Food Across Borders edited by Matt Garcia, E. Melanie DuPuis, and Don Mitchell is one of those books that called to me from the Amazon algorithm for some time. Yes, it was partly the cover - a bright yellow with curving chili peppers in a reddish orange - calling to the vibrant flavors and colors of spices. But, it also called to me by reminding me to read about food not merely in the form of "junk" reading (a la junk food) but also in the deep seriousness of how food is and expresses and challenges our politics. And, of course, by evoking the notion of borders - the title accomplished a lot. As the back of the book notes, "The act of eating defines and redefines borders." And here, I suspected before purchasing and reading it were evocations of Mary Douglas, of Cherrie Moraga, and perhaps more.
I was right. This is a fascinating book - which like only a very few collections these days, is more than the sum of its parts. It challenges any separation of individual and community, any simple notion of globalism or localism, and any solid expectation of where exactly the notion of borders -= and border crossings - matters.
To exemplary instances:
The opening chapter, co-authored by the volume's editors, is a terrific overview of the themes raised in the book - including, I am very happy to say, reference to (and critique of) Mary Douglas. I love the notion of eating as boundary work - sorting out what is and what is not "me." And yes this takes right to the notion of "body politic" in which the movement of food and footways across the world both sets and challenges boundaries, national and otherwise. As we all know from the movement of potatoes to Ireland, chilis to the entire world, and etcetera, such movement is both a historical and a contemporary phenomenon. Loads of folks I know think the potato's origins were in Ireland (nope - South America) and the chili Indian (nope, also western hemisphere) and that curry is limited to Indian food (no, no, no.) As the chapter makes evident, food memories definitely play multiple roles - and they both expand and constrain horizons, literally and figuratively.
And, a chapter entitled "Bittersweet: Food, Gender and the State in the U.S. and Canadian Wests during World War I," intrigued me enough to have it reproduced and sent along to my partner who grew up in a nearby region of the Canadian West. I had not imagined WWI affecting boundaries in North America the way they did. Nor did I really imagine it was gendered, though once I gave it .05 seconds thought that was. . . obvious. The chapter made me think of various generations of mothers and grandmothers I have known - and their experiences of war, whether "at home" or elsewhere.
I suppose this all sounds vague. There are other chapters about Latino footways and Blackfeet, about the "global quinoa boom" (yes, I remember the before times), and about whiteness and Mexican cooking. Nothing about this book is, in fact, vague. The details tell a larger and dynamic story. And, it is worth a read.