Originally published on the CGS blog on October 6, 2014.
If I learned anything from years of first-day-of-class icebreakers – other than the fact that I hate icebreakers – it’s this: people love food. It’s not only a common topic of conversation, but also a common precursor to conversation: it seems like every time I’m catching up with a friend, it’s over a meal of some kind.
Food is at the center of society. It’s a factor in almost every issue: climate change, human rights, development, etc. Moreover, it’s representative of our culture(s). Cities, states, and entire countries are often defined by their food; travelling has become not only about what you see, but also what you eat.
It’s not that hard to recognize, then, how food and politics intersect. A perfect example of this is the popular dish pad Thai. Often thought of as the quintessential Thai dish, pad Thai’s origins actually lie in a specific political and economic context. In the 1940s, Thailand was allied with Japan and was greatly affected with rice shortages caused by World War II. The dictator of Thailand, looking to reduce dependence on rice and foster a greater sense of nationalism, created pad Thai because it could be made with inferior quality rice. Apparently we aren’t the only country that lets politics invade our dinner plates.
Today, Thailand is still taking its food seriously. Thailand’s Prime Minister Yingluck Shinawatra, troubled by the lack of genuine Thai food abroad, pushed for the creation of the Thai Delicious Committee, which worked to design “‘an intelligent robot that measures smell and taste in food ingredients through sensor technology in order to measure taste like a food critic.’” The machine scans food samples to create a chemical signature that it then compares to an approved standard of authenticity. Overseen by the National Innovation Agency, the government-sponsored committee has already spent around $1 million, created a grading system for restaurants, and a free app that shows approved authentic recipes.
With this much emphasis being placed on food, it’s not that surprising that an academic field formed around it. Gastrodiplomacy – “using food as a tool to foster cultural understanding among countries” – has actually been around for quite a while. Many countries have a history of using food to promote their brand; while the list of countries includes South Korea, Peru, and others, Thailand once again provides the best example:
The Thai government’s rationale, The Economist noted was that the boom in [Thai] restaurants [around the world] would, “not only introduce delicious spicy Thai food to thousands of new tummies and persuade more people to visit Thailand, but it could subtly help deepen relations with other countries.”
The US State Department picked up on this trend a few years ago, launching the Diplomatic Culinary Partnership in 2012, which sends “chefs from across the country [to] serve as resources to the Department in preparing meals for foreign leaders, and [to] participate in public diplomacy programs that engage foreign audiences abroad as well as those visiting the United States.” Recently, American chef Tim Byres found “some remarkable common ground” with fellow chefs in Kyrgyzstan, of all places.
But gastrodiplomacy can also be a source of “cultural indigestion.” Some countries’ campaigns can become overwhelming to locals and food writers who tire of being surrounded by the same foods for months on end. It can also lead to more competition between countries, as seen between Israel and Lebanon during the “hummus war,” when both countries raced to win the world record for the largest bowl of hummus.
The best examples of gastrodiplomacy seem to come from local efforts, however, with a growing market of “fusion cusine”. For instance, you can now find Korean taco trucks in Los Angeles and New York. I was lucky enough to stumble upon kimchi burritos during my time in DC.
What this “homegrown” form of gastrodiplomacy shows us is that true cultural understanding may be as simple as a trip to the grocery store and a few hours in the kitchen. If our dishes can be paired together, why can’t our ideologies? Is world peace a taco truck and taste-testing robot away?
Realistically, it takes more than a creative dish to mend our differences. But it’s oh-so-delicious trying.
