I am almost finished reading Michael Pollan’s book In Defense of Food, and if you filter out his occasionally pedantic and patronizing attitude, the book is a worthwhile read. Its title really is a summary of his thesis: that what we eat today is not so much food (by which he means the stuff that grows and is naturally produced) but rather the pulled-apart, reduced, processed, fortified and reconstituted stuff that we eat in the place of food. He is encouraging us to eat more food, the kind you get from the farmer’s market, the kind your grandparents and great-grandparents recognized.

The history of the move from food to foodstuff, from food embedded in folkways to food as a nutrition-delivery system, is fascinating. Explaining that is a large portion of his book. But I want to focus here on three take-aways that I found compelling.

The first is the exploration of the question: How do Americans decide when to stop eating? That is, at what point do we say, I have had enough. To set the stage for the answer, first consider how the French respond: “When I am full.” Reasonable enough. But the fact is that we Americans often gobble down our food faster than our bodies can process our fullness. Which means that our sated signal is delayed. We are often full well before we feel full. So we keep eating.

At any rate, “When I am full” is not the answer we give. How, then, do we decide when to stop eating? “When my plate is empty”, we answer, or “When we run out of food.” That is, while the French use internal sensors or markers to determine satiety (sova), Americans use external sensors.

It occurred to me that if, regarding the most personal, physical and individualized matter of appetite, ie, hunger and fullness, we rely on external signals of sova, then of course we are likely to use external sensors for those most public aspects of appetite, ie, conspicuous possession and consumption of goods. That has enormous implications for those of us who seek to build a society based on the spiritual ethic of sova, enoughness.

We need to ask: what are those sensors, regarding physical, economic and spiritual hunger, that let us know that we are satisfied? What signals, what sense of fullness do we use, and are these indeed the best? The answer to these questions can unlock the door to a new, just and vibrant economy, one that fulfills our physical and spiritual needs, assuring the fullness of each and the well-being of all. I will tackle this question in a future blog.

But let me continue to share the two other main take-aways I found in Pollan’s book:

Put simply, he suggests the following: cook more and eat meals (sitting at a table that is set, preferably with others). Which is to say, the ways our foods are prepared and eaten are as important to our health as the food itself.

Food satisfaction is only partly fulfilled by the taste, nutrients and calories we consume. Food consumption is a multi-valenced cycle of preparation (planning, buying, patchke-ing,cooking); eating (hopefully with companionship, which itself is a word that means sharing bread); and post-prandial moments (sitting, chatting, resting, cleaning up). All this combines to shape our responses to food. When we deprive ourselves of most of the components of this system, the burden of food pleasure falls upon the food itself, partly the taste (augmented these days by fats and sugars) and largely the volume.

When we cook, we tend to use and make healthier, less-processed food. And we tend to eat more sensibly.

Even more, when we eat at a meal, we tend to eat more slowly, more mindfully, and less, all the while feeling more satisfied. Food at meals tends to satisfy more than our nutritional needs, although it may also do that better than grazing or snacking all day.

Essentially, what Pollan is saying is that food is a system, both in the way it delivers its nutrients and nourishment, and in the way it feeds our spirit.

Recalibrating our approach to food to return to and accommodate these systems will be good for our bodies, our spirits and the environment. Seems irresistible.

But there is the matter of time. Making time to make food and to eat food, together at a meal, will take a small revolution. That, then, is next our job.