The rise and use of foodie, the food world's favorite term
It’s the giant elephant in the room. Or perhaps more appropriately, that random piece of bell pepper or parsley sitting atop some monochromatic food. Or even in some circles, that piece of foie gras on the Wagyu burger or that truffle oil on everything possible. It’s the best thing since sliced bread! And, well, is sliced bread really such a great creation anyway?
The word “foodie” has sprung up like a little harmless fungus since it’s first use by Paul Levy in 1982 … and grown like some rampant Ebola strain, invading every possible piece of writing about food. Love it or hate it, appropriate or unnecessary, “foodie” is a fad that’s come and is nowhere close to being gone.
What does it mean, anyway? Not to toot my own horn, (toot, toot) but knowing French, some Spanish and some German, I’ve come to the conclusion that the English language has become more and more generalist. Foodie is one of those words that has replaced more specific nuances and is thrown around in everything, like Himalayan pink salt or whatever new, hip condiment there is.
My love affair with food goes way back and when I started contributing a few years back, the term never really came up. I’m a nerd and I like old stuff. I went for Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast, The Cambridge World History of Food and Secret Ingredients, a collection of food articles in The New Yorker. MFK Fisher, AJ Liebling and Adam Gopnik never really used the term. Jean Anthelme Brillat Savarin, probably the father of all foodies, got along just fine with words like “epicure,” “gastronome,” “gourmet,” “gourmand” … and plain old “glutton.”
Merriam Webster defines foodie as being “a person having an avid interest in the latest food fads.” The Oxford Dictionary says it’s “a person with a particular interest in food; a gourmet.”
More populist definitions by Internautes on www.urbandictionary.com have defined the term as such:
“A person that spends a keen amount of attention and energy on knowing the ingredients of food, the proper preparation of food, and finds great enjoyment in top-notch ingredients and exemplary preparation.
“A foodie is not necessarily a food snob, only enjoying delicacies and/or food items difficult to obtain and/or expensive foods; though that is a variety of foodie.”
But right under it, the second most popular definition is
Foodie – “A douchebag who likes food.”
Douchebag: “I’m a big foodie.”
Non-doucher: “Really? I like food, too, but I’m not a tool.” (Source: http://www.urbandictionary.com/ define.php?term=foodie
‘The hodgepodge pudding’
My call online for definitions came out with a bunch of replies, all hovering around the “idea of the love for food” but leaving me more curious than satiated.
Anton Diaz of www.OurAwesomePlanet.com says that “foodie simply means someone who lives for yummy food, would hunt down really good food, and for whom eating is a social event meant to be shared with family and friends.”
On a similar note, teacher Roberta Anonas shares, “A person who likes to eat, has a developed palate, is a good authority on where to eat.”
Amuses-bouches: entertaining multiple definitions
Chef Adrian Cuenca of Elbert’s Steakroom states that it is “someone who appreciates food much more than the average person. Someone who appreciates not just the flavor but the texture and presentation of a dish. Someone who understands what went on in the preparation of a dish. Someone who has much more food experience and is open-minded.”
For Sanjeeb Gopaldas, a father, businessman and food writer, it is “someone who treats food with respect. Understands its nuances, history and evolution.”
Is being a foodie someone who just loves to eat (which in theory is a glutton) or someone who loves the story behind what they eat? If it is the latter, then why don’t we simply make use of what is existing: gastronome? The most common argument is that a foodie does not limit himself to the rare or refined but eats and enjoys it all. Oh, wait. There is a word for that (borrowed from the French, of course): gourmand.
“The internet is for porn. Food porn,” said Carlos Celdran on Twitter, Sept. 3.
The rise of the word foodie seems to me closely linked to the growth of the Internet. It’s Alice’s mirror to a parallel universe where there is total freedom of expression. Freedom, however, does not come without consequences. The Queen of Hearts still exists and many will be quick to shout “off with her (his) head!” when disagreeing, but many will also come to defend. It’s a place where statements are made, can be easily retracted if necessary or can spread like wildfire and oftentimes without realizing the impact. Nowadays, with blogs, Facebook, Instagram, etc., anyone who loves food can have their piece of the pie, too.
“The Internet greatly helped create a sense of community around it, making it easy to hunt down really good food, and makes it simple to share yummy food via photos,” says Diaz.
