The stream of light amber re-coats a sticky spout with a new layer of syrup. Upon contact with the surface of hot pancake, the liquid pools momentarily before splitting its path to cascade over the layered edges of the stack in a synthetic drizzle. An ultimate “imitation food” (Pollan 153), this combination of caramel coloring and corn syrup makes a sweet mixture not as sincere, but equally as mysterious as maple syrup itself.
The “mystical acts” that have come to represent the making of food products illustrate the increasing amount of unfamiliarity we have with the processes that form our food (Trubek 217). If the steps involved in making wine or maple syrup seem like wizardry to the average consumer, how do we begin to comprehend the processes that go into making a diet Coke or Mrs. Butterworth’s sugar free syrup? These food-like products take us even further from an understanding of food and immerse us in a foodscape dictated by health claims and nutrition labels. The compartmentalization that separates processes from results is a key factor in solidifying the “foodviews” held by consumers, so that an individual’s connection to the place or people involved in a food’s journey is eliminated from the process of food selection (Trubek 222).
In contrast to the French, who are very aware of how and where their food is produced (Trubek 84), it seems that Americans can drown their waffles in sodium hexametaphosphate and high fructose corn syrup while still viewing their breakfast condiment as a relative of maple syrup. The secrecy that is so prevalent in the food systems of the United States is not tolerated in France, as demonstrated by the events that made up the Mondavi case (Trubek 84). Unlike the French, American consumers don’t know where their food comes from, which makes them a lot less likely to fight for the protection of a given place or the use of a certain production method, since they have no connection to these things in the first place.
How can we begin to care enough about the land our food is made on to be willing to fight to protect it? Without a culture that ties us to traditional methods of production and a respect for land, it becomes exponentially more difficult to promote sustainable practices that honor a food’s natural form and the longevity of the land on which it’s produced. Moving forward, we must realize the value in knowing how a food is made, and use that knowledge as leverage to begin questioning the products that end up on our plate.