The problem with the simplicity movement isn’t simply that you’ve got to be rich to live simply. In their 2007 book Plenty, Alisa Smith and James MacKinnon, who had vowed to spend a year sticking to the 100-mile locavore eating radius (and, as freelance writers, had plenty of time to put together meals that lived up to this promise), discovered that they were spending $11 per jar on honey to substitute for $2.59 sugar and that one of their locally foraged dinners cost them $130 and more than a day to prepare. Nor is it the problem that "simplicity" can amount to just plain silliness, as when simplicity blogger Leo Babauta announced that he had cut down on grooming products by shaving his head, and suggested that one way to cultivate simplicity was to give loved ones massages instead of birthday presents (ask first, Mr. Babauta!). Or when Steven Rinella, author of The Scavenger’s Guide to Haute Cuisine, invited his friends over for a meal of bear, squirrel, elk, and sparrows trapped in his girlfriend’s Brooklyn backyard. Rinella’s aim, both in writing the book and throwing the party, was, as the New York Times reported, "to demonstrate that most of us have depersonalized our relationship to food, and that current regulations requiring that any game commercially sold in America must be raised on farms or ranches is actually harmful to both the farmed animals and wild ones."