BLACK CULINARY CULTURE IN MUSEUMS AROUND THE WORLD

  Musings Abroad | Jingshu Helen Yao

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February is Black History Month. As a member outside of this community, I looked into different approaches to learn about black histories and cultures. Food is often a window to look into the relationship within or between communities.

 

Soul Food |iStock

In a paper where researcher Camille Bégin discussed the changes in writing about black food culture, Bégin pointed out that early culinary descriptions were used to reinforce stereotypical views and racialize African American communities. The image of black mammy cooking, a racial caricature of African American women, became a comfort for many during the great depression. This image is not an accurate representation of African American women and in some ways represents a negative stereotype. Regardless, with industrialization and social change, African American food has become a major part of cuisine in the southern United States.

Suya | flickr

Though soul food is the most well-known representation of African American cuisine, black food culture goes far beyond that. The Museum of Food and Drinks (MOFAD) in New York City focused on the culinary history of African Americans when putting together the exhibition “African/American: Making the Nation's Table”. One of the exhibition’s highlights was the “Legacy Quilt”, a quilt that stands 14 feet tall, spans 30 feet wide, and contains 406 blocks, each devoted to an individual who contributed to African American cuisine. The Ebony Test Kitchen, which was located at the headquarters for Johnson Publishing Company, was used as the test kitchen for Ebony Magazine’s food column. MOFAD acquired the kitchen set and recreated it as a tribute to the innovation of Ebony Magazine, which was known for challenging stereotypes and contributing to the evolution of African American cuisine. In addition to these objects, “African/American: Making the Nation's Table” featured a unique taste testing experience. Shoebox lunch was the food migrants stored for their trip during the Great Migration, which was an evolutionary period in African American history. Their food symbolizes the establishment of African American communities across the United States and the African American identity.

MOFAD "African/American: Making the Nation's Table” | Colorline

The global pandemic might have prevented us from traveling to exhibits and dining outside of our homes. However, there are other ways that we can learn about and appreciate black food culture. Dine Diaspora, an agency who introduces and expands the influence of African food culture around the world, has great resources on their website. 31 Days of Black Women in Food is an annual award by Dine Diaspora that celebrates the achievements of black women in the food and beverage industry. During the past 4 years, the organization has told different stories of hundreds of individuals through food. The nomination for 2021 award is currently in progress. Black stories and culture continue to endure through new culinary adventures. 

MIGRANT AGRICULTURAL WORKERS' RIGHTS

A Muse Bouche | Dominica Tang and Lindsay Chisholm

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Our previous article, “The Museum In My Kitchen: Trying WWI Recipes,” centered on the role of food in museums during a pandemic, specifically within the context of food shortages in Canada. We explained that the rise in food shortages in Canada were brought on in part by the travel ban that prevented many agricultural migrant workers from entering the country. Agricultural migrant workers have since begun work on farms again, but that does not mean our food industry should return to business as usual. Many Canadian farmers violated the basic rights of these workers, and continue to do so. This has only worsened during the pandemic. Although discussions of these human rights problems are only now becoming dinner table conversations in many Canadian homes, these issues are endemic to Canada’s colonial structures and have occurred for generations.

Fresh produce at a grocery store. Source. 

European settlers in Canada have been exploiting people of colour for cheap labour since the late 1800’s. According to the Royal BC’s Museum research project on “Ethnic Agricultural Labour,” the workers were Indigenous, Chinese, Japanese, Doukhobor, and Portuguese. Today the agricultural sector is heavily dependent on seasonal migrant workers, mostly from countries in the Caribbean and Mexico, through the Seasonal Agricultural Workers Program (SAWP) and the Temporary Foreign Worker Program. The agricultural industry is labour intensive and requires highly skilled workers. In the bee keeping sector, for example, one must have the ability to identify the queen among tens of thousand of worker bees and detect mite infestation. A day’s work can consist of long hours, working with dangerous machinery, and under difficult climatic conditions. Workers must adhere to these strenuous working situations with inadequate pay. Living conditions on these properties are no better. They are often cramped, dirty, and receive little ventilation. The authors of “Canada jeopardizes migrant workers amid pandemic,” likens these conditions to an “open-air prison.” The sordid living and working conditions have become a hotbed for the rapid spread of the virus. Given the cramped conditions, workers cannot quarantine or work while social-distancing. Consequently, there are three reported deaths and hundreds of new COVID-19 cases springing up within these farms. Recently, the Nature Fresh farm in Ontario has shut down due to an outbreak of COVID-19. This situation truly speaks to the inadequacy of Canada's food infrastructure. Graeme McKay put it best in their editorial cartoon: "Covid grows in Ontario."



