B (5:40)

Hey basketball fans. Steve Nash here ready to elevate your basketball IQ? I'm teaming up with LeBron James to bring you the latest season of Mind the Game. And we're about to take you deeper into basketball than you've ever gone before. We're breaking down the real game, the X's and O's that actually matter in every episode. We'll share elite level strategy. Dive into career defining moments and explain the why behind plays that changed a game, a team or a championship. LeBron and I have lived this game at the highest level for decades. We've been in those pressure moments and made those game changing decisions and learned from the greatest basketball minds in history. Now we're pulling back the curtain and sharing that knowledge with you. Time to go beyond the highlights and get into the real heart of basketball. Watch Mind the game now on YouTube prime video or listen wherever you get your podcasts.

A (6:33)

From. Wondery I'm David Brown and this is Business Wars. In grocery stores these days, there are all kinds of products that promise to be both good for you and good for the planet. Restaurants are in on this trend too. Many chefs at fancy eateries have pulled back on meat and fish out of environmental concerns. In their place, they've made vegetable entrees the star of the show. Meanwhile, chain restaurants have amped up their vegetarian and vegan offerings too. At some of those restaurants today, diners can order plant based meats like chicken and pepperoni and burgers. Those same kinds of meats are now in supermarkets around the world, but go back in time by just a decade and those options wouldn't have existed. Plant based meat that looks, chews and tastes like real meat only became widely available starting in 2013 when California based Beyond Meat debuted its Beyond Chicken strips. Three years later, the Beyond Burger debuted. It was joined that year by the Impossible Burger from another California company, Impossible Foods. Plant based meat sales then skyrocketed, reaching nearly $1 billion in sales in 2019 and doubling that amount in 2023. The two California companies that pioneered the industry are led by two men who have much in common and yet couldn't be more different. Both share the same last name, Raul. Both spent their early years in Washington, D.C. both were meat eaters when they were young, but became vegans because they abhorred the slaughter of animals. But Beyond Meat's founder is a tall jock who played college basketball, while Impossible Foods founder is a skinny college professor. The companies have sold their fake meat by offering a real promise that buying it could change the world. Both companies say their products require fewer environmental resources than animal agriculture, and both suggest that replacing meat with their burgers and sausages will make the world a cleaner, better place. The beef industry has pushed back on those claims through a testy lobbying battle, but the bigger problem for these pioneering firms is that their costs and prices have spiraled up. That's threatening to bring their entire fortunes crashing down. In our new four part series, we'll uncover the secret recipes that led to the rise of the two dominant plant based meat makers and reveal how their fight for the planet became a fight with each other. This is episode one Pressure Cooker. It's June 2008 at a restaurant in Vancouver, Canada. Four executives from a Canadian fuel cell manufacturer take seats at the bar. A bank of big screen TVs above them is playing game two of the NBA Finals between the Boston Celtics and the Los Angeles Lakers. 36:28 Celtics with an eight point advantage. Nearly five minutes gone by here in the second, Brian again handed his One of the executives takes special note of the game. He's Ethan Brown, a 6 foot 5 inch 37 year old American who fondly recalls his days as a college basketball player at Connecticut College. Hey Ethan, you think he could take Kobe Bryant one on one?

C (10:27)

Kobe's only an inch taller than me, so yeah, on my best day I could have kept pace with him, but he'd probably beat me with his fadeaway jumper.

A (10:36)

The executives order a round of beers. They've just closed a deal to provide their company's environmentally friendly fuel cells to an electric bus manufacturer. That's what led Ethan to take this job. Since he was a student, he's wanted to combat climate change. When the drinks arrive, Ethan stands, towering over his colleagues. He holds a glass aloft.

C (10:57)

Here's to us saving the world one electric bus at a time.

A (11:02)

Ethan sits back down and his colleagues place their orders. I'll take the ribeye, medium rare. Yeah, same here. I'll take the ribeye too, but make mine rare. I like it bloody. Ethan goes in a different direction.

C (11:15)

I'll have the vegetarian meatloaf, please.

A (11:17)

The vegetarian meatloaf? Ethan? That sounds gross. Ethan gets this kind of ribbing about his vegan eating habits a lot, and he's growing tired of it. He runs one hand through his reddish brown hair and fires back at his colleagues.

