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Terroirs as spaces of intergenerational justice: Building Communities for the “Food Citizen”


Abstract: This article examines the “food citizens” naturalized in and through practices which identify themselves as “local food” through an exploration of the ways in which they conceive of food and of their subjects. More specifically, I argue that these practices contribute to a redefinition of food and eating as an issue of intergenerational justice pertaining to multiple spatial identities. In so doing, local food posits “food citizens” who are required to take responsibility for the many consequences – present and future, local and global – of their daily purchasing practices and who are impelled to do so through their participation in moral communities.

Keywords: local food, citizenship, intergenerational justice, post-cosmopolitanism, “government through communities”, governmentality.

TO ABSTAIN WITHOUT PRESSING REASONS FROM EATING chocolate, black pepper, bananas, sugar and coffee for a full year would probably sound like a pretty ludicrous idea to most of us. But not to Alisa Smith and J.B. MacKinnon, who, in 2005, decided to renounce for a year all foods produced outside of a hundred mile range from their Vancouver home – that is, to embark on a “100-mile diet.” The demands on the authors’ lives were considerable: no bread or pasta for seven months (but plenty of potatoes) as well as numerous hours spent tracking local producers, preparing meals from scratch, and canning for winter. Yet thousands of people chose to commit to a 100-mile diet for a more or less extended period of time, inspired by the chronicles of the couple’s adventure [1]. The popular appeal of Smith and MacKinnon’s diet may at first seem rather puzzling and yet it is really only one of the many manifestations of the prominence recently gained by local food in North America, Australia as well as most parts of Europe: farmers’ markets and community-supported agriculture (CSA) schemes are booming, the Slow Food community’s membership is steadily increasing, a growing number of celebrity chefs are championing local food, and several countries are putting in place Protected Designation of Origin labelling schemes [2]. Concurrently, academics and activists alike are pushing for “food sovereignty” to be recognized as a guiding principle of international trade relations and international law. In these and other practices, “local food” is posited as the privileged solution to a whole set of alimentary, ecological, economical, and health-related problems, from the environmental impact of food transportation to the insufficiencies in regional economic development to the alleged tastelessness of industrially grown food.

In what follows, I would like to depart from discussions as to whether or not local food can actually fulfill all of these promises. Rather, I propose to examine how food practices and their subjects are conceived of by local food discourses in order to foreground the “truths” that these later tend to naturalize. My primary aim, then, is not to valour or to reject these “truths” – even if I intend to stress some of their exclusionary effects by way of conclusion – but to critically expose them as contingent forms of power-knowledge [3]. More specifically, I contend that, in locating the value of food well beyond its sole nutritional content, local food contributes to a redefinition of food and eating as an issue of intergenerational justice pertaining to a temporally but also spatially extended community. In so doing, these practices deploy and naturalize subjects who are to be understood as “food citizens” required to take responsibility for the many consequences – present and future, local and global – of their daily purchasing practices.

The Local Food “Movement”

While some theorists have rightly pointed to a lack of transparency in the scope and signification of the “local” in the multitude of contemporary local food practices [4], all “local food” projects do share an understanding of food products as intrinsically linked to the locations from which they originate. As a result, the value of a given fruit or jelly is not to be found solely in its nutritional content (as it is the case in the numerous discourses on “super-nutrients” and their ideology of “nutritionism” [5]). Rather, a given food item has to be assessed first and foremost on the basis of the geography, know-how or tradition involved in its production process:

In its broadest sense, a ‘local food product’ is a food that is typically linked to an identified location either through geography, know-how or tradition. On the one hand local products can merely relate to closeness (meaning farm products from the local area), making the local aspect quite physical and concrete. On the other hand local products can relate to origin and cover different types of localised, or re-localised, food products that often add value through quality. [6]

The French notion of terroir epitomizes this understanding [7]. Since its inception at the turn of the twentieth century, this notion has come to occupy an increasingly prominent place in the imaginary and agricultural policy of a growing number of nations. Not incidental to this success is the fact that terroirs are a very effective marketing tool for local food products as they embody:

…the combination of natural factors (soil, water, slope, height above the sea level, vegetation, microclimate) and human ones (tradition and practice of cultivation) that gives a unique character to each small agricultural locality and the food grown, raised, made, and cooked there. [8]

