Some people might think that the local-foods revolution and obsession with ethical eating are a local (or at least domestic) phenomenon, one spearheaded by American personalities such as the former director of New York’s Greenmarket, Nina Planck, author Michael Pollan, or restaurateur Alice Waters, and embraced by such big-name stores as Whole Foods Market.

Meet Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, the face of British local eating, or locavorism, as it’s currently known. Popular in Britain, Mr. Fearnley-Whittingstall began venturing across the pond last year with “The River Cottage Meat Book” (Ten Speed Press, 543 pages, $40), the first of his books adapted for an American audience. Part cookbook and part manifesto, “Meat” — which won the 2008 James Beard Cookbook of the Year award — lays out his food creed: Eat local, organic, and humanely raised, and don’t shirk on quality.

It’s an approach that will doubtless sound familiar to American gourmands concerned with carbon footprints, factory farms, and the Slow Food movement. But Mr. Fearnley-Whittingstall brings a decidedly British flavor to it all.

A onetime Londoner, Mr. Fearnley-Whittingstall has for the past decade spent most of his time in rural England, attempting to produce as much of his own food as possible, and filming the results. That exercise in simple living has spawned an empire of sorts, one that has grown to include numerous television series, several books, and a vast country estate that houses a restaurant, large farm, produce store, and catering and education center.

Now, with stateside versions of his “The River Cottage Cookbook” (Ten Speed Press, 447 pages, $35) and “The River Cottage Family Cookbook” (Ten Speed Press, 415 pages, $32.50) currently out, Mr. Fearnley-Whittingstall may be poised to colonize America. But it remains to be seen whether his earthy and decidedly unglamorous, British approach to food and cooking will gain a following among Americans who are, after all, accustomed to the photogenic celebs of the Food Network and the prissy elegance of Martha Stewart Living.

Indeed, Mr. Fearnley-Whittingstall, 43, might well be the anti-Martha. Overweight, bespectacled, and with unruly (if not greasy) long hair, this Brit is not afraid of messy things. In an episode of one of his programs I watched, he learns how to give his cows a gynecological exam and exclaims later that, in order to turn a newly acquired dairy barn into the restaurant of his dreams, he’ll first have to clear away “25 years of accumulated cow s—.”

Part of his eyes-wide-open approach to eating, “Meat” (which opens with a long philosophical treatise on the ethical merits of vegetarianism vs. omnivorism) contains shockingly explicit and none-too-pretty photos showing the blood and carnage inherent in even the most compassionate of slaughters. The other two books, while lighter on the gore, share a down-to-earth quality, with refreshingly unstaged food, unglamorous people, and nary a garnish or pretty place setting to be found.

I like all three of these informative and readable books, but “Family,” co-authored with Fizz Carr and released last month, was by far my favorite. While appropriate for a wide range of ages, its friendly language, wealth of food lore, and array of science experiment-like culinary “projects” will make it particularly appealing to pre-teenagers — boys and girls alike — who are eager for kitchen adventures.

Teachers may also find that the book lends itself well to classroom projects, as its focus is less on cooking techniques than on instilling children with an understanding of where food comes from. To that end, the book is organized by main ingredients (eggs, flour, fruit, etc.), with each chapter thoroughly explaining the history, uses, and provenance of the item before serving up recipes and projects.

The recipes are generally simple and child-friendly crowd-pleasers, such as pizza, pasta, and macaroni and cheese. And the projects — making your own salt, homemade butter, growing tomatoes in a pot — will thrill young chefs and scientists alike. Parents will appreciate the simplicity of these projects, which don’t require any special gadgets or expensive equipment.

The “River Cottage” books are far from perfect, however, with the recipes a bit too — well, British, for my taste: heavy, a bit bland, with too much emphasis on butter and cream (rather than on veggies or herbs) for flavoring. Even the curried chicken I sampled from a recipe in “Family (page 298)” , while tasty, didn’t seem Indian enough in its flavor, and because the recipe did not call for removing the skin, the dish was on the greasy side. Scallops with fennel risotto, in “The River Cottage Cookbook Book (page 248)” , was light — since it’s dairy-free, it’s actually lighter than most risottos — but the scallops needed more seasoning.

At times, I wished Mr. Fearnley-Whittingstall had put as much effort into explaining cooking techniques as he puts into advising readers how to shop for, or how to determine the moral provenance of, their food. The scallops recipe, for example, assures readers they can substitute fish stock for the scallop-trimmings broth he suggests — but then never explains how much to use, nor does he specify how long, or even approximately how long, to cook the risotto, saying only, “The final result should be smooth and creamy, with the rice still a little al dente.”

Other projects were similarly light on the details. The “Create Your Own Ice Cream Maker” recipe in “Family” says to let the ice-cream-in-process stand “somewhere cool,” yet never specifies whether this means basement cool, refrigerator cool, or freezer cool. And I was left uncertain what to do when, as I tried to mix the salt into the ice, the ice began melting and clumping together into one frozen block.

The pizza instructions were sketchy, calling for fresh white bread dough but not explaining how many risings, if any, were required before beginning the pizza-making instructions, nor clarifying whether it was okay to bake multiple racks of pizza at the same time.

But these are quibbles. The “River Cottage” collection still makes an excellent addition to the libraries of locavores and serious food lovers of all stripes (so long as they’re not vegetarian). And since the Ten Speed editions are printed in America, you don’t have to feel guilty about the “book miles” traveled.