Product Description

Food makes the world go around, according to this absorbing account of how the search for food has shaped human nature. It is more important than love or sex for the simple reason that food is harder to find than a mate. Think of it this way, says Allport, who draws on the research of anthropologists and biologists in presenting her fascinating and provocative theories: Mates are often willing accomplices in the act of mating; food is never a willing accomplice in the act of eating.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #271372 in Books
• Published on: 2003-04
• Original language: English
• Dimensions: .91 pounds
• Binding: Paperback
• 276 pages

From Publishers Weekly
When her husband asked her ("over a wine-dark lamb stew") what role she'd play in a paleolithic society, Allport decided that she'd be a forager, seeking edible leaves, weeds, roots and berries. Out of her hunch about her own natureAand her energy in finding and interviewing specialistsAgrew these investigatory essays about food finding, food selection and food preparation among animals and human beings. Allport (A Natural History of Parenting) visits cold Coats Island in Hudson Bay to learn about the birds called thick-billed murres and how they are nourished, and flourish, in the harsh environment; explains how "changes in food supply can change the sociability of animals" and of starving human beings; glosses modern chimp researchers' conclusions about gender and eating habits; covers the sources of meat and carbohydrate cravings in frustrated humans; and explains why various species of monkeys have drastically different attitudes toward edible leaves, fruit, people and peanut-butter sandwiches. "Optimal Foraging Theory" explains why coyotes might pass up tasty rabbits, and why in the American WestAbut not in the South nor in New EnglandAnative peoples once made meals out of insects. Herb lore, deer-watching, "remarkable hunting techniques" from Kenya to Kalamazoo, "foodie movies" (e.g., Babette's Feast), the origins of neolithic agriculture and Allport's "near-magnetic attraction to half-eaten food" all play into her enlightening study. Not a working scientist, Allport employs a readable style (at times reminiscent of Peter Matthiessen's) that serves her well in condensing the science she gathers: the result is a crisp volume good enough to eat. (Mar.)
Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.

From Library Journal
A dinner conversation sparked natural history writer Allport (A Natural History of Parenting) to seek answers to some questions about our hunt for food, how this process has changed over our evolutionary history, and whether or not we share any food-gathering traits with animals. Allport reveals her sometimes startling findings through an interesting mix of personal anecdotes, first-hand observations, and interviews with scientists. As she shows, animals can be as picky as humans when it comes to selecting what they will eat. When selections are abundant, most species choose the foods rich in nutrients rather than simply the most plentiful substances. Allport's most startling conclusion is that the shift from hunting and gathering to agriculture was not an evolutionary move that improved humankind's health but one that allowed for cultural enhancements not possible in a hunting-and-gathering society alone. Throughout, Allport reveals the links between humanity and the natural world we inhabit. Recommended for larger public and academic libraries.
-Gloria Maxwell, Penn Valley Community Coll. Lib., Kansas City, MO
Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.

From Booklist
A Turkish proverb says, "He who has no bread has no authority," and Allport takes a provocative look at how we feed ourselves and each other. Drawing on interviews with anthropologists and naturalists as well as research and her own foraging and observation in suburban New York State, she finds and questions a lot of the patterns we think we see in hunter-gatherer societies and in animal behavior, and she connects food sharing and reproduction in ways that regular folk might not have recognized. Some of her work is a gentle rebuke to those who see vegetarianism and rejection of dairy products as a better, purer moral stand; in other places, she muses about her place in the kitchen, and the ways some societies use food to control women. It's an appealing combination of ethnobiology and tabletalk about food, with connections both to Diane Ackerman's lush Natural History of the Senses (1990) and Marie Winn's acute observation in Red-Tails in Love (1998). GraceAnne A. DeCandido