Currently, there are no formal structures in place, either in the programs that bring workers to the farms or in the federal government, that effectively hold these employers accountable for the mistreatment of their workers. Additionally, migrant workers have very few rights to express concern as they are not permanent residents. Their unstable and uncertain status with lack of ability to unionize, makes them vulnerable to exploitation by their employers. The work permit visa stipulates that migrant workers may only be affiliated with one employer per temporary residency contract term. Since they are tied to one employer, speaking out against them would risk their deportation.

The mistreatment and exploitation of migrant workers is inherently racist, and a violation of their human rights. Additionally, some Canadians felt emboldened by COVID-19 to express their racism more explicitly through racial profiling, barring these workers from entering shops, and surveilling them. To document the completion of the self-isolation period for individuals who have recently arrived in Canada, The Haldimand-Norfolk Health Unit created identification cards. However, the health unit only distributed the cards to migrant agricultural workers and have since discontinued the cards. The association of plague with racialized bodies is not a novel phenomenon in the discourses of white supremacy. Recall just earlier this year when many attacked Chinese people — both verbally and physically — and vilified their food, because some scientists speculated that COVID-19 originated from wet markets in Wuhan, China. Mainstream culture treats racialized bodies as if they are “a risk, rather than at risk.”

A banner for migrant workers rights at the May Day of Action rally. Source. 

Museums, such as the Canadian Museum of Human Rights and the Royal BC Museum, have researched and exhibited these issues to some extent, but museums are more connected to migrant workers than in the collection of migrant workers’ oral histories or in educating their publics on the injustices that these workers face. Many museums offer food programming or provide food services, making them part of the food supply chain where they likely benefit from the labour of migrant agricultural workers. As part of the food supply chain, and as cultural institutions, museums should practice ethical food consumption. Indeed, museums have discussed ethical food consumption practices in the past and there is already a responsible procurement policy published in A Sustainable Development Guide for Canada’s Museum Food.  However, museums, as cultural institutions who are beholden to their publics, ought to take a more active and outward stance. Jordan Fee opined, in “‘Where Does This Come From?’: Pondering Provenance In The Global Supply Chain,” that the food industry ought to take a page from museum’s collection policies on provenance, but perhaps there is mutual learning to be had. Food provenance can persuade consumers to stop purchasing from unethical businesses, such as the farmers who are guilty of exploiting and discriminating against migrant agricultural workers, and demand that guilty farmers be held accountable and regulations be put in place to ensure worker's rights are upheld. This approach is already taking place in the museum's collections as seen in the repatriation of stolen objects, but museums ought to dissolve that silo-mentality and investigate other parts of the museum as well. If only abandoning the practice of stealing artifacts is not good enough, then only halting business with farms that violate human rights is not sufficient either.

As individuals, what we collect and ingest must follow these same standards. This is a time of introspection. Are the foods you consume ethically sourced? How are you supporting migrant agricultural workers? Armando Perla's chapter "Representing Agricultural Migrant Workers in the Canadian Museum of Human Rights," in The Idea of a Human Rights Museum, underscores that while some farmers- typically those who own larger farms- are the ones violating the worker's basic rights, the Canadian "government's inactivity has allowed the perpetuation of a system that discriminates against and exploits foreign workers without any accountability." As such, we ought to hold our government accountable for their inaction and for upholding  these oppressive systems. You can sign the Migrant Rights Network’s petition to call on federal, provincial, and municipal leaders to provide migrant workers with health care, with worker’s protection, and to grant them permanent resident status.

