Every day, between work and sleep and lectures, I put food into my mouth. It’s an important event, and has been across all of humanity’s existence. I rarely think about it, but what we eat and how we eat it speaks volumes about our culture and beliefs. Berdyaev tells us that as soon as you go beyond just providing sustenance for your own body (“a material question”), you form a relationship with others, a moral code, a value system: “a spiritual and religious question.” Competition or cooperation? Who is included? Who serves? One vital human characteristic is our need for social engagement, so we build communities around eating. In organised religion or at Auckland Uni pizza nights, sharing a meal is a way to connect; for my family, it’s an oasis in our busy lives.

Food also shapes our community structure and attitudes. Historically, people in the North Island could grow food in one area, and so distinct a hapū-iwi structure formed, whereas this wasn’t possible in the South Island’s colder climate, so tribes were migratory and intermixed. The history of tītī harvesting shapes the identity of its followers today and becomes a springboard for rights discussions and an insight into traditional techniques. In China, I noticed people were more willing to be creative with food around them (cheese drinks, roasted grasshoppers, bamboo, eating all of the pig or duck). My generation values efficiency in an overpopulated world, and therefore we often bolt takeaways down or eat in the car. So a people’s cuisine really represents more than just food: it’s a window to their culture, their mentality, their worldview.

 

References:

  • Quote by Nikolai Berdyaev, as referenced by Dr Nicholas Thompson
  • Kāi Tahu me te Hopu Tītī ki Rakiura: An Exception to the ‘Colonial Rule’? The Journal of Pacific History Vol 41 Issue 3, Michael J. Stevens 2006