People talk about ‘authentic food’ or ‘authenticity’ during discussions of cultural appropriation. That’s a frequent site of disagreement. But I think it’s worth talking about those phrases in their own right. Not that I don’t have any thoughts on cultural appropriation. Maybe I’ll write about that later. For now, check out Briahna Joy Gray’s article in Current Affairs as a starting point.
‘Authenticity’, in general, and ‘authentic food’, in particular, raise their own issues.
The fact is, ‘authentic food’ is all the rage. Diners and reviewers alike demand it. When you turn on Food Network, you see celebrity chef Aarón Sánchez judging Chopped contestants on it. And when the show goes to commercial break, you listen to him tell you to ‘go auténtico’.
And it’s not only reviewers and diners. There’s a broad consensus on this. Plenty of left-leaning critics of cultural appropriation, particularly ones found on social media, also uphold the virtues of authentic food. Along with it, they extol the virtues of broader notions of authenticity.
What should we make of all this? A few leading questions: What do people mean when they talk about ‘authentic food’? The same thing? What kind of a word is ‘authentic’? Where do broader cultural practices enter the picture?
Sense and Sensibilia
J. L. Austin gave some lectures back in the 1940s and 1950s on sense-data theory. He called those lectures Sense and Sensibilia. You might be wondering what a language-obsessed mid-20th century British philosopher lecturing on the philosophy of perception has to do with authenticity in food.
Actually, not much.
The point is this. Along the way, Austin analyzed popular uses of the word ‘real’ in some detail. ‘Authentic’ is a narrower and more specific way of saying ‘real’. Austin puts the word in a family with words like ‘genuine’, ‘proper’, ‘live’, ‘true’, et al. I think Austin has some things to teach us here.
‘Authentic’
Austin points out that we use ‘real’ in various ways. Even single phrases like ‘real color’ come out one way when we’re talking about say, the real color of a painting and another way when we’re talking about the real color of a person’s hair. In the former case, it’s about seeing the painting in the best light. But in the latter case, it’s about seeing the hair color without dyes or other alterations.
There’s something similar going on with ‘authentic’. If we’re talking about authentic artwork, for example, we’re probably contrasting it to forged artwork. We might think about Guy Hain‘s forged Rodin sculptures. Authentic artwork is what Rodin was doing, while forged artwork is what Hain was doing. We verify authenticity using certain established procedures.
But ‘authentic food’ might not be much like ‘authentic artwork’. When people talk about authentic food, they often refer to specific ingredients or recipes or traditions. Take the controversies at Oberlin College over Bánh mì and sushi as an example. The issues there were incorrect use of ingredients or preparation technique.
At other times, our use of ‘authentic food’ actually does look like ‘authentic artwork’. Many people object to white-owned restaurants serving foods from non-white, non-European cultures. While some refer to the exploitation involved, others refer to the race of the cooks. Looking through restaurant reviews, for example, one easily finds discussions of ‘authentic food’ heavily emphasizing the race or ethnicity of the people working in the kitchen.
Yelp! Reviews and Authenticity
Luckily you don’t have to take my word for it on this last point. You can read the literature. For her master’s thesis, Sara Kay studied 1,400 New York restaurant reviews using ‘authenticity’ language. And she found a couple of things. One, reviewers use this language specifically for non-European ethnic restaurants, particularly Mexican and Chinese restaurants. Two, reviewers often associate authentic food with negative cultural stereotypes.
Reviewers associate things like flashy signs, dragon décor, inexpensive food, and even bad service or dirty floors with authentic food. Kay concludes these associations advance white supremacism. They advance these stereotypes and limit what non-European restaurant owners can profitably do with their businesses. This latter point is particularly relevant to, say, Krishnendu Ray’s work in The Ethnic Restauranteur. And it’s particularly noteworthy in an era of extreme suppression of immigrants.
I don’t think Kay explores this, but it seems even positive cultural stereotypes would limit non-European restaurant owners. For this reason, I think left-leaning social media proponents of ‘authentic food’ ought to exercise caution.
Two Features of the Use of ‘Authentic’
Austin draws out four features of the use of ‘real’. I think we can usefully adapt two of these to ‘authentic’ as it’s used in ‘authentic food’.
1. Trouser-word
We often use ‘authentic’ in contrast to its counterpart, ‘inauthentic‘. They’re obviously related. This is to say that the meaning of one depends on the other. Which one wears the trousers, so to speak? The positive word or the negative one?
I think it’s the negative. That is to say that something is authentic insofar as there’s a way it might be inauthentic, but it’s not in this case. The Rodin sculpture is authentic because it’s not a forgery. And the authentic Bánh mì isn’t made with the wrong ingredients or techniques.
As a side note, I suspect people might disagree on this. I think many people want a robust, positive conception of cultural authenticity. I’ll say a bit below about why this is a bad idea. But I may hold off a bit until I have more to write on appropriation, specifically. Much of what’s wrong with that other debate, in my view, is that people rely too heavily on strong notions of what cultures are. But when we poke at ‘culture’, I think we find it’s much looser than we expect. As a result, we have to rely on the negative word.
2. Adjuster-word
The use of ‘authentic’ in ‘authentic food’ opens up the language in new ways. That is to say it adjusts words around it. It highlights various parts of the world we might not otherwise think about, and it might drive us to action. People use the phrase to highlight, say, moral or political issues in the food industry. Perhaps, say, to identify those cultural stereotypes Kay found.
As with any other adjuster-word, ‘authentic’ pushes us to think about the world in new ways. Maybe a meal from a great cook, or a cooking show, pushes you to learn more about a cultural group. Maybe it’s your grandma’s house and your own cultural group. I’ve probably learned a bit about Czech history after eating a kolach.
To what extent is a concept of authenticity essential to these benefits? Can we do without it? Get the same positive results through other means? It’s worth considering.
A Third Feature and Its Discontents
So, there’s a third feature of the word that’s perhaps more trouble. It’s highly adaptable. That’s to say we can use it to mean a lot of things, and it fits any number of underlying approaches. I wrote about Kay’s research above. And as I read articles on Kay, I kept wondering about so-called positive stereotypes.
With a word as adaptable as ‘authentic’, we have to pay very close attention to who’s leading the conversation. And we have to ask about their interests. Is it the immigrant restaurant owner? A chef? The wealthy white progressive? The young liberal arts college activist? Maybe a business association?
These things matter here. I think each of these groups have differing interests, constraints, perspectives, and shortcomings. And some of the wealthier, left-leaning contributors to these discussions demand a certain kind of ‘authentic food experience’ when they go to restaurants. Some chefs, I think, find this system rigid and confining. Maybe, say, the Chilean chef want to cook a dish that doesn’t line up so well with ‘Chilean culture’. Will people stop going to their restaurant?
A Pragmatic Question
And so, I’ve written a bit about positive and negative notions of ‘authentic food’. To some extent, this might be a question of which one outweighs the other. What are the benefits from eating authentic food and demanding authenticity from our restaurants? And what are the harms?
The main benefit seems to be preserving and expressing cultural histories and traditions. And the main harm seems to be advancing cultural stereotypes and stifling creativity among chefs from non-European cultures.
All in all? I think it’s more negative than positive. I suspect we can get the benefits without the appeal to authenticity. And I suspect we can fight against certain cultural attacks without such an appeal. But that’s still an open question. What do you think?
