The Evolved Eater

by Nick Taranto

  THIRD COURSE

  How to Feed Ten Billion People

  But don’t give up all hope quite yet. In chapter 8, I’ll talk about how and why we started Plated to do things differently from Big Food and escape the CRAP Trap. In chapter 9, we’ll discuss the future of food and nutrition and what we can do to save both our waistlines and the planet. In chapter 10, we’ll talk about cooking and happiness. And in the conclusion, I’ll share some very practical things that you can do to make a change, starting right now.

  Becoming an Evolved Eater is not a destination but a journey. My personal path to transforming into an Evolved Eater was catalyzed by starting Plated, and just as I have evolved to meet new challenges and demands, so has Plated.

  New Food Ideas Require New Food Companies

  How do we fight the millions of years of human evolution that sit on our shoulders, and in our guts, that are pushing us toward riskily altered foods? How do we encourage healthier habits on the whole so that our diet is more heavily tilted toward fresher foods and smaller portions?

  We need to change our memories and associations so that our taste preferences change over time, so that we crave roasted sweet potatoes instead of potato chips.

  Sound crazy?

  The really crazy part is that the way our food system is currently configured is making us sick. Fixing it is only possible through making the healthy, real, delicious foods the default through easier access and education. And that’s what Plated is all about.

  Here are four core beliefs that Josh and I had that have come to define how we are building Plated to be a brand and business that will last for decades:

  Belief 1: Transparency and control over personal and planetary health are essential.

  Belief 2: The definition of healthy living is intensely personal.

  Belief 3: People succeed when it’s easier to do the right thing than the wrong thing.

  Belief 4: Food, and the experiences of choosing it, cooking it, and sharing it, are to be celebrated, and thoughtful design in all things is an essential part of that celebration.

  I’ll expand on these beliefs in the chapters to come because they form the basis of how we think about building a better food business and a better food system.

  How do we evolve the food system forward so that it helps our planet and our bodies while still being a very pleasurable experience? It’s deceptively alluring to say that Evolved Eaters need to hit Pause and go back in time to an earlier, less-industrialized era. “Let’s throw away this system and go back to a simpler world! Let’s harvest our own kale and beans and cook every meal of the day!” But peel back one layer of the onion, and that solution fails the sniff test. In a survey conducted in 2012, over half of Americans claimed ignorance. Working out their income tax, they said, was easier than knowing how to eat well.4

  What does it mean to be an Evolved Eater?

  You don’t have to grow your own food, religiously practice veganism, and be a walking encyclopedia of nutrition. Food in the twenty-first century has become complicated, complex, and overwhelming, and as we’ll see later, when things get complicated, we often fail. Eating doesn’t need to be complicated or painful or overthought, and that’s what the Evolved Eater revolution is all about.

  I’ve found that more evolved eating has made me feel better, look better, and have a better life. I’ve learned that what I eat has a direct impact on how I feel. I’ve learned that preparing meals with the people I love offers an unparalleled opportunity for greater health, happiness, and connection. And while nutrition science is still a nebulous no-man’s-land, I’ve learned that cooking more really does lead to living better. I’m on my way to becoming an Evolved Eater—and I’m not alone.

  Several years ago, after we appeared on the hit TV show Shark Tank, Josh and I were concerned that we had tapped out the market for our cook-at-home delivery service. We had several tens of thousands of customers, and we were worried that there just weren’t that many more potential people to serve. Neither of us comes from a traditional marketing background, but we worked with some supersmart folks to conduct proprietary market research asking questions like “How big can this market be?” “How many customers are out there?” “What do they look like, and how do they live their lives?”

  What came back formed the genesis of this book. More than thirty-one million Americans are Evolved Eaters, conscientious consumers who care about what they eat and where it comes from. Evolved Eaters value connection, discovery, integrity, ambition, and balance. They’re the kind of people who strive constantly to improve, and eating is an inseparable part of this evolution. They want quality and value in every bite of their lives.

  Evolved Eaters are curious, ambitious, highly connected individuals. They want good food and good information. They are men and women from all walks of life who share one common trait: They are voracious for a better way to eat. While eventually we want our business model to work for everyone, today we are building the Plated brand for Evolved Eaters. An Evolved Eater is, by definition, an evolving eater, and when you need us along the way, we’ll be there for you.

  * * *

  If the population continues to grow as predicted, and if the way food is grown, manufactured, distributed, marketed, purchased, and consumed doesn’t change, what we can expect is increasingly more riskily altered, heavily processed, food-like products. One solution to feeding three billion incremental mouths across the planet is a more consumer-friendly version of MREs. Imagine shelf-stable jalapeño cheese spread, heat-and-eat chili, and rib-shaped pork-substitute patties for breakfast, lunch, and dinner—forever. There is a contingent in both Silicon Valley and the more established food world who believe that tasteless shakes and synthetic, lab-designed nutrition is the answer. Trust me, this is not a palatable future. For anyone.

