Making the Mediterranean Response 1

          This week’s readings highlighted how dynamic the perception of certain foods can be, and how dependent on time and place those perceptions are. Shifting health ideologies, social statuses, availability, and supply/demand relations all have a profound impact on which foods prevail and where. For example, in the Serao reading, learning of the poor’s diet in Naples and how pizza failed when removed from this setting asserts just how a population’s food preferences can shift relative to geography. The Columbian Exchange transformed European diets in many ways, thanks to the introduction of crops like potatoes, sugar, coffee, and especially the tomato.

            One of the biggest and most important changes in food perception in Europe has to be the tomato. The fact that it is such a staple part of Italian cuisine today, yet it was brought from across the world and completely refused at first, shows just how variable tastes can be over time. It has me wondering if the foods that our societies shun today will one day be a crucial part of our diet, or vice versa—will there ever be an Italy without its trademark pasta? It is hard to imagine, but the story of the tomato shows us that cuisine is a concept that can be profoundly dynamic. The tomato went from being seen as unhealthy (even poisonous) as the “four humors” and other old health ideologies prevailed, to an “agricultural, culinary, as well as artistic presence” as noted in the Pomodoro reading. After the initial skepticism vanished, its popularity was allowed to increase towards its full potential. Not only was it found that the tomato complimented a variety of foods (especially meat, fish, and eggs in Corrado’s cookbook), the tomato was cheap, not to mention one of the only crops available to the peasants in Southern Italy during the summer months. The poor of Italy had a very limited and rather unfavorable diet, as noted in the Serao reading, but the tomato was a small glimmer of hope. It was also used as a medicinal plant and said to aid digestion, the exact opposite of its former perception by not just Italy but most of Europe in general. Now, however, the tomato has become a “global food” as stated in Nunn’s article on Columbian Exchange. Nunn goes on to say that nine of the top ten tomato-consuming countries are Old World countries—the countries that initially refused to eat it—and that the tomato “significantly altered the cuisine of Italy and other Mediterranean countries.”

            The heavy focus on health in the historical European diet was another aspect I found interesting. The ideology of the four humors and also the notes about health in the Castelvetro readings showed that taste and availability were not the only factors in cuisine. It makes me think of how far removed food is from medicine today, and how crucial it was then. We rarely attribute food to illnesses today or rely on it as a cure.

            There are many factors that contribute to the cuisine in an area. The Columbian Exchange and supply & demand, changing health ideologies, and social class are all parts of the tomato’s story. From a sternly rejected crop to an integral part of not only Italy’s but many other European countries’ diets, the tomato shows us that cuisine is as social as it is geographic. Food preferences are subject to change greatly over time, and like the stories of sugar and coffee, we are able to better understand the past through the lens of food.