It thus encompasses all at once the geography, the know-how and the tradition required for the production of unique foods – a set of processes (ecological and cultural but also economical) that are in dynamic interaction and that form politically, I suggest, an environment to be preserved. Indeed, the rationale deployed in/through discourses on terroir and, more generally, on local foods is basically that consuming foods that require unique local environments for their production is a means of ensuring the safeguard of these very environmental conditions for generations to come. [9]

Terroirs as spaces of intergenerational justice

The ideal of preservation plays a pivotal role in local food practices. It emerges, for instance, in the opening statement of Slow Food’s official philosophy, which declares that “everyone has a fundamental right to pleasure and consequently the responsibility to protect the heritage of food, tradition and culture that make this pleasure possible” [10]. Furthermore, it is rendered even more apparent in the explicit endorsement of sustainable development’s goals in many local food discourses. For example, consider the “Quebec in your plate” media campaign launched in early 2008 by the Government of Quebec. In these advertisements consumers are told that by buying locally produced and/or transformed foods they contribute to “upholding the know-how of local people [while] having a determinant impact on the environment and collective prosperity” [11]. Such references to sustainable development or to its three pillars – social, ecological and economic sustainability – are frequent in discussions concerning the benefits to be expected from local foods and they contribute to construe local food as connected to the movement towards sustainable development that has become ubiquitous in the last decade or so.

Through and in local food practices, then, a given product’s value is perceived as dependent upon the web of (ecological, social and economical) relations of which it participates, itself evaluated in terms of its capacity to maximize the possibilities for future generations to ensure their own well-being – a “truth” of food which differs significantly from that mobilised in other widely circulated discourses such as that of international trade, for instance. Yet what has to be preserved and transmitted here is not a fixed set of products or recipes which would warrant protection by virtue of being traditional or intrinsically better than others. This is particularly manifest in North America, where terroir is a relatively new category and appeals to “reinvent” terroirs – that is, to create them – are frequent [12]. Hence community-supported agriculture, the 100-mile diet and, for that matter, practices driven by the ideal of sustainable development in general, are not intended to preserve a predetermined set of resources. Rather, local food is conceived in and through these discourses as a way to maximize diversity in order to ensure that the environmental potential available to future generations will be sufficient for them to creatively “meet their own needs”. Each terroir, therefore, embodies a very unique potential to be preserved and transmitted.

One effect of this objectification, I suggest, is to posit local food as an issue of intergenerational justice whereby subjects are impelled as members of a “transgenerational community” [13] from which they derive moral obligations to future generations. Thus put forth and naturalized, then, are “food citizens” whose duty in choosing between locally grown strawberries and those shipped across the country is to balance their own preferences with the potential impact of each option on the environments to be devolved to the next generations.

Yet not only is this transgenerational community spread in time but it is also spatially extended. Indeed, local food’s spatial imaginary is not that of more or less precisely defined “local communities,” as opposed to “the global”. To the contrary, I would argue, these practices mostly reject such a dichotomy to rather conceive of all spatial identities (those of the nation, the family and the body included) as intrinsically linked to one another. More precisely, they are conceived of as ongoing and interrelated constructions – that is, as relational spaces [14]. With regard to local food, such a view translates, for instance, into Slow Food’s contention that terroir foods have to be protected primarily so that every consumer around the globe can exert her “right to pleasure”. Or, again, into the 100-mile diet’s slogan: “Eating local for global changes” [15]. To return to my earlier example, then, in choosing between locally grown strawberries and those shipped across the country, subjects are impelled to care for the potential impact of each option on the resources to be devolved to the next generation considering that this impact pertains to multiple spatial identities (individual, familial, local, global, etc.). Practices which self-consciously identify themselves as “local food” thus presume subjects who buy vegetables from their neighbour or grow backyard gardens not out of economical necessity or habit but as a means to care for distant others – an understanding which has rightly been repeatedly criticized as restricting access to food citizenship to the economically privileged while overseeing the ways in people (mostly women) have been doing small-scale subsistence agriculture for years.

