All Consuming

1. Modern Food Culture: A Socially Engineered Appetite

You can’t separate ‘real’ appetites from ‘fake’ appetites manufactured by industry or media or tech.

Our tastes are social. Our food preferences are not purely biological but are deeply influenced by our social environment, from family and friends to school and work. This learning process shapes what we desire, often irrespective of the food's inherent qualities. The book argues that even seemingly personal cravings are products of collective experience and external influence.

Power shift. Historically, food knowledge came from close personal connections. However, since World War II, the balance of power has shifted dramatically from countries to corporations. This era saw the rise of:

• Restaurant chains
• Supermarkets
• Delivery services
• Fast food
• Industrial agriculture
  These forces are not external disruptions but are integral to modern food culture, shaping our choices and desires.

A composite culture. Today's food culture is a complex, ever-changing blend of advertising, branding, travel, and digital media. Recipes no longer just pass hand-to-hand; they bombard us from all angles—TV, internet, social media. This expansive, often commercially driven, food culture means our diets are shaped by global influences, leading to a paradox of plenty where more choice often leads to more anxiety about what to eat.

2. The Internet: Architect of Our Culinary Cravings

Different kinds of media – TV, smartphone, books, apps – don’t just give us blank space for sharing food, they also change the foods we desire and why.

Engineered for craving. The internet, particularly social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok, has become the primary infrastructure for food culture. Recipes are now meticulously crafted for virality, prioritizing visual appeal and "craveability" over traditional authenticity or practicality. Platforms like Mob Kitchen exemplify this, using close-up videos, strategic color palettes (like "orange" for hunger), and sensory language ("crispy," "juicy") to bypass rational thought and directly stimulate pleasure centers.

The global pantry. Modern recipe development, popularized by figures like Yotam Ottolenghi, embraces a "modular and iterative" approach, remixing familiar flavors from a global pantry. This allows for an exponential increase in possible recipe formulations, leading to hybrid dishes that are both novel and aggressively pleasing. The goal is no longer just "delicious" but "This thing will make you see god," pushing recipe writers to constantly one-up previous creations.

Beyond the recipe. The internet has transformed recipes from static instructions into dynamic, multimedia content. Early food blogs, Flickr, and eventually Instagram and TikTok, provided visual-first platforms where food photography evolved from illustrative to intensely craveable. This shift means that a recipe's success depends not just on its functionality but on its ability to capture attention and generate engagement in a crowded digital landscape.

3. From Critics to TikTok: The Shifting Landscape of Food Authority

Are you going to trust a traditional restaurant critic – a gavel-banger whose taste is definitionally better than yours and therefore, possibly, different to yours? Or are you going to trust this guy – one of the most likeable guys that TikTok has ever thrown up, with the baby-face and the natural camera command of a boyband member, in a freshly laundered sweatshirt, trying not to wake up the toddler?

The rise of the digital critic. Traditional restaurant criticism, once dominated by legacy media figures like Craig Claiborne or Jonathan Gold, is being challenged by social media influencers. Keith Lee, a former MMA fighter turned TikTok sensation, embodies this shift. He reviews small, family-owned restaurants anonymously, offers honest feedback, and refuses payment for promotions, earning immense trust and the power to transform businesses overnight.

A new lineage of influence. Lee's approach echoes earlier "hypemen eating on the road" like Duncan Hines (who published "Adventures in Good Eating" for white middle-class motorists) and Victor Hugo Green (whose "Green Book" guided Black travelers during segregation). These figures, operating outside the establishment, built influence through relatable recommendations and community trust, proving that authority can come from utility and shared experience, not just expertise.

Democratization of taste. Social media has democratized food criticism, moving influence from a few "unelected tastemakers-in-chief" to a multitude of voices. While this can lead to superficial content, it also allows for diverse perspectives and the celebration of everyday foods often ignored by mainstream critics. The question of who to trust now hinges on relatability and perceived honesty, rather than traditional culinary gravitas.

4. Hype and the Queue: Social Media's Power to Create Desire

The longer they are, the more people want to join them.