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THE MUSEUM IN MY KITCHEN: TRYING WWI RECIPES

A Muse Bouche | Dominica Tang and Lindsay Chisholm

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The National WWI Museum and Memorial launched the online exhibition “War Front: From the Home Front to the Front Lines,” in 2014. To compliment the exhibit, it features a 1918 cookbook entitled “Win the War in the Kitchen,” and invites the audience to re-create war-time recipes. With the support of the Woodrow Wilson government, the United States Food Administration originally published this cookbook to further inspire women to “take up arms” and mobilize certain skills on the homefront.

                 

National WWI Museum and Memorial in Kansas City, United States. Source.

Blogs and news outlets have rediscovered this exhibit to provide the public with ideas on how to adapt their meals to the increased food shortages and to support their audience emotionally during this time of extreme stress. The increase of food shortages are brought on by mass hoarding of resources and a shortfall of agricultural labourers. The exhibit is finding relevance and purpose in a COVID-19 context, and we aim to find what new meanings have emerged because of it and the differences between cooking historic recipes in the museum and our homes. Lindsay and I chose two recipes to make and eat with our families at home and shared our experiences with each other.

Dominica: I chose to make potato bread and poultry with peas because their flavours were complementary. They also shared quite a few ingredients, which kept my grocery list nice and short.

Potato Bread  [Left] and a Poultry with Peas dish [Right]. Photographs courtesy of Dominica Tang. 

Lindsay: I made a scalloped cabbage dish and a tomato and bean stew, akin to a “Meatless Monday” menu. The United States became a major contributor for food supplies for the frontline when they joined the war. Meat consumption was restricted on the home front so that the meat could be exported for the frontline.

Scalloped Cabbage dish [left] and Tomato and Bean Stew [Right]. Photographs courtesy of Lindsay Chisholm.

Dominica: My family had trouble purchasing fresh meat, especially at the beginning of the lockdown. The number of dairy products that customers can purchase are also being limited in many grocery stores. So how did you find cooking and eating these dishes?

Lindsay: My prior experience in museology and food stems from the realm of edible archaeology. The key to unearthing stories from the past is through the systematic study of the archaeological record. It was this mindset that restricted any creative decision-making during cooking. It took every morsel of my being not to doctor up these recipes and alter the steps of seasoning to retain historical credibility. The lack of aromatics [onions, garlic, and herbs] made the food bland. For instance, without browning your butter first, it lacks a nutty richness and a pleasant aroma. This blandness may be accredited to the food shortages during the war. Did you have similar sensory issues?

Lindsay put on a cute, frilly apron for the occasion! Photograph courtesy of Lindsay Chisholm.

Dominica:  I actually used the recipe more as an inspiration than as a strict guide and as such, I took a creative licence in “recreating” the historic recipes. To the poultry and peas recipe, I added MSG, bacon, parsley, and garlic to add more flavour and colour. Both recipes called for bacon fat, so it made economical sense to also add the meat and not waste it. The mashed potato kept the bread wonderfully moist and fluffy, but the bread was extremely bland. I generously coated each slice with salted butter.

Slices of potato bread toast paired with a hot cup of coffee. Photograph courtesy of Dominica Tang.

Lindsay: Did you find your cooking was drastically altered when experimenting in your at-home kitchen rather than within a historic kitchen at a house museum?

Dominica: Yes! I have made potato bread before from a 19th century recipe in Mackenzie House’s historic kitchen, where I bake in a wood-fired iron stove and followed the recipe to a tee. An unofficial exception of the museum and our visitors was to recreate the recipe as accurately as possible. At home, I was free to incorporate and accommodate for my personal tastes and my family’s dietary preferences. My family was more interested in trying something new, rather than sampling food from a specific historic period. All the extra ingredients were still historically accurate to the period and location, MSG can be found naturally in products like cheese, and cooks have always altered their recipes to suit their diners.

Dominica's potato bread loaf in the historic oven at Mackenzie House museum [Left]. The bread tasted delicious with a bit of butter, jam, and marmalade [Right]. Photograph courtesy of Dominica Tang. 

