The question of how a food lives on in us first arose when I was eating a delicious organic artichoke. I was happy with this beautiful food and the opportunity to eat it. Until I tuned in. Then I found a being who was not at all happy to be eaten, but was a mix of angry and sad. Startled, I contemplated the reality of artichoke as a big thistle bud: When you eat us, we don’t get to fly. When we’re allowed to flower, we develop seeds with parachutes. The slightest wind sends us flying, which is our greatest pleasure in life. Even more fulfilling is being eaten by a bird, then we fly higher, farther, faster. When you eat us, all this delight is stolen. We don’t like it.