Let Us Now Praise Famous Foods

There are certain dishes that, shall we say, don’t play in Peoria. Or Tel Aviv for that matter. At least not yet. At the top of the food chain is the Cuban Sandwich from our soul food kitchen: Pulled pork with jamaican seasonings, cheddar cheese, bacon, homemade pickles, homemade roll, homemade bbq sauces. Shit, I could eat this description. Nope. No traction here.

The same is also true with a number of dishes that are clearly all-stars: A shrimp salad influenced by the legendary southern chef Edna Lewis, a sauteed okra and tomato concoction (also by Lewis and Scott Peacock), Brunswick Stew, Glazed Turnip Soup.

You might suggest that it’s a kosher thing going on here, with the predominantly Jewish population here steering clear of the traif (seafood, pork, mixing of meat and milk, etc.). That is probably true to a certain limited extent. But I think there is a more basic driver here: We tend toward what we know, what is familiar.

Sociologists have long ago pointed out that humankind is tribal in nature, building social networks along lines of familiarity. And so these days, we speak quite vocally about our innate tendencies to be racist or sexist or homophobic — any number of terms we use to identify and hopefully amend tribal instincts.

So — and I suspect I am going to get myself into a peck of trouble with this suggestion here — what about a word for food groups or specific foods against which we hold an inherent though perhaps unarticulated bias? I don’t don’t what we would call it. Foodist? Culinist? And even if we had such a word, what do we then do with the Gluten-Freerers, and the Vegans, and the Ketos, and the Paleos. and the Non-Lactoses, etc. all of whom are tribes in one way or another for good reasons and don’t want to be part of the Omniovore Species a la Michael Pollan?

No answers to these questions. Beyond my pay grade. I’m simply asking, for a friend. As they say.