The food blogger has power. And many times much more than a conventional print journalist. The following is large and unlimited to print or distribution. The posts are instantaneous and while I have to relegate myself to words and pictures, you can have a troupe of the Pringle’s man dancing to All the Pringle Ladies, a spoof of Beyoncé’s hit song. How much more fun is that?
A blog post can truly make or break an establishment, push forward new food trends (remember the Magnum phenomenon?), discredit others, even affect the universal quality of food offerings over time. With so many public foodies out there, how do we choose who is credible? And how much impact should they really have? Who decides what is really good or not?
Erwan Heussaff, the man behind www.thefatkidinside and Esquire magazine’s food editor, describes a foodie as being “someone who’s open to try and seek new food adventures and will eat anything once, but now people who only eat in fast-food places and shy away from offal just because, consider themselves foodies.”
The common crown
This is where the controversy lies: foodies are self-proclaimed. “Although there is nothing wrong with the word per se, I am bothered by its use,” explains restaurateur Elbert Cuenca. “More precisely, its overuse. It has come to the point of being bastardized. The word ‘foodie,’ which is nothing more than a modern-day casual substitute for ‘gourmet,’ has been relegated to mean anyone who likes food and/or eats out a lot. But who doesn’t like food? Who doesn’t eat out a lot? In a way, though, I’m glad that it’s there to help preserve the word ‘gourmet,’ which to most people means someone of authority when it comes to food. And to be an authority, there are certain qualifications that come with the title.”
Ines Cabarrus shares her take on this as well. “How do we know they are reliable? If they are honest. They will be true to their word and stick with it -- if they don’t like a place they will say it -- whether or not public agrees. I look for the people who say what they think and look at all aspects of the restaurant -- food quality, service and ambience -- people who take the time to really notice the details.”
The quality quotient
With “foodie” being an easy title to appropriate, and now having an influential virtual platform to share — and yes, let’s factor in the honest and shameless critiques — how do we set the standard for quality? In the food world, experience is crucial and everything is relative. Even Diaz, who is often hailed as being the voice of the everythingoodie, admits that “popular food is not equal to really good food. If I launch a survey on the whole Internet for ‘What’s the best burger,’ the popular one might not be what the foodies would regard as best.”
I had the honor of guesting as a judge on the first season of Junior Masterchef Philippines and the kids had to taste my dish and recreate it. My broiled chicken with orange balsamic adobo reduction was quite the hit. One child, who came from a very humble background, happily proclaimed: “Ang sarap! Parang Andoks!” I was touched. This was his highest point of reference. The best compliment he could ever give. I do have to say that in my frank opinion, I knew that my chicken wasn’t the best. How could it ever compare to the decadently slow-roasted, organic free-range chicken I had at Chez Panisse? It’s the invisible ladder of quality. Each step earned through pure experience.
The popular digestif
The term “foodie” may truly seem like a cop-out. It is the English language’s interesting degeneration into something unspecific and all-encompassing for fear of being truly definitive, which ironically provokes thought and analysis to give new meaning, resulting in creating a completely new morsel of vocabulary.
The foodie is both a follower and a leader. Individually inspiring and collectively shaping. The foodie wants to share and be shared. “Someone who takes it up kind of as a hobby” fellow STAR columnist Cheryl Tiu mused, “It’s a lifestyle. Foodies seek out food in the way that art collectors search for rare paintings in an antique shop, or music collectors search for classic vinyl in an offbeat record store.” Cabarrus points out, “Nowadays, with digital photography, foodies ‘collect’ their food with photos. Foodies are also those kinds of people that are in the know -- they keep their ear constantly to the ground, listening and waiting for the next food discovery, whether it’s a high-end concept restaurant of a famous chef, or a simple stall on the side of the road.”
It is difficult to quantify the foodie. Who is a better foodie than the other? And there is no reason to. Foodie is a free-for-all. Foodie is the “comrade” to the revolution. The title that replaced all titles.
My beef here is this: proclaiming yourself anything else other than a foodie means really having to live up to it. That’s why so many people are content to just be labeled a foodie. Are you an epicure? A critic? An oenologist? A chef? A cook? A gourmet? A gourmand? A gastronome? A gastronomist? Don’t be afraid to define yourself. There’s nothing wrong with a little variety.
That being said, the old soul that I am, I’m a gourmand and a gastronome, forever inspired by the words of the original, gloriously happy intellectual glutton Brillat Savarin. “Gastronomy is the knowledge and understanding of all that relates to man as he eats. Its purpose is to ensure the conservation of men, using the best food possible.” Amen to that.