C (11:32)

Look, I used to love meat when I was a kid. I took my first date to McDonald's. But I also spent a lot of time on my dad's farm in Maryland. And once I learned the environmental costs of raising animals for meat, plus the violence involved in slaughtering, I just couldn't eat them anymore. And honestly, maybe you guys shouldn't eat them either.

A (11:51)

Ethan, if you want to take my steak away from me, you're going to need to pry it out of my cold dead hands. Ethan can feel his temper rising.

C (12:01)

I don't get you guys. Our fuel cell business creates clean energy Sources to help the climate. And whenever we go out, you eat all this meat. But the worst thing for the planet isn't cars, it's livestock.

A (12:13)

Well, what are you gonna do, Ethan? Quit and go open a tofu factory? In the days to come, Ethan's colleague's indifference gnaws at him. He rethinks his entire professional future with and eventually decides that a business making meat alternatives could be both profitable and have a huge impact on the climate. Problem is, he has no idea how to make fake meat. So he begins a hunt to find someone who can help him cook up a change. It's summer 2008 in Northern California. Two top scientists sit down for lunch at a cafe. One of the scientists is 54 year old Pat Brown, a medical doctor turned biochemist whose genome breakthroughs earned him membership in the elite National Academy of Sciences. He's recently begun a long sabbatical where he hopes to find a way to change the world. Across the table From Pat is 41 year old Michael Eisen, a computational biologist from the University of California, Berkeley, who's one of Pat's good friends. A server arrives to take their order. Can I get the brown rice bowl with the broccoli, corn and spinach and sweet chili sauce? Eisen tops his rice bowl with tofu, cucumbers and fried garlic. As they wait, the men discuss Pat's future. So, Pat, you wanted to talk about your sabbatical. I'm betting you're planning on studying something big while you're away. After all, you're the guy who invented the DNA microarray and figured out how retroviruses like AIDS, integrate their genes into the genome of cells they infect. Nothing big. Pat nerdily pushes his oval rimmed glasses up on his face with one finger. Well, I want to do something even bigger now. As their rice bowls arrive, Pat scoots himself closer to the table. He's thin and wiry, thanks to a vegan diet and marathon training. Picking up his fork, Pat queries his colleague as if he were a student. Let me ask you this, Michael. What's the biggest problem? We could work on climate change, Pat. I mean, duh, that's obvious, okay, but what's the biggest thing we could do to affect climate change? I guess if we got rid of fossil fuel burning cars and swapped them with electric vehicles. Nope, not big enough. You know, I haven't eaten a hamburger since 1976. I really believe that animal agriculture is our biggest problem. If we want to solve climate change, we have to do one thing get rid of all the cows. All the cows, yes. All cows are a big source of methane and nitrous oxide, greenhouse gases that are more potent than carbon dioxide. Cows also outweigh every other wild vertebrate on land by more than a factor of 10. I mean, if we get rid of these frigging cows, nature can recover. Come on. But how are you going to accomplish that? Patience. Brown stabs at a piece of broccoli and ponders his answer. After decades of successfully tackling some of the toughest problems in science, he's not used to being stumped. I honestly don't know how. Not yet anyway. But I've got the next 18 months to figure it out. Just weeks later, Pat's sabbatical is underway. He begins his big mission of change in a very small way, by digging up little plants from the dirt that's just outside of his office. Pat has a long way to go if he wants to save the world. And across the country, another vegan, also named Brown, is about to get a head start on the same mission. It's fall 2009. Columbia, Missouri. Inside a research lab at the University of Missouri, Ethan Brown looks over the control panel of a refrigerator sized food extrusion machine. For the past year he spent much of his time searching for someone who can answer a big question. Can you build a piece of meat from plants? And he thinks he might have found that someone in work being done by two Mizzou professors, Hung Sheh and Harold Huff. Huff presses a button and the machine turns on. Ethan Follow me over to the mixing bowl. Six foot five, Brown squeezes himself between a two foot wide canister of liquid nitrogen and a wall filled with pipes and gauges of various sizes. He meets the balding, mustachioed 58 year old Huff at the other side of the machine.

C (16:46)

This thing looks like a giant KitchenAid stand mixer.

