Shu_Anthony_Thesis_Final

1
DOMADA, TIRAMISU, KURTOSKALACS, KAISEKI, AND HAUTE CUISINE:
THE STRATIFICATION OF CULINARY PRESTIGE
AT EXPO MILANO 2015 AND IN THE MICHELIN GUIDE
By
Anthony F. Shu
A thesis presented in partial fulfillment of the
Requirements for the degree of Bachelor of Arts
Department of Sociology
Princeton University
2016

2
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thank you to the École de Cuisine Alain Ducasse for immersing me in the culinary world
and revealing the potential for academic work within this sphere. Merci à toute l’équipe.
Thank you to Kimberly, Rebecca, and all those at FAO who fostered an understanding of
food systems on an international scale.
Thank you to my parents and all those who helped raise me during the difficult times.
Thank you to all of my friends from home who pushed me to explore and view structures
from an outsider’s perspective.
Thank you to the members of TS who supported me and kept me working hard.
Long live Top Scholar Michael Chang:
http://abclocal.go.com/story?section=news/education&id=8697484
Thank you to everyone at CFN who provided a shelter from the stress of Princeton. I’m
not sure I would have made it through sophomore year without that refuge.
Merci à Aime Terme qui m’a fait découvrir l’haltérophilie, un discipline essential pour
ma santé mentale.
Thank you to all of my friends engaged in this thesis process that pushed me to produce
the best product I could.
Thank you to Dororthy Cann Hamilton and Mitchell Davis for not only supporting my
research on the American pavilion at EXPO but also their willingness to serve as mentors
during my journey into the culinary world.
Thank you to Profs. Rachael Ferguson, Patricia Fernandez-Kelly, and Dalton Conley for
advising my independent work and guiding my path in sociology.
Thank you to Cindy Gibson for running the show.
Thank you to Prof. Lawrence and Cheng for providing an education in statistics.
Thank you to the African-American Studies Department and my peers in the Colloquium
for instilling the importance of fighting inequality and teaching me to view the world
through a critical lens. Thank you for all the food Dionne.
Thank you to IIP, Wellesley-in-Aix and OIP for offering me the opportunity to explore
Europe and garner a range of experiences essential for my culinary and academic
educations.
Thank you to the Class of ’55 Fund for supporting my summer work in Milan.
Shout-out to all the dishwashers.

3
ABSTRACT:
This thesis merges ethnographic work at the 2015 Universal Exposition in Milan with
statistical analysis of the New York City Michelin Guide to explore hierarchies of
cultural wealth. This study examines the distribution, maintenance, and attainment of
culinary prestige, focusing on nation-states as subjects. Ethnographic work revealed
advantages supporting the safeguarding of Western European gastronomic capital while
obstacles limited the mobility of subjugated, raw-product producing nations. Statistical
analysis explored interactions between global economic phenomena and nations’
achievement of culinary prestige as measured by the Michelin guide, but models failed to
return significant results. However, the data hinted at Michelin stars rewarding restaurant
characteristics that were more accessible for restaurants serving wealthier nations’
cuisines.

4
This paper represents my own original work in accordance with University regulations.
Anthony Shu

5
Domada, Tiramisu, Kürtőskalács, Kaiseki, and Haute Cuisine: The Stratification of
Culinary Prestige at EXPO Milano 2015 and in the Michelin Guide 6
THE RESEARCH QUESTION: 6
DEFINING IMPORTANCE: 9
LITERATURE REVIEW: 12
A BRIEF SUMMARY OF FOOD AND TASTE IN SOCIAL SCIENCE: 12
OMNIVIROUSNESS: 14
COSMPOLITANISM: 18
THE STRATIFICATION OF CUISINES: 21
FOOD AND SOFT POWER: 23
CRITICISM AND THE IMPORTANCE OF GASTRONOMIC GUIDES: 25
THE CULTURAL WEALTH OF NATIONS: 27
METHODS: 28
DATA GATHERING METHODS: ETHNOGRAPHY: 28
BASIS FOR ETHNOGRAPHY: 31
DATA GATHERING METHODS: STATISTICAL ANALYSIS: 33
DATA ANALYSIS METHODS: STATISTICAL ANALYSIS: 38
BASIS FOR MIXED METHODS: 40
RESULTS: 42
ETHNOGRAPHY: 42
GASTRODIPLOMACY IN THE DEVELOPING WORLD V. THE DEVELOPED WORLD: 43
ADDRESSING THE THEME “FEEDING THE WORLD”: 55
NEOCOLONIALISM, COCOA, CHOCOLATE, AND COFFEE: 63
STATISTICAL ANALYSIS: DESCRIPTIVE: 66
STATISTICAL ANALYSIS: REGRESSIONS: 78
DISCUSSION: 86
APPENDICES: 92
REFERENCES: 104

6
Domada, Tiramisu, Kürtőskalács, Kaiseki, and Haute Cuisine: The Stratification of
Culinary Prestige at EXPO Milano 2015 and in the Michelin Guide
The Research Question:
A canopy of white leaves interspersing shadow and shining sun hovered overhead
while black grains on a tan walkway extended miles ahead. Stimulation struck the eye of
each instantly, from a gargantuan chili pepper to flashing colored lights pulsating with the
scratches of a live DJ set. Abstract architectural forms punctuated the sky, from a three
story high cage enclosing a walkway of nets to a multi-colored bird sitting comfortably in
a wading pool. I travelled to the 2015 Universal Exposition (EXPO) in Milan, focused on
the theme of “feeding the world,” to study how countries presented their food and
agricultural systems. Then, I discovered numerous reminders of hierarchies and
inequalities embodied in the global food system that a focus for my research. A series of
black and white rectangular structures with the lackluster theme of “cereals and tubers”
stood rigidly across from a rooftop restaurant declaring the superiority of French haute
cuisine and a tradition of grands chefs. Witnessing these disparities, I began to question
what factors dictated a country’s presentation and presence at EXPO. While economic
development provided a clear indicator, I witnessed a range of approaches to food and
agriculture that varied seemingly independently of wealth. For example, The United
Kingdom’s beehive, metal rivets symmetrically arranged into honeycombs that towered
above viewers, focused on scientific achievement rather than culinary prestige, and
Algeria managed a comfortable buffet setting tucked away in the furthest corner of the
site. Therefore, I centered my investigation on questions of cultural capital at the

7
international level, an idea conceptualized as cultural wealth by some sociologists
(Bandelj and Wherry 2011b). During my ethnographic work, my main aim was to
explore the distribution of culinary prestige around the world and understand the factors
influencing these allocations.
Therefore, this study asks not only what cuisines and restaurants have received
global recognition, but explores the reasoning and fallacies behind this international
hierarchy. Suggesting the presence of socially constructed biases in the Michelin Guide
and the EXPO site, this study investigates how the culturally wealthy retain this culinary
privilege. For example, what is the value of gastronomic symbols like wine and cheese,
and can a cuisine ascend while rejecting these traditions? Therefore, this thesis poses two
main questions: what does a hierarchy of cultural wealth and culinary prestige look like
and how is this stratification maintained?
After completing this ethnographic work on a broad, near-global scale, I hoped to
quantify and focus my vast range of observations through another research method. The
Universal Exposition, supposedly an opportunity to celebrate cultures from throughout
the world and address global issues, revealed the stratification of culinary prestige.
Therefore, I decided to explore another institution forwarding values of discovery and
celebrating culinary achievement that has faced accusations of eurocentrism (Ferguson
2008). A gatekeeper of cultural capital, the Michelin Guide focuses international
attention on any institution that receives the highest honor of three stars. Examining the
distribution of recommended, bibbed, or starred Michelin restaurants1 reveals restaurants

1 The Michelin review system is explored further in the methods section

8
competing for recognition. A Michelin dataset compiled from the 2015 guide for New
York City offered four barometers of culinary prestige: the Bib Gourmand, stars, forks
and spoons, and price range. I first analyzed the relationships between these recognitions
and both global and local variables without accounting for interaction effects. I
hypothesized that higher GDPs (per capita) would correspond with a lower likelihood of
receiving a bib, a higher likelihood of receiving a star, higher forks and spoons, and
correspond with higher price ranges. Regarding zip codes, I thought that bibs would be
assigned more often in areas with higher proportions of foreign-born populations and
lower median incomes. I predicted the opposite result for stars, forks and spoons, and
price range. Overall, these predictions pointed to the Bib Gourmand designation
measuring different standards than stars. I expected that economic capital would translate
to culinary prestige and that stars would be restricted to wealthy, traditional culinary
powers.
Informed by themes and observations from my ethnographic work, I then
investigated interactions between global, macro-level phenomena and local observations
in NYC. These interactions include those between a restaurant’s cuisine, the GDP of the
country where the cuisine originates from, and demographics of the restaurant zip code.
Asking how a nation’s economic development affects its cuisine’s presentation and
reception, I predicted that a higher level of economic development would garner leniency
for a nation. For wealthier nations’ cuisines, predictors with negative effects on
recognition would have less effect. However, predictors with positive effects would not
have an increased value since they would be expected from the cuisine. On the other