The queue as advertisement. In modern food culture, particularly for viral items like Borough Market's chocolate-covered strawberries or New York's cronuts, the queue itself has become a powerful marketing tool. Social media videos showcasing long lines create a "murmuration of starlings" effect, where the crowd's presence signals desirability and fuels further pilgrimages, often irrespective of the food's actual quality.

FOMO economics. This phenomenon is driven by the "Fear of Missing Out" (FOMO), amplified by platforms like TikTok. The app's algorithm prioritizes content that generates engagement, meaning videos of viral foods, queues, and "game walkthroughs" (routes, menu hacks) proliferate, creating a self-sustaining cycle of hype. The visible quantification of likes, views, and physical lines becomes the ultimate measure of a food's perceived value.

From place to experience. The focus shifts from the restaurant as an establishment to a singular, shareable experience. Foods like Shake Shack burgers or Dominique Ansel's cronuts became "singularities," shared as photos and videos rather than discussed in the context of their venues. This bypasses traditional critical discourse, allowing simple, marketably unpretentious foods to achieve international fame through collective, algorithmically-driven desire.

5. Bubble Tea: A Global Trend Forged by Migration, Tech, and Business

The culture adapts. New ideas come out of left field.

A customizable sensation. Bubble tea, originating in Taiwan, has become a global mega-trend, particularly among Gen Z and Millennials. Its success stems from extreme customizability (base tea, add-ins, sugar/ice levels, milk types, cheese cream toppings) and its inherent photogenic qualities, making it perfect for Instagram and TikTok. This allows consumers to tailor drinks to their atomic tastes, fostering a deep sense of personal connection.

Confluence of factors. The British bubble tea boom, for instance, is a perfect storm of:

• Coffee culture: Prepared consumers for customizable, adult-friendly sweet drinks.
• East Asian migration: Chinese international students, a vital consumer base, brought existing bubble tea literacy and demand.
• Social media: Provided the visual platform for rapid spread and hype.
• Corporate scalability: Chains like Bubbleology and Mooboo capitalized on low overheads, inexpensive machinery, and standardized processes, allowing for rapid expansion and franchising.

Beyond taste. The rise of bubble tea illustrates how food trends are shaped by broader forces beyond culinary merit. Business models, property economics (e.g., rising rents in Chinatown favoring chains), and government policies (e.g., university funding cuts leading to increased international student recruitment) all play a crucial role. The drink's journey from a niche East Asian offering to a mainstream global phenomenon highlights the intricate interplay of culture, commerce, and policy.

6. The Dream Home: Homemaking as Performance and Fantasy

What if, instead of just making a note-perfect casserole, you took a more baroque approach?

Homemaking as spectacle. Online platforms have seen a resurgence of "tradwife" and hyper-domestic content, exemplified by figures like Nara Smith, who meticulously makes everything from scratch (e.g., baking Oreos for an Oreo blitz, milking a cow for cheese). This trend transforms everyday homemaking into a performance, often with an aesthetic of delicate absurdity, reflecting societal anxieties about gender roles and the ideal home.

Aspirational domesticity. This content taps into a long history of aspirational homemaking, from Victorian "domestic economy" manuals to post-war women's magazines like Ebony. These publications presented idealized versions of home life, often detached from the realities of labor or economic constraints. They offered a vision of what a "perfect cook" or "mistress of the lifelong dream" could be, allowing readers to engage in fantasy.

Contradictions and complexities. The "dream home" narrative often glosses over the complex realities of domestic labor, gender, and race. Historically, "homemaking" was often the forced labor of marginalized women, while aspirational content was aimed at a burgeoning middle class. Modern online trends, while compelling, can be seen as a "fifties-coded backslide," prompting questions about who is allowed the "beautiful life" and the true cost of such meticulously curated domesticity.

7. Cookbooks: More Fantasy Than Function, Shaped by Commerce

Food in cookbooks is more often a form of what might be than a record of what is.

The gap between aspiration and reality. Cookbooks, despite their practical appearance, often serve more as works of fantasy and aspiration than as guides for everyday cooking. They tell stories of culinary possibility rather than accurately reflecting what people actually eat. This gap is evident from medieval royal manuscripts, which showcased power and prestige, to modern glossy magazines.

