Cultural Food Narratives

Food colonialism is all about how colonizers have not only taken land and resources from indigenous peoples but have also swooped in and claimed their culinary traditions as their own. This practice often involves taking traditional dishes and herbs, rebranding them, and erasing the original cultural stories behind them. Throughout history, colonizers have used food colonialism to assert their dominance. For example, during British rule in India, local spices and dishes were often modified or rebranded to suit British tastes, leading to a loss of authenticity and cultural heritage. Similarly, in the Americas, European settlers took indigenous crops like maize and potatoes, claiming them as their own discoveries while sidelining the agricultural knowledge of Native peoples. In Palestine, we see a similar pattern. Israelis have rebranded traditional Palestinian foods like Hummus, za'atar, labneh, and falafel as Israeli dishes. This appropriation not only strips these foods of their true cultural significance but also reinforces a narrative that diminishes Palestinian identity. A notable example is the book „How to Cook in Palestine“, published in 1930 by the Women's International Zionist Organization. This book presented Palestinian recipes within a framework that aligned them with Zionist ideals, complicating the relationship between food and national identity. The appropriation of cuisine is a powerful tool in the larger strategy of cultural erasure. By claiming traditional dishes as their own, colonizers diminish the cultural narratives of indigenous peoples, rewriting history to favor their version. This is especially clear in how Israeli cuisine is often showcased internationally, overshadowing the rich culinary heritage of Palestinian culture.

<Waste Nothing: The Spiritual Logic Behind Japanese Cuisine> “Myoga-ni-warui”: The Invisible Ethics Behind Japanese Food Culture In Japan, there is a traditional phrase, “myoga-ni-warui” (冥賀に悪い), which literally means “bad for divine protection.” The idea comes from Buddhism and Shinto, where unseen blessings or spiritual protection (myoga) are believed to surround everyday life. To waste food, or to treat it carelessly, was thought to diminish those blessings. Over time, this evolved into a moral principle: One must respect food, use it fully, and avoid waste, not only for practical reasons but also to remain in harmony with unseen forces. This ethic shaped many aspects of Japanese dining. A whole salmon might be used from head to tail, by fillets for grilling, bones for broth, skin for crispy snacks, and even organs for pickled dishes. Cattle, pigs, and chickens are not only valued for their prime cuts but also for their organs, which appear in beloved dishes such as yakitori liver skewers or hearty motsu nabe (offal hotpot). What might be discarded in other countries is transformed into flavorful specialties in Japan, guided by the belief that wasting food is both disrespectful and myoga-ni-warui. For many visitors, encountering these dishes can be surprising. In some Western cultures, organ meats are considered cheap or undesirable, yet in Japan they are celebrated and often shared with pride. Far from being strange, they express gratitude toward the animals, the land, and the unseen blessings that sustain life. Today, as global awareness of sustainable eating grows, the Japanese practice of using every part of an ingredient resonates more than ever. So the next time you enjoy Japanese cuisine, whether a simple rice ball or a plate of grilled hormone (beef or pork offal), remember that behind the flavor lies a cultural value: Nothing should be wasted, for to waste is “myoga-ni-warui.” For those living in Japan, here on business, or visiting as travelers, may you not become afraid of trying, but instead discover Japan through its food culture.

What makes Indian food look unhygienic—the hands, the setting, or the gaze? I’ve been observing a troubling pattern—not just in how Indian street food is portrayed globally, but in how many creators now stage exaggerated or “gross” videos for views. In chasing virality, we’ve begun feeding a gaze already conditioned to associate certain bodies and contexts with impurity. But here’s something worth sitting with: The same act—kneading dough, serving with bare hands, cooking outdoors—is often praised as “authentic” in Western settings, but dismissed as “unsanitary” or “disgusting” in South Asian ones. Why does one evoke artisanal charm and the other evoke shame? This isn’t about objective hygiene. It’s about how aesthetic and racial hierarchies, shaped over time through colonial histories and visual cultures, tell us whose food practices are respected—and whose are ridiculed. Brown hands are often read as unclean. White hands as trustworthy. This isn’t about biology. It’s about perception—quietly shaped by power, repetition, and narrative control. Of course, hygiene matters. But weaponizing hygiene as a tool to shame or stereotype a culture—especially when similar practices elsewhere are romanticized—reveals more about the viewer than the food itself. So the question remains: “When we call something unhygienic, what are we really responding to—the act, or the identity of the person performing it?” #StreetFoodNarratives #VisualPolitics #CulturalPerception #RacializedHygiene #DecolonizeTaste #SociologyOfFood

