The blessings of liberty
In my hometown there
are at least eight places to get a burger: Smash Burger, Fat Burger, Two Guys,
Freddy’s, Red Robin, and Village Inn, not to mention the steadfast Burger Kings
and McDonalds’. I could list off the same number of restaurants specializing in
tacos, pizza, and Chinese. Clearly Americans are not satisfied with only one
option for their favorite foods. What does this say about American culture? We
like choices. The ability to choose is an integral part of our country’s
values. The Bill of Rights protects our right to choose; we are guaranteed
freedom of religion, of speech, and of the press. This principle has clearly
spilled over into the area of dining. Through eating we can connect to our
national identity. Food can also serve to define us as individuals; the choices
we make as consumers build our personal identity by the image we project and
the associations we create between food and memories. The freedom to choose and
a need to individualize lead to choice as a prevalent food value in American
culture.
An example of how
choice is important in American society can be found in advertisement. The
purpose of advertisements is to attract consumers. To do so, advertisers must
look at the way people feel and think to make the most successful ad. Because
of this process, looking at how an advertisement appeals to its audience can
tell a lot about the consumer’s values and culture. Burger King’s ad campaign
markets to an audience that likes choice; they have been letting customers
“Have it [their] way” since 1954 (see Image 1). The ad that adorns paper tray
liners and hangs, framed on the walls of Burger King places the customer first;
underneath the bold “HAVE IT YOUR WAY,” the sub heading states “You have the
right to have what you want, exactly when you want it” (see Image 1). Burger
King has keyed into the fact that Americans like to choose what they eat and
not be limited to a few, pre-selected options. Being able to customize an order
allows individualization and a larger variety of choices.
On a broader scale,
simply noting the number of restaurants on any given commercial street
illustrates American’s need for variety. Pull off any major interstate exit and
a Wendy’s, Arby’s, Taco Bell, Subway, and some golden arches will be waiting.
Where there is one eatery, it’s not unusual to find three or more other options
nearby. Choice is obviously an important part of American culture. Being a
center for the great American pastime, a ballpark can function as a good
representation of this culture. At any baseball game, there are a variety of
people in the stands. From race and age to couples, friends, and families, the
fans at a ballgame really exemplify the American melting pot. While most may
come for the game, there is also something to be said for the food; the options
available at any given ballpark exemplify the principle of choice. When
I attended a weekend Rockies game at Coors Field, this food value was apparent;
the number and diversity of concessions was overwhelming.
Coors Field houses an array of
dining options from the traditional hot dog to the not so traditional basket of
oysters. The typical built-in concession stands sell hot dogs, hamburgers,
fries, popcorn, nachos, helmet sundaes and all other baseball staples. Free-standing carts carry Dippin’ Dots, cotton
candy, lemonade, and beer (Coors of course). In addition to this customary
fare, there are plenty of novelty food items. Tornadoughs (a cheese or cinnamon
covered twisted pretzel), salads, kettle corn, noodle bowls, burritos, and
chocolate-covered fruit kabobs can also be purchased around the stadium. A more
specialized burger can be found at Helton’s right behind left field as well as
ice cream at Madeline’s. For fans that don’t enjoy holding food in their laps,
two restaurants are located around the park, the Mountain Ranch Bar and Grill
and the Blue Moon smokehouse. For those who don’t want to leave their seats,
vendors move throughout the stands, hawking frozen lemonade, hot chocolate, and
beer.
Similar to the Burger King ad,
Coors Field allows fans to have it their way. With a multitude of choices, everyone
can have exactly what they’re craving. This sample of American life supports
the food value of choice. This common value can create a unifying identity; as
Nancy Albrecht and Brian Fortney note, “When individuals hold ‘core’ identity
labels they are very deeply committed to the fundamental values and beliefs
associated with that group…” (182). For Americans, two of these core labels can
be considered freedom and choice; embodying these values as a group constructs
a national identity. This country was built on the principle of a man’s right
to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. This basic concept encompasses
all areas of daily life, whether it is buying a house or eating precisely what
one wants for lunch. In the United States, people identify as free; this
includes the freedom to eat. The choices
made when preparing for a meal is another way to connect to national identity;
it reflects American beliefs.
Another way the food value of
choice plays out is through personal identity. Claude Fischler discusses how
food is integral to a sense of identity (275). While national identity is about
belonging, personal identity is about being different. Fischler states, “The
way any given human group eats helps to assert its diversity, hierarchy and
organization, and at the same time, both its oneness and otherness of whoever
eats differently” (275). While a group of people may identify as Americans, it
is their differences that set them apart and make them individuals. The choices
a person make produce these differences; they serve to define who he or she is,
which includes the food he or she chooses to eat. Fischler
suggests ways that food enters our identity: through our preferences and the
anchor it provides for memories.