  The solution must rise from a new breed of food companies focused on making real, good, fresh food more affordable and accessible. Big Food doesn’t have the answers, and it is not capable of developing the answers on its own. If we are going to feed the world and do it affordably, conveniently, and in a sustainable, healthy, and delicious way, then the answer must come from technology and data-driven companies like Plated. We can prove that good food can be grown in a good way, affordably, where workers are treated well, and where the earth, our waistlines, our wallets, and our relationships don’t pay the price.

  The food supply chain (a farm at one end and a meal at the other) isn’t really a “chain.” As described in chapter 3, the food supply chain is actually more like a food pyramid, at least the way it exists today: The fast-food joints sit at the top, supplied by the processors and manufacturers, who get their raw inputs from meat producers and farmers, who form the base of the pyramid.5

  And over time, this is how I came to understand that eating and farming are the same thing. We are fooling ourselves if we believe that we can build a sustainable, healthy, affordable, and convenient approach to food on the base of what currently exists. We can’t think about changing only parts of the way we eat; that is too shortsighted and narrow-minded. We need to build an entirely new and better way to eat, where fresh and real food is a reality for everyone.6

  There is so much work to be done that it’s easy to get overwhelmed, but in this book and in my life in general, I try to be a cheerleader for action. Instead of fretting about the future of food and preaching to the artisanal-cocktail kale-encrusted choir, my hope is that this book is a call to arms that leads you to do something different.

  That shouldn’t be scary. For example, one of my top pieces of advice is learn to be a hedonist. It is very possible to train yourself to love cooking and to experience deep levels of satisfaction, happiness, and pleasure from the act. If I could do it, anyone can. This doesn’t mean you need to perpetually wear an apron and reek of sautéed shallots, but it does mean developing real-life solutions for staying close to your food and eating better—not just healthier, tastier, or more conveniently.

  At
Plated, we have come a remarkably long way in just a few years. But the challenges we have already overcome (getting our business up and off the ground, avoiding bankruptcy, and figuring out how to do right by our customers, our investors, our employees, and the environment) are small compared to the challenges we still have ahead of us. We are up against some of the biggest problems that have defined the modern world. In order to succeed in our mission, we need your help.

  Just like Darwin’s theory of evolution, Big Food’s evolution thus far has not been deliberate. Monkeys and turtles don’t sit there planning how they will adapt to changing times—they just react and either survive or die. We see similar behavior from the world’s biggest food companies—they are the result of a process that was not necessarily consciously constructed.

  The intersection of my personal quest, Plated’s journey, the history of modern food, and human evolution come together over the following pages. These disparate threads all share the common theme of unintended consequences, some good, some bad. Darwin’s theory doesn’t have a goal beyond survival. At Plated, we now have the opportunity to consciously evolve. I hope you’ll come with me!

  * * *

  Picture of an Evolved Eater

  Jordan Burns, Washington, D.C.

  Jordan is a student at American University, and she wrote this note and sent it to the Plated Customer Care Team: 21 Reasons Why Plated Changed My Life7

  Here are 21 reasons why Plated has changed who I am today:

    1. I no longer eat frozen food every night.

    2. My relationship with my mom has gotten stronger.

    3. I know how to make a basic dinner into a real meal.

    4. Trying new things doesn’t scare me anymore.

    5. I understand servings now.

    6. My boyfriend and I have another way to bond.

    7. I realized I have been using way too much oil.

    8. I don’t second-guess myself in the kitchen anymore.

    9. I have come to appreciate the art of timing.

  10. I realize now how hard it must have been for my mom to cook dinner for six kids every night.

  11. I can finally go to the grocery store and not just buy junk food.

  12. Herbs and spices aren’t just an afterthought.

  13. I don’t feel the need to constantly go out to dinner.

  14. I have something to look forward to in the mail every week.

  15. I have become obsessed with kitchen utensils.

  16. I have figured out that there is so much more than just mild cheddar cheese.

  17. Multiple steps in a recipe no longer make me recoil.

  18. The microwave is no longer my most-used kitchen appliance.

  19. I have become mindful while eating.

  20. I spend a lot more time discussing food now.

  21. I learned that cooking isn’t a task, it’s an experience.

  * * *

  Appetizer

  My Journey from Junk-Food Junkie to Evolved Eater

  Confessions of a Candy Hustler

  Plated isn’t my first foray into the food business. I had a very successful candy business when I was a kid. And by “very successful,” I mean I got shut down by the cops on my first day. That’s right. What follows are the confessions of a second-grade candy hustler.

  I grew up in a leafy suburb of New York City, the eldest of four kids. I was lucky in many ways—I walked to my elementary school and played with the neighborhood kids at the park down the street. Both of my parents worked. My mom was a pediatrician, and my dad took the train into the city every day to work as a health care consultant. He worked long hours, and we didn’t see him much during the week, but we spent a lot of time together on the weekends. Both he and my mom loved to cook, and they made family—and family meals—a priority.