9
hand, cuisines from countries with low economic development would receive increased
boosts from predictors with positive effects since the eateries would present both novelty
and accepted signs of quality.
Defining Importance:
Cultural wealth, the symbolic value attached to nations and products, has the
potential to challenge purely economic and political theories of global relations and
markets like Wallerstein’s (1974) world-systems theory and classical economics.
Accounting for the desirability of Italian wine v. Chilean wine or the glamorization of
dining at a sushi bar in Japan reveals mechanisms that privilege the economic and
political statuses of some countries and form the policies and business practices of others.
This study shares Bandelj and Wherry’s (2011a:5) approach, “[an] inquiry into the
cultural wealth of nations [that] focuses on cultural objects, narratives, symbols, and
reputations to examine cultural effects on the economy at the macrolevel of analysis.”
Rather than examining individual values like some work in psychology or behavioral
economics, studies of cultural of wealth focus on larger symbolic and cultural
phenomena. For example, studies often engage with ideas of placemaking and tourism on
a nation-wide level (Regnault 2011; Rivera 2011). Emerging economies make up 45% of
tourism’s market share, which accounts for 9% of the global GDP (World Tourism
Organization 2015). This study highlights obstacles to obtaining and activating cultural
wealth, issues with consequences for economic and political development. Countries
attract tourists and pitch exportable products through the presentation of food and

10
agricultural systems. Based in ideas of controlling and activating cultural capital and
symbolic value, this work also engages conflicting conceptions of taste.
In a time of globalization, one often encounters another country or a culture for
the first time on the plate. Whether through the conscious act of exploring a cuisine in a
restaurant or unknowingly consuming products grown and produced in different parts of
the world, individuals live in an interconnected food system. Therefore, understanding
these macro-level structures of culinary prestige relate to interactions in everyday life and
the perception of other cultures and peoples. While older World’s Fairs have attracted
attention from some scholars (Gilbert 2009; Greenhalgh 2011; Raibmon 2000), a far
smaller focus has been placed on contemporary expositions. This idea holds especially
true in Milan, a long-visited cosmopolitan and global city. While visitors no longer travel
to EXPO in order to encounter unheard of peoples and cultural objects, the site remains
significant as countries project an image to the world that differentiates themselves from
their neighbors. Amongst debates over the existence and extent of cosmopolitanism
(Calhoun 2002; Cheyne and Binder 2010; Hannerz 1990; Sammells 2014; Vertovec and
Cohen 2002), EXPO and the Michelin guide reveal a consumer who might enjoy wide
variety of foods yet still stratifies cuisines and agricultural producers. Recalling a
classical sociological debate between a tastemaking elite (Bourdieu 1979) and the
aforementioned scholars, this study examines omnivorousness and the maintenance of a
hierarchy of culinary prestige. This perception of a universal exposition or ethnic2 dining

2 A loaded term that deserves exploration in another work. For this study, ethnic signifies
any cuisine other than the country’s own or those from a French/Spanish/Italian tradition.

11
as everyday and diversionary deserves a critique that questions whether
interconnectedness conveys equality.

12
LITERATURE REVIEW:
A Brief Summary of Food and Taste in Social Science:
Beginning with Claude Lévi-Strauss, Mary Douglas, Roland Barthes, and Pierre
Bourdieu, Stephen Mennell (1985) labels the first social scientists studying the
relationship between culture and food, taste, and consumption structuralists. Applying
principles from linguistics, Lévi-Strauss describes how humans create binaries like the
raw and the cooked that reveal social and cultural structures and values. Lévi-Strauss
(1997) utilizes this concept to develop a culinary triangle with three points: raw, cooked,
and rotten and three forms of cooking: boiling, roasting, and smoking as seen in Fig. 1
(historicair 2008).
Fig. 1: Lévi-Strauss’ Triangle Culinaire (historicair 2008)
For example, roasting an item over an open fire, a natural, quick cooking method stands
in contrast to boiling, a more sophisticated and time-consuming form of food preparation
(Lévi-Strauss 1997). Offering a criticism of Lévi-Strauss’ assumption of a universal and

13
binarist framework, Douglas (1972) instead focuses on social interactions and compares
various binaries within local settings. Nevertheless, Douglas (1972) examines how
individuals define the edible and inedible and discovers some seemingly universal value
systems through this analysis. This work unites sociology, food sciences, and cultural
studies to lessen issues of hunger and famine by understanding consumption rather than
solely increasing food production (Douglas [1973] 2014). Roland Barthes (1961: 29-30)
takes a similar approach based in linguistics that reduces food to “elements of display” or
“signifying units,” symbols that communicate social position, values, and culture. For
example, Barthes (1961) differentiates the rich pain de mie then served during special
occasions from everyday bread. Deborah Lupton (1996) applies binarism to highlight
how cooking is devalued as banal, feminine, and physical, the opposite of an ephemeral,
masculine tradition of philosophy.3 Nevertheless, food preparation mystically transforms
the raw and natural into civilized, even artistic dishes (Lupton 1996).
Some scholars argue that these structuralists classify human behavior but neglect
their formation and development across time (Goody 1996; Mennell 1996; Ross et al.
1978). Therefore, Mennell (1996) locates his work in ‘a developmental approach.’ This
mindset examines “structured processes of change”4 and employs a figurational
sociology in which “modes of individual behavior, cultural tastes, intellectual ideas,
social stratification, political power and economic organization are all entangled with

3 Ideas that have changed in a world that perceives food differently today
4 Author’s italicization

14
each other in complex ways which themselves change over time” (Mennell 1996:15).
This methodology also rejects the structuralist mindset of dividing nutrition and cultural
aspects of taste (Mennell 1985). This model has informed approaches to issues of hunger
and malnutrition as seen in this UNICEF report diagram on improving nutrition in
developing countries (Fig. 2 (UNICEF 1990)).
Fig. 2 UNICEF Causes of Malnutrition and Death (UNICEF 1990)
This study operates in a similar field, seeking to understand how cultural,
economic, and political factors interact in the classification and valuation of cuisines.
After all, ethnographic and socio-economic data on food habits are essential for
understanding nutritional issues and problems of inequality in food (den Hartog, van
Staveren, and Brouwer 2006).
Omnivirousness:
One challenge to Bourdieu’s Distinction questions the work’s focus on fine arts
and asserts that elites have distinct tastes and consumption patterns for other cultural

15
products like food. However, Bourdieu deems the primal taste for food the root of more
elaborate preferences. Bourdieu (1979) differentiates the working class’ and the
bourgeoisie’s conceptions of food, referring to nourishment as sustenance for the working
class and a display of cultural capital for elites. The food space (Fig. 3 (Bourdieu 1979)),
an x-y axis of cultural capital and economic capital, attributes exotic foods to those with
high cultural capital but low economic capital (i.e. teachers) because of access to cheap
Chinese and Italian cuisines (Bourdieu 1979). Furthermore, filling, bold, and rich dishes
are associated with lower cultural capital while healthy, sweet, and light dishes are
attributed to high cultural capital (Bourdieu 1979). Bourdieu (1979) examines two
definitions of taste, physical and cultural, and links them together, deeming taste for
certain flavors and artistic preferences manifestations of social class. Hiding beneath
taste’s seemingly personal and subjective nature, the imposition of taste provides a cover
for commanding power and control (Bourdieu 1979). Deeming certain tastes “lowbrow”
and others “highbrow” creates these hierarchies of taste. These categories deprive popular
culture of academic and artistic value (Levine 1990).

16
Fig. 3 Bourdieu’s Food Space (Bourdieu 1979)
Studying food within this context requires an investigation of the medium’s
idiosyncrasies. Simultaneously “universal,” “mundane,” “social,” private, domestic, and
“ephemeral” (individuals can consume different dishes or cuisines everyday),
establishing consumption patterns can be difficult (Warde 1997:180). Since the 1990s,
scholars have observed changes in hierarchies of taste including a trend of
omnivorousness amongst higher classes of society (Peterson 1992). Peterson (1992)
challenges ideas of snobbery by observing how high status occupational groups listen to
larger ranges of music (including traditionally non-elite genres), than low status
occupational groups. Developing this study by analyzing shifts in musical taste from
surveys in 1982 and 1992, Peterson and Kern (1996) reinforce a finding of high-status

17
omnivorousness. Lizardo and Skiles (2012:266) summarize this occurrence, explaining,
“we advocate for a conception of omnivorousness as a phenomenon generated by the
iterative application of a habitual disposition by members of those class fractions most
likely to have developed and perfected it as a skill.” This definition highlights how
certain mechanisms and intentionalities construct a relationship between high cultural
capital and omnivorousness.
However, some warn against praising and homogenizing this omnivore American
elite (Warde, Wright, and Gayo-Cal 2007). Warde et. al (2007:160) describe how some
omnivores lack in-depth knowledge of highbrow activities, explaining,
“Omnivorousness, when measured by volume of participation and knowledge, is often
nondescript and ordinary; it is merely the norm for the university-educated middle class.”
Warde (1997) also devalues the creation of identity through diet by explaining how
‘normative regulation’ and ‘social embeddedness’ decide consumption behavior rather
than individuals. Meanwhile, others question whether omnivorousness conveys a
rejection of snobbery. Flemish omnivores consume highbrow, middlebrow, and lowbrow
comedy but prefer and have a deeper understanding of middlebrow and highbrow
entertainment, retaining a type of snobbery (Claessens and Dhoest 2010). Kuipers (2006)
demonstrates how even in the popular medium of television, viewers watch different
programs based on their education levels. However, she describes how individuals accept
television programs watched by the less-educated and challenge a highbrow/lowbrow
distinction, suggesting, “What television might do to highbrow tastes, then, is to
transform them from legitimate tastes to exclusive subcultures” (Kuipers 2006:377).