When most people think of cultural heritage, they imagine monuments, architecture, or traditional crafts. Yet culinary heritage - the foods, flavors, and practices handed down through generations - is just as vital to a community’s identity. The urgency to protect it is growing. According to UNESCO, more than 40% of the world’s documented intangible cultural heritage (ICH) elements are at risk, and food traditions are especially fragile. Recipes are often not written down. Farmers producing heritage crops struggle against globalized supply chains. Younger generations often leave rural areas, and with them, centuries of local food knowledge can vanish. Consider millet, once a staple grain in much of Africa and Asia. In the last 50 years, it was largely replaced by imported wheat and rice. Only recently, through UN and grassroots efforts, have communities begun to revive millet cultivation and cuisine. Without intervention, it could have disappeared entirely. Culinary heritage is not just about taste - it is about resilience. Diverse crops strengthen food security. Local food traditions foster pride and belonging. And in an era when people crave authenticity, they make communities more attractive to visitors. If a historic building is worth saving, so too is a historic cheese, bread, or stew. Once lost, neither can be authentically or easily rebuilt. Food culture deserves the same attention as any UNESCO site or museum collection. Because culinary heritage does more than tell a story of the past -it nourishes the present and inspires the future. In the coming weeks, we’ll share how we’re working to ensure these traditions endure globally.

“In many respects, I don’t envy you in the UK.” I couldn’t believe my ears. Was it really harder on any level to improve food in the UK than in Latin America? Surely one of the world's richest, most powerful countries was in a better position than those with higher rates of poverty, obesity & crime. But as the expert explained: in Latin America, the flood of unhealthy food has mainly increased snacks & sugary drinks. In the UK, we’ve allowed it to drench our main meals too. It made me reflect on our food culture. If our cultural references are to be believed, main character energy is living off supermarket meal deals, instant noodles & takeaways topped off with sugary drinks, confectionery & biscuits. We’re flooded with references normalising unhealthy food in the UK. So when our food culture is the butt of our jokes, does it contribute to our deprioritisation of it? Numerous Latin American experts cited the importance of their countries’ food traditions in standing up to powerful companies. Restricting unhealthy food isn't just about health. For them, it’s about choosing their way of life, respecting their history, land & people over multinational corporations’ profits. It's about continuing to enjoy their food culture. For many of us here, the stream of better food our grandparents' enjoyed has now been flooded by big food companies. But we must remember the UK’s food traditions. How can we fight back against the flood of unhealthy food if we’ve forgotten what we’re fighting for? In Chile, Colombia & Mexico, the reminders are everywhere. From the street fruit stalls, to the lively food markets, to the pride in preparing traditional meals. It often feels like our food culture is harder to pinpoint, with prices out of reach for many, but it doesn’t mean we don’t have one. Our rich cultural diversity & hunger for better food have given rise to contemporary traditions. From some of the world’s best restaurants, to agroecological farms & a wealth of creative responses to the climate crisis. We must recognise how normalising unhealthy food plays into vested interests. And it’s not an accurate representation of the UK’s food traditions which celebrate diversity & creativity. Latin American countries are honouring their history & respecting their food to defend their future. Because we must see it to believe it. It might just be critical to ensuring healthier food is the easiest option for everyone. Huge thanks to Churchill Fellowship for giving me the opportunity to learn from & share with experts in food policy. And to the experts in Latin America for so generously sharing their knowledge & time with me: it was a massive honour & inspiration to learn from you. Image: My favourite food-themed mural in Oaxaca, Mexico. A black & white painting of a woman on a yellow wall, surrounded by indigenous language texts & chillies. In her hand, she holds a key & on her forehead is the shape of a lock. #HFSS #FoodPolicy #PublicHealth

The rise of turmeric lattes, ginger shots and other so-called superfoods in the Western wellness industry often overlooks a key truth. These ingredients come from long-standing South Asian traditions that have shaped our diets for generations. 🧡 In my clinics I frequently meet South Asian women who feel uncertain about the value of their cultural foods because marketing strips these ingredients of their heritage. They are often repackaged and sold at premium prices without acknowledging the communities that used them first. I also meet many women from outside these cultures who are paying very high costs for wellness products that offer no additional benefit compared to the traditional, affordable forms used in South Asian households. From a medical perspective, there is emerging evidence for some of the benefits of spices such as turmeric and ginger, but these effects are linked to overall dietary patterns rather than isolated high-priced products. There is real value in culturally rooted nutrition. Traditional diets can hold both cultural meaning and scientific relevance 🌿 For those working in health, nutrition or wellness, this is an opportunity to recognise cultural origins, respect lived experience and offer advice that is both evidence based and inclusive. #WomensHealth #SouthAsianCommunities #HealthEquity #InclusiveHealthcare #NutritionScience #CulturalCompetency #DietAndHealth #PublicHealthUK #WellnessIndustry #CulturalNutrition #EvidenceBasedPractice #HealthCommunication #MedicalEducation