Lindsay: That’s very true. By tracing histories from the past through food, we can make similar comparisons between how we examine recipes of the early 20th century to that from ancient societies. In “Win the War in the Kitchen” and Roman culinary sources, like Apicius, both lack detailed information on measurements, amounts of foodstuffs, and cooking times. The writers expected the audience to be experts in their field who would have taken liberties with their art. Dominica, you interpreted the record like a chef from the past by adding your own fixings! We were both able to incorporate museum based-programming for at home use. It is through creativity and connection that a person can figuratively leave the confines of their home isolation and be transported into a past world of exploration.

Digitizing and sharing these historic recipes with the public gives the audience control over their edible museum experience and provides access to them when people need it most. We chose to write about “Win the War in the Kitchen,” because it became a COVID-19 relevant project through public interest instead of the museum's. People are interested in museum programming that distracts them but also helps make sense of the world. Being a community-centered museum and appealing to an audience during COVID-19 goes beyond providing online education, entertainment, and emotional support. In times of crisis, museums should, as Nina Simon argues, serve the needs of people who are most vulnerable to the social, mental, and physical consequences of the pandemic. The Brooklyn Museum, for example, partnered with Campaign Against Hunger and donated their parking space to serve as a free food-pick up site. Will museums continue this type of community work in a post-lockdown world? We sure hope so.

WHY FOOD?: AN INVESTIGATION INTO PASSION AND INTEREST

A Muse Bouche | Jordan Fee

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As I close in on the end of my term as Co-Editor-in-Chief of Musings, I am beginning to reflect on just what it is about food that fascinates me. Over the course of the past two years, my thoughts and opinions on the relationship between food and museums have varied greatly. Now, at the end of my time in the Museum Studies program, I am struggling to understand how I might go on preaching about the social, political and educational value of food to groups of people who might not share the same degree of passion and interest.

When I began thinking about food and museums, it was mainly on a sensory level. While museums are generally defined by the act of looking – and in some cases, touching – I was fascinated by the concept of a multi-sensory museological experience, one that included senses like smell and taste. Local iSchool Professor Irina Miahalache’s book, Food and Museums, provided me with a great amount of reading material on this subject, and inspired me to consider how individuals outside of the museum, such as chefs and community members, could form new approaches for exhibition and interpretation. Reading about the Southern Food and Beverage Museum (SOFAB) in New Orleans and the ElBulli Foundation in Spain, my eyes were opened to an entirely new mode of thinking.

The Southern Food and Beverage Museum (Source)

Following this initial fascination with multi-sensory museum experiences, I began to notice how the educational aspects of museums can, in some ways, mirror food industry. While working at my job at a local butcher-shop, I had unique interaction with some customers that made me realize that the meanings that we assign to objects in museums are often somewhat arbitrary, and how important it is to let visitors develop their own relationships with these objects without too much intervention.

A local butcher shop in Spain (Source)

Later, I began to consider how contemporary and historic cookbooks could be used as a means for companionship and understanding between individuals, which I would argue is also one of the core tenants of contemporary museology. Since beginning my internship in the Publications department at the Art Gallery of Ontario, I have thought more and more about how art books – those fancy codices that accompany museum exhibitions – resemble cook books in their format and content. Since then,  I have since learned about companies like Figure 1 Publishing, a firm based in Vancouver which designs cook books and art books exclusively.

If you’ve read some of the more recent articles that I’ve published on Musings, you’ll have seen that my focus has not necessarily been on how to get food into the museum. There are already many individuals working hard to accomplish this task. Rather, I have been trying to show how food and reflect all aspects of our culture, from generational knowledge, to intangible heritage.

Of course, this is not to say that I don’t want to see a more literal crossover between food and museums. In my opinion, some of the most interesting museum displays in the world are food-related, such as Julia Child’s kitchen at the Smithsonian Institute’s National Museum for American History. Furthermore, I believe that art can serve food in the way that it challenges our modes of perception and thinking about the world around us. 

