With that in mind, Kingsolver resolves for one year to only consume foods which have been either grown/produced by her family, or purchased locally (with a few necessary exceptions like coffee and olive oil). In the midst of her musings, her husband Steve interjects biological facts, economic statistics, and political commentary, and her older daughter Camille provides recipes and a teenager's take on the experiment.

Kingsolver crafts her story brilliantly, weaving humor (turkey sex) and practicality (botulism is not to be trifled with) with steady resolve. She is obviously passionate about local agriculture's battle against corporate giants, and yet she never comes across as bitter or self-righteous. At some points, she seems almost heartsick at the way America's been tricked into consuming so much that's so bad for us.

Towards the end of the book, she writes about a conversation she had with a friend of hers who was producing a film on global cimate change. Her friend wondered how to move people enough to lose their complacency, but not so much that they are immobilized with fear. She didn't have an answer for her friend, but one answer is this book. I have personally already started considering my eating habits, looking at the chicken breasts in my freezer and wondering what kind of atrocities had the chickens suffered in their short lives, and looking at the tofu I thought was such a good alternative and wondering what kind of damage had been done to the environment to make it and get it to me.

Kingsolver ends the book on a note of hope. Local farmer's markets are increasing, many states include vouchers for them in their WIC programs, the "locavore" phenomenon is starting to gain popularity, and many school districts and even prisons are partnering up with local farms. Perhaps there's a chance.

And I, for one, look forward to the day when I, too, might get to watch two heirloom turkeys have sex.