A (16:49)

Professor well, it is similar, but bigger. This is technically called a twin screw food extruder. It has a mixing bowl and then this metal box. It acts just like a pressure cooker. You know, Kellogg's uses this same kind of machine to make Fruit Loops, but in my lab we use it to make chicken out of dried soybeans. Huff smiles as he slides on a pair of white rubber gloves. He hands another pair to Ethan. This lab's director, Fu Hung Shea and I worked for more than a decade to finally get this process to work. Here, let me show you. Huff rolls up the sleeves on the white lab coat and grabs a large white bucket with both of his hands. The bucket is filled to the brim with an unappetizing gray substance that looks like concrete mix. Huff pours it into the extruder's mixing bowl, then dumps a big bucket of water in. He leads Ethan back to the extruder's control panel. Hit that green button, Ethan, that turns on the mixer. The soybeans, seasoning and water combine in the mixer. The machine then forces everything through a long metal box inside the soybeans mix into a firm long patty that slowly slides out of a small gap at the front of the extruder. Huff rips small pieces off and lays them on a sheet tray. Now this is plant based chicken. It's cholesterol friendly. Ethan picks up a strip and studies it carefully.

C (18:11)

It actually looks a little like chicken, professor, but it's a little too gray.

A (18:16)

Ethan pops the strip into his mouth, chews for a while and swallows. Then a huge grin spreads across his bearded face.

C (18:26)

It really tastes like chicken. It even chews like chicken. Professor I want to license this technology from you right now. If we can use it to make plant based chicken, then we can use it to make a plant based burger too.

A (18:39)

Having found the tech he was looking for, Ethan quits his fuel cell job and signs a licensing deal with Huff, Shea and the university. He's ready to bet everything he owns that the future of plant based meats will be a profitable one. But that bet will nearly cost him everything. It's November 2010 in Washington, D.C. inside a drab, gray walled hotel conference room, dozens of academics and policymakers are watching a speaker give a slideshow presentation about livestock. Well, the next slide shows hundreds of cows in a feeding barn. Now, globally, agriculture accounts for a significant amount of methane emissions. In the back of the room, Stanford Professor Pat Brown stands by himself. His arms are folded across his chest and he's scowling. Pat has organized this conference. He's invited some of the country's top minds, asking them to bring proposals for blunting animal agriculture's impact on the climate. But Pat doesn't like what he's hearing. Now, my proposal to slash methane emissions from livestock is to create a new paradigm for manure management. If we can store manure better, we can make a real impact on the climate. Brown rolls his eyes. He mumbles under his breath. Bull Manure management isn't enough. We need to do a whole lot more. Brown walks briskly to the exit, then through the lobby and out the front door. As tourists and taxis pass by, Pat paces. Moments later, he's joined by his friend And Stanford colleague Michael Eisen. Hey, what's up, Pat? I saw you storm out. Michael, I put this event together because I wanted to find new, innovative ways to enact change. But all we're hearing are the same old typical misguided academic approaches to this problem. But, Pat, come on. This is an A list gathering. What were you expecting? I think these are the best ideas in all of academia. And that proves we can't solve this from our ivory towers. But I think I might have another way to go about it. You know, the capitalist way. Pat reaches into the pocket of the navy blazer he's wearing and pulls out a folded piece of paper. He unfolds it and hands it to Eisen. You know, the only way to beat Big Beef is to give people something better to buy. And I think I might have found a way to make something better. Something I could build a business around. That paper shows a sketch of a dissected soy plant. You see these little roots? Yeah. Well, during my sabbatical, I had this hunch there might be a component in root nodules similar to what's found in meat. So I've been digging up little plants around my office and slicing their roots open. In all of them, I found a compound called leghemoglobin, or just heme. It's the same thing you find in animal tissue, except in animals it's called myoglobin. It gives me its red color, and I think it's the thing that makes beef so delicious. So how do you build a business out of that? Well, I want to use heme to make beef substitutes. Something made from plants that taste identical to beef. That way, meat eaters will buy it and they won't have to give up eating burgers. And because plant based meats will require fewer resources than cows require, I'll have a big cost advantage. I mean, hell, I'll pull the economic rug right out from under Big Beef. It'll be a form of legal economic sabotage. Eisen hands the paper back to Pat. Where are you gonna get the money for this plant burger business? It'll be easy. I work in Silicon Valley. You can't walk down the street there without tripping over a venture capitalist. The next day, Pat heads back to California and starts drafting his pitch to venture capital firms. If he gets the money, he'll still have one big problem. This Stanford genius has no clue how to run a business. It's just after sunset in late 2010 at the Columbia Regional Airport in Missouri. A private jet touches down on the Runway Moments later, the plane arrives at the airport's private air terminal. Its owner, 64 year old venture capitalist Ray Lane, walks down the air stairs. There he's greeted by the man who invited him here for a critical taste test. 40 year old Ethan Brown. The pair hop into Ethan's car and begin a short drive to the University of Missouri's lab of Harold Huff and Fu Hung Shea. Inside, Ethan leads the gray haired Lane to the lab's food extruder.