Governing Through Food Communities

In locating their subjects in a spatiotemporally extended community of obligation, local food practices can be seen to put forth a food citizenship which overlaps substantially with the emergent notion of post-cosmopolitanism. In line with citizenship studies’ recent revival of interest in spatially distant others and non state-centred forms of citizenship, post-cosmopolitanism:

supports the idea of a globalized citizenry, but is does so not on the basis of abstract human rights and universal principles of dialogue (as with cosmopolitan citizenship), but in the context of the socio-ecological obligations which have arisen as a result of the historical unfolding of globalization (Dobson, 2003, p.81).  [16]

As this quote suggests, the political space of obligation of post-cosmopolitanism is not fixed or predetermined but historically produced through the “activities of individuals and groups with the capacity to spread and impose themselves in geographical [and] diachronic… space” [17]. Post-cosmopolitanism, that is to say, is concerned with the non-reciprocal obligations which originate from the material relations constitutive of globalization and their more or less spatially and temporally distant effects. In that sense, the post-cosmopolitan and the local food citizen are similarly impelled to consider the impacts of their daily activities on future generations and remote members of the community.

Yet discourses on local food and post-cosmopolitanism diverge significantly as the former uniquely posits a citizen who is involved in communities of values. Post-cosmopolitanism indeed suggests that those who wish to fulfil their duty as citizens can do so primarily through voluntary changes in their lifestyles: more recycling, fair trade coffee, reusable grocery bags. The citizen here is conceived of as an autonomous and rational subject choosing to engage (or not) in given practices on the basis of risks/benefits calculus [18]; the potential impact of one’s actions on global warming against the amount of time required for rinsing recyclable items or, again, the contentment of helping poor farmers against the extra cost of fair trade products. This is a view which contrasts from that deployed in local food discourses, in which the objective is chiefly to “reconnect” producers and consumers – that is to foster the development of affective bonds so that autonomous subjects come to see themselves as members of communities of values. Examples abound here: from the rather obvious case of CSA initiatives to the routine depiction of farmers’ markets as sociability-inducing sites where community members (e.g. producers and consumers) can meet [19]  or, again, Slow Food’s insistence that slow consumers consider themselves as co-producers who are “part of and a partner in the production process.” [20]

The subjects put forth in and through local food, therefore, are not isolated individuals but ethical subjects who govern themselves as members of affective communities from which they derive an obligation to care for others. Buying local food becomes one’s duty as member of a community of values, be it from a farmers’ market, a 100-mile diet group, a CSA or a Slow Food convivium. This understanding – which may or may not be actually taken up by all subjects engaging in such practices – deploys a conception of the citizen as an ethical being which is also pivotal to one the rationalities of government of advanced liberalism, the Third Way [21]. This strategy of rule indeed entails practices of “government through communities” in and through which:

The person whose conduct is to be governed is not seen as living their life as an individualized isolate, but neither are they understood as a member of a national collective, a society. They are understood as citizens of communities, of associations, of networks, of belongingness, of cultures, of identity. Hence, it appears, political strategies can act upon them indirectly. By acting upon these associations, networks, cultures of belongingness and identity, by building networks, enhancing trust relations, developing mutuality and co-operation – through a new relation between ethical citizenship and responsible community, fostered by, but not administered by, the state – citizens can now be “governed through community”.[22]

“Building networks” and “enhancing trust relations” so that those involved will feel morally obliged to act in a given way is exactly what local food is about: bringing consumers to buy their vegetables directly from the farmer who has produced them as a way to create relations of mutual trust which most would feel rather uneasy to betray simply because there is a discount that week at the grocery store.

There are thus two distinct ways in which issues of community are deployed in/through local food discourses. Responsibility for the impact of one’s food choices on various environments in which more or less spatiotemporally-distant others evolve is somewhat connected with – or, maybe more accurately, ensured by [23] – the duty one has towards the specific communities of values of which one is a part. This can translate into a variety of practices, from one’s involvement in the nearby Slow Food chapter’s effort to support an artisan food producer in Uruguay to one’s decision to enter in a 100-mile diet so as to maximize the resources that will be available for the children of her village to meet their own needs. For, as we have seen, the relational conception of space mobilized in local food implies that practices directed at a multiplicity of communities (one’s family or neighbourhood, a group of local milk producers, etc.) can as well be considered to impact the resources to be devolved onto generations to come. Moreover, there is certainly more than one community of values in which citizens may engage, often with uneven conviction. Hence, it does not matter that much whether one buys local food primarily to provide a healthy environment to his own children or to preserve regional agricultural traditions, whether one feels loosely bounded to the famers she interacts with every week or is strongly engaged in a CSA group as long as the “problem” to which these practices are posited as an answer is the same.


