One Thing Eaten
The point is to eat one thing with full knowledge of where it came from, and to say thank you out loud at the end.
This one costs money and an hour and a half. If either is short, do it with something already in the cupboard and give the research ten minutes.
You need one piece of food, an hour for the research, and twenty minutes to eat it. A peach, an egg, a tin of sardines, a bar of chocolate — something with a label or an origin you can chase.
Spend an hour before you eat it finding out: where the ingredients were grown or caught, and in which country; what month they are in season there; who harvests or processes them, and what that work pays; which company owns the brand, and what has been reported about its labor practices; what the food was used for before it was sold in this form; what it does in a body — the vitamins, fats, sugars, protein; and one poem or song about it.
Where the trail stops, write down what is hidden and who is served by the hiding.
Whatever the record says, eat it anyway. The knowing goes in with the food.
Sit down with nothing else happening. No screen, no book, no conversation, no music.
Eat slowly enough to notice the first texture against your teeth, the flavor as it arrives and as it fades, whether you are enjoying it, and the thoughts.
Partway through, check that you are still breathing and that you can feel all ten toes.
On the last bite, bring to mind everything on your list at once — the soil, the weather, the hands.
Record the date, what you ate, and the facts you did not know before.
Then say thank you out loud. Whisper it, say it, sing it, or shout it. Something like: "Thank you for this peach, and for the cloud and the rain and the soil and the people who brought it to me; may all of these relationships deepen."