What Do Don Draper and American Food Have In Common?

More than you think. Let's consider Don Draper, the protagonist of AMC's Mad Men. If you don't know Don Draper, or the actor who plays him, Jon Hamm, then you've probably been living under a rock for awhile and I am not sure if your first entry into pop culture should be my blog.

But anyway, you're here,so let's get back to Don. From the outside, Don is perfect. He is creative, wealthy, powerful and handsome. He is witty, wise, charming, strong and confident. Don has the perfect family, a beautiful, attentive wife, two children, a house in the suburbs.

For the mid-century American male, Don is the ideal. He represents American ingenuity, creativity, business and sexual prowess as well as conformity. It may be surprising to most American's living in the post-counter-cultural era, but there was a time, when conformity to social norms was seen as the height of achievement.

And yet beneath this seemingly perfect exterior, Don is a mess. He's rotten to his core. He is, in fact, not even really Don Draper. He cheats on his wife, he's detached, he's repressed, he's so far from his soul that he probably won't recognize it if he ever happens to find it.

For the most part, American food, and especially produce, that is raw fruits and vegetables, are a lot like Don Draper. It has the appearance of perfection, it's often shiny and smooth, smells good, looks good, even feels good in our hands as we heft. But like Don Draper, American produce is rotten to its core. As Nick Kristof said in his Times column today, where has increasingly been discussing the degraded mess that is our industrial food production,

I think I figured out the central problem with modern industrial agriculture. It's not just that it produces unhealthy food, mishandles waste and overuses antibiotics in ways that harm us all. More fundamentally, it has no soul.

Perfection is a particularly dangerous illusion. And our endless striving for food products that exude an illusion of perfection are no exception. Because by elevating perfect looking food, we've downgraded food that may not look as good, but has a soul, has a connection to the earth.

So... I want lettuce that is dirty from the fields. I want leeks that are sandy. I want apples that are crisp, crunchy, fresh and occasionally misshapen. I want my tomatoes of the heirloom variety. I want my eggs fresh, from pastured hens, and I want to buy them with a loose feather on the inside of the box. I want my milk RAW, and I want it to be creamy, smooth, thick and aromatic. I want my beef grass-fed. I want heritage pulled pork. I want pears with an occasional worm in it. I want strawberries that don't look as plump and juicy as the imported ones that Whole Foods tries to sell me, but that TASTE like strawberries. Not a factory concoction of what a strawberry SHOULD taste like. I want bugs and ants in the bottom of my canvas bag when I come home from the farmers market.

In short, I want food with soul. I want food that's connected to the earth, the farm, the farmers who grew or raised it. I want food that doesn't try to be perfect, because it knows that it never can be, and even if it could, wouldn't want to be perfect ANYHOW. That is the food I want. So now... Who is going to give it to me?

Follow Zachary Adam Cohen on Twitter: www.twitter.com/ZacharyCohen

Comments

[elcerritan]

Farmers markets, CSAs, and your own garden (if you have the room). Check it out: http://www.localharvest.org/

[saami]

Have you tried growing your own?