Queering food and other snacks
Reflections on wildish hunger, The Queer Food Conference and Edinburgh's Falastin Film Festival
This month, my posts are planned as the following; please sign up for a paid subscription if you wish to view them all:
Memorable Meals: A kink for vanilla
Free post: Queering food and other snacks
Recipes for volunteering: Resisting the potluck aubergine recipe!
Amuse me! Dating an dining with a bot, and a Potluck Playlist for non-bots
May was been an incredibly busy month for me as I have undertaken a lot of holiday work cover, as well as freelance and volunteer projects (including Falastin Film Festival).
I have much to pack into this week’s post, so let’s get going…
Plate 1: Thoughts on Hunger
This time last year, I was ending a restrictive diet as part of The Wildbiome Project. Therefore I've been thinking more about hunger and the contrast of my experience with those who are purposefully on Hunger Strike in Edinburgh.
Citizens outside the Scottish Parliament Gaza Solidarity Camp and students in the University camp have been striking in physical solidarity with Gaza1 and as a call to action for the Scottish Government and also for Edinburgh University to divest its £55 million of investments in companies that are complicit in genocide.
Generally, the recommended daily calorie intake in the U.K. is 2,000 - 2,500 calories. Some participants were eating 245 calories a day, which matches the average amount of calories that citizens in northern Gaza have been consuming. One participant in Edinburgh was eating mainly rye bread and dates. For context, a Palestinian date is approximately 90 calories, while 100g of rye bread may typically be around 260 calories. Last week, one of the hunger strikers entered their 25th day of a hunger strike and commented that there has still been no response from the Scottish First Minister.
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In contrast, last May I chose to eat only wild food for month as I participated in The Wildbiome Project. This was mainly because of my interest in what my gut microbiome may be before and after the diet, and also because of the cultural and educational experience of the project. Zoe, (a popular gut health app-based start-up business) supported the experiment with free scientific testing and analysis of the results. You may be able to imagine my disappointment when the long-awaited results experiment was broadcast on the Food Programme on BBC Radio, and the weight loss of the participants was promoted as one of the primary outcomes during discussions with Zoe founder Tim Spector.
Resisting this narrative has been complex for me, as I admire the Wildbiome project's founders and had previously held Tim Spector in high regard. My first encounter with his research was listening to the enlightening episode 'Hunting with the Hadza' on BBC's Food Chain programme. I realise more and more, though, how, to be true to myself, my values, and the training I have had to think critically, I have had to reject many of the learnings or assumptions that set me off on my food research journey. As mentioned last month, I am trying to choose my gurus more wisely.
I've been the slimmest at prior times in my life (20's & 30's) where I had lost my appetite due to using anti-depressants. Therefore, I have no desire to promote projects or apps that may lead to disordered eating. Weight loss is not an indication of health. During the Wildbiome diet, I lost weight because I ate much fewer calories than usual; in essence, I had no carbs or sugar. Although I enjoyed my foraged diet experience, learnt a lot and was pleasantly surprised at how high my energy levels were during the month, I’m not surprised I lost weight so quickly; I was very hungry at times.
Unfortunately I never got to find out the difference to my gut microbiome as my second sample appeared to have got lost (either in the post or the lab!), but I was pleased with gut diversity my results from the initial sample (taken prior to the diet).
Unlearning is an integral part of learning, and I've found a lot of pleasure and relief doing this recently while listening to Maintenance Phase hosted by presenters Aubrey Gordon and Michael Hobbes. If, like me, as a nerd, you enjoyed Celine Nguyen's recent post on research as leisure activity, I expect you may enjoy Maintenace Phase, for it is ‘rogue research’ in its purest form; a delightfully queer combination of joy, combined with facts and scandal, as Aubrey and Michael fall down the rabbit hole on their quest for the truth behind myths on wellness trends and diet culture.
Plate 2: Queering Food
At the end of April, I attended the (hybrid) Queer Food Conference in Boston. I took so many notes during some of these sessions, but here are a few reflections I'd like to pass on while it's still relatively fresh in my thoughts.
Maybe it is the specific time we are in, a moment for a real need for clarity and solidarity, but this is the first time I have attended an academic conference where, in discussion, participants have spoken very openly about the challenges and trauma incurred while of pursuing intersectional and interdisciplinary research work within the confines of the academy.
Viewing online from home in Scotland, to me the word 'academy' stirs up connotations of a more elite and 'spangled' experience than within the institutions I am accustomed to in the U.K. The word academy makes me think of both authority and of merit. Although shuddering at the word ‘authority’, as I think of the authoritarian violence with which students in the U.S. are being treated whilst in quiet protest, I was impressed with the authority in which presenters at the conference spoke.
I was dazzled by how articulate and wise I found the contributors at the sessions I attended regardless of their academic experience, from undergraduates such as Sasha's research on feeding radical love through commensality2, to Tristian and Tig's discussions on the benefits and difficulties of intentional research bias when exploring queer farming communities within a sociology framework, and Professor of anthropology3 Yamuna's reflections on how it may be helpful to the view the intersections of food as both a craft discipline and as an interdisciplinary studies programme, in the way that we view fine art alongside the history of art or the study of aesthetics; or musicianship alongside musicology.
