Predicting the next big food trend has become a recurring theme in food journalism. For decades, experts have offered insights into what might capture our collective culinary imagination. While traditional meals often remain unchanged, the anticipation of novel food experiences continues to fascinate. This fascination extends beyond simple flavor preferences to encompass a deeper understanding of our relationship with food itself, and how the Food Around Us is constantly being shaped and reshaped by societal forces.
Historically, the idea of “future food” was often associated with technological advancements and convenience. It was less about the inherent qualities of the food itself and more about the methods of production and delivery. This vision, particularly prevalent in the mid-20th century, imagined a world where technology would liberate us from the mundane tasks of food preparation and even traditional agriculture.
For the Baby Boomer generation, growing up in an era of rapid technological progress, “future food” conjured images of readily available, processed meals. Think of TV dinners, the epitome of convenience, or Tang, the powdered orange drink popularized by space travel. These foods represented modernity and efficiency, a departure from the perceived constraints of traditional cooking and the food around us at the time. The animated series The Jetsons, set in a futuristic 2062, perfectly encapsulated this vision. Breakfast, in their world, was instantly materialized at the push of a button, showcasing speed and automation over the actual food itself.
However, the Jetsons’ food reality wasn’t entirely novel. It drew inspiration from 19th-century automats, early vending machines that dispensed cooked meals through mechanized compartments. These automats, popular in the early 20th century, were celebrated for their technological marvel and democratic accessibility. For a small coin, anyone could enjoy a hot meal, a taste of the future readily available in the food around us. While fast-food chains eventually replaced automats, the allure of automated food solutions persisted, shaping our expectations of “future delicious.”
The concept of “future delicious” then, often evoked images of pre-packaged meal solutions, minimizing the need for cooking and even the traditional meal experience. This idea is reflected in modern food trends like Soylent, meal replacement smoothies marketed towards efficiency-focused individuals, or energy bars and drinks designed to fuel us without the perceived inconvenience of sit-down meals. Meal kits, offering pre-portioned ingredients and recipes, represent a compromise, allowing for a semblance of cooking while maintaining control and convenience. Even the Impossible Burger, engineered to mimic the taste and texture of meat, speaks to a desire for technological solutions to dietary desires, regardless of traditional food around us norms.
However, this technological focus on “future delicious” raises critical questions. It often prioritizes the technological process over the actual food itself, potentially overlooking the cultural, social, and even emotional dimensions of food. As anthropologist Donna Haraway points out, this faith in “technofixes” can be naive, neglecting the complex relationship we have with the food around us, a relationship that extends beyond mere sustenance.
To understand this complexity, consider the enduring popularity of the Oreo cookie. It’s a highly processed, factory-made food, far removed from fresh, natural ingredients. Yet, Oreos are a global phenomenon, a best-selling brand enjoyed across cultures. They are “accidentally vegan” and “accidentally Kosher,” products of industrial food processing that have ironically become inclusive through their lack of fresh, traditionally defined ingredients.
The “deliciousness” of an Oreo, however, is not easily defined. Surveys reveal that while most people find Oreos delicious, they struggle to articulate why. Instead, they often associate Oreos with nostalgia, evoking memories of “home,” “school,” or childhood experiences. This suggests that “delicious” is not solely based on inherent taste but is deeply intertwined with personal memories, cultural context, and even corporate branding. The food around us shapes our perception of taste as much as our taste shapes the food we seek.
Advertising plays a significant role in shaping our understanding of “delicious” and our expectations for the food around us. Corporate campaigns have long aimed to sell not just products but also a vision of a better future. From Kodak’s promise of effortless photography to Ford’s post-war dream of car ownership, advertising has linked consumption to progress. Oreo’s recent campaigns exemplify this shift, moving beyond technological progress to embrace social progress.
Oreo’s “The Note” advertisement, for example, tells a story of acceptance and family belonging, with Oreos serving as a symbol of connection and support. This campaign reflects a contemporary understanding of “future delicious” that incorporates social justice and inclusivity. The food around us is no longer just about technological advancement; it’s also about reflecting and shaping societal values.
Ultimately, the “future delicious” is a constantly evolving concept, reflecting the aspirations and anxieties of each generation. It’s a moving target, shaped by technological advancements, cultural shifts, and societal values. While past visions focused on automation and convenience, today’s “future delicious” is increasingly intertwined with social consciousness and ethical considerations. Looking at the food around us now, we see a blend of these influences, a complex landscape where technology, tradition, and social values converge to shape what we eat and how we perceive it. The true “food future” may lie not in manufactured fantasies, but in embracing diverse culinary traditions and creating a more sustainable and equitable food system for everyone.