Beyond the recipe. The cookbook industry is a complex market driven by various forces beyond culinary instruction. These include:

• Publishing ambitions: Editors like Jill Norman shaped British foodie culture by commissioning scholarly, writerly cookbooks.
• Appliance tie-ins: Books like the Belling Cookery Book taught people to use new electric ovens, linking recipes directly to product purchases.
• Supermarket collaborations: Sainsbury's cookbooks, like Josceline Dimbleby's Cooking with Herbs and Spices, guided consumers through novel ingredients found in stores, blurring the lines between editorial and retail.
• TV show spin-offs: Mary Berry's Baking Bible and numerous Bake Off books demonstrate how television shows create a "vibe" that cookbooks then monetize, making them "souvenir T-shirts" for popular media.

An unreliable record. Cookbooks are unreliable historical guides to actual eating habits because they often preserve dishes that are rarely cooked or reflect the tastes of a specific elite. However, as cultural artifacts, they are invaluable witnesses to the broader economic, social, and technological forces that shape our world, revealing the stories that the recipes themselves often omit.

8. Entertaining: A Performance of Effort and Aspiration

Every one of these, from the menu down to the geometry of the napkins, is the ultimate in small-time ambition – silverback stuff, but through the medium of River Cafe ‘Chocolate Nemesis Cake’.

The competitive dinner party. Entertaining, particularly the dinner party, is inherently a performance, a "fairground mirror for the bigger neuroses of the time." Shows like Come Dine with Me highlight the competitive nature and potential for disaster, revealing that hosts are often more concerned with appearing effortless than with actual ease. This dynamic has evolved from formal Victorian banquets to modern, "casual" gatherings.

Contrived carelessness. The modern middle-class host often aims for an aesthetic of "contrived carelessness," popularized by figures like Alison Roman. This involves making significant effort in sourcing ingredients and achieving specific visual effects (e.g., a perfect char on roasted vegetables) while maintaining an illusion of nonchalance. This contrasts with the overt extravagance of Martha Stewart, who openly embraces the theatricality and immense labor involved in entertaining.

The host's ego. Ultimately, entertaining is about the host. The satisfaction comes not just from guests' pleasure but from the host's ability to create that pleasure. This desire to impress, to "go wildly above your station," drives the elaborate preparations, even if it means making dishes that are far removed from everyday cooking. The "rule of four" (or five, or six) suggests adding unnecessary, whimsical elements to make the meal memorable and unique.

9. Supermarkets: Architects of Choice and Identity

Every supermarket is an American supermarket, no matter where it is.

The "endless perhaps." Supermarkets, pioneered by Michael J. Cullen's King Kullen in 1930, revolutionized grocery shopping by introducing self-service, vast product selections, and low prices. They transformed a chore into an "inviting place to spend an hour," creating a "fugue state" of overwhelming choice and confused gratitude. This "endless perhaps" of products caters to our deepest consumerist desires, making every purchase feel like an act of freedom.

Cold War symbols. During the Cold War, supermarkets became powerful symbols of American capitalism and democracy. Exhibitions like "Supermarket USA" in Yugoslavia showcased the abundance and choice of American life, aiming to sway nations away from communism. This era cemented the supermarket's role as more than just a store, but as a representation of an entire way of life.

Branding and identity. As supermarkets proliferated, they needed to differentiate themselves beyond mere convenience. Sainsbury's, for example, developed an iconic design aesthetic under Peter Beaumont and Peter Dixon, using standardized typefaces and geometric, saturated colors. This visual language transformed every product into an expression of the Sainsbury's brand, fostering a sense of loyalty and making customers feel like they were shopping somewhere "more human and idiosyncratic" than a generic chain.

10. Industrial Ice Cream: A Golden Age of Engineered Delight

The world of industrial ice cream manufacture is incredibly complex, but our tastes are simple.