Julia Childs Kitchen in the Smithsonian Museum of American History (Source)

Ultimately, I believe that food and museums are important to me because they point outwards. When I serve food to my friends, I am thinking not only of what is on a plate, but also about where this food came from, how it got to me, and who was affected by this process. This is something that I find myself doing whenever I am strolling around a museum; wondering where these objects came from, how they got there, and who might have played a part in this process. Unfortunately in both cases, the process may or may not be very clear, and sometimes, many individuals have been taken advantage of along the way. Still, I can’t help but seeing food and museums as vast networks of connections and relationships that extend across the globe.

While it may be cliché to say, many of us today are stuck in a culture of self-gratification. I, myself am implicated in this. However, I believe that both food and museums force us to look outwards, into the world around us, and understand that we form part of something larger. When you look at an object in a museum, try to think about all of the other objects that were not put on display, or that were sent to a different museum by a different collector. When you eat a piece of food, try to not only think about how it might taste, but also about all of the people who made it so. Focus not only on what is present, but also on what is absent. In this way, we can all become more empathetic towards both people and objects, which can only help us to become better professionals.

CULTURE(D): FOOD, MICROBIOLOGY AND INTANGIBLE HERITAGE

A Muse Bouche | Jordan Fee

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Since it has been a recurring topic in my past two articles, I thought it best to write my final piece for this semester on how some producers and distributors of food can function in similar ways to cultural institutions. However, while my last two articles dealt with the inherently human side of this question, my article today will be centred on something different, and quite microscopic: namely, bacteria.

One of the most popular topics in the world of food today is fermentation. While entire books have been written on this topic, fermentation can be defined simply as a biochemical process where certain compounds – sugars, in most cases – are broken down in an environment that is anaerobic (ie. free of oxygen). Fermentation is the process that produces alcoholic beverages such as wine and beer, but it is also integral to the production of dried meat products, as well as things like tofu, soya sauce and kombucha.

Chocolate is also fermented product! Here are some fermenting cocoa beans. (Source.)

So how exactly does the process of fermentation begin? Generally, there are two ways: one is to add what is known as starter culture to the mixture, which is essentially packaged bacteria that will help kickstart the process. The other, more traditional method is to let the mixture become inoculated with the natural yeasts and bacteria that exist in the air around us, which can be referred to as a low-intervention method. 

In either case, when the mixture is inoculated with these bacteria, it is referred to as being cultured. This open-access study, published in Frontiers in Microbiology, defines the distinction between two kinds of culture (ie. the one that we generally refer to in museums and the other microbial kind) as such:

"Every community in the world has distinct food culture including fermented foods and alcoholic beverages, symbolizing the heritage and socio-cultural aspects of the ethnicity. The word “culture” denotes food habits of ethnicity; another meaning for the same word “culture” is a cluster of microbial cells or inoculum, an essential biota for fermentation, often used in the microbiology."

These days, cultural institutions around the world are becoming more and more concerned with what is referred to as intangible cultural heritage. A fellow writer for A Muse Bouche wrote in 2018 about this topic in relation to the cultural practice of saving seeds, emphasizing how it sustains the traditions and memories of communities across the world. According to the website for the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO):

“Cultural heritage does not end at monuments and collections of objects. It also includes traditions or living expressions inherited from our ancestors and passed on to our descendants, such as oral traditions, performing arts, social practices, rituals, festive events, knowledge and practices concerning nature and the universe or the knowledge and skills to produce traditional crafts.”

While this definition certainly covers a broad range of cultural practices, is it possible that this emphasis on intangible cultural heritage could be taken one step further, into the microscopic realm? Currently, UNESCO lists over 15 food-related practices on its list of intangible cultural heritage. While some, like the Washoku diet in Japan, are related to the spiritual beliefs of a particular culture, there are other traditions that require micro-biotic activity as well. Kimchi, for example, is a fermented cabbage product that is traditional to both North and South Korea. Each year, many communities come together in what is known as the Kimjang where kimchi is produced en masse in autumn to prepare for the harsh winter.

Portioning Kimchi at a Kimjang celebration in Seoul, South Korea. (Source.)

