You are what you eat-- and who you eat with

Hello you artistic endeavour.

Since many of us are enjoying the bounty of late-summer produce, I thought that this week we would wend our way through a topic that touches all of our lives everyday: food. Or more specifically, how our relationship to food culture has changed since the world imploded.

To be clear, this is not a topic requiring urgent attention. There are so many much more important issues in the world right now (including the Beirut explosion this week and how to help), and more pressing issues related to the topic of food generally (including food insecurity due to the pandemic). I also know that my (former) ability to eat out and experiment with food was a big privilege. So take this dispatch as a light exploration of a much more complex context.

So with all that has been shifting, transforming and evolving these past few months, as a long-time cooking enthusiast, I have been curious about the collective shifts happening with our relationship to food and eating.  Because whether we like it or not, it looks like foodie culture as we know it is probably over.

As with all things pandemic-related, this has pros and cons. Like many people, so much of my social life before the pandemic revolved around restaurants and cooking: catching up over dinner, gathering with friends for a potluck brunch, enjoying a cafe catch up over coffee (not to mention our ridiculous experimental gourmet club). This connection between food and community is not a new thing: people have been studying the social functions of food for centuries.  But personally, I had not really reflected on or understood the depth of connection between my social interactions and the food industry until I (and everyone else) had that option taken away. For example, I notice the difference in my pocket book for sure (it is a common refrain, but wow those coffee dates and lunch meetings add up!), and also as I sometimes feel nostalgic and grasp at fleeting bits of normalcy, I have tried to recreate group dinners on zoom. 

All of that said however, as much as I used to dine out as an integral part of my social life, since March I have not once ordered a delivery or take-out meal for myself. Because as I have so plainly been shown in these past few months, it was never really about the food. 

Don't get me wrong. There is definitely still joy in preparing and sharing good food with others, and I do genuinely miss being with others in that way. Especially when it comes to our little gourmet club, but also just generally-- there is something that feels so reciprocally nourishing about being able to delight others with something you have created to nourish them.

But since we can no longer break bread together (though we can bake bread ourselves-- this is my favourite overnight bread recipe from the pandemic) and I am not relying on restaurants and food culture for my much-reduced social life, I have been interested to take advantage of the break to look at how I want to engage with the foodie space moving forward.

Because if it was never about the food, then it always was-- and is-- about the people: those with whom I share a culinary experience, and those who provide the products, creativity, inspiration and insight into the vast world of cooking and food culture. 

When we mistake foodie culture for the food itself forget about the people who make it happen and the social purpose of sharing food, things can get problematic for everyone. For example, there has been a lot of mythology surrounding the toxic, lone-wolf genius (male) chefs and tolerance of their abusive behaviour. But before people think it is just the Gordon Ramsay's of the world, every community (including Ottawa) has examples of people and organizations who deliver delicious food but have forsaken basic human decency.

In addition, while we have been talking about the rampant sexism in the food industry for a little while now, the Black Lives Matter movement has also shone a light on structural racism in the industry, with some big players like Bon Appetit being confronted about their racist practices (and not responding well to the criticism). The whole issue of gentrification has also been around for many years, but some of the more egregious offenders (like Sqirl) are finally being taken to task. And the rampant cultural appropriation of different cuisines is actively being called out in some really simple but important ways.

At the same time, there are some interesting moves towards this more human-centered approach. Local farmers and food producers are banding together and seeing a big increase in business as people start paying attention to where their food is coming from, and wanting to support producers in their community. There are also some big moves into more plant-based food trends as the pandemic sparks a major decline in meat-eating, as people think more about the environmental costs of their food choices.

While I will probably continue to keep up with the latest foodie trends-- secretly longing for a jar of yuzu concentrate or experimenting with pulled mushroom tacos-- I am clearer now about why I love cooking (as a way to share with and care for others) and how I want to engage with and support the food industry moving forward (in a human-forward, accountable and community-centered way). 

[Insert chef kiss here] 

But wait! Perhaps all of this talk of foodie culture is feeling a bit too intense on a sunny Sunday morning?  Well then check out this article about how grinding pepper tableside was considered the height of fashion... until it wasn't.

Still too much realness?  Then please enjoy this anime-inspired take on cooking an omelet. I enjoy enthusiastic multitasking as much as the next person, but this is a bit much even for me.

And as a bonus, I have shared it before, but I could not let a dispatch of cooking go by without sharing the warped, weird and wonderful video "Too many cooks" by Adult Swim. If you need a palate cleanser, here is a clip of the Swedish Chef making chocolate mousse.

From one foodie person to another, I am glad that we can (eventually) share a meal together. I hope you enjoyed this dispatch, and have a nourishment-filled week!

Until next Sunday,
The Earnest Platypus