C (23:34)

Ray, I've been working with this machine for the past two years trying to make plant based chicken that's tastes and chews like the real thing. I hope you'll find the results worth your investment.

A (23:44)

Well, plant based meat is a far out idea, Ethan, but I'm hearing you out today because my firm has invested in a lot of far out ideas. Including backing Twitter back when it was just a startup. Ethan smiles and slides on a pair of rubber gloves.

C (23:59)

I think I've got something in common with Twitter actually. Twitter disrupted old modes of communication. I want to disrupt the oldest food technology there is, the animal, by replacing it with plants. Now, are you ready to taste some chicken strips?

A (24:15)

Yeah. Let's go. Ethan turns on the extruder and notices that his hands are shaking. Everything is on the line for him to fund his research. Over the past two years, Ethan has sold his home, cashed out his 401k and drained the college savings accounts he'd set aside for his two children. He desperately needs investor help. Ethan tries to calm himself as he pulls white strips of meaty material out of the extruder and offers him to Lane.

C (24:43)

Let me get you a fork.

A (24:45)

Nah, I don't need one. I want to find out if this chicken is finger licking good. Lane's eyes widen with each bite. This is good. It really does taste just like chicken. But a few minutes later, Lane finds himself still chewing. Hey Ethan, do you have any toothpicks? This chicken is sticking to my teeth. Ethan feels like he's been punched in the gut. He tries to salvage his pitch.

C (25:13)

Ray, I'll admit it, we've got a way to go. But I really need your money to perfect the taste and texture.

A (25:20)

Lane shrugs his shoulders. I don't know, let me think it up. Over on the flight back to California, Lane calls Twitter's co founder, 37 year old biz Stone. Hey Biz, I need your help vetting an unusual startup. It's from a guy who's a vegetarian, just like you. I'll email you this guy's business plan. He calls it A Prius for the plate. A couple of hours later, as Lane's plane begins its descent into San Jose International Airport, his phone rings. It's Biz Stone Ray. My first thought when I started checking this Ethan Brown guy out was, oh boy, here's some hippie who's gonna preach that eating animals is mean stuff. But his plan, as I see it, is super practical. He's gonna use big science to make these plant meats scalable. You know, I think he can work. Months later, Kleiner Perkins sends Ethan a check for $2 million. Ethan has his seed funding and gives his new company a name beyond meat. But what he doesn't know is that just down the street from Kleiner Perkins, another VC firm is about to create a powerful competitor by handing a three million dollar check to Pat Brown. It's November 2012 in rural Minnesota, a year after securing seed money and founding a business he calls Impossible Foods. Pat Brown and a team of scientists are in the middle of a soybean field trying to get a truck to start a street sweeping truck. A confused farm worker walks up to Pat. Hey, why'd you bring that contraption to a farm? We're turning it into a harvester. We're going to throw a bunch of soy plant stems in there and hope the street sweeper's bristles can knock the root nodules off the plants so we can collect the nodules. Brown reaches down and grabs a stray stem from off the ground. It's thin and woody, resembling a grapevine. He points to the tiny root nodules. These nodules contain an ingredient we think is the key to making a plant based burger taste just like a regular burger. It's called heme. The farm worker is still confused. He pulls off his ball cap and scratches his head. Never heard of heme. Why don't you just use regular farm equipment? Pat uses the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe sweat from his forehead. He's not sure if he wants to admit that he rented this street sweeper out of desperation. He and his team have tried almost a dozen different machines to efficiently harvest soy root nodules. Every one of them has failed. Finally, Pat fesses up. Well, if heme is the key ingredient that we think it's going to be, then we gotta figure out an easy way to efficiently harvest tens of millions of these root nodules. So we use the heme inside to make millions or even billions of plant based burgers. We haven't had any luck so far, so we're just experimenting with this sweeper. No hey, it's working. Pat and his team start loading piles of soybean stems into the sweeper's bristles. They run to the back of the machine to see the results. Most of the nodules remain attached to their stems. Damn it. We failed again. A farm worker puts a hand on Pat's shoulder. Fella, I don't think farming is for you. Maybe you ought to go back to your science lab or something. Pat takes the advice to heart. Returning by plane to Impossible Foods offices in California, he scribbled some numbers in a notebook. He realizes that he's burning through his seed money and getting nowhere. He doesn't even have an edible prototype plant based burger. Then an idea hits him. If he can't harvest enough heme in the fields, then maybe he should follow the advice of that farm worker and go back to what he knows best and grow it in the lab. It's early 2013 in Redwood City, California. Inside the Impossible Foods lab, Pat Brown is joined by his wife and fellow geneticist, Sue Clapholz. Until Impossible Foods came along, Klapholz was happily retired. Pat had to convince her to leave behind her jewelry making and nature photography hobbies to join him in the lab. At the moment, sue is sticking her nose inside a device called a gas chromatograph mass spectrometer. The machine is analyzing a handful of molecules that make up Impossible Foods latest burger prototype. And Klapholz is sniffing like a bunny, trying to see what each individual molecule smells like. Sue, sorry to interrupt. How's the test going? Well, this batch smells a lot better. We seem to have eliminated the diaper pail scent. Well, that's progress. Pat pulls up a nearby chair and sits in it backwards. You know, I think I might have a new idea for harvesting heme. Oh, well, give me the Cliff Notes version. I've got to get back to the sniff tests. Well, basically, I think we can take DNA from soy plants and insert it into a strain of genetically engineered yeast. And when the yeast ferments, it'll produce soy based heme. If that's right, we can scale that technology up indefinitely without me spending time out on the farm. Well, good. You belong in a lab coat, Pat, not in coveralls. Weeks later, Pat Brown's experiments are yielding the exact results he'd hoped for. His genetically modified yeast is producing plenty of heme. That's given Impossible Foods the breakthrough flavor component it needs to start building its own burger. But as the weeks go on, the right recipe will prove elusive. And meanwhile, Beyond Meat is about to get a rave review from one of the world's richest men. It's March 2013, Menlo Park, California. An assistant knocks on the door of a borrowed office inside Kleiner Perkins headquarters, where Microsoft Co founder Bill Gates has spent the morning here answering emails. Mr. Gates, Ethan Brown is here with your lunch. Okay, send him in. Ethan Brown walks through the office door carrying a plastic tray. On it are two tortillas wrapped around lettuce, tomato, mayo and chicken. Except one is not real chicken. It's Beyond Meat's chicken strips.