According to the report linked earlier, Kimchi has been found to contain up to 17 different kinds of bacteria, and several other kinds of naturally-occurring yeasts. Each of these microscopic organisms contributes to the development of flavour and texture in the kimchi, breaking down the contents into a sweet, spicy, funky and tangy product (can you tell that I like kimchi?)

In any case, what I find so fascinating about this tradition is that it relies on both kinds of culture. The participants in Kimjang help to form the macroscopic culture that we in museums know so well, while the bacteria form the microscopic culture that helps to produce these unique food products that help to define a particular country, region or town.

In a lecture published in 2015, David Chang – owner of the Momofuku restaurant group and star of Netflix’s Ugly Delicious – spoke on what he referred to as “microbial terroir”. The word terroir is used most commonly to describe the characteristics of wine, generally in relation to the soil that the grapevines are grown in. However, in this lecture, Chang makes the argument that this terroir – the unique set of geographic characteristics that determine the taste of foods around the world – exists on a scale that is invisible to the human eye.

While I won’t get too far into it, Chang highlights two different kinds of yeasts – aspergillus orzyae and pichia. He speaks about how the former (which is also known as koji) is traditionally used in Japan to create products like soya sauce. He then goes on to tell a story about how, in an attempt to inoculate a certain food product with koji, he actually ended up producing a different kind, the aforementioned pichia. This led to the realization that because he was in New York, "using New York ingredients in New York air", that the naturally occurring yeast would of course be different from the ones that occur naturally in places like Japan. This essentially means that each region in the world has its own microscopic culture that is unique. This variation is also reflected in the article published in Frontiers of Microbiology!

It it would of course be difficult to officially designate these yeasts and bacteria as manifestations of intangible heritage. Still, I think it is something very interesting to think about. Museums today are having to readjust their practices to allow for new modes of cultural expression, and I believe that these microscopic cultures should be included in that discussion, even if it is only theoretical.

To quote Stuart Hall: ““theory is always a detour on the way to something more important.”

"WHERE DOES THIS COME FROM?": PONDERING PROVENANCE IN THE GLOBAL SUPPLY CHAIN

A Muse Bouche | Jordan Fee

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Whether you’re a visitor seeing a new object or a collections assistant assessing a donation, there is one universal question being asked by all: where does this thing come from? Of course, the first question might be “What is this thing?”, but that is often quickly resolved by a two-second glance at the accompanying label or conditions report. The question of origin, on the other hand, is sometimes more difficult to answer. Questions of war, colonization, economic hardship, political and even familial disruption can all play a role in determining the provenance of an artefact, and in some cases the provenance of a particular object might be entirely unknown.

(Source)

I’ve been thinking lately about the ways in which restaurants resemble museums. I mentioned in one of my last article's that the theatricality of the restaurant can in some cases play out in a manner that is similar to the movement of visitors and staff through a museum. Increasingly, chefs and restauranteurs are also seeking ways to be more socially engaged with the communities that they serve, much like museums. Although it may not be a priority for every restaurant, social engagement is now part of what people serve, and who they serve it to.

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For the past few years we have had the priveledge of being a part of Pepperdine's Step Forward Volunteer Day; a day where students, staff, faculty, alumni and friends come together to engage with one another and to serve the community. On behalf of South LA and our community, thank you @pepperdine for all your hard work in weeding, aerating, watering trees and beautifying our walkways! Please check out all the great things they are doing https://buff.ly/2ZQRsDm⠀ .⠀ .⠀ .⠀ #withlovemarketandcafe #conamor #withlovefamily #community #communityprogram #communityspace #communityovercompetition #communityfirst #communitylove #comunidad #comunidadsaludable #dofoodjustice #freeclass #financialfreedom #financialliteracy #financetips #financegoals #finanzas #loveyourcommunity #nonprofit #shoplocal #socialenterprise #california #picounion #LosAngeles #usc #westadams #pepperdine #stepforwardday

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This notion of provenance is yet another way in which restaurants and museums resemble one another. The questions of where and how are becoming, in many people’s minds, equal to the question of what. While these questions are in no way new for museums or restaurants, they are occupying much larger areas of the public discourse surrounding both culture and food. Farmers markets serve as perfect examples of our obsession with food provenance, where each vendor has a specific origin story about their products. Furthermore, knowing that a restaurant serves local produce helps to justify the choices of a consumer, especially in these times, when every decision seems to be characterized by its impact on the planet.

