Boba tea, ube, matcha, knafeh. These foods are just a few examples of cultural foods that have fallen victim to being a trendy fad in the “foodie” scene. Many will argue that there’s nothing wrong with embracing food from other cultures, but many don’t see the snowball effect of consumeristic ideology.
Ube, a purple yam native to the Philippines, has been a staple food for centuries, providing nourishment during times of hardship in the country. Even with its rich history in the Philippines, westerners only seem to care about its vibrant purple color, using its allure to make a sale on their products. Business owners often use taro in place of ube. Taro, a root vegetable that is less difficult to find and less expensive than ube, can be dyed with artificial colors and marketed as ube to keep up with the trend.
Another cultural food on the rise in the American mainstream is Dubai chocolate. Kataifi is a shredded phyllo dough that is popular throughout the Middle East. Dubai chocolate takes toasted kataifi and mixes it with pistachio butter before filling it in a milk chocolate bar. Before the trend, a one pound bag of kataifi could be found for less than $8, whereas now, vendors are selling the same amount for prices ranging from $15 to $25. The explosive demand for the viral chocolate bar caused significant disruptions in the global supply chain for key ingredients. Reports emerged of kataifi pastry selling out in markets as far away as Australia. This mirrored a similar but much larger pattern involving pistachios, which saw a global shortage and price increase. When the Dubai chocolate trend was adopted globally, the association of the chocolate bar with the traditional Middle Eastern dessert knafeh was lost on many consumers. Instead, kataifi became known as simply the “crunchy stuff” in the viral chocolate bar. The trend elevated and commodified the traditional Middle Eastern ingredient kataifi and the dessert knafeh for a global, affluent audience through luxury pricing, social media virality, and mass-production. The bar’s popularity skyrocketed in 2024 after influencers posted videos on TikTok showing the satisfying “snap” of the chocolate and the vibrant green filling. The visually appealing and audibly crunchy nature of the product was perfectly suited for the platform, driving demand.
But why should we care about the gentrification of these foods? The pattern illustrates the power imbalance in global food culture, where non-Western ingredients are legitimized and popularized only after they are appropriated and rebranded within a high-end, westernized, luxury product that erases the long-felt appreciation of the ingredient for its tradition within its native regions. The westernization of these foods focuses on mass production to appeal to the masses as if it were a new and improved toy, instead of focusing on authenticity. Price increases and limited supply prohibit families from being able to afford the foods from their cultures, which seems a very high price to pay.
