Food and diet are the cornerstones of culture, the most reliable symbols of national identity. In an era of rapid communication and accelerated trade, a trend towards cultural homogenization has emerged. A major American media outlet has argued that this trend is detrimental not only to the preservation of national identity but also to health. An article titled "World Food Culture" published in the June 11 issue of *Time* magazine highlights the following points:
Kaiseki cuisine was originally royal court fare, the pinnacle of Japanese dining—and few restaurants serve a more refined meal than Kikunoi, a Japanese restaurant in the former imperial capital of Kyoto. Even before the food is served, the dining environment is a visual delight: the room is covered with tatami mats, with no superfluous decorations save for a small alcove in the corner, where a scroll and a vase of seasonal flowers, now lilies, are placed. Next, kimono-clad servers present a succession of exquisite, bite-sized dishes in a dazzling array. Kaiseki is the product of centuries of cultural evolution, yet despite Kikunoi being a high-end restaurant—as the bill amply shows—its cuisine is a luxurious distillation of everyday Japanese fare: rice, fish, pickles, vegetables, and miso soup, artfully presented in healthy, small portions to the diner.
"I believe Japanese cuisine is embedded in the Japanese genetic code," says Yoshikazu Murata, the owner of Kikunoi. Perhaps he is right, but Japanese cuisine is also a heritage under siege, increasingly crowded out by the fast and convenient Westernized foods. Murata sadly says that his daughter, now of university age, recently saw little difference between the cheap fast food and the delicious, high-end dishes he prepares. Diet: The Cornerstone of Culture
It is not just Japan. Food and diet are the cornerstones of all cultures, the most reliable symbols of national identity. Think of the Spanish, who leisurely enjoy a long lunch followed by a siesta, a rhythm of food and rest that perfectly matches the intense heat of the Iberian Peninsula in summer. Think of Chinese food, with its rice, vegetables, and meat, often served on communal large plates, better suited for big family gatherings. National cuisines reflect every aspect of us: our religious taboos, class structures, geography, economies, and even forms of government.
Even traditions learned from others, we absorb and adapt to make them our own. Japan introduced chopsticks from China and tempura from Portugal. The main ingredient of pasta and pizza, the tomato, only arrived in Southern Europe as part of the "Columbian Exchange" (so called because Columbus discovered the tomato's homeland, the New World, on his voyages). "Many foods we think are deeply rooted in cultural tradition can actually be traced to global exchange," says Miriam Czikszentmihalyi, a nutritional anthropologist at Indiana University of Pennsylvania.
In an era of rapid communication and accelerated trade, cultural exchange has surged, leading to a trend towards cultural homogenization. This is detrimental not only to the preservation of national identity but also to the maintenance of health. Saturated fats and meat are gradually replacing grains and fresh vegetables. Meal times are shortening. McDonald's restaurants are springing up everywhere. From Chile to China, the incidence of obesity, diabetes, and heart disease is on the rise, while the distinctive cuisines that once made mealtimes in New Delhi, Buenos Aires, and Sydney a special pleasure are gone. This, in turn, has sparked a small-scale movement in some countries to cling tenaciously to their traditional food cultures, even as their menus become increasingly international. The Agricultural Age: Geography Determines Cuisine
This longing for the past may be a natural human tendency, but before we get misty-eyed over old ways of eating, it is important to remember that the primary purpose of food is to keep us alive—a task that was far more difficult in the past than it is today. For millennia, human societies were primarily agricultural, which meant people had to be self-sufficient or starve, or trade locally. Geography dictated the destiny of cuisine.
Africa, a continent struggling under immense political and economic difficulties, is today the most visible place of this ancient reality. In much of Africa, people are still tied to the land and live off it. Most diets are monotonously based on a single, calorie-rich starch—often a thick porridge made from cornmeal or flour in East Africa—supplemented, if at all, with a little something else. Meat has always been a rare delicacy reserved for holidays.
All human cultures probably began with this daily, spring-to-fall struggle for survival, but people in other regions encountered better environments—more fertile land, fewer droughts, milder climates—that allowed them to tame their lands, meaning their diets and their lives could develop in tandem. For example, Ken Albala, a history professor at the University of the Pacific, says that in pre-industrial, agricultural Europe, "people got up early, worked from sunrise to noon, took a break for the biggest meal of the day, then went back to the fields. They ate a simple dinner in the late afternoon or early evening, around five or six o'clock."
This comfortable cycle of the day's rhythm determining the meal rhythm fostered the custom of a large family lunch, which can still be seen in parts of Southern and Western Europe. "The meal is the basis of the family," says Carol Counihan, an anthropologist at Millersville University of Pennsylvania and author of *The Tuscan Table*. Therefore, "eating together" is "very important for reinforcing family bonds." After Industrialization: The Dining Table Becomes a Lunchbox
Since industrialization, it has become much harder to maintain this slow cultural metabolism, and the abundant lunch has shrunk to whatever can fit into a lunchbox or be bought at a food shop. Admittedly, there are benefits. Modern food production and transportation technologies have brought a greater variety and abundance of food, including a significant increase in animal protein and dairy products, making us stronger than our ancestors. In contemporary China, where tens of thousands starved less than 50 years ago, meat is becoming increasingly common, and the average height of Chinese teenagers has increased by 6 centimeters compared to 30 years ago. "China has gone from food scarcity to food surplus," says James Watson, a professor of Chinese society and anthropology at Harvard. "As a nutritionist, you would be appalled. As a historian, you have to see it as one of the greatest success stories on earth."
Yet much has been lost, even in cultures that still live to eat. Take Italy, for example. The Mediterranean diet—rich in olive oil, seafood, and fresh fruits and vegetables—is well-known for its health benefits, and the process of preparing and enjoying it is a pleasure. Traditionally, Italians started their day with *colazione*, a breakfast of lightly baked goods and coffee.
The main meal began around 1 p.m., starting with pasta, rice, or soup, followed by meat and vegetables, then fruit, of course, with wine. Between lunch and a simpler dinner, there was *merenda*, an afternoon tea of small snacks. Today, as time zones become less relevant and people can ill afford to have the office stop for lunch, and increasingly crowded city traffic means employees can't rush home and back to work on time. The once simple post-dinner dinner has thus become the main meal of the day, the only time the whole family can eat together.
South Americans are also struggling with the same changes. Many Latin Americans, says John Brett, a nutritional anthropologist at the University of Colorado Denver, also enjoy a large family lunch, with meals based on starchy grains like quinoa or plants like yucca. But this is impossible after moving from rural areas to cities. The Middle East: Enjoying Traditional Cuisine
It is not surprising that the food cultures preserved most successfully are those in societies that have resisted the allure of Westernization—with both advantages and disadvantages. In many Middle Eastern countries, extended families still live under the same roof, and women remain at home preparing traditional meals that women elsewhere no longer make. Middle Eastern cuisine also reflects religious influences; in addition to the common prohibition of pork and alcohol, Ramadan also changes eating habits in the region. Although Muslims fast from sunrise to sunset during this period, the nights of Ramadan are marked by feasting on high-calorie foods.
It turns out that it is difficult to hold on to the joys of enjoying traditional cuisine. However, this does not mean people are not nostalgic—some countries have seen a movement to rediscover how their mothers used to cook. In Europe, Asia, and the United States, the Slow Food movement—a "Greenpeace" for food—opposes fast food and advocates for meals prepared in traditional ways. Yet, while we may—and in fact must—weed out the excesses of the fast-food boom and strive to preserve dietary patterns that are healthier for us culturally and physically, no one claims we will ever go back to the way things were. "Nobody has the time anymore," says Harvard's Watson. "Not even the French."