18
DiMaggio (1987) explains this democratization and weakening of cultural classification
through the closeness of culture and social structure: an organized national American
elite, the commercialization of art, independent high-culture artists, increases in higher
education, and weak state control of culture. Differentiating the ‘democratization of
culture,’ the dissemination of high-class aspects of culture, from ‘cultural democracy,’
the acceptance of various tastes, Mennell (1999) explains how tastes in food trickle both
down and up, with low-class dishes entering high-class arenas in both transformed and
less-altered forms.
Cosmpolitanism:
Cosmopolitanism describes how individuals and subjects might engage “cultural
multiplicity” (Vertovec and Cohen 2002:1). Cosmopolitanism offers a framework for
understanding the intersections between individual taste or omnivorousness and
interactions between nation-states, describing increasing multinational operations to
address global problems like hunger and agricultural issues (Vertovec and Cohen 2002).
Cosmopolitanism might occur over a range of cosmopolitan-local continuums that
measure attachment to a “locality, “state or country,” “local culture,” and “economic,
cultural, and institutional protectionism” (Roudometof 2005:125–126).
Departing from highbrow and lowbrow distinctions, Beck and Grande (2007)
explain how cosmopolitanism erases hierarchies and assigns equal merit to different
value systems. Challenging binaries like domestic/foreign or national/international,
cosmopolitanism highlights the creation of nations that transcend borders. Nevertheless,
classifications persist, for a work of art’s origin can influence its reception (Cheyne and

19
Binder 2010). Calhoun (2002:893) proposes that cosmopolitanism involves more than
tolerance, explaining “it is important to recognize that relations across meaningful groups
are not simply matters of rational-critical discourse but involve the creation of local
hybrid cultures, accommodations, collaborations, and practical knowledge.”
Today, academics struggle to define the “elite” and associate tastes with cultural
capital due to globalism and cosmopolitanism (Cheyne and Binder 2010; DiMaggio and
Mukhtar 2004; Hannerz 1990; Holt 1997). Taste has become nuanced and varied with the
diversity present in this new upper class (Holt 1997). Exotic objects for the upper class
may be familiar for the underprivileged (Holt 1997). For example, rap may be a foreign
symbol of cosmopolitanism in a white suburban neighborhood but a routine that
represents everyday life in an urban area (Holt 1997). Furthermore, cultural capital
transforms unpredictably, with certain tenets of high society like art museums succeeding
while others like ballet struggle to sell tickets (DiMaggio and Mukhtar 2004). This study
approaches ethnic restaurants in a time of evolution when ethnic restaurants have become
a part of everyday life and dining in foreign restaurants is no longer a marker of class
(Bell 2002; Chen and Bowen 2001). However, dining in a high-class restaurant elicits
themes of both elitism and democratization (Lane 2014). Patrons of various income
levels have the ability to enjoy fine dining experiences that create theatrical arenas, yet
this enjoyment might stem partly from the reverence of the serving staff (Lane 2014).
Ethnic Cuisine and International Issues:
Exploring ethnic restaurants could represent a new form of cultural capital, a type
of colonialism in which one adopts other cultures as his own (Heldke 2003). Scholars

20
have described how cosmopolitan diners consider experiencing ethnic cuisines a form of
cultural exploration, demanding authenticity from foreign restaurants (Sammells 2014).
However, some level of adaptation occurs in the creation of these ethnic restaurants in
metropolitan areas that bridge “geographic localism and a globalizing cosmopolitanism”
(Sammells 2014:142). Interviews with Chinese restaurateurs in Belgium revealed
adaptations to Belgian culture in order to please customers, including serving steaks and
fries in Chinese restaurants (Pang 2003). A focus on reinvention and rediscovery exists,
with fusion restaurants presenting cuisines “not blended in some melting pot out of which
comes an indistinct mélange, but cultures rubbing up against each other, jostling, making
new and surprising juxtapositions” (Bell 2002:17). Today’s restaurateurs possess agency
and create unique spaces stemming from their multicultural experiences. Nevertheless,
diners seek out the exoticism and orientalism of other cultures’ foods, for online
restaurant reviewers express happiness at the foreignness of fellow diners or restaurant
staff (Hirose and Pih 2011). Speaking with a sushi chef who struggles with English or
receiving bows from the wait staff, reviewers enjoyed experiencing the exotic while
portraying themselves as culturally curious (Hirose and Pih 2011). These explorations
display the relationships between a country’s citizens and immigrants through the lens of
food, for one’s opinions on a cuisine can reflect one’s sentiments towards the food’s
culture (Abarca 2004; Edwards, Occhipinti, and Ryan 2000).
Asian restaurants are accepted into the American mainstream, with exoticism not
enough to offset typical criteria like taste (Liu and Jang 2009). However, other studies
show that Asian restaurants are still considered different, ethnic, and exotic, with

21
customers demanding their definitions of “authentic” cuisine and exploring a new culture
through its restaurants (Chen and Bowen 2001; Sukalakamala and Boyce 2007).
Bennett’s (1986) scale of intercultural sensitivity pitches increased familiarity with
others’ cultures as a step towards intercultural understanding, for consumption of another
cuisine might generate intimacy and familiarity with the cuisine’s culture.
The Stratification of Cuisines:
Limited work has occurred on the stratification of various cuisines, often focusing
on anthropological angles that explain cuisine through historical differences. Michael
Freeman (1977:144) offers a definition of a cuisine as “a self-conscious tradition of
cooking and eating” that showcases the use of many ingredients, mixes traditions, serves
a large and willing audience, and results from a hedonistic consumption of food. Inspired
by Lévi-Strauss, Goody (1982) compares patterns of consumption in Northern Ghana
with those in major Eurasian societies in order to understand the creation of homogenous,
low-class African cuisines and differentiated, high-class Eurasian cuisines. Countering
Freeman’s (1977) notion of how a cuisine emerges, Goody (1982) affirms that the
differentiation of a cuisine or the creation of a haute cuisine,5 occurs through production
and stratification missing from pre-colonial Africa. Intensive agriculture harnessing
animal energy and irrigation, a variety of writing that considers food in cosmology and
physiology, and a hierarchized food distribution that associates certain foods to certain
classes leads to the development of a cuisine (Goody 1982). Versions of these arguments

5 An internationally elevated and celebrated cuisine

22
persist today, for sociologist Christel Lane (2010) explains a discrepancy in Michelin
stars received by UK restaurants and German restaurants through the distinctiveness of
German regional cuisines that inspired an identifiable ‘gastro-regionalism.’ Meanwhile,
the UK possessed a shortage of indigenous culinary resources and employed a mixture of
international techniques that lacked a differentiable and marketable identity (Lane 2010,
2011). Examining a 2005 Council of Europe publication that featured chapters about the
46 member countries’ food, Mennell (1999) notes how nations featured festive dishes
from peasant traditions in their descriptions.
The formation of a national cuisine signifies an act of political self-expression
(Pilcher 1996). Discussing a development of Mexican cuisine that differentiated the
nation from Spain and highlighted ingredients common across ethnicities and class,
Jeffrey M. Pilcher (1996:216) explains, “Cookbook authors attached such importance to
authenticity because a ‘genuine’ work of art, however humble, demonstrates a nation’s
cultural autonomy, and this distinctiveness in turn justifies its claims to political
sovereignty.” However, the developing world must still appeal to consumers in
developed regions, for “consumption in the global North is increasingly about signs and
identity than the material components of products, access to lucrative markets for
Southern producers depends on the mobilization of symbolic resources such as place,
fairness, rurality, authenticity, or sustainability” (Ponte and Daviron 2011:198). Selling
South African wine successfully might require investments in ecolabeling and appeals to
terroir popularized by French traditions (Ponte and Daviron 2011).

23
Food and Soft Power:
Coined by Joseph S. Nye (2004), soft power refers to the ability to control others’
preferences not through military or economic influence but through attraction. Therefore,
countries with various levels of culinary prestige have different resources for soft power
and potentially political influence (Nye 2004). Carolyn Morris (2013) interprets
Bourdieu’s (1998) ‘fields of power’ to state that capital in one field might be transferred
into another. Morris (2013) explains how Bourdieu (1979) presents two strategies for
agents: reproduction and reconversion, working within a field’s structures or
transforming them. In Australia, the dominant Anglo-American cuisine has installed a
system of culinary valuation, and the Maori are attempting to gain economic capital from
the value of locality (Morris 2013).
Countries might further certain conceptions of their food and cuisine to use as
tools of diplomacy (Chapple-Sokol 2013; Rockower 2012). Some scholars have made
distinctions between ‘gastrodiplomacy’ and ‘culinary diplomacy.’ Rockower (2012:236)
describes ‘culinary diplomacy’ as employing cuisine to “further diplomatic protocol” like
a state dinner fusing two countries’ cuisines. Meanwhile, Rockower (2012:236) defines
gastrodiplomacy as “a public diplomacy pursuit” that focuses on spreading a country’s
brand and culture like Peru’s “Cocina peruana para el mundo” campaign. These two
forms of diplomacy also exist separately from ‘food diplomacy,’ defined by Sam
Chapple-Sokol (2013:162) as “using food aid as a tool of public outreach to reduce global
hunger.” While countries may struggle to ‘brand’ their nations through these initiatives
like a private company would do with a product, they attempt to counteract and

