Jordan - Edible Memory: The Lure of Heirloom Tomatoes and Other Forgotten Foods

I ALWAYS READ a books acknowledgments in search of networks and connections, but also as an insight into the conditions under which a book was produced. In my experience a book takes twice as long to write as I originally expect, and this one has undergone dramatic transformations over the years of its slow creation. Many, many people have helped me along the way, and some may already have forgotten the role they played at critical early stages. So much of this book was a learning experience for me, and it is deeply pleasurable and immensely humbling to realize how little I knew when I began and how much I had to learn from the people I spoke with and read about. I very much appreciate the patience of so many people, both with my questions and with the time that has elapsed between our conversations in fields, orchards, or gardens and the appearance of this book.

The first people to thank are those who funded various stages of the research. A Fulbright fellowship to the International Research Center for Cultural Studies (IFK) in Vienna in 2007 afforded the first opportunity to really throw myself into this research (quite literally at one point). The remarkable collection of people at the IFK played a crucial role in developing my thinking about this subject. The opportunity to read, write, talk, and eat with such an energetic group of graduate students, midcareer faculty like myself, and bright stars in the academic skies was invaluable.

A subsequent and much longer fellowship from the Austrian Research Fund (FWF) for a position as a senior scientist at the Austrian Academy of Sciences took place in the welcoming context of the Institute for Cultural Studies (IKT), led first by Moritz Csky and then by Michael Rssner. While much of this time was spent working on a different book, discussing my research with these wonderful colleagues was invaluable for Edible Memory as well as for the book I was writing then (a book about gardens that will someday see the light of day). This position also gave me the opportunity to meet with a diverse array of colleagues from many disciplines, who would bring me newspaper clippings about heirloom vegetable fairs and generously critique my work. Moritz Csky in particular contributed great enthusiasm and extremely fruitful conversations, most often within the welcoming walls of the Altes Caf. Special thanks in this era are also due to Aleida Assmann, Kurt Farasin, Lutz Musner, Reinhard Puntigam, Herwig Pucher, Oliver Rathkolb, and especially Beate Koller and Dirk Rupnow. Other stages of the research were helped tremendously by the gardeners, curators, monks, and public relations people who answered my e-mails and showed me around. Marcia Carmichael, Andy Mariani, and Andy Griffin were extremely helpful, as were Chris Braithwaite and Ulrike Nehiba.

I was able to take advantage of external funding only because of the patience and forbearance of my colleagues at the University of WisconsinMilwaukee, who recognized the once-in-a-lifetime chance these fellowships afforded me. They tolerated my lengthy absence, welcomed me back home and (as so many others have done) passed along recipes and tales of fabulous tomatoes. The colleagues who read my work include Nancy Mathiowetz, Bill Mayrl, Stacey Oliker, and Kent Redding. It would have taken considerably more than seven years to write this book without the help of Deb Ritchie Kolberg, Alexander Taylor, Heather Durant, Mary OBryan, and Diana Jaskierny, who oversaw hours of scanning and searching for everything from articles about peaches to statistics about supermarkets. I am so grateful for their help and their good cheer! Deb Ritchie Kolberg in particular provided not only support but also inspiration, in our many conversations about the world in general and food in particular. Ashkan Rezvani Naraghi also deserves many thanks for his tireless work in the final stages of editing, as well as his assistance with the next project.

My students over the many years of my career also deserve many thanks. I have only once taught a class on food, but I manage to work the topic into seminars on the history of sociological theory or urban change nonetheless. My students have followed the progress of the book, waited patiently for comments on their work when I was trying to meet a deadline, brought me articles and stories and bits of trivia, and inspired me with their curiosity and enthusiasm for the subject. I have learned more from them than they will probably ever know, and their imprint is definitely on the pages of this book. I hesitate to name names because I would no doubt leave out someone important, so suffice it to say that I am grateful to you all.

Several professionals in the world of words lent a hand at various points in the arduous task of writing, including Shari Caudron, Peter Dreyer, and Alice Bennett, cogent readers whose efforts helped clarify the manuscript at crucial moments. In the world of sociology and neighboring disciplines, Wendy Griswold, Chandra Mukerji, Jeff Olick, Julie Guthman, Michael Carolan, and Rick Biernacki, among many others, offered valuable insight and support across the many years of writing. The talks I gave at widely different stages of research, writing, and thinking also shaped the final product, including talks at Northwestern University, the University of California, Santa Cruz, Ohio State University, the Chicago Rarities Orchard Project, Slow Food/Terra Madre Austria, University College Dublin, and the Chicago Columbia Society. Speaking to such a range of audiences honed my thinking about food and memory, and I also appreciate the stories and examples that people happily shared at every one of these events.

When it takes seven years to write a book, the debts of gratitude to friends and family and colleagues pile up considerably. Many, many thanks are due to the people who have read and commented on portions of the manuscript over the years. Particular thanks are due to Jim Jordan, Sandy Jordan, and Dick Archer for generously reading the entire manuscript at a late stage. My mother, Sandy Jordan, deserves special thanks for the steady stream of newspaper clippings and recipes, and for her careful perusal of British Country Living for any information about antique pigs or heirloom beans. How lucky I am to have parents who understand why their daughter might set out to write a book about tomatoes, and who have been unwavering in their support from the moment it became clear that much of my life would be wrapped up in words and books and classrooms. Much love and many thanks are also due to some of my favorite people on this earth, Carl Jordan, Carrie Diaz, and Clyde Jordan, for their support and patience with the project, and for their gentle encouragement to wrap it up.