By Rebecca Thistlewaite

You watched Food, Inc. with your mouth aghast. You own a few cookbooks.

You go out to that hot new restaurant with the tattooed chef who’s putting on a whole-animal, nose-to-tail pricy special dinner. You bliss out on highfalutin’ pork rinds, braised pigs feet, rustic paté, and porchetta.
Later that weekend, you nibble on small bites as you stroll down the city street, blocked off for a weekend “foodie” festival.

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