Kale, Commodification, & Drugs

My roommate, Elyse, knows that I really like kale.  So a few weeks ago, she left a copy of the New Yorker on my bed opened to this article, entitled "The Kale Diaries": http://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2014/09/01/kale-diaries

We have talked in class about the transition from subsistence farming to the commodification of food.  Food products are commodities, and I imagine we tend to think of them as items for purchase more than sustenance.  I guessed that the United States was getting away from growing their own sources of food, but I looked it up online and in 2008 31% of households participated in food gardening (http://www.gardenresearch.com/files/2009-Impact-of-Gardening-in-America-White-Paper.pdf).  Even still, I feel like food gardening is considered a hobby, and food is still seen as something to purchase on the market.  It is almost impossible to be completely self-sufficient.

The article is quite silly, but it speaks to some of the themes that have come up in class.  The article basically pokes fun at kale's increasing popularity and demand on the market, as a commodity, and tells brief stories of what would happen if the demand was not met by the supply.  In other words, the "diary" speaks of the future in a kale shortage.  The shortage drives kale underground, and the use of kale is likened to a drug traded on the drug market.  The humorous tone is light and sarcastic, and refers to "Ma" and "Pa"'s reaction to the kale shortage.  The article is obviously a joke, but sheds light on how food transitions over time, place, and social conditions.  Although it is unlikely that kale would be sold by illegal kale-dealers in a kale shortage, the social context of kale is very important to look at.  I know of people in Brooklyn who have unpasteurized milk delivered to them weekly from farms outside of the city, though this is not really permitted by law.  People love food and do strange things because of this love.  The price, look, taste, and even legality, of foods are both based on and perpetuate a certain social context.

There is a nostalgia associated with food encounters, as well.  Twenty years after the shortage in the "Kale Diaries", the author writes, "But I'll never get used to the sight of someone vaping kale...I prefer the old ways...I find myself most nights staring into an empty salad bowl, reminiscing about the days when we'd delicately slice the rib out of eight or non rubbery leaves...Simpler, happier times."  Although this is in the "shouts and murmurs" section of The New Yorker, it is only funny because people can relate to these feelings and sensations brought on by food and how ridiculous they are.

I hope there is no serious shortage of this leafy green in my lifetime.