nosh
Food & Justice
I
Fisher Theatre • March 14–19
Aaron Egan
ticketmaster.com, 800-982-2787 & box office.
Info: BroadwayInDetroit.com, 313-872-1000.
Groups (10+): Groups@BroadwayInDetroit.com or 313-871-1132.
2148120
2 YEAR SUBSCRIPTION
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118
$
Call to Subs cribe:
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Offer applies to in-state subscriptions only. This offer is only valid during
the month of February. Can be used for new subscriptions or renewals.
2134890
44
February 16 • 2017
jn
’m not here to give you a specific restaurant recommen-
dation this week; I’d rather like to address a larger issue in
the food world, if I may be so bold.
Food and politics, some say, should not mix. A quiet family
dinner is often spoiled by discussions of elections, policies
and conflicting approaches to governance. Better to stay
quiet and enjoy the meal, some would say, than to ruin it all
by stating strongly something you believe.
Looking back, however, we see that politics has always
been intimately involved with food: from feudal lords receiv-
ing their rents in the form of crops and livestock to govern-
ment rationing supplies in times of scarcity, the decision of
who eats and who doesn’t is one of the most political there
is. We even use the phrase “a seat at the table” to imply par-
ticipation in the political process.
Food is a lever for social change; it has to be. We cannot
survive, as a society or as a species, without it. We cannot
repair the world — among our guiding principles as Jews —
without attending to the hungry among us, nor can we create
true justice without looking at who feeds us and who profits
from it. We cannot hold a seder without inviting all who are
hungry to come and eat, and we must understand the greater
implications of that literal and metaphorical statement.
Last month, I had the privilege of attending a panel at
the Urban Consulate in Detroit discussing the questions of
race, privilege and cultural ownership of food. The place was
packed to the rafters — people sat on the stairs and stood
on the upstairs landing just to hear this admittedly fraught
and uncomfortable topic frankly and forthrightly discussed.
While not all the questions raised were answered, some very
particular things stuck out to me, and I think they merit con-
sideration:
Why does an industry built on the backs of hard workers
from across the world benefit so few of those same people? As
many articles and books have discussed, the immigrant com-
munity is heavily represented in the kitchens of America, and
yet few of these immigrants rise to ownership levels.
Why, when they do, is their food so often considered low-
class, low-rent or cheap? Why isn’t there a larger segment of
the restaurant market dedicated to fine dining approaches to
traditionally “cheap” meals? Why do we expect a shawarma
wrap or a taco to cost us a couple bucks, but pay top dollar for
a plate of handmade pasta with rustic sauce?
Why does the identity of the person cooking the food so
frequently dictate the price at which it’s sold? Why does the
barbecue in one restaurant cost three times as much as the
same plate in another establishment?
Why does the food media fetishize the fusion plate but not
the original recipe? What is the difference between the food I
make and the food my great-grandmother made, other than
time and place?
I don’t have many answers. The only way we can fix this,
my friends, is to eat more food from more places and learn to
value cuisines that others might ignore.•