24
understand negative brands imposed on their lands (Anholt 2009). Culinary diplomacy
exists within a larger category of cultural diplomacy, defined by Nicholas Cull (2008:33)
as “an actor’s attempt to manage the international environment through making its
cultural resources and achievements known overseas and/or facilitating cultural
transmission abroad.”
These culinary campaigns are observed mainly in Asia, particularly East and Southeast
Asia, with certain exceptions like Peru (Wilson 2011). Mainly smaller countries have
engaged in gastrodiplomacy campaigns like Thailand, whose 2002 project named
“Global Thai” aimed to increase tourism through individuals’ experiences with Thai food
and improve foreign relations with other nations (Wilson 2011). Curating their cuisines
before marketing them, countries highlight fine-dining and indigenous aspects of their
cuisines, sometimes combining traditional techniques with modern presentations (Wilson
2011). However, acts of place-making and impression management often encounter
obstacles. Cultural wealth stems from “reputational attributes and cultural products of a
nation,” factors which might be limited by geography or history (Bandelj and Wherry
2011a:7). Then, like individuals who must activate their cultural capital, countries must
activate their cultural wealth through ‘social performances of value,’ explaining their
distinctness and value to audiences with limited attention spans (Bandelj and Wherry
2011a). Tourists might perceive a reality different from the perception created in
advertisements, damaging an area’s ability to attract tourism (Regnault 2011). On the
other hand, locals might adopt values of humble lifestyles and farming that coincidentally
attract tourists (Gaggio 2011). In a globalized and connected world, countries promote

25
distinct, national cuisines based around a set of culinary techniques and philosophies
rather than a kitchen’s location (Ferguson 2010). Nevertheless, this formation of cuisine
reveals economic and political challenges like Senegal’s need to replace costly rice from
Indochina imported due to the French purchase of the Senegalese product (Cusack 2003).
Within a country’s borders, the culinary world also provides a realm of
nationalistic expression (Ferguson 2010). Cusack (2003) references Catherine Palmer
(1998) to explain how food serves as an example of Michael Billig’s (1995) ‘banal
nationalism,’ everyday representations of a nation that foster nationalism. Palmer (1998:
196) considers choices in diet and the manner of eating “flags of nationhood,” practices
that represent a cultural identity and express an attempt to belong. Building on Bell and
Valentine (1997), Palmer (1998) explains how defining a singular national cuisine is less
important than examining how citizens’ diverse dining choices foster a sense of
belonging.
Japanese popular literature has conveyed both positive and negative responses to
hybridized forms of sushi (Sakamoto and Allen 2011). However, the Japanese
government’s original plans to certify authentic Japanese food turned into a
recommendation program based on increasing exports rather than defending a particular
definition of authenticity (Sakamoto and Allen 2011). A translated quote from popular
Japanese author Toyoo Tamamura that as cited by Sakamoto and Allen (2011:107)
describes Japan as a referee “to ensure that culture is communicated correctly.”
Criticism and the Importance of Gastronomic Guides:

26
Reviews preserve the intellectual spaces and cultural classifications described by
Bourdieu and DiMaggio (Blank 2006). Blank (2006) describes restaurant reviews seen in
newspapers as ‘connoisseurial’ reviews, descriptive pieces based on the expertise of an
individual. However, restaurant reviews also incorporate ‘procedural’ methods that
compare products through numerical rating systems (Blank 2006). Gastronomic guides
like Michelin define ‘legitimate taste,’ standards of creativity and quality decided by
mysterious judges (Lane 2014). Needing to secure the trust of the public while affirming
seemingly objective metrics of food preparation like idealizing medium-rare meat,
reviewers must affirm a superior taste while appealing to consumers (Mennell 1985).
Lane (2014) considers the Michelin Guide a ‘procedural’ review system because of the
guide’s focus on stars, information like price, and self-described objective yet mysterious
criteria. Priscilla Parkhurst Ferguson describes three types of reviewer: the ‘judge,’ the
critic or blogger who packages judgments with individual personality and style, the
‘tribunal,’ conservative institutions like Michelin that institute supposedly objective
criteria, and the ‘plebiscite,’ amateurs consulted in mass polls like Zagat (Ferguson
2008).
Interviews with starred chefs reveal mixed sentiments on whether the Michelin
Guide, traditionally a gatekeeper of French haute cuisine, has become more democratic
and global with the incorporation of a broader range of restaurants in recent years (Lane
2014). Michelin’s arrival in America inspired nationalistic anger in individuals rejecting a
seemingly antiquated and francocentric system, even when the guide instituted American
connoisseurial aspects like descriptions written in casual English, increased photographs,

27
and recipes or menus from starred restaurants (Ferguson 2008). While three of the four
restaurants awarded three stars in the first New York guide were run by famous French
chefs, these establishments feature multicultural ingredients and cooks (Ferguson 2008).
The Cultural Wealth of Nations:
A relatively young concept referring to macrolevel, international cultural capital
rather than individual or group resource, cultural wealth remains an underexplored topic.
However, much of the research explicitly addressing cultural wealth or highlighting
similar concepts focuses on gastronomy or agriculture. Scholars within food science have
conceptualized a global food system with complex value chains (Morgan, Marsden, and
Murdoch 2006). Meanwhile, others have described how French traditions of gastronomy
have spread from their aristocratic roots through resources, recipes, and symbolic goods,
some of which can be harnessed by the world while others are restricted to use by a
specific heritage or nation (Barrère, Chossat, and Bonnard 2012). A concept of ‘cultural
commons,’ aspects of culture produced and shared by a community, underlines the
importance of managing and cultivating these traits to avoid a tragedy of the commons
(Bertacchini et al. 2012). While not depletable resources, cultural commons might be
mistranslated or co-opted by other groups or abandoned if not updated (Bertacchini et al.
2012).

28
METHODS:
Data Gathering Methods: Ethnography:
The ethnographic portion of this study took place at the Universal Exposition,
otherwise known as EXPO or Expo 2015, in Milan, Italy over three weeks in August
2015. I chose this site because of the 2015 theme of “Nutrire il Pianeta, Energia per la
vita” or “Feeding the Planet, Energy for Life” (EXPO Milano 2015 n.d.). This exposition
provided an opportunity to study how countries present their cuisines and agricultural
systems. Over 20 million people and 150 organizations, businesses, and countries
participated in EXPO.The Bureau International des Expositions oversees universal
expositions, descended from world’s fairs. Every five years, a ‘World Expo’ occurs with
countries building pavilions to follow a universal theme. In other years, recognized,
‘International Specialized Expos’ take place with narrower themes, smaller scales, and
pre-constructed exhibition spaces (Bureau International des Expositions n.d.). The
exposition centered on organizations’ and countries’ pavilions, which ranged from
clusters of similarly designed rooms of around 500 square feet to multi-story buildings
with theaters, wading pools and forests. Many pavilions included restaurant(s) and some
offered guided experiences that required queuing in groups.
Over three weeks I visited nearly every pavilion, entering EXPO as an average
paying visitor. However, I examined each pavilion carefully, reading written materials,
watching films, and interacting with displays even when most visitors passed over them. I
explained the nature of my research project when I posed questions deeper than an

29
average visitor’s inquiries or became engaged in a conversation. For example, when I
arrived at the James Beard American Restaurant6, I described my project before asking
about the multicultural families featured in the US pavilion’s short films. The only times
I discarded this standard visitor role occurred were when I observed Madagascar National
Day alongside a colleague invited as part of the country’s delegation and performed two
open-ended interviews with staff from the United Nations. Consent forms can be seen in
Figure A.1. I utilized funding from the Office of the Dean of the College Senior Thesis
Funds to fund my travel, living, and experience restaurants at EXPO (Figure A.2). I also
received funds from the Department of African-American Studies (Figure A.2).
I collected data through observation and conversation, operating in English,
French, and Italian. I speak French at the C1 level7 but my Italian proficiency was less
developed. I arrived in Milan after seven months of self-study and two months of living
in Rome but working in an English-speaking environment. I had few difficulties reading
information or understanding official addresses from pavilion staff, but I could not
express my thoughts and ask questions as spontaneously as I would have liked. Utilizing
the Wi-Fi at EXPO and in my apartment, I would translate possibly useful phrases and
words regarding the themes I hoped to explore before visiting a pavilion. However, many
staff also possessed limited foreign language proficiency and struggled with

6 An offsite restaurant still part of the American presence at EXPO
7 The second highest level of the Common European Framework of Reference for
Languages

30
conversations about agriculture or culture even when their second language was English.
Therefore, while Italian fluency would have helped me interact more extensively with
Italian staff and visitors, my limited proficiency did little to restrain my understanding of
pavilions and communication with most employees.
This study focused on countries’ pavilions as objects. I examined the images and
ideas each nation utilized to showcase their food and agricultural systems. Fewer details
about visitors’ experiences and perceptions of EXPO are included due to language
barriers and an emphasis on nation-states as the study’s subjects. Also, the diversity and
large numbers of visitors would have made establishing trends across patrons difficult. I
have harnessed documents obtained from the pavilions alongside web materials to
compliment my in-person observations. A pavilion staff’s ethnic makeup generally
depended on the country’s economic development, but staff demographics and language
abilities still varied. In countries with their own pavilions, I could usually interact with
young international employees, Italian staff, and individuals from the pavilion. In
countries with smaller spaces in the EXPO’s clusters, communication either occurred
with older Italians working for non-profit organizations or individuals from the pavilion’s
country who often had limited proficiency in English, Italian, or French. Furthermore,
even when language was not a barrier, staff members were often diplomatic and hesitant
to discuss topics beyond the scope of ideas presented in their pavilions. Therefore,
despite certain valuable interactions with EXPO staff, most of my research stems from
analysis of each pavilion as an experience through printed rhetoric, architecture, and
other media.