In a panel on queering food media (with Alma Avalle, Max Falkowitz, Jaya Saxena, Chala June, and Leo Kirts), there were brilliant discussions on a need to transcend the categories and binaries of food media to do truly transformative work which honours collective liberation. With the current challenges for writers whether embedded as staff writers in prestige publications or those who are precariously freelance, there is a need and a want to establish new publishing models, such as workers' cooperatives, to improve conditions for food media and food writing, from the legal structures and benefits of the workers (including suitable health insurance policies for queer and trans workers, and unionisation) to the commissioning process and the breadth of work which is published. Though often food writing can centre food/restuarant trends and popular culture there is desire to publish more work that takes risks to produce informative and investigative food system work that transcends existing narratives and hierarchies and pushes the boundaries of dominant publishing norms.
Towards the end of the sessions, Yamuna and others commented that this conference had a special 'vibe'—something unique. Despite being devoid of the scent, sight, and taste of the prolific food surrounding the conference (both on campusand at sattelite events), I could get a taste of this feeling. As a online viewer it’s fair to some of the joy, conviviality, and debate (let’s be cheesy and say 'social intercourse') was personally lacking for me due to the hybrid nature of the event, but I was aware I could feel some of this nourishment through the laptop screen.
It is reassuring and encouraging that there is a hunger for change amongst my kind of people. Not only hunger, but the knowledge and means to begin to organise ourselves to take these actions for a better future.
Plate 3: Falastin Film Festival
It would be deeply remiss of me not to briefly describe some of my experiences while volunteering on reception at Falastin Film Festival throughout it’s weekend. Here are my stream-of-consciousness memories I noted as I collapsed into bed at the end of a long weekend:
Dishing up green olives and glistening swollen yellow chillis from Amana Food// hooking Alyssa up with jars and scobies from Ruth from Edinburgh Fermentarium to make watermelon/mint kombucha for Malak Mattar’s exhibition opening night// wedging the lift door open with a foot, as we bring down flowers for setting up banquet tables// telling both silly and vital stories// selling merch// discussing the symbolism and political significance of watermelons// watching a fellow volunteer hold faces of their loved ones tenderly, in cupped hands// over-analysing the menu at the Scottish Storytelling Centre (veggie haggis, soups served with oatcakes, ice cream, breakfast bacon rolls)// talking about queer film screenings in Scotland// witnessing the pain of a soft but strong bear hug fall away into tears// sharing Palestinian film database resources4 // being stunned but not surprised at the popularity of Foragers// learning a few more words and sounds in Arabic// watching Amreeka and laughing about migrant cucumbers and feeling grief about tins of biscuits.
Reflecting on intimacy, grief and community.
![A poster for Falastin Film Festival saying 'sold out'; The room set for the Palestinian meal; Palestinian olives and chillies in small white bowls with cocktail sticks.](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5a4d89a6-5549-4d10-a5f2-2b2aaa65827c_4032x3024.jpeg)
![A poster for Falastin Film Festival saying 'sold out'; The room set for the Palestinian meal; Palestinian olives and chillies in small white bowls with cocktail sticks.](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5ed40e31-2874-4448-921d-50e6b359ef89_4032x3024.jpeg)
![A poster for Falastin Film Festival saying 'sold out'; The room set for the Palestinian meal; Palestinian olives and chillies in small white bowls with cocktail sticks.](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_474,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fefdef749-e4fa-4af3-9600-6e2fa38996ab_509x509.jpeg)
It was a very special festival; I wouldn't hesitate to be involved again. Like the Queer Food Conference, the atmosphere was unique, in this case a tenderness which is difficult to convey without experiencing it in community. I am so grateful for the vision and tenacity of the organisers combined with the knowledge and means from the festival sponsors/supporters to unite people in solidarity to take action in telling stories of a past, present and future Palestine. A better future; a free Palestine.
And finally…
In tinued tenderness, here’s my poem from the Queer Food Conference Cookbook. I shared this link with paid subscribers last month, but I wanted to share it more boradly and with pride.It’s very personal and just full of very real moments of laughter, intimacy (platonic and otherwise), resistance, and if you know me or get the references…deep, deep joy!!
A Queerish Recipe
Every day my food gets a little queerer
The fun guy changes from
ingredient to shapeshifter to network; family
we experiment with new methods
of being, living
to whisk with a flourish.
Sometimes, we maybe laugh too hard about the dude-bros of fermentation as we…
smile and nod, smile and nod uncompromising,
as checkouts beep, cards get swiped and creepers creep; pretending it’s play.
It does n’t matter what we cook, just that we still keep on cooking; feeding each other
a pinch of salt; a touch of spice, sweet enough
though soured by spicy.
We taste to test, change, learn, fail, try again, unlearn
knead and need; raise each other up;
nurture like sourdough.
Crowdsource a poem…maybe it's about…
pomegranates?!
Send nooooooodles;
allow the flesh to rest.
We gossip, pass on and adapt these recipes;
for every day my food tastes a little queerer...
In late-April 2024, the World Food Programme (WFP) stated half of Gaza's population is starving. At the end of May 2024, the United Nations stated that humanitarian aid deliveries had dropped 67 percent since the start of Israel's Rafah offensive at the beginning of the month.The WFP stated it was unable to feed most civilians in Rafah and described conditions as "apocalyptic".
Queer pot lucks as a mean of building commnuity/solidarity networks were a very common theme at the conference! I love potlucks, but sometimes feel overwhelmed by the expectations of labour!
Here’s a fun ‘rogue research rabbit holefact: Not only is Yamuna Sangarasivam a Professor of Anthropology and Women & Gender Studies, she also starred in Michael Jackson’s video for Black and White during the Odissi dance!
Here's the archive index of Palestinian films. I will be sharing a food-related version in due course.