Back in 2024, I spent time in some Ghanaian homes, markets and roadside kitchens on a food research trip. After analyzing what I found, I realized many important elements are missing from food policy conversations I’d been reading. A recent collaboration between FAO and the Ghana Food Movement caught my attention. The goal of it is to strengthen Indigenous food systems. And they want to achieve this by connecting nutrition, biodiversity and sustainability in a way that treats local knowledge as infrastructure. This piqued my interest because during that trip, I observed things that could have been the foundation of many food policy narratives: 1. Indigenous food practices function at scale even if informally 2. They adapt to urban life while still maintaining cultural integrity 3. And they deliver nutrient adequacy by using ingredients that complement one another in a meal Essentially, these practices already do what some food policies are designed for. But they’re treated as gaps to modernize. I also found that these indigenous food systems are responsive to ecological and social constraints. Here are some examples: 👉 Most of the people I engaged in the study used steaming and fermentation in preparing food. These two food preparation techniques consistently align with higher nutrient retention and lower processing risk. But they were not intentionally “traditional preferences”. It’s just how the food has always been prepared. 👉 Most of the people chose ingredients based on seasonality, local ecology, cost and culture. 👉 And roadside kitchens specifically were like specialized extensions of the home kitchen. They preserve techniques that most urban households no longer have the time or skill to perform. That’s why this FAO - Ghana Food Movement is a meaningful reorientation. It's a much neede shift from just preserving Indigenous foods to learning from Indigenous food systems. And this contributes to building a resilient food system, one that has already been feeding people through drought, migration, urbanization. There’s no need to preserve it. The work needed now is to take it seriously as a model. That in itself would be preservation already. PS: Resources for you ________________ 💌 Know the why behind our food - the science, trends, practical insights, marketing, recipes & more in the FoodPulse Monthly Newsletter. Join here: https://lnkd.in/ekMwx-zz 👉More about my work here: https://ectsyawo.com ☘️Explore FoodPulse, my consumer food education space: https://foodpulse.co/ I’m Etornam. I research food systems and make food education accessible because both shape how people eat and how decisions get made.

Who would have thought that a plate of fried chicken and a pint of beer could influence the stock market? A few days ago, photos and videos of NVIDIA’s CEO Jensen Huang having beer and fried chicken (“chimaek”) at a local Seoul restaurant went viral. Within hours, shares of the restaurant chain surged, not because of new earnings data, but because of cultural contagion. As someone who has spent years working in advertising and studying how perception drives value, I found this moment fascinating. It perfectly illustrates how culture, finance, and psychology increasingly intersect in today’s markets. Here’s what this small yet significant event tells us: ➡️ The Narrative Economy at Play Robert Shiller’s Narrative Economics argues that stories, not statistics, often move markets. Jensen’s simple act became a story investors could emotionally buy into. The market priced in the narrative, not the numbers. ➡️ Signalling Theory in Action When a figure as influential as Huang partakes in a local ritual, it signals respect, relatability, and cultural fluency. That signal cascades into trust, not just for him, but for the ecosystem he engages with. ➡️ Brand Association and Cultural Capital Pierre Bourdieu’s concept of cultural capital explains why participation in shared cultural experiences enhances legitimacy. For the restaurant brand, this association created intangible value that translated directly into market performance. ➡️ Behavioural Finance Reminder Markets are not rational mechanisms, they are human systems driven by biases, heuristics, and emotions. The “halo effect” around Huang extended beyond Nvidia to anything he touched, even fried chicken. Having worked in both branding and marketing, I have seen how economic value today is increasingly built on cultural foundations. Whether it’s Apple’s design language, Nike’s activism, or Nvidia’s CEO enjoying chimaek, value creation now depends as much on cultural alignment as it does on financial performance. In a world where algorithms track data, humans still trade stories. And sometimes, a plate of chicken and a beer can do more for a brand’s valuation than a quarter’s earnings call. Picture Credits: Firstpost Palki Sharma #technology #business #finance #media

#UNESCO officially named Italian cuisine an Intangible Cultural Heritage. But this is about far more than food. Italy is the first country to have its entire gastronomic tradition honored: from pasta to wine, from family lunches to vineyard landscapes. While celebrated as a triumph, the move is a case study in how a plate of food can become a powerful political and cultural tool. This designation isn't just a culinary gold medal. It’s a ritual of recognition that: 1. Unifies a nation often divided by regional rivalries. 2. Distinguishes "Italian" identity on the global stage. 3. Legitimizes a specific cultural and political narrative. 4. Sanctifies everyday acts, like passing recipes, as sacred heritage. 5. Armors the priceless "Made in Italy" brand. Empires rise and fall. Revolutions come and go. But the Italian kitchen table remains one of the most potent stages for national identity. Read the full article: https://lnkd.in/eGgYifQY #ItalianCuisine #UNESCO #CulturalHeritage #FoodPolitics #NationalIdentity #Italy