31
I took notes utilizing photographs that I notated with captions when I returned to
my apartment in Milan. With these visual reminders I could retain a better image of a
pavilion than through written notes. The captions were mostly anecdotal and descriptive,
serving as reminders rather than codes. I also wrote down brief phrases describing events
I was unable to attach a photograph to. Then, I coded the notes utilizing an open coding
scheme. The diversity of pavilions and scale of the EXPO would have made establishing
a closed scheme difficult. My research evoked questions across fields and subjects like
intercultural interaction, cultural diplomacy, neocolonialism, “ethnic” cuisine, natural
resource driven economies and soft power, so I employed a coding scheme that
considered these various themes.
This ethnographic study occurred without approval from the IRB. I
misunderstood the IRB’s meeting schedule and was not able to submit an IRB application
until after the research was performed. This issue has been settled with the IRB, please
see the documents attached (Fig. A.1).
Basis for Ethnography:

Ethnography of the World Expo provided an opportunity to participate in spaces
curated by over 100 countries. While ethnography traditionally provided immersion into
a secondary culture as in the field of anthropology, this study participates in a type of
institutional ethnography. Introducing the concept of institutional ethnography, Dorothy
Smith explores the distinctions between her roles as a mother and a professor. Smith
(2005:18) explains, “daily acts articulate us into social relations of the order I have called
ruling as well as those of the economy…the functions of ‘knowledge, judgment, and

32
will’ have become built into a specialized complex of objectified forms of organization
and consciousness that organize and coordinate people’s everyday lives.” Smith frames
everyday work and the fulfillment of roles as an entry point for understanding the
influence of institutions. In Milan, I discovered how a country’s culinary and agricultural
identity remains tied to larger structures. EXPO makes explicit connections between
labor, ruling classes, institutions, and ideology. For example, images of a coffee
plantation laborer stand next to an illy-branded café hawking Yoko Ono designed
dinnerware. Institutional ethnographies often focus on texts as markers of how
institutions coordinate their influence, and the organization of each pavilion serves as a
text by reflecting a nation’s government, agricultural ministry, non-profits and other
voices that inform the pavilion’s presentation. Sociologists might utilize texts as
“straightforward reports about social life,” but “institutional ethnographies are designed
to reveal the organizing power of texts, making visible just how activities in local settings
are coordinated and managed extralocally” (Devault 2006:295). Observing the bare
display of coffee beans in Burundi’s pavilion, I located myself in an EXPO-designated
cluster of coffee producing countries, almost all with economies shaped by colonialism.
While I originally planned to conduct interviews with EXPO attendees, staff, and
others working backstage, language barriers and EXPO’s scale made this plan infeasible.
Furthermore, these conversations would likely have conveyed official, diplomatic
responses that concealed the complexities of hierarchy and intercultural interaction at
EXPO.

33
Data Gathering Methods: Statistical Analysis:

This study analyzes a sample of 867 restaurants listed in the 2016 Michelin Guide
for New York City. Restaurants and their characteristics were manually recorded from
the official Michelin website. While the website lists 862 restaurants for New York City,
the web applet contained a glitch where certain restaurants in outer boroughs of New
York City were excluded from this list. I manipulated the applet’s map to check the city’s
outer boundaries for missing restaurants and manually added them. This information is
all publically available on the Michelin website (viamichelin.com) despite the better-
known tradition of published paper guides.
Currently, Michelin publishes restaurant guides for three areas in the United
States: the San Francisco Bay Area, Chicago, and New York City. Meanwhile, the
company also covers Western European countries, Sao Paolo and Rio, the Canary
Islands, areas of the Nordic countries, and Hong Kong and Macau. This study focuses on
one research site due to the time intensive process of manually recording restaurant
entries and related control variables. Ambiguity in the cuisine assigned to each restaurant
by Michelin8 and my lack of knowledge about writing web-scraping programs also
restricted the creation of a larger data sample. However, including regions outside of the
United States where narrower ranges of international cuisines exist (except maybe Hong
Kong) would have diluted the dataset and hampered progress towards answering the
research project’s questions. While diverse, Chicago’s dining scene did not match the

8 Expanded upon later in methods section

34
NYC scene’s breadth. The Bay Area guide would help supplement the New York dataset,
but it covers both suburban and urban areas, introducing new variables.
The Michelin Guide lists each establishment’s address, cuisine, price range from a
choice of set ranges, and an additional information category that highlights certain
characteristics like “a particularly interesting wine list” or wheelchair accessibility, also
selected from a set list of designations. Each entry also includes a vignette, a short
paragraph of around five sentences that describes dining at the restaurant, possibly the
chef’s background, and specialty dishes. Three Michelin stars reflect “unique cuisine.
Worth a special trip!” Two Michelin stars convey “exceptional cuisine. Worth a detour!”
One star begets “cuisine of great finesse. Worth the Step! In addition to one, two, or
three Michelin stars, Michelin awards the “Bib Gourmand” and zero to five “Forks &
Spoons.” The Guide website describes the bib award as signifying “very good value for
less than €31.” However, restaurants with stars do not receive bibs, relegating the bib to
a puzzling second-tier status. Blogs and food media have speculated over the
recognition’s meaning, positing that it might mark where a reviewer would eat in his free
time yet overlook the most affordable restaurants (Brusin 2010; Sutton 2015). The forks
and spoons measure a restaurant’s comfort and ambiance, ranging from no designation or
descriptions like “simple standard” to “exceptional standard. Particularly charming or
characterful.” They also might be colored red to imply the exceptional pleasantness of an
eatery (Barrėre, Bonnard, and Chossat 2010). All of these quotations stem from
restaurant descriptions on the Michelin website. Opaque and seemingly subjective, these
awards offer valuable subjects for interpretation.

35
For each restaurant entry, I recorded most of this information. I also logged a
secondary cuisine for restaurants assigned broad designations like contemporary, Eastern
European, or seafood if the food’s nationality was explicitly mentioned in the vignette.
Upon recording my data, I re-examined the establishments given a broad cuisine
designation and recoded them with a nationality if one was indicated on Yelp. For
example, Yelp officially listed a cuisine like American for a restaurant marked as a
gastropub by Michelin. Other times, a restaurant would be listed as Eastern European by
both sites, but a majority of the Yelp reviews on the first page would describe the
establishment as the local Uzbek spot. In these cases, I inputted the popular designation.9
A few restaurants existed in a gray area where a contemporary establishment might be
listed as Tapas on Yelp but serve a range of international small plates. For this restaurant,
I would leave the restaurant as contemporary rather than declaring it Spanish because the
eatery reinvents the tapas tradition and features international flavors. On the other hand,
if a restaurant were listed as American but featured a seared ahi tuna dish, I would leave
the American designation since this dish exists in a tradition of Californian and new
American cuisine. However, I did not mark the difference between red and black forks
and spoons because I did not realize the differences between the two colors until after
completing data collection.

9 In these scenarios I would see some reviewers describing the food as Eastern European
rather than Uzbekistani but I did not observe clashes over the nationality of the food i.e.
Uzbekistani v. Turkmen.

36
I complimented this Michelin data with demographic data from each restaurant’s
zip code and the GDP/capita of each cuisine’s country of origin. This information
investigates how global and local characteristics affect which restaurants receive
recognition. For example, seeing a cluster of Chinatown restaurants or hole-in-the-walls
awarded with stars would convey a different message than praise of upscale Chinese
restaurants in wealthy, majority-white areas of Manhattan. The zip code data stems from
the American Community Survey’s 2014 5-year estimates, which offered maximal
precision as opposed to shorter-term estimates. Take note of the N value of various
figures, for certain information like the proportion of foreign-born residents was not
available in some tracts. I decided to focus on a zip code’s median income and proportion
of foreign-born residents, two variables that aid in classifying neighborhoods. I also
collected one other measure from the ACS, a count of New York’s population listing
ancestry from the country or region of a restaurant’s cuisine. I hoped that this information
would explore the relationship between an ethnic group’s presence/immigration patterns
and recognition of its cuisine.
The GDP/capita data addresses the relationship between economic wealth and
cultural wealth. GDP/capita offers a commonly used barometer of economic development
that permits future research to build upon this data analysis. Furthermore, focusing on
production rather than human development, job creation, or other barometers follows a
notion of cultural wealth based on exporting images and cuisine. A future study could
hone in on aspects of trade, agricultural production, and exports that relate directly to