What does seem to matter, however, is that these are primarily purchasing practices. Indeed, as should be apparent from the examples given so far, the crux of local food discourses is that citizens should buy local products; nothing really emphasizes how these products should then be prepared and/or consumed [24]. Some “locavores” may well post their own imaginative recipes on the 100-mile diet’s official blog, but overall the focus is clearly on (a change in) the purchasing practices of a “citizen-consumer”: finding boutiques specialized in terroir products, supporting the nearby farmers’ market, looking for labels of origin, picking up one’s CSA weekly basket, stopping by small cheese factories on one’s vacation route, etc. Such an understanding may seem somewhat self-evident in light of the recent burgeoning of interest in the role of the citizen-consumer of political consumerism. Yet I would like to illustrate, by way of conclusion, how it effectively limits what can be said (or not said) of the citizen of local food discourses.

Scanning websites on local food will not teach you anything about community gardens. This is a rather surprising “omission” given that there is arguably no food that is more “local” than that produced in one’s own neighbourhood and that these are organized around groups of individuals sharing affective bonds and values. It does make some sense, however, in light of what has just been said – that these websites are both presuming and impelling citizens as consumers. This is due to the fact that the market rationality mobilized in/through such an objectification precludes consideration of practices, such as that of community gardens, which cannot be thought of in terms of a consumers/producers dichotomy. In focussing on purchasing habits, then, local food discourses tend to reassert and naturalize the categories of the consumers and the producers, thus leaving unquestioned the basic premises of the market rationality. Besides, they clearly posit the “problem” of local food on the consumption end of the exchange process; what is needed, first and foremost, is a shift in the shopping habits of the citizen-consumer and not changes in patterns of production and distribution [25]. Except that the stress is laid upon the purchasing choices of abstract “citizens-consumers” with no mention made of the potential limitations to one’s actual capacity to buy local food. What about, for instance, those who do not earn enough income to “chose” to pay more for local products? Or those whose culturally-determined food demands or needs cannot be met by local products? How are inhabitants of “food deserts” who do not have access to a car to engage in such practices? These are some significant questions, I believe, that are silenced by the way in which “the citizen” is objectified in/through local food discourses. And this is why we should seek to challenge discourses positing local food as a panacea by foregrounding the ways in which they simultaneously legitimize certain practices and preclude others.


[1] Both were writing for an online journal at the time of their adventure (“”) and they have since set up their own website (“”) and published The 100-Mile Diet: A Year of Local Eating (2007).

[2] “Community-supported agriculture” consists in a group of individuals who become “partners” of a farm by purchasing in advance a share of the season’s harvest that is then made available through food baskets that have to be picked up weekly at a given drop-off point (see the United States Department of Agriculture’s website for more information: “”). Slow Food, on the other hand, is a non-profit “eco-gastronomic” international network aimed at preserving and promoting local food traditions; founded in 1989, its membership is now of over 85 000 members in 132 countries (“” ).

[3] As pointed out by Foucault, to critique is not to adopt a normative stand but to show the unquestioned presumptions, familiarities and rationalities on which are based accepted practices (« Est-il donc important de penser? », p. 997-1001). The critique of the “truth” of the citizen that local food tend to naturalize that I am proposing here is part of a larger dissertation project building on Michel Foucault’s notions of power-knowledge and of governmentality to examine contemporary food practices as privileged sites in/through which issues of citizenship are currently deployed (Surveiller et punir: Naissance de la prison, 36; see also Foucault, “Governementality”, 87-104 and Dean, Governmentality: Power and Rule in Modern Society).

[4] Hinrichs, “The practice and politics of food system localization”, 33. See also Winter, “Embeddedness, the New Food Economy and Defensive Localism”, 30 and Holloway & Kneafsey, “Reading the Space of the Farmers’ Market: A Preliminary Investigation from the UK”, 296.

[5] Scrinis, “On the Ideology of Nutritionism”, 39-48.

[6] Amilien, Fort and Ferras, “Hyper-real territories and urban markets: changing conventions for local food – case studies from France and Norway”, 2.

[7] There is no rigorous English translation for this term, as Trubek, between others, has observed (The Taste of Place. A Cultural Journey into Terroir, 9).

[8] Cited in Trubek, The Taste of Place. A Cultural Journey into Terroir, 238.