C (32:20)

Thanks for seeing me, Mr. Gates. I'm excited for this taste test.

A (32:24)

Great. Set that down here on the desk. Gates clears some space on the desk, pushing aside a pencil cube. So the folks here at Kleiner Perkins told me that if I tasted your product, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from investing.

C (32:37)

I hope they're right, sir.

A (32:39)

Ethan points to the two chicken wraps. One has a red tortilla, the other is wrapped in green.

C (32:45)

Go ahead and try both. See if you can tell me which one is the real chicken and which is plant based.

A (32:50)

Well, I don't think I can be easily fooled, so let's go. Gates takes a big bite of the first wrap. Then he tastes the other. He confidently points to the green tortilla. That's the real chicken, no doubt about it.

C (33:04)

No sir, that's.

A (33:06)

Ethan moves both wraps off the tray and turns it over. On the back he's written Beyond Meat chicken strips, green tortilla, real chicken, red tortilla. Gates jaw drops.

C (33:19)

Mr. Gates, what you've just tasted is a product that we've launched in a handful of Whole Foods stores in California. If our tests go well, Whole Foods will sell our plant based chicken nationwide. And we think chicken is just the start. Our bigger goal is to build meat, especially burgers, from plants.

A (33:36)

But now, Ethan, my favorite meal is burger and fries. But I've cut back on eating those because I care about the climate and I know beef is responsible for a lot of those greenhouse gases.

C (33:47)

Well, our burgers will be better for the planet. Just think about what meat is. It's five things. It's amino acids, its lipids, its trace minerals, its vitamins, and its water. An animal organizes all those things into the form of muscle. We want to put the same things into plant based meats. Skipping the animal and saving the planet.