37
food. However, examining the Michelin guide meant a virtual absence of restaurants
from producer countries in Sub-Saharan Africa and a skew towards established cuisines.
Regarding fusion restaurants, I measured an average GDP from the two fused
cuisines. This step creates some confusion since it is unclear whether reviewers and
patrons analyze the specific cuisines fused by an eatery or view fusion as an established,
stateless genre (or have a view that changes based on the restaurant’s class). Related to
GDP, I coded a region variable that divided the restaurants by the region of their cuisine’s
origin: Other, American, French/Spanish/Italian, Other European, Sub-Saharan African,
Asian, Latin American, Middle Eastern and North African, or Eurasian. The cuisine
variable was difficult to manipulate due to its diversity, so these categorizations created a
more useful input. I produced the French/Spanish/Italian category to differentiate the
traditional gastronomic powers.10 The Other category contains a range of cuisines from
inter-regional fusion to contemporary establishments incorporating global influences. I
considered breaking up the Asian category into East, Southeast, and South Asia due to
the plethora of Asian establishments but decided to limit intra-regional distinctions
outside of the three classical western European cuisines. Also, I envision Asian cuisine as
an overarching “ethnic” category where going out for Chinese, Thai, Indian, or Japanese
all represent similar activities.11 The sample size of less-established cuisines is limited in

10 See literature review for rationale
11 Even though this pattern is changing with “foodies” and especially in an international
city like New York City

38
the Michelin dataset, but a different data gathering method could reveal interesting
intraregional trends.
Data Analysis Methods: Statistical Analysis:

The statistical analysis asks a two-part question: what types of New York City
restaurants does the Michelin Guide recognize (and with which awards) and how does
GDP/capita interact with local variables to determine a restaurant or cuisine’s culinary
prestige? While the interaction effects were the main focus of this study, this thesis was
unsuccessful in drawing conclusions about the relationships between global and local
phenomena. Nevertheless, this study still elicited questions about what types of
restaurants the Michelin Guide recognizes. The Michelin dataset offers three explicit
barometers of culinary prestige: the Bib Gourmand, stars, and forks and spoons. I also
highlighted price range to measure the monetization of a cuisine. This study treats these
four measures as dependent variables and examines the relationships between these
recognitions and cuisines, characteristics of the cuisine’s country, and characteristics of a
restaurant’s zip code. Regarding GDP: I hypothesized that rises in GDP would
correspond with a lower likelihood of receiving a bib, a higher likelihood of receiving a
star, higher forks and spoons, and higher price ranges. Regarding zip codes: I thought that
bibs would be assigned more often in areas with higher proportions of foreign-born
populations and lower median incomes. I predicted the opposite result for stars, forks and
spoons, and price range. Overall, these projections point to the Bib Gourmand as
recognizing different standards than stars rather than describing an intermediary step. I

39
also suggested that economic development would lead to greater culinary recognition,
including obtaining Michelin stars.
Data analysis was set up to understand the interactions between global-level
phenomena: the hierarchies seen at EXPO, local phenomena: the zip code characteristics,
and restaurant-level phenomena: restaurant characteristics. This study asked: how do
these tiers affect a cuisine or restaurant’s culinary prestige as measured through the
Michelin Guide? How does economic development in a cuisine’s country of origin
transform the value of other restaurant traits in pursuing recognition from the Michelin
Guide? However, issues with the data made calculating interactions between these levels
difficult, with models producing few significant results. I constructed models based on
the region of cuisine, whether a cuisine was “ethnic,” and created categorical variables
like luxury v. non-luxury restaurants, but these attempts yielded large p values and
insignificant results. Therefore, after running a variety of models and finding limited
significant results for dependent variables of stars, bibs, and forks, this study focuses on
restaurant price range, still with limited success. This study examines price as both a
dependent and independent variable, for price serves as a signal to Michelin that garners
consideration for stars, bibs, and forks, yet the economic value of a cuisine results from a
combination of other factors. How does signaling through a restaurant’s price range relate
to culinary prestige, and how does the capacity to select price relate to broader economic
factors? I hypothesized that increases price would lead to more stars and F&S but lower
chances at a Bib Gourmand. However, I anticipated that this penalty towards receiving a
Bib Gourmand would be weaker for developed nations’ cuisines. This prediction

40
forecasts a bias towards establishments serving dishes from wealthy nations at prices just
under the Bib Gourmand cutoff. Meanwhile, I predicted that the positive effects of higher
prices on stars and F&S would be stronger for high-class restaurants serving cuisines
from less developed nations since they stand out from their peers.
Data analysis began with an examination of descriptives and correlations to
identify the makeup of the New York City Michelin-recognized dining scene. Once
again, four dependent variables were selected: stars, Bib Gourmand, forks and spoons
(F&S), and price range. Due to their irregular distributions, stars and bib gourmands were
tested with Spearman rank correlation. Stars produced a mean of 0.113 while the binary
variable of achieving a Bib Gourmand produced a mean of 0.153. Meanwhile, the
relatively normally distributed F&S (median = 2, mean = 1.633) and price ranges
(median = 25, mean = 31.56) were analyzed with Pearson’s correlation testing. For these
reasons, logistic regressions predicting the odds of receiving stars or a Bib Gourmand
utilized binary variables describing whether a restaurant received any stars (0 = no stars,
1 = one, two, or three stars) or a Bib Gourmand. (0 = no Bib Gourmand, 1 = Bib
Gourmand). Linear probability models were not usable due to the distributions of these
variables.
Basis for Mixed Methods:

Initially, I planned to expand my ethnographic research at EXPO with participant-
observation at both high and low-class eateries serving ethnic cuisines. I also considered
interviewing pavilion organizers or chefs reinventing “ethnic” cuisines in America.
However, I realized that my ethnographic content analysis of EXPO pavilions provides a

41
framework for performing statistical analysis. Instead of focusing on personal narratives,
my ethnographic work outlines a broad typology and hierarchy of cultural and culinary
wealth (i.e. visualizing global value chains for products like chocolate). Statistical work
tests the presence of these hierarchies and examines what variables maintain this
stratification. This thesis analyzes two barometers of cultural wealth: the universal
exposition and the gastronomic review guide.12 A supposedly egalitarian site for nations
to unite against a larger issue, EXPO instead becomes a site of contestation. Countries
mobilize cultural capital to shape their identities and obtain cultural wealth. Meanwhile,
Michelin serves as an oft-mentioned gatekeeper and barometer of culinary prestige.
While one might validate the stratification observed at EXPO through economic statistics
like shifts in tourism or export statistics, these measures fail to isolate culinary prestige.
Countries with lackluster displays may have attracted tourists through marketing their
undiscovered natures and the allure of visiting sites of food production. EXPO presented
global hierarchies manifested through pavilions, but my arguments from this research
rely on informal observation. Statistical analysis of the Michelin Guide tests these
observations by examining the distribution of culinary prestige.
Although ethnographic work usually possesses a tiny scope, I hope to draw
conclusions from EXPO that have a global significance. However, questions like the
influence of EXPO’s organization, logistical and organizational structures behind each
country’s presence, and a mostly Italian audience elicit doubts about whether

12 Thank you to the African-American Studies Colloquium for helping me distinguish
this angle

42
stratification seen at EXPO transfers to other contexts. I believe that the cluster system
symbolizes global hierarchies, but their implementation at EXPO might have ensured the
disparities I observed. For example, Ethiopian cuisine appeared on an episode of The
Simpsons due to its popularity amongst foodies, revealing culinary prestige that
contradicted a limited presence at EXPO. Examples like the Thai pavilion where a
country’s presence at EXPO appeared contradictory to a history of gastrodiplomacy
elicited questions about which tourism bodies or ministries controlled the pavilion
planning process. Therefore, blindly accepting the ethnographic data would lead to the
erasure of the culinary prestige of certain nations, including those without a pavilion like
the Nordic cuisines, which have recently received Michelin stars and best restaurant in
the world designations. Also, observations about visitors at EXPO may have relied on a
biased, mostly Italian sample. Despite the proliferation of “ethnic” cuisines in Europe and
Milan, New York City provides an ideal site for questioning the cosmopolitan palate.
Therefore, statistical analysis of the Michelin Guide tests the possibility of generalizing
observations from my ethnographic work.
RESULTS:
Ethnography:
Reinterpreting den Hartog et al.’s guide to food ethnography, this study replaces
the subject of a family or community with pavilions and the nations behind each space.
This work analyzes how each country showcased food production chains alongside

43
factors of geography, economy, demography, and food culture as seen in Fig. 4 (den
Hartog et al. 2006).
Fig. 4 Important Aspects of Food Ethnography at Family and Community Levels (den
Hartog et al. 2006)
Gastrodiplomacy in the Developing World v. the Developed World:

Considering gastrodiplomacy, I observed the persevering influence of class-based
theories of taste. At EXPO, successful gastrodiplomacy relied on displaying cultural
capital appealing to Eurocentric values or emphasizing exoticism. However, certain
universal, possibly biological aspects of taste democratized gastrodiplomacy. EXPO
depicted a public that adopts many conceptions of taste and prestige from a dominant
class and history but still values certain lowbrow forms of dining and consumption.

