One of my favorite quotes is: “Tell me what you eat and I’ll tell you who you are” – Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin. I like it because it says something beyond the classic “you are what you eat” which Schlosser chooses to conclude the introduction of Fast Food Nation. Despite the fact that they are both coming to the same point, I’m faced with the question of identity in the latter rather than being forced to picture myself as a giant donut.
In fall term of this past year, I attended a talk by food philosopher and activist Piper Dumont. Although she made significant remarks about how cuisine can define culture, she also delved into more personal areas such as gender, pulling up a blog entirely dedicated to photo’s of “women laughing alone with salad” which can be found at womenlaughingalonewithsalad.tumblr.com. Although this is ridiculous, I think it speaks to the subconscious of the average American mind. Stock photos reveal an interesting perspective of the norm/ideal. In this case, the norm is a thin woman eating a “healthy” and “feminine” meal.
On another note, these photos represent American logic. It is common knowledge that vegetables are “good” foods, they have plenty of vitamins and fiber that are necessary for a healthy, high-functioning body. However, the salads in these photos are typically a small bowl of dry spinach and bell peppers, maybe a tomato or two. They represent what we think “healthy” is and the confusion around what is “healthy” and what is “unhealthy”. We are “good” when we only eat celery all day and “bad” when we eat french fries. We, as a society, are caught between two different worlds: one that tells us to eat satisfying yet fatty, chemical-ridden foods such as McDonalds, and one that tells us to be thin and fit and eat fewer calories. This “lack of a steadying culture of food leaves us especially vulnerable to the food scientist” (Pollan 5).
These ideals are embedded in American lifestyle. As Schlosser says in Fast Food Nation: “Hundreds of millions of people buy fast food every day without giving it much though…They rarely consider where this food came from, how it was made, what it is doing to the community around them.” The overwhelming amount of choices in todays supermarkets makes convenience food look especially appetizing. As Pollan points out in The Omnivore’s Dilemma, “good” and “bad” become much more complicated in a culture like this one, and not thinking about what too eat (like the koala’s) becomes a comfortable habit.
We are caught between “the logic of nature and the logic of human industry” (Pollan). In this way, “you are what you eat” becomes even more important. Since American culture is one that often contradicts itself, it’s interesting to see what active choices we all make (local, organic, meat, no meat, fair trade) when we actually think about what we’re eating.
The perspective you offered in your last sentence was particularly fascinating. I think it is difficult to find food that meets all of one’s ethical qualifications; it is easy to prioritize one qualification (i.e. organic), and forget the others (i.e. local). Consumers often end up having to choose what is most important to them—whether it be their health, humane treatment of animals, farmer rights, etc.
Additionally, your point on the gendering of food brought to light a topic that is not commonly discussed. Just as women eating salad depicts a norm/ideal, as you said, so does men eating meat. If the gendered roles were reversed, the photos would evoke an entirely different meaning—perhaps one that deviated from the norm.
What an engaging and well written post, Cornelia. Your reference to Brillat-Savarin makes me think that, of all our readings, Amy Trubek’s might be especially interesting for you. Beginning with the concept of “terroir,” drawn from the French wine industry, she explores how it might be attached to developing experiences of food in our still-young nation. As your opening distinction makes clear, food choices look quite different when they’re related to larger cultural patterns and histories.