A (34:07)

Well, if you can do that, then what I've tasted today isn't just some clever meat substitute. This is the future of food. I'm happy to pay to be a part of that. Future. After the meeting, Gates publishes a blog post about Beyond Meat's chicken. Months after that, it becomes public that he's written a check to buy a stake in Beyond Meat. He doesn't declare how much he's bought, but Gates investment spurs interest in a new funding round for Beyond Meat. So too does Home Whole Foods decision to Roll out Beyond Chicken strips nationwide soon. Consumers are crowing about plant based chicken, but Ethan's appetite is far from satisfied. He's ready to fulfill his craving for a juicy plant based burger. It's 2014 just outside of Los Angeles, California. Ethan Brown tosses several bags of In N Out burgers onto a conference room table. He looks around at half a dozen Beyond Meat employees and barks out an order.

C (35:18)

Let's eat everyone.

A (35:21)

A blond haired biotech engineer named Tim Geitschlinger looks ill as he picks up his burger. Geitzlinger, like Ethan, is a vegetarian. He's also an amateur athlete who competes in tough mud or obstacle courses and rides his bike on the nearby beach almost every night. Geitzlinger was hired away from the Gates foundation to join Beyond Meat after Bill Gates invested in the company. He is tasked with developing a plant based burger. Geitzlinger winces as he bites into the In N Out burger. He hates that he's eating an animal. Worse, he hates how good it tastes. This is juicy and it has a great chew. Our prototype plant based burgers aren't even close to this. Ethan, who is vegan, chews his In N Out burger, then spits it out. He looks at Geitzlinger sternly.

C (36:12)

What are we missing?

A (36:13)

Tim Gotchlinger shrugs. I really don't know. Our burgers are made with yellow pea protein and those get powdery when we grind it down form the patties. I suppose we could add fat to make it juicier. Ethan crumples his In N Out burger into a ball. The former college basketball player tosses it into a trash can on the other side of the room.

C (36:36)

Swish.

A (36:37)

He looks back at Geislinger.

C (36:39)

More fat won't make our burgers chewier. Tim, you better go back to the drawing board.

A (36:46)

Weeks later, an exhausted Geitzlinger is in Beyond Meat's kitchen lab with the company's head chef, Dan Dave Anderson. On the lab's counters, beakers are filled with strawberries, blueberries, beet juice and fava beans. A plant based patty that resembles a hamburger is cooking on a flat top griddle. Anderson uses a fork to cut into it. It takes a bite and throws the fork onto the ground. This sucks, Geislinger picks the fork up off the ground and tosses it into a nearby sink. You know, I think the problem is that meat protein fibers are long, which gives beef its chew. But yellow pea protein fibers are short, which makes our burgers fall apart in the mouth. Let's try cooking the burger patty under a different kind of pressure. Maybe. Maybe that'll turn short fibers into long ones. Anderson rubs his gray blonde goatee. I dunno, Tim. We'll lose all the juices by cooking with the pressure. At this point, what do we have to lose? After a couple of failed tries to get the heat pressure and chemical mix just right, they slap a new patty down the grill and put a heavy press on top of it. Anderson lets the burger cook for a while and then flips it over to sear the other side. Finally, he slides it off the grill and onto a bun. You go first, Tim Kaitzlinger takes a bite. His eyes widen as he chews. He talks with his mouth still full. Holy hell. This is it. This is it. We did it. The two men rush their new creation to Ethan Brown, who tells them to call up buyers at Whole Foods for a taste test. Those buyers are impressed. And now, after four years of fundraising and hard science, Beyond Meat is finally ready to put the first of its kind, plant based burger into stores. They call it the Beast Burger because in their lab, they're about to make a breakthrough. They're making a plant based burger that bleeds. On the next episode, High end chefs clamor to serve the impossible burger at white tablecloth restaurants while Beyond Meat prepares for a blockbuster ipo. But as plant based meat begins a meteoric rise, the beef industry prepares to fight back. From Wondery. This is episode one of Beyond Meat versus Impossible Burger for Business Wars. A quick note about recreations you've been hearing. In most cases, we can't know exactly what was said. Those scenes are dramatizations, but they're based on historical research. For more information, check out stories on these companies by Tad Friend in the New Yorker. Can a burger help solve climate change? And Rowan Jacobson in Outside magazine. This top secret food will change the way you eat. I'm your host, David Brown. Joseph Guento wrote this story. Sound design by Josh Morales. Kyle Randall is our lead sound designer. Fact checking by Gabrielle Drolet. Voice acting by Kieran Regan and Carrie Cabanaugh. Our managing editor is Desi Blaylock. Our senior producers are Jenny Bloom and Emily Frost. Karen Lowe's our producer emeritus. Our executive producers are Jenny Lauer Beckman and Marshall Louie for wondering.