[9] It can be argued, I suggest, that discourses on terroir and local food basically share the same rationale as they both assume that the quality of a product derives from its ecological, economical and social conditions of production. In fact, the deepness of the historical roots of the “traditions” involved seems to be their main point of distinction, particularly in the few countries such as France which actually have long-standing traditions of artisanal food production.

[10] Slow Food, “”, 2 September 2008.

[11] Ministère de l’Agriculture, des Pêcheries et de l’Alimentation du Québec, “”  (my translation), September 3rd 2008.

[12] For instance, Daniel Pinard – one of the most celebrated food show hosts in the province of Quebec – launched his latest show by declaring that “We don’t have a culinary past. Our ancestors were fishermen. We thus have to reinvent a terroir for ourselves and this is what we will be talking about.” (Paré, “De la politique à l’assiette”, my translation). Similar appeals are observable all over North America.

[13] De-Shalit advocates this concept of “transgenerational community” in his communitarian-inspired discussion of our moral obligation to intergenerational justice. Membership in this community is posited as the rational and free decision of reflexive subjects (Why Posterity Matters. Environmental policies and future generations, 16), an understanding which proves quite consistent with the view put forth through and in local food practices. De-Shalit’s transgenerational community does, however, differ significantly from that of local food in that it is spatially restricted by the need for cultural interaction and moral similarity.

[14] According to Massey, a relational conception of space presumes that “space is a product of practices, trajectories, interrelations (…) we make space through interactions at all levels, from the (so-called) local to the (so-called) global, [and, accordingly] those spatial identities such as places, regions, nations, and the local and the global, must be forged in this relational way too, as internally complex, essentially unboundable in any absolute sense, and inevitably historically changing (…)”(“Geographies of responsibility”, 5).

[15] Op. Cit.

[16] Bullen and Whitehead, “Negotiating the Networks of Space, Time and Substance: A Geographical Perspective on the Sustainable Citizen”, 506.

[17] Dobson, Citizenship and the Environment, 30.

[18] This is a conception of the subject-citizen that is central to the dominant neoliberal rationality of government, understood as a historically contingent assemblage of discursive and non-discursive practices through which contemporary subjects are “governed at distance” (Rose, Inventing Our Selves: Psychology, Power, and Personhood; Dean, Governmentality: Power and Rule in Modern Society, 149-175).

[19] According to Halweil, for instance, “Sociologists estimate that people have 10 times as many conversations at farmer markets than at supermarkets.” (Eat Here. Reclaiming Homegrown Pleasures in a Global Supermarket, 10).

[20] Slow Food,  “”, 29 August 2008.

[21] I do not have the space here to expose the specificities of this rationality of government, which basic premises have been expounded in Giddens’s The Third Way: The Renewal of Social Democracy for instance. It is important to note, however, that I do not conceive of the Third Way as a set of concrete policies nor as an ideology but as a form of governmentality (see Larner, “Neo-liberalism: Policy, Ideology, Governmentality” for an illustration of the respective implications of each of these conceptualizations). Therefore, I consider the Third Way as a strategy of rule – that, once again, I neither valour nor reject – rather than as a specific policy framework (most notably implemented in Britain under Tony Blair).

[22] Rose, “Inventiveness in Politics”, 471.

[23] This is not to say that the latter are simply strategic means to an end, so that they would somewhat exist “outside” or prior to those discourses which posit local food as practices of intergenerational justice directed at various communities (local-global, present-future, etc.). This way of posing the “problem” to which communities of values are seen as an answer indeed has an effect on the way we conceive of the latter. We have to be aware, however, that those same groups can be mobilized in very different discourses where they are disconnected from issues of intergenerational justice (the Slow Food chapter as community of refined gastronomes who value “real” food and eating, for instance). More broadly, subjects may engage in local food practices for quite different reasons than those exposed here as these practices may be simultaneously mobilized in other competing discourses. We may think, for instance, that some people shop at the nearby farmers’ market out of economical necessity rather than care for others. Similarly, one can choose to engage in Slow Food for the sole pleasure of discovering new food products. In emphasizing the “food citizens” presumed and naturalized in and through local food practices I do not intend to suggest that this understanding is necessarily or directly taken up by all subjects engaging in such practices.

