Food is a powerful connector, fostering relationships and creating bonds between individuals across various cultures and communities. It provides a window into the histories, traditions, and values of diverse societies. Exploring global cuisines allows us to appreciate the rich stories embedded in dishes, from preparation methods to the rituals surrounding consumption. These practices can also shed light on societal structures, including insights into gender roles and power dynamics, offering a deeper understanding of the world and its communities.
How have food and culinary arts played a role in shaping cultures?
Since ancient times, food has been a vital part of cultures across the globe, uniting people through its necessity and universality. To sustain our calorie-hungry brains, early humans mastered fire and cooking, transforming raw ingredients into flavorful, digestible meals. This cultural innovation of adding flavor, spices, and techniques not only improved survival outcomes through increased nutritional value, but also influenced human evolution, leading to smaller teeth, weaker chewing muscles, and shorter digestive tracts compared to our primate relatives. Food’s role in shaping humanity is highlighted in our very biology.
“There is more to eating than survival. Eating and drinking are a medium through which we gather, socialize, and create bonds. We celebrate, commemorate, tend to one another, and enact our rituals through food,” says Dr. Ara Norenzayan.
There are two perspectives to consider: If culture is seen as a defined entity (like “American culture” or “British culture”), food becomes a crucial aspect, embodying and passing down cultural values while reinforcing a group’s unique identity over time. In this context, food traditions often (but not always) serve as markers of distinct identities on a national level, with governments sometimes intervening to safeguard local food industries from foreign influence. This reflects the broader role of food in preserving and shaping a sense of cultural uniqueness. (If you haven’t heard of gastrodiplomacy or gastronativism, you should take a look at this article from Foreign Policy.)
If we view culture as part of social life—distinct from economic or political factors—food becomes a lens through which cultural values and practices are expressed. Ideas about what is “healthy” or “good” vary, and societies establish food rules dictating what and how much to eat, and when exceptions are allowed. There’s also a social divide between “low brow” and “high brow” foods, often linked to class hierarchies already present in societal structures. For instance, gourmet food establishments use cultural knowledge to elevate certain foods while marginalizing others. It would be surprising to most Americans to find a good corned beef hash on the menu of a 3-star Michelin steakhouse, despite salted meat and potatoes being the primary items available.
How does the language used to describe food reflect cultural attitudes and values?
A culture’s food vocabulary reflects its values and priorities. For example, an Italian child may be able to identify 22 types of pasta, while a Canadian child might know just a few words.
Beyond vocabulary, attitudes conveyed through language shape perceptions of food. Psychologist Paul Rozin observed that French participants associate fried eggs with “breakfast,” while Americans think “cholesterol,” highlighting culinary appreciation versus health concerns. Interestingly, despite American vigilance, French life expectancy remains higher, underscoring the broader cultural differences in how food is perceived and experienced.
While language significantly influences our relationship with food, sensory elements like sound and touch also play a vital role. In Japan, slurping ramen noodles is celebrated as an expression of appreciation for the dish’s flavors and textures.
This cultural nuance is captured in Itami Juzo’s film Tampopo (1985). In one scene, a group of women are being coached by an etiquette teacher on how to eat pasta quietly, while a nearby diner gleefully slurps his ramen noodles. His infectious enjoyment of the food soon inspires the women, including their teacher, to embrace his loud expression of approval for the meal.
Diners enjoying the ramen noodles in Tampopo (1985) by Itami Juzo.
In what ways does food serve as a medium for social and cultural exchange?
For many, food is a gateway to exploring and understanding the rich diversity of cultures within and across communities. Each community reflects its uniqueness through a variety of culinary practices. Even the same dish can be prepared in countless ways, revealing personal or cultural stories. For instance, my schnitzel differs greatly from my great-grandparents’ version because my recipe was shaped by my lifetime living in (and having access to ingredients from) the United States, not Bavaria, Germany. These lived experiences imbue my cooking with a unique flavor and history, reminding us of the narratives embedded in every meal.
Different dishes can be examples of the cultural exchange that was necessary to produce them, and it is fascinating to try to trace back their origins. Let’s think about ramen as an example. The ingredients that go into making ramen took centuries to reach Japan, either as foods associated with the spread of Buddhism or as the result of trade, colonialism, and imperialism. Then once something like wheat-based noodles reached Japan, they were innovated to change their thickness and texture and many new forms took shape including udon, soba, somen, and ramen noodles. As a dish with Chinese origins that has been built on over time, ramen became something that reflected Japanese history and changing culture.
It’s fascinating to examine historical shifts in these expectations or moments when food becomes symbolic in unexpected ways. For example, during Japan’s Fifteen Year War (1931–1945), white rice was prioritized as military rations, solidifying its newfound centrality in Japanese food culture. Previously, many rural communities on the Japanese islands relied on millet, barley, and sweet potatoes.
Post-war, white rice transitioned from a wartime staple to a marker of middle-class aspiration, reflecting broader cultural and economic shifts as communities recovered. Rice paddies grew in number, and the demand for white rice with each meal skyrocketed. For many Westerners, white rice, as long as we could remember, is symbolic of Japanese cuisine, when it’s really only been the last 100 years that it has found its place.
So what can we learn from all of this?
Food is an integral part of the human experience. From our biological process to our social structures, food has been a cultural force that has shaped all of us on an individual and national level. It’s not just about nutrition, but participation in events and holidays, connecting with neighbors and friends, and having the opportunity to express our care for ourselves and others.
Food is as much a reflection of our lives, as we are reflections of the food that we eat.
For some of our neighbors, it is a daily struggle to access fresh, nutritious food. In Colorado, as many as 1 in 9 people will experience food insecurity, and that number is higher for people of color and those under 18 years old.
Food access doesn’t have to be a barrier to health and happiness. You can support families and individuals on a local scale, with community-based organizations like We Don’t Waste stretching your gift further to be the most effective support possible for your neighbors.
Volunteer, or support our work by making a gift, and you can help us support over 750,000 Coloradans each year with nutritious, no-cost food access.
