back to us with a free UPS shipping label! No need to worry about selling it back.
How do rental returns work?
Returning books is as easy as possible. As your rental due date approaches, we will email you several courtesy reminders. When you are ready to return, you can print a free UPS shipping label from our website at any time. Then, just return the book to your UPS driver or any staffed UPS location. You can even use the same box we shipped it in!
What version or edition is this?
This is the Reprint edition with a publication date of 4/14/2010.
What is included with this book?
  • The New copy of this book will include any supplemental materials advertised. Please check the title of the book to determine if it should include any CDs, lab manuals, study guides, etc.
  • The Used copy of this book is not guaranteed to include any supplemental materials. Typically, only the book itself is included.
  • The Rental copy of this book is not guaranteed to include any supplemental materials. You may receive a brand new copy, but typically, only the book itself.

Customer Reviews

A fabulous textbook!  July 1, 2011
by


I think "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" was a great introduction to living and eating in sync with nature and it gives you a basic idea of what it takes to live off the land. Barbara is helped in her tale telling by her husband and teenage daughter. The trio of them provides amazingly useful information, background data, recipes and more. I love Barbara Kingsolver's writing, and this is right up there with High Tide in Tucson and Small Wonder. For anyone who is concerned about our food supply and our place in the food chain. And anyone who should be. I received this cheap textbook within days. Seller was excellent, I give my highest recommendation.






Animal, Vegetable, Miracle : A Year of Food Life: 5 out of 5 stars based on 1 user reviews.

Summary

Author Barbara Kingsolver and her family abandoned the industrial-food pipeline to live a rural life—vowing that, for one year, they’d only buy food raised in their own neighborhood, grow it themselves, or learn to live without it. Part memoir, part journalistic investigation, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle is an enthralling narrative that will open your eyes in a hundred new ways to an old truth: You are what you eat..

“Charming . . . Literary magic . . . If you love the narrative voice of Barbara Kingsolver, you will be thrilled.” -Houston Chronicle

“Highly digestible…Engaging.” -Ellen Goodman, Boston Globe

“Charming...and persuasive...Each season-and chapter-unfolds with a natural rhythm and mouth-watering appeal.” -Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

“Charming, zestful, funny and poetic…a serious book about important problems.” -Washington Post Book World

Author Biography

Barbara Kingsolver's twelve books of fiction, poetry, and creative nonfiction include the novels The Bean Trees and The Poisonwood Bible. Translated into nineteen languages, her work has won a devoted worldwide readership and many awards, including the National Humanities Medal. Steven L. Hopp teaches environmental studies at Emory and Henry College and conducts research in bioacoustics and the natural history of vireos. Camille Kingsolver attends Duke University, where she studies biology, anatomy, and dance, and teaches yoga.

Table of Contents

Called Homep. 1
Waiting for Asparagus: Late Marchp. 23
Springing Forwardp. 43
Stalking the Vegetannualp. 63
Molly Mooching: Aprilp. 70
The Birds and the Beesp. 86
Gratitude: Mayp. 100
Growing Trust: Mid-Junep. 111
Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast: Late Junep. 124
Eating Neighborly: Late Junep. 148
Slow Food Nations: Late Junep. 154
Zucchini Larceny: Julyp. 173
Life in a Red State: Augustp. 196
You Can't Run Away on Harvest Day: Septemberp. 219
Where Fish Wear Crowns: Septemberp. 242
Smashing Pumpkins: Octoberp. 259
Celebration Days: November-Decemberp. 277
What Do You Eat in January?p. 296
Hungry Month: February-Marchp. 315
Time Beginsp. 334
Acknowledgmentsp. 353
Referencesp. 355
Organizationsp. 358
Sidebar Resourcesp. 364
Table of Contents provided by Ingram. All Rights Reserved.

Excerpts

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle
A Year of Food Life

Chapter One

Called Home

This story about good food begins in a quick-stop convenience market. It was our family's last day in Arizona, where I'd lived half my life and raised two kids for the whole of theirs. Now we were moving away forever, taking our nostalgic inventory of the things we would never see again: the bush where the roadrunner built a nest and fed lizards to her weird-looking babies; the tree Camille crashed into learning to ride a bike; the exact spot where Lily touched a dead snake. Our driveway was just the first tributary on a memory river sweeping us out.