[24] Slow Food may be considered as an exception here as it explicitly advocates that “slow eaters” devote more time cook and share meals – a requirement that is somewhat implicit, at least in terms of cooking, in most local food discourses as the products they are promoting usually need to be cooked from scratch. Yet Slow Food does connect with these other similar initiatives in that it is similarly concerned with a citizen-as-consumer, notwithstanding its use of the concept of “co-producer”.

[25] Of course, I do not mean here that production and distribution practices are completely silenced for, as we have seen, the value of local food is posited as dependent upon the web of relations of which it participates. Nonetheless, discourses such as that of the 100-mile diet are not advocating new laws against the agribusiness giants; they are encouraging consumers to buy local products so that sustainable modes of production and distribution will be favoured.

Works cited

Amilien, V., F. Fort and N. Ferras “Hyper-Real Territories and Urban Markets: Changing Conventions for Local Food – Case Studies from France and Norway.” Anthropology of Food, no S2 (2007). Online: Accessed on 4 July 2007.

Bullen, A. and M. Whitehead. “Negotiating the Networks of Space, Time and Substance: A Geographical Perspective on the Sustainable Citizen.” Citizenship Studies, 9, no. 5 (2005): 499-516.

De-Shalit, A. Why Posterity Matters. Environmental policies and future generations. London; New York: Routledge, 1995

Dean, M. Governmentality: Power and Rule in Modern Society. London: Sage Publications, 1999.

Dobson, A. Citizenship and the Environment. Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2003.

Foucault, M. “Governmentality” In The Foucault Effect: Studies in Governmentality: with two lectures and an interview with Michel Foucault, edited by G. Burchell, C. Gordon and P. Miller, 87-104. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1991.

Foucault, M. “Est-il donc important de penser?” In Dits et Écrits II, 1976-1988, 997-1001. Paris : Gallimard, 2001.

Foucault, M. Surveiller et punir: Naissance de la prison. Paris: Gallimard, 1975.

Giddens, A. The Third Way: The Renewal of Social Democracy. Cambridge: Polity Press, 1998.

Halweil, B. Eat Here. Reclaiming Homegrown Pleasures in a Global Supermarket. New York ; London: W.W. Norton & Company, 2004.

Hinrichs, C. C. “The Practice and Politics of Food System Localization.” Journal of Rural Studies, 19 (2003): 33-45.

Holloway, L. and M.  Kneafsey. “Reading the Space of the Farmers’ Market: A Preliminary Investigation from the UK.” Sociologia Ruralis, 40, no. 3 (2000): 285-99.

Holt, G. and V. Amilien. “Conclusion.” Anthropology of Food, no. S2 (2007), Online: Accessed on 2 July 2007.

La Via Campesina. “Declaration of Nyéléni” In Food Sovereignty for Africa: A Challenge at Fingertips, 2-3. Sélingué, Mali, 2008. Online : Accessed on 27 August 2008.

Larner, W. “Neo-liberalism, Policy, Ideology, Governmentality” Studies in Political Economy, 63 (2000): 5-25.

Massey, D. “Geographies of responsibility.” Geografiska Annaler, 86B, no. 1 (2004): 5-18.

Paré, I. “De la politique à l’assiette” In L’agenda. Le Guide de la Télévision et des Sorties. Le Devoir (2007, September 15th): 3.

Rose, N. “Inventiveness in Politics.” Economy and Society, 28, no. 3 (1999): 467-93.

Rose, N. Inventing Our Selves: Psychology, Power, and Personhood. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1996.

Scrinis, G. “On the Ideology of Nutritionism.” Gastronomica. The Journal of Food and Culture, 8, no. 1 (2008): 39-48.

Smith, A. and J. B. Mackinnon. The 100-Mile Diet: A Year of Local Eating. Toronto: Random House Canada, 2007.

Terroirs & Cultures. Chartre des Terroirs. Online : Accessed on August 25th 2008.

Trubek, A.  B. The Taste of Place. A Cultural Journey into Terroir. Berkeley; Los Angeles; London: University of California Press, 2008.

Winter, M. “Embeddedness, the New Food Economy and Defensive Localism.” Journal of Rural Studies, 19 (2003): 23-32.

Author biography: Karine Vigneault is a PhD candidate (ABD) in the Department of Communication at the Université de Montréal (Montreal). With the support of a Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council Doctoral Fellowship, she is exploring contemporary food practices as privileged sites in/through which issues of citizenship and of the “care of the self” are deployed.

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