Paradise comes at a cost. The Book of Genesis recounts the bite of the forbidden fruit which  cast humanity out of the garden of Eden and condemned us to reap what we sow. But what happens when what we sow is mass-cultivated by giant corporate hands? And what if what we reap is spoiled and rotten?

This summer, iceberg lettuce sold by Taylor Farms de Mexico was tied to the largest Cyclospora outbreak ever recorded in the United States — which caused nearly 13,000 illnesses across 21 states, including 570 hospitalizations and two deaths — by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and Food and Drug Administration. 

A quick rundown of cyclospora in layman’s terms: it is a microscopic parasite that causes an intestinal infection called “cyclosporiasis.” An infected person excretes the parasite’s eggs,  called oocysts, in their stool. However, those eggs are not infectious right away. They must sit in the environment — ideally in a warm climate — for one to two weeks before maturing. Once they do, they can contaminate food or water. 

Humans are the only known hosts, and infection typically comes from consuming contaminated produce such as leafy greens, cilantro, berries or untreated water. In most cases, infection results in diarrhea.

The CDC declared the outbreak officially over on Sept. 11, but the FDA’s investigation continues. The agency says it “remains confident” that all recalled lettuce is off the market. Yet, the fact that thousands became sick from a product as inconspicuous as iceberg lettuce presents itself as only the tip of an iceberg — I could have not let this opportunity pass me by.

Cyclospora outbreaks are not new, but they are usually small. The first-ever outbreak documented in the U.S. dates back to 1995 when 45 cases were identified in Florida, and raspberries grown in Guatemala were pinpointed as ground zero.  

Between 2011 and 2015, the CDC investigated 10 outbreaks with a median of 21 cases per outbreak. Half were linked to contaminated cilantro, berry salads or prepackaged mixes imported from Mexico. Last year, the U.S. saw 1,180 cases — already a high number by historical standards. For contrast, since May 2026, there have been a staggering 19,883 confirmed cases. 

So, what changed? Why did a parasite typically associated with tropical climates and nonthreatening occurrences suddenly sweep across the country?

Part of the answer lies in our food system. The FDA is responsible for regulating about 80% of the nation’s food supply, yet the agency has faced radical managerial constraint ever since the Trump administration assumed office. Significant staff cuts and blitzing underfunding incited a domino effect that overwhelmed response time and inspection capacity, especially for imported produce. Meanwhile, large processors operate at a massive scale, distributing products to chains like Taco Bell.

Another factor is our own eating habits. The U.S. has more than 210,000 fast food restaurants that serve millions of customers daily. Convenience often outweighs caution — going back to Taco Bell. This Mexican-inspired fast food chain became an early site linked to the Cyclospora outbreak and, after striking revenue loss, had quickly moved to pull the affected product and switch suppliers. Yet, what’s striking is how almost unseemingly its business regained fiscal traction soon after.

We rarely read ingredient labels, and even when we do, many of us don’t understand what we’re reading. We have to complacently trust that what’s on the shelf is safe.

Fast food chains leave a gargantuan environmental footprint through the sheer scale of their meat demand, energy use and waste generation. Let’s take the world’s most profitable fast food chain for instance: McDonald’s.

McDonald’s alone feeds nearly 90% of the U.S. population annually and serves 26 million Americans each day, requiring 714 million pounds of beef and nearly 2 billion  — allegedly — 100% cage‑free eggs. Let’s assume a typical steer weighs about 1,400 pounds, but only 540 pounds becomes usable beef — just 38.5% of the animal’s weight. Using that yield, producing 714 million pounds of beef requires roughly 1.32 million cattle slaughtered. Meat production is also carbon‑intensive: generating 3.5 ounces of protein releases about 110 pounds of greenhouse gases annually.

Not to mention the unconscionable aspect of factory farms and the cruel conditions these animals are kept in. While there is unfortunately no regularly updated data source that tracks farming conditions, the Sentience Institute, an interdisciplinary think tank, estimates that 99% of livestock in the U.S. were factory-farmed in 2022. 

That figure accounts for just over 10 billion animals — more than the global human population.

Agricultural expansion, another environmental burden, is driven heavily by beef and feed production and causes almost 90% of global deforestation, threatening biodiversity, soils and water systems. In South America, nearly three‑quarters of forest loss stems from livestock grazing, while in Africa and Asia, over 75% of cleared forest becomes cropland. Here in the United States, 29% of land is grassland pasture and 17% is cropland, illustrating how much territory is devoted to food production.

The U.S. has 1.865 million farms, and that number is steadily shrinking. Even though 95% of all farms are family farms, many are struggling: nearly half make under $10,000 a year, and the smallest operations are disappearing fastest. From 2017 to 2024, the U.S. lost 8% of its farms, including about 160,000 family‑run operations.

Fast food chains also generate massive waste streams. In 2025, the industry produced 136 billion pounds of plastic of which 86% was wasted in landfills.

The cyclospora outbreak forces us to ask ourselves, “What will it take for us to realize that we are omnivores?” Perchance today’s “forbidden fruit” is not temptation itself, but complacency to convenience and cost: the belief that food arrives clean, safe and untainted simply because it is available for purchase. After all, let us not forget: paradise was lost with one bite.

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