The impulse ice cream. The golden age of British ice cream, spanning the late 1970s and 1980s, began with the challenge of packaging the perfect ice cream cone. The Cornetto, launched in 1976, was a triumph of engineering: a chocolate-lined wafer cone filled with a stable, vegetable-fat-based ice cream that wouldn't drip. This "impulse ice cream" allowed consumers to buy a pre-made, perfect cone anywhere, anytime.

Waves of innovation. This period saw an explosion of new ice cream products, driven by:

• Technological advancements: Machines capable of intricate molding (Funny Feet, rocket-shaped lollies), precise layering (Viennetta's millefeuille-inspired chocolate sheets), and advanced spraying techniques (Magnum's snapping chocolate shell).
• Corporate strategy: Unilever's acquisition of European ice cream businesses and its focus on marketing to adults (e.g., "Just One Cornetto" song, "Magnumize your life" campaign).
• Economic conditions: The end of rationing, increased spending power, and the rise of home freezers created a demand for new, more sophisticated ice cream experiences.

The Magnum effect. The Magnum, launched in 1990, epitomized this era. It combined real vanilla ice cream with a thick, snapping chocolate shell, marketed as an adult indulgence. Its success, becoming the world's best-selling ice cream, demonstrated that while industrial ice cream manufacturing is complex, consumer tastes often gravitate towards simple, well-executed concepts, especially when backed by massive R&D and marketing efforts.

11. Wellness Drinks: Old Tonics, New Marketing

Every one of these drinks invented a problem that I’d never thought I had, and offered a solution in terms that I will never properly understand.

The functional drink boom. We are in a new era of "functional drinks," a multi-million-pound category encompassing immunity shots, energy drinks, and prebiotic sodas. These beverages are ubiquitous, appearing in supermarkets, restaurants, and social media feeds, often advertised with Y2K aesthetics and vague, aspirational wellness claims. They invent new neuroses and offer costly, often scientifically dubious, solutions.

Wellness as a marketing engine. This trend is fueled by:

• Reduced alcohol/sugar consumption: Younger generations are seeking alternatives to traditional sodas and alcoholic beverages.
• Wellness culture: A pervasive ideology that promotes "self-optimization" through consumption, shifting from dieting (consuming less) to adding supplements and specialized products.
• Healthcare anxieties: In the absence of clear health guidance, compelling narratives and easy solutions become attractive.

Old wine, new bottles. Many "cutting-edge" wellness drinks are based on ancient recipes (kombucha) or simple ingredients (vitamin C water, vinegar). The innovation lies not in production but in marketing and branding. Companies like Poppi, a gut-health soda, leverage social media, influencer endorsements, and massive advertising campaigns (e.g., Super Bowl ads) to rebrand basic ingredients as revolutionary health solutions, often making claims that push regulatory boundaries.

12. Fast Food's Legacy: The Enduring Wall of Machine-Mediated Convenience

The screen isn’t just an interface to connect the eater and the cook. It is also a wall.

The automat's blueprint. The early 20th-century automat (Horn & Hardart) pioneered convenience, consistency, and "waiterless" service. These machines, presenting food in glass-fronted lockers, offered a seemingly frictionless dining experience. While the technology was basic, the true innovation lay in the human systems behind the wall: centralized production, rigorous quality control, and standardized processes that minimized human interaction and labor costs.

Fast food's inheritance. The automats laid the groundwork for modern fast food. Chains like McDonald's adopted and perfected the automats' core principles:

• Consistency: Ensuring identical food quality across all locations.
• Cleanliness: Maintaining sterile environments.
• Convenience: Delivering meals quickly and efficiently.
• Control: Centralized oversight of operations and recipes.
  Fast food essentially took the automat's "speeding up the food you got at home" and applied it to "food you'd eat on the road," becoming a global phenomenon.

The digital wall. Today, the automat's "wall" endures in tech-mediated dining. McDonald's self-order screens, Deliveroo apps, and QR code menus create interfaces that simplify transactions but also distance the eater from the cook. This "antisocial platform" offers the illusion of instant, silent gratification, catering to the "anxious eater's Valhalla" by minimizing interpersonal friction, even if it means sacrificing genuine connection or sometimes, efficiency.

Last updated: December 2, 2025