Pike Place Market in Seattle, Washington. (Source)

The provenance of food is oftentimes very difficult to ascertain. As in the case of some museums objects, food provenance can be spotty, and the origins of a particular food item may be somewhat difficult to track down. Furthermore, food fraud – where a low-cost item is intentionally mislabelled to increase its price – is quite common, especially when it comes to fish and other seafood. Due to an extremely complicated supply-chain, some foods are simply difficult to track.

These muddled supply-chains does not only apply to protein-based products like meat or fish. Other items of produce are routinely shipped around the world, often ending up right back where they started. Recently, I read an anecdote in a book titled Burn the Ice: The American Culinary Revolution and its End, where a chef from Oregon had mushrooms shipped from France, only to find out that they had actually been grown in Oregon. What’s more disheartening is that these confusing practices are often done intentionally.

Just a few days ago, Transparency International published a brief overview of corruption in the food supply chain, showing how companies practice general obscurantism in hopes of hiding the origins – and in some cases the biological make-up – of their products. The food chain is rife with shell companies, bribery and corrupted officials, often resulting in a low level of dependency when it comes to the average consumer. Throughout this chain, from beginning to end, people are being taken advantage of, much of the time at the benefit of massive, multinational producers.

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Today is #WorldFoodDay 🥑 . In a globalised world 🌎, food supply chains are often very long and many products travel halfway across the globe before they reach your dinner table. Along this chain, there are various corruption 😡 risks. This World Food Day, we take a look at the many ways #corruption affects this basic human necessity. . It starts at the very origin of food — land. 🌽 #Landcorruption has a huge impact on farming and thus on food security, especially of the communities living on and around the land in question. . But there are numerous corruption risks further down the food supply chain, too. The problem is secrecy. Unscrupulous people are often able to pass off products that aren’t what they say they are along complex supply chains that use 🕵️ shell companies. . Sometimes, food processing companies are able to operate outside the law simply because they are so big and influential, and are protected by their corrupt networks. . Corruption can affect the supply chain in many ways, and often impedes people’s access to proper food 🥕. Strong government institutions are a first step to avoid this, but integrity in global supply chains is the responsibility of private sector companies, too. . Together, they need to ensure that rules and regulations are kept and that information about business practices is made accessible. Transparency is the first step towards accountability and improvement. . Photo by Joao Marcelo Marques on Unsplash.

A post shared by Transparency International (@transparency_international) on Oct 16, 2019 at 9:07am PDT

Although food and agriculture are for-profit industries, I believe that they have just as much of a responsibility to provenance as non-profit institutions. Many people have a strong interest in where their food comes from, the food industry is much further behind than the museum sector. While it is far from complete, the conversation surrounding provenance is taking centre stage in many cultural institutions. Conversely, the notion of provenance in the food industry is mostly relegated to luxury products and fine-dining.

Unfortunately, the fact is that private companies are not held to the same standards as public-facing (and public-serving) institutions like museums. While some individuals, companies and governments are concerned with transparency in the food and agricultural sectors, the desire for clarity is not quite as universal. I would like to believe that the industries surrounding the production, distribution and consumption of food are as commendable as those surrounding the consumption of culture, but it is quite difficult to do so. Governments – and the individuals that comprise them – are often at the behest of massive corporations, many of which actively try to obscure and maintain global inequalities.

As you can probably tell, I am not one for blind optimism. However, writing this article has made me realize that, while provenance is important in both the museum and food sectors, it does not receive the same amount of attention in both. Even though many museums across the globe receive government funding, they are nevertheless seen as spaces for social and cultural reflection. They are hotbeds for questions. Furthermore, the public perception of museums maintains their responsibility towards transparency and social engagement. Restaurants and other food-related businesses are working to be more dependable, but there is still a long way to go.