  But don’t get me wrong—I wasn’t some kind of kindergarten health nut slurping down chia-and-spinach shakes. I was a chubby little kid. I loved to eat, and I really didn’t care what I was eating or where it came from. One Halloween, when I was eight years old, I went trick-or-treating with a giant Hefty garbage bag. When I got home that night, the bag was packed with hundreds, if not thousands, of pieces of candy.

  Of course at the time, I had no idea that candy was riskily altered food, full of empty calories and processed chemicals I couldn’t pronounce. All I knew was that I wanted to eat it, and nobody was going to come between my pudgy little fingers and my candy. You can imagine my surprise when my mom said, “Nick, you can keep ten pieces and you can put ten more in the freezer, but you have to either throw away the rest or give it to the other kids.”

  This was totally unacceptable. “I don’t want to give it away,” I said. “I want to eat it.”

  “You can’t eat it.”

  “Fine.”

  What my mom didn’t know was that by her toeing a hard line on the Halloween candy, she was actually instilling in me my very first entrepreneurial aspirations. No way was I going to throw that candy away. If she wouldn’t let me eat it, then I was going to sell it.

  In the early 1990s, computers were still relatively new, so I went over to a friend’s place and typed up these super bootleg signs. CANDY FOR SALE the signs said in huge font. Then I put my home phone number at the bottom so interested buyers could call me and arrange the drop-off like some kind of shady drug deal. I printed them out and walked up and down the streets of our neighborhood, stapling them to telephone poles.

  Then I hoisted my big garbage bag over my shoulder like a suburban hobo and knocked on a few doors. It was my first time as a door-to-door salesman, but I figured I might as well leverage the power of some face-to-face interactions with my potential customers.

  Keep in mind this was two days after Halloween. Everyone had so much candy. Our neighbors humored me, but I’m sure after they shut the door they said to each other, “What are his parents thinking letting this kid go door-to-door selling candy out of a Hefty garbage bag?”

  But that wasn’t even the worst of it. Within a day of my posting the flyers around the neighborhood, the police called my parents.

  “You know it’s against regulations to sell loose candy without a permit,” they told my mom.

  “Officer, you do know my son is eight years old.”

  “Well, ma’am, your son still needs to go take those signs down.”

  Apparently, I was violating all sorts of laws trying to sell and distribute food without a license. Of course, my mom had not given “sell the candy” as an option on her drop-down menu. Luckily for me, my parents were more amused than angry, and they went with me to take down all the neighborhood signs.

  My dad talks about how that was my first encounter with the regulatory limitations in conducting business, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

  Why share this story with you? Because it illuminates a few themes that form the backbone of this book:

  1. There is a massive problem with how we eat as modern Americans. The fact that we have a national Celebrate Candy Day (Halloween) is emblematic of how processed food has overtaken rational, healthy, and less sugar-infused nutrition for everyone, but especially kids. We have become disconnected from our kitchens and our food, and we are suffering as a consequence.

  2. Building a food business—any food business—is incredibly difficult. I experienced my first run-in with the regulators at a young age. Building a food business that enables transparency, convenience, sustainability, high quality, and value has historically been nearly impossible. We started Plated to use technology to reconnect people to their food and the experience of preparing and sharing it. A new breed of food companies like Plated is required if we are going to feed ten billion people fresh, real food by 2050. We fervently believe that feeding our planet fresh, real food requires bold imagination and tech-centric innovation.

  3. Life is complicated. Eating doesn’t need to be. Integrating cooking into our eating routine can make us happier, hea
lthier, and more connected to the people and world around us.

  From Tragedy to Taking the Entrepreneurial Plunge

  I had a sunny childhood like any happy kid in the suburbs—until the event that changed everything. When I was fourteen years old, our family experienced a crisis that profoundly altered the course of my life and would forever shape the way I saw the world.

  Life Can Disappear in a Flash

  We had known the Merollas forever. At least that’s how it felt. They lived down the street from us, and their three kids lined up pretty close to my siblings and me in age. We first met the Merollas because their mom, Susan, was my dad’s marathon partner. Even in the scorching summer months, my dad and Susan spent a dozen hours a week in training. It paid off; they both successfully ran the New York City Marathon in November 1992.

  Just a few weeks later, in December of the same year, Susan was diagnosed with breast cancer. The doctors caught it very early, and everyone was hopeful they’d be able to treat it with radiation and chemotherapy.

  Susan was the first person I knew with cancer. She often came over to our house, bringing the boys to play with my brother and me. I remember the wigs and outrageous hats she wore after all her hair fell out. As a kid, it was scary to see changes like that happening, but she always handled everything with grace and humor. She was one tough lady.