Just
as Burger King allows its customers to personalize their meal, many restaurants
let the consumer pick and choose what goes onto their plate. At many sandwich
shops, the diner can construct his or her meal from the bread to the sauce.
Frozen yogurt places function similarly, permitting the customer to fill his or
her own bowl and add toppings. Restaurants like these allow customers to
express themselves; people “identify themselves in this framework by their
tastes and distastes” (Fischler 286). Throughout high school, I would frequent
Subway, grabbing a sandwich to go between activities. My usual is ham and white
American on parmesan oregano bread topped with lettuce, green peppers, and
spicy mustard. However trivial, each choice I make serves to define another
aspect of my being. The individual choices I make are “representations of [my]
‘self’ with multiple labels” (Albrecht and Fortney 182); each preference says
something about who I am. When I go to TCBY, I always order a chocolate
milkshake with Oreos and cheesecake mixed in. But I can also remember a time
when Nerds over a dish of vanilla frozen yogurt was my dessert of choice.
Food
produces strong personal connections for me. Being a military dependent, I have
lived many places in my life, and each place has come to be associated with a
different set of foods. For some reason or another, my memories of places tend
to revolve around the food I experienced there. These foods survive in my
memories as anchors for the many events of my childhood. Nerds in
frozen yogurt reminds me of South Dakota and a day at the park and being pulled
down the street in my little red wagon to the local TCBY. Freezing orange juice
into popsicles brings back the feel of clay, catching bullfrogs in the ditch,
and the pebbled drive way of my house in Virginia. Food acts as a stimulus for
memories containing the places and actions that I identify with. Albrecht and
Fortney present this facet of identity as “a product of multiple discourses and
relationships” (182). We connect to past events, to “multiple discourses,” to
solidify our sense of self. Choices we made because of our preferences growing
up provide the memories that reinforce who we are in the present.
This
association between food and identity can be found within Geoff Nicholson’s ruminations
in “Eating White” and Roy Ahn’s reflections in “Home Run: My Journey Back to
Korean Food.” Growing up in England, “white” foods, bland meals with a bland color,
were common to the English diet (Nicholson). This was especially true in the
author’s household to the extent that he connects that type of food with his
mother. Nicholson eats a plain cheese sandwich made on white bread in memory of
his mother; showing how food is integrated into his sense of self (Nicolson 21).
These “white” foods connect him to his family and country. Similarly, Ahn
connects to his culture through the type of foods he chooses to eat. As a child
growing up in the States with Korean parents, Ahn tried to find a happy medium
between the two cultures. He identified himself as American or Korean through food.
Eating out with friends, Ahn downplayed his ethnic roots, while at home he
enjoyed kimchi and ginseng chicken stew (13-14). Later in the article, Ahn
discusses imparting his mixed culture on his newly-born son; he writes “…food remains
a primary conduit through which I hope to instill in him the lessons of one
half of his ethnic roots” (Ahn 15). Accompanied by meaningful connections, food
is a tool for building identity.
We all make choices, especially where food is involved. The
sheer number of places to eat is a testament to this fact. Our inclination for
choice springs from the fundamental values of our country but also from the
need to individualize. The choices we make build our identity; through individual
tastes and past experiences, we define who we are. My family is completely
Americanized. We frequent Panda Express and Qdoba, and McDonald’s has been a
staple in our diet ever since I can remember. In addition to identifying on a
national level, we are each part of our own culture, with a unique set of
dishes that define us. The dishes I have experienced growing up serve as focal points
for my memories which secure me to my identity. Crab cakes in Virginia; schnitzel,
brochen, and curry frites from Germany – each food says something about me. The
choices we make, whether it is because of personal taste or a connecting
tradition, define who we are. America loves food and Americans like choices.
Ahn, Roy. "Home Run: My Journey Back to Korean
Food." Gastronomica: The Journal of Food and Culture 9.4 (2009): 12-15. Print.
Albrecht, Nancy and Brian Fortney. "Thinking Identity
Differently: Dynamics of Identity in Self and Institutional Boundary." Cultural
Studies of Science Education 6.1 (2011): 181-186. OmniFile FullText Select (H.W. Wilson).
Web. 14 Apr. 2012
Fischler, Claude. "Food, Self, and Identity." Social
Science Information 27.2 (1998): 275-92. Ebsco Host. Web. 22 Apr. 2012.
Nicholson, Geoff. "Eating White." Gastronomica: The Journal of Food and Culture 10.1 (2010): 21-23. Print.
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