One person's picture postcard is someone else's normal. This was the landscape whose every face we knew: giant saguaro cacti, coyotes, mountains, the wicked sun reflecting off bare gravel. We were leaving it now in one of its uglier moments, which made good-bye easier, but also seemed like a cheap shot—like ending a romance right when your partner has really bad bed hair. The desert that day looked like a nasty case of prickly heat caught in a long, naked wince.

This was the end of May. Our rainfall since Thanksgiving had measured less than one inch. The cacti, denizens of deprivation, looked ready to pull up roots and hitch a ride out if they could. The prickly pears waved good-bye with puckered, grayish pads. The tall, dehydrated saguaros stood around all teetery and sucked-in like very prickly supermodels. Even in the best of times desert creatures live on the edge of survival, getting by mostly on vapor and their own life savings. Now, as the southern tier of U.S. states came into a third consecutive year of drought, people elsewhere debated how seriously they should take global warming. We were staring it in the face.

Away went our little family, like rats leaping off the burning ship. It hurt to think about everything at once: our friends, our desert, old home, new home. We felt giddy and tragic as we pulled up at a little gas-and-go market on the outside edge of Tucson. Before we set off to seek our fortunes we had to gas up, of course, and buy snacks for the road. We did have a cooler in the back seat packed with respectable lunch fare. But we had more than two thousand miles to go. Before we crossed a few state lines we'd need to give our car a salt treatment and indulge in some things that go crunch.

This was the trip of our lives. We were ending our existence outside the city limits of Tucson, Arizona, to begin a rural one in southern Appalachia. We'd sold our house and stuffed the car with the most crucial things: birth certificates, books-on-tape, and a dog on drugs. (Just for the trip, I swear.) All other stuff would come in the moving van. For better or worse, we would soon be living on a farm.

For twenty years Steven had owned a piece of land in the southern Appalachians with a farmhouse, barn, orchards and fields, and a tax zoning known as “farm use.” He was living there when I met him, teaching college and fixing up his old house one salvaged window at a time. I'd come as a visiting writer, recently divorced, with something of a fixer-upper life. We proceeded to wreck our agendas in the predictable fashion by falling in love. My young daughter and I were attached to our community in Tucson; Steven was just as attached to his own green pastures and the birdsong chorus of deciduous eastern woodlands. My father-in-law to be, upon hearing the exciting news about us, asked Steven, “Couldn't you find one closer?”

Apparently not. We held on to the farm by renting the farmhouse to another family, and maintained marital happiness by migrating like birds: for the school year we lived in Tucson, but every summer headed back to our rich foraging grounds, the farm. For three months a year we lived in a tiny, extremely crooked log cabin in the woods behind the farmhouse, listening to wood thrushes, growing our own food. The girls (for another child came along shortly) loved playing in the creek, catching turtles, experiencing real mud. I liked working the land, and increasingly came to think of this place as my home too. When all of us were ready, we decided, we'd go there for keeps.

We had many conventional reasons for relocation, including extended family. My Kingsolver ancestors came from that county in Virginia; I'd grown up only a few hours away, over the Kentucky line. Returning now would allow my kids more than just a hit-and-run, holiday acquaintance with grandparents and cousins. In my adult life I'd hardly shared a phone book with anyone else using my last name. Now I could spend Memorial Day decorating my ancestors' graves with peonies from my backyard. Tucson had opened my eyes to the world and given me a writing career, legions of friends, and a taste for the sensory extravagance of red hot chiles and five-alarm sunsets. But after twenty-five years in the desert, I'd been called home.

There is another reason the move felt right to us, and it's the purview of this book. We wanted to live in a place that could feed us: where rain falls, crops grow, and drinking water bubbles right up out of the ground. This might seem an abstract reason for leaving beloved friends and one of the most idyllic destination cities in the United States. But it was real to us. As it closes in on the million-souls mark, Tucson's charms have made it one of this country's fastest-growing cities. It keeps its people serviced across the wide, wide spectrum of daily human wants, with its banks, shops, symphonies, colleges, art galleries, city parks, and more golf courses than you can shake a stick at. By all accounts . . .

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle
A Year of Food Life
. Copyright © by Barbara Kingsolver. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.

Excerpted from Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver, Steven L. Hopp, Camille Kingsolver
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.


Please wait while the item is added to your cart...