DUELING COLUMN: A closed palate can be costly

We have the privilege of the majority of grocery stores having aisles dedicated to international cuisines in modern times. In a metropolitan area such as Raleigh, there is vast diversity in the kinds of restaurants that are available and are a short drive away.

Despite this access, there still exists a general aversion to foods that don’t fit the American vision of a ‘good dish.’ This can be extremely harmful: Avoiding these cultural foods doesn’t just deprive a person of great food, it also limits what and who they are willing to engage with.

This aversion is rarely presented as a matter of prejudice. However, preferences do not exist in their own vacuum; they develop over time, concentrated by the behaviors and attitudes of those around you. They are shaped by what we are taught is clean, acceptable and normal.

The foods that we eat on a daily basis are shaped by the cultural hierarchies that we absorb over time, dictating which foods are considered ‘normal,’ which are considered ‘adventurous’ or ‘exotic’ and which are considered downright ‘weird.’

When a dish is dismissed before it is given a second thought, it often mirrors the way the culture behind it has been rendered foreign and othered, reduced to novelties for daring tourists willing to try something new.

The consequences of that hierarchy extends far beyond the preferences of an individual. Food is often an important way that people invite others into their culture. When those offerings are rejected outright, the response can signal distance, even if there was no intention to do so.

On the surface, it only appears like losing a dish, but, on a deeper level, that refusal leads to a lost connection.

The loss of connection is not often dramatic or overt. It doesn’t announce itself as exclusion or hostility. However, it lingers in the minds of those extending that invitation into their culture. Sharing meals has been entwined in spiritual and household traditions for at least 5,000 years, noted as far back as ancient Egypt.

People remember the quick dismissal of a restaurant based on the kinds of food alone, and the empty international aisle at the grocery store that is left unexplored. 

Curiosity does not require fearlessness. It begins in small actions: Stopping to actually take a look at the menu of a cultural restaurant before vetoing it or choosing to try a new international product at the store.

These moments don’t require a permanent change in tastes, just a willingness to accept an invitation before writing it off as ‘not for you.’ Even a small act of openness can carry meaning beyond the plate.

The cost of a closed palate is rarely obvious. But, over time, those refusals compound, and not only is our diet narrowed, but also who we encounter and how we allow ourselves to connect with them and their cultures. 

Small, seemingly insignificant decisions make cultural food appear as something that has to be worked around and avoided, instead of something to be engaged with. This reinforces the boundaries that access is supposed to break down.

Curiosity, in contrast, costs little, and has the power to widen our world in a way that a familiar palate never will.

Article originally published on Technician's website, found here.