44
Participating in gastrodiplomacy requires a minimum level of stability, wealth,
and unified cultural identity. In the Somalian pavilion, the nebulous, oversized eyes of a
thin child gazed out from a series of paintings depicting progress towards basic human
rights like freedom of religion. The poorest, politically unstable countries focused on
issues of hunger and forming national identity rather than culinary self-promotion. Many
of these nation-states adopted a marketplace environment that prioritized selling trinkets
over placemaking. In the Yemeni pavilion, letters towering on the walls advertised the
nation’s gifts of coffee and honey to the world, but a repeating jolt of “nee haw” cut
through bustle and chatter echoing through the cubic space. Turning towards the
“Chinese” greeting, I encountered a man shaking bracelets and necklaces in my direction.
Despite the signage marketing valuable products, the pavilion’s social norms reflected a
market’s atmosphere including the hawking practices of an individual experienced in
dealing with Chinese tourists. Meanwhile, in the Rwandan pavilion, a marketplace was
accompanied by agricultural and export information pitching the nation’s coffee economy
to potential investors. Appearing on small posters made in preceding years, unappealing
tones of beige, dark green, and brown outlined the distribution of coffee washing stations
and trees. Food retained its raw product form, an economic opportunity and tool for
development rather than a cuisine with potential to increase soft power.
Displaying this imbalance, some countries like the United States, France,
Germany, Japan, and other first world countries offered multiple dining choices while
others lacked restaurants. Mixing nationalities, the Mauritanian pavilion housed a
Vietnamese restaurant featuring a Vietnamese server studying in Italy. Shrugging off my

45
question about this arrangement, he dismissed the notion that it was strange for a
Vietnamese restaurant to represent the country. Nevertheless, he struggled to
communicate with an African pavilion staffer who pointed at each food item on display
and inquired about its quality in French. Then, this pavilion employee navigated the
kitchen to brew tea, which he poured for himself and the other pavilion staffers (not
including the restaurant staff), displaying a division between the restaurant and the
nation’s representatives. Two women working in the pavilion explained that they
sometimes enjoyed the restaurant’s offerings but claimed no ownership of or relation to
the cuisine.
However, EXPO’s numerous countries reveal the complexity behind concepts like
gastrodiplomacy and warn against generalization. In the Zimbabwean pavilion, a stand
named CrocoBurger emphasized the food’s exoticism while appealing to standards of
western taste. Equipped with mascot, combo meals, QR codes, and English posters
announcing, “ask for a franchising,” this restaurant stemmed from a country ranked 155th
in the United Nations Development Programme’s Human Development Index (Human
Development Report Team 2015). By encapsulating novelty and exoticism in the familiar
context of the hamburger, CrocoBurger created a product that appealed to a lower brow,
younger sense of taste. One might question how this form of culinary-self-promotion
relying on adaptation rather than the development of national cuisine relates to culinary
prestige. One could observe the limitations of this gastrodiplomacy, with errors in
translation and a small serving space.

46
Even when visitors had positive experiences at a developing country’s pavilion,
this praise appeared limited to EXPO and conveyed limited engagement with the other
culture. For example, the Algerian pavilion provided a popular restaurant for staffers.
Draperies engulfed the floor and seats, and patterns of maroon, gold, and white laced
across my field of sight. With staff travelling through the aisles overlooking the setting of
each table, drink glasses face down except a ruby-tinted cup standing up and bearing
flowers, this cluster space possessed the decorations and service of EXPO’s finest
restaurants. Developing a clever workaround to logistical issues of serving hot food from
the limited pavilion kitchen, the restaurant offered a cold buffet based around vegetables
flavored with dressings while providing a couscous brought to each table after
completion of a course from the buffet. Despite avoiding issues of lukewarm and
overcooked foods that hampered many dining options, the dining experience limited
potential for gastrodiplomacy. Without information about the dishes or staff fluent in
Italian, French, or English, the role of each plate in Algerian culture remained
ambiguous. Dishes became hard to recall, and I received no understanding of their
cultural value through descriptions of preparation or ritual meals. Therefore, even if the
restaurant impressed and intrigued patrons in Algerian cuisine, the eatery offered little
opportunity to explore this interest. At a pavilion like Japan’s however, fliers lay on each
serving tray. Hello Kitty explained the proper way to hold chopsticks while a logo with
an English translation declared the deliciousness of Japanese wagyu beef and explained
the process of raising these cattle. Dining in this setting ensured that visitors associated
specific, quality brands and products with Japan when they left the table.

47
Meanwhile, France and Italy showcased the difficulty of losing this culinary
prestige. At the French pavilion, patrons lined up to pay a few euros for viennoiseries13,
and a stand vended sandwiches, salads, and other simple meals. However, the words
printed on this bland gray structure: baguette, cafés, crêpe chocolat and croissants
highlighted how these everyday, cheap items are recognizable and valued throughout the
world, even across language barriers. The slogan printed on the side of this construction,
“J’aime la baguette française”14 revealed how an everyday bread has become an
internationally desired object. Furthermore, when France activates the cultural capital
associated with the baguette, the country harnesses an additional value of authenticity and
asserts the superiority of a baguette française. With an open kitchen and a sign
proclaiming “the excellent experience of French bakers,” the food stand attracted visitors
and spending through preconceived images of a French baker and a national history of
cuisine and technique.
The intersecting line crossing the t-shaped EXPO, Italy’s pavilions15 also revealed
the ease of maintaining cultural wealth. Walking from the Tree of Life to the south
entrance, one observed pavilions representing each region of Italy, Italian food and drink
companies, the country’s main agricultural association, and an educational space for
children. A videoboard flashing the eye-catching spin of a slot machine provided guests

13 Croissants, brioches, etc. at prices far higher than those found outside of EXPO
14 I love the French baguette

48
with the chance to win various beverages from S. Pellegrino. Projected graphics of water
bottles stood as tall as entire pavilions, and a backlit bar displayed the water instead of
top shelf liquors. Harnessing economic capital to provide giveaways and the symbolic
value afforded to a brand of sparkling water, this space exposed the difficulty of
forfeiting culinary prestige.
Beverages, marketed through packaging and offering opaque distinctions in
quality, provide an effective lens for understanding the ease of retaining culinary prestige.
Knowledge of fine spirits and wines often serves as a barrier to elite social class.
Meanwhile, the near-universal consumption of products like juices or waters allows for
international comparisons. The Italian wine pavilion, complete with a grape-shaped
staircase, represented the high end of cultural capital. With a design scheme based in
marble, granite, and golden lettering expressing messages in Italian, English, and
Chinese, the pavilion understood wine’s global reach and popularity. An employee stated
that the Italian language represented the past, English appealed to the largest
market/range of consumers, and Chinese represented a future EXPO.16 The head
sommelier confirmed the impact of Chinese consumers on the wine industry, describing
Chinese customers’ predilections for bold, full-bodied red wines often produced in
California. This catering to and typification of the Chinese palette suggested an adoption
of wine as a high culture symbol in China. Nevertheless, the pavilion asserted wine’s role
in European history and society. Archeological displays showcased ancient winemaking
materials and ornate vessels from throughout history. A white marble table with glass

16 It is unclear what event she was referring to

49
beakers showcasing different colors of wine evoked a sense of alchemy mixing science
and art. Holograms displayed wine’s presence in realms of the social elite ranging form
royal balls with gentlewomen in ballooning gowns to a contemporary candlelit dinner and
wedding proposal. The pavilion sold wine as a marker of class, capitalizing on Italian
tradition and history.
This importance placed on culture and history also permeated perceptions of taste,
for the pavilion asserted the values of Italian wine and ownership over these unique wine
styles. One golden message declared, “Vino is Terriorio” alongside the varieties of Italian
wines. In the wine serving room, 10 euros bought three servings from a selection of over
1000 wines, discussing the drinks with sommeliers, and taking home a ceremonial
wineglass in a sealed bag. Offering this experience at a low price signified an economic
advantage for the host nation, for this experience was cheaper than almost any meal at
EXPO. The sommeliers ensured that a lecture about the wine’s region covering both
large-scale producers and small wineries accompanied each sample. The pavilion profited
from an established vocabulary, study, and infrastructure surrounding wine. Each glass
educated visitors about the value and gifts of a specific area in Italy through the concept
of terroir and wine’s connection to geography. For example, while one could taste juices
rarely seen in Europe at many African pavilions, these sips signified exploration for the
palette. In the wine pavilion, enjoying a wine meant a discussion with the sommelier
about the winery and the possibility to step outside to the region’s pavilion and plan a trip
with representatives from the tourism industry.

50
While providing a lowerbrow product, countries known for brewing also profited
from their products’ recognition. The Czech pavilion marketed pilsner poolside. At other
pavilions, happy hours with discounted beers attracted lines in the afternoon/early
evenings. However, while these products garnered economic benefits through their
symbolic value, they lacked the uniqueness, ties to nationality, or infrastructure to induce
tourism like the Italian wines, Japanese sake accompanied by multilingual tasting
sessions, or Russian vodka served in a caviar bar. Developing countries presented an
even lower tier of this cultural wealth hierarchy. In multiple developing countries’ spaces,
one saw various beverages valued as a part of national identity. For example, in pavilions
representing countries like Sudan, Zimbabwe, and Gambia, often-handmade posters
marketed baobab juice in forms ranging from unmarked pitchers to packaged and
branded bottles. In the Gambian pavilion, an employee bombarded each patron with
samples of their juices, listing one flavor after another. At the Egyptian pavilion,
restaurant staff and I had trouble communicating with each other, but they conveyed that
tasting a doum granita, a granite flavored with the oval fruit of a palm tree, would give
me a taste of Egypt. Expressing appreciation for the drink elicited a smile from the chef.
Despite the prominence of these beverages in each country, the pavilions attempted to
establish a connection with patrons through taste. Without infrastructure surrounding
these experiences, drinking each beverage signified a fleeting encounter rather than
immersion into another culture.
Meanwhile, countries with higher levels of economic development but limited
culinary prestige invested in promotions, sometimes sacrificing authenticity for

51
marketability. In the Hungarian pavilion, stands featured bottled water and flavored sodas
in sleek cans bearing minimalist designs. A staff member dismissed these fruit-based
drinks, explaining that no one drank them. Instead, she wished for a display of beer and
national liqueurs like pálinka, a fruit brandy taken in shots. At the Moroccan pavilion,
mainly white employees in t-shirts reading “Keep Calm and Drink Mint Tea” served the
traditional drink in plastic souvenir cups. China’s Huiyuan Juice supported the fruits and
legumes and spices clusters, including a display/juice bar featuring thousands of the
company’s juice canisters and offering sangria. Colombia featured its coffee on its main
façade, yet the country received visitors thirsty for fruit juices that fit into a theme of
biodiversity and natural abundance. One observed countries adapting national beverages
to trends and marketing strategies popular in Western countries. In the Korean pavilion,
one observed Anglicized names of dishes and presentation styles mimicking western fine
dining despite the restaurant’s modest price range. Run by a British Korean food chain,
this eatery replaced the tradition of banchan, various small plate appetizers, with kimchi
standing in sealed and branded jars for sale at the gift shop-like counter. Barbecued meat
shrank to a miniature serving on a cast iron slate accompanied with molecular
gastronomy-like foam blasting the smell of mushrooms into one’s nose. Meanwhile,
demonstrations of traditional foods and products employed both traditionally dressed
older Koean women and a younger Korean MC, yet his overenthusiastic persona and
strong accent led to audience members mocking his frequent and awkward appeals in
imperfect Italian. Simply adopting Western standards did not guarantee cultural wealth,

52
for mismatches between atmosphere, food quality, and presentation and mistranslations
of cultural symbols or practices dissuaded visitors.
However, while some foods conveyed the advantage of fame and value in
Western societies, others suggested that unfamiliar dishes might appeal to near-universal
preferences like the appeal of fresh bread or sweets. Serving frozen french fries openly
wheeled in sacks in front of customers, a polygonal wooden structure with a sign reading
“Belgian Fries” attracted lines throughout EXPO’s opening hours. A corporate sponsor’s
presence expressed through vats of mass-produced sauces and posters advertising the
company did not dissuade patrons. Similarly, a server at the Belarusian pavilion loudly
announced the availability of vodka to passerby, repeating the assortment of flavors on
offer. Recognition of vodka, acceptance of its taste, and associations between quality
versions of the spirit with Eastern Europe led to passerby stopping. This mode of self-
promotion relied not necessarily on highbrow taste, but on familiarity with and
acceptance of the alcohol’s taste profile. Happy hour with cheap beers at the Slovakian
pavilion or the bier bar at the German pavilion operated on a similar principle. Visitors
had learned to accept these beverages, unappealing and harsh to many first-time drinkers.
Other items, while less recognizable, appealed to playfulness, emitted enticing aromas, or
attracted kids interested in sweets. For example, the Hungarian kürtöskalács, a cake
baked around a cylinder and rolled in sugar, unravels like a ball of yarn. Accompanied by
rising aromas of dough baking and vanilla, a stand in front of the Hungarian pavilion
attracted lines of guests after dinnertime. In the Slovenian pavilion, a similar scent of
fried dough rose from a large skillet where smorn, a chopped up pancake caramelized and

53
pan-fried with butter before receiving a shower of powdered sugar and viscous berry
puree. This display attracted questions about the food’s preparation and purchases.
Harnessing novelty or exoticism, countries could attract attention to their cuisines
and pavilions. For example, while the United States predicated their culinary presence on
the uniqueness of a food truck park,17 the Netherlands presented a food truck area that
surpassed the United States’ in design, creativity, quality of food, and atmosphere. The
US played on ideas of American casual dining and a near globally appreciated food with
a sign one might see outside a drive-in theater that proclaimed the presence of burgers
and beer. Simultaneously presenting ingenuity, the other side of the sign read “American
Food 2.0 and kale salad,” showcasing a trendy and healthy food that both marks class
(Studeman 2013) and a reversal of stereotypes depicting a lowbrow, oily, deep-fried
cuisine. However, the Dutch pavilion featured food trucks with unique designs and a
larger range of traditional foods. Even independent Italian food trucks displayed character
and creative versions of American foods that outdid this US pavilion’s atmosphere.
Carrying a sterile design and operating out of trucks missing the design quirks seen in
most food trucks today, the American food truck nation provided a poor approximation of
food truck culture. Replacing the diversity and individuality afforded to entrepreneurs
leading successful food trucks, the menu represented a concession stand’s offerings form
the 90s. Notable exceptions were the lobster rolls, ribs, and the kale salad, an attempt to

17 The phenomenon of the gourmet food truck with an individualized menu is attributed
to America and especially Roy Choi’s Korean taco truck in Los Angeles that announced
its location over Twitter (Chang 2009)

54
showcase American Food 2.0. The pavilion leaned towards foods expected from
America: burgers, hot dogs, chips, etc. rather than the multicultural food consumed today.
While the barbecue chefs preached their food’s authenticity and credited their technique
to an American chef in Milan, the meat sat in reheated sealed bags, leaving small soft
riblets with little resemblance to traditions of Southern barbecue. Furthermore, customers
placed orders at a stand rather than interacting with a food truck’s staff, erasing the
individuality and personality often conveyed by food trucks. However, common
American foods were easily found throughout the EXPO site including in the McDonalds
pavilion (as indicated by someone who actually brought McDonalds into the American
pavilion dining area). Italian food trucks and stands served towering burgers, chicken
wings, and other American classics. Customers at the American food truck nation mainly
ordered lobster rolls, suggesting an interest in new culinary experiences that went
unfulfilled. On the other hand, the Netherlands provided displays of food as spectacle,
with chefs flipping mini pancakes and a seaweed burger stand promoting a slogan of “eat
weed live long.” The silhouette of a cow overlooked visitors bathed in discotheque lights,
sinking into merry-go-round shaped seats, and riding a small ferris wheel. This party-like
food truck meetup atmosphere attracted lounging visitors, showcasing how countries with
less-known cuisines could harness creativity and sensory appeals while countries with
established traditions could forfeit their advantage by underestimating others’ abilities to
serve their cuisine and failing to showcase ingenuity.
However, despite the equalizing power of these aromas and sweet flavors,
countries with less culinary prestige struggled to present their food as spectacle. While

55
the kürtöskalács vendor presented novelty and exoticism though its wooden shack, the
company attracted a different gaze than the Magnum Pleasure Store. Reinventing a
packaged item, the Magnum ice cream bar, the store offered an imposing, yet open
structure where walls too the form of giant letter Ms. Decorated with luxurious gold and
the dark brown of rich chocolate, the store emphasized luxury.18 However, despite the
smooth white counter displaying containers of candies and cookie crumbs like jewels, the
customization of the ice cream bar process began with the same industrially produced,
foil-packaged, too perfectly formed ice cream bar sold in stores around the world.
Nevertheless, a young girl chronicled the process of customizing her own bar with
chocolate dips and toppings, tilting her phone and hopping around to capture every
possible angle of the experience. Occasionally, she would turn the camera back towards
herself and punctuate the film with squeals. Visual symbols of branding and styled,
processed foods attracted individuals without the aromas of fresh foods or the exoticism
of new desserts.
Addressing the Theme “Feeding the World”:
While EXPO’s theme of “Feeding the World” attempted to highlight how global
cooperation and awareness could address issues of hunger, responses to this challenge
instead underlined existing inequalities.

18 Searching for other locations reveals stores in luxury malls that display plastic models
of ice cream bars in display cases for jewelry

56
Towering over the main EXPO entrance, the introductory Pavilion Zero
showcased a cave-painting style logo veering the bones of animals. Inside, sculptures of
livestock highlighted the world’s common food and power sources. According to a
United Nations representative, staff deemed the chamber the “selfie room” due to the
visitors’ appreciation of these universal symbols. Moving from the anthropologic
conditions of man discovering fire and food to the stock market, lights and numbers tied
to food products flashed on walls two stories high in another room. This frantic trading
floor conveyed another message, not only that humans share common roots and needs for
sustenance, but also hold interconnected fate where a weather shift in a producing
country might change the entire world. Visitors lined up outside this introductory
pavilion, appearing to understand the site as a framework for experiencing EXPO.
However, presences from international or private bodies showcased how this
focus on interconnectedness often took on a stratified approach. First of all, the concept
of EXPO itself attracted criticism. With a presence different from any other pavilion,
Slow Food’s open design stood at the furthest end from the EXPO’s entrance. Openly
condemning the acquisition and plans for the EXPO land on the official website, Slow
Food (n.d.) attacked EXPO for hosting big agro-business and multinational corporations
that focus on food as a commodity and financial gain. Conveying a natural aesthetic
through open garden beds and wooden structures, Slow Food asserted its mission that one
must stay attached to the soil and roots of food. Tastings of various cheeses and wines
provided an attraction that appealed to traditional markers of European class and taste but

57
aimed to highlight small-scale producers. Educational tools like books furthered this
environment aimed towards learning rather than appealing to sensory overstimulation.
Nevertheless, this critique stemmed from a place of privilege. Considering how
some countries at EXPO lamented their inability to sustain themselves agriculturally and
others searched for export-based business opportunities, this message of celebrating the
local appeared predicated on economic and cultural capital. After all, language
supporting regional specialties, small-scale producers, and the value of artisanal wine and
cheese appeared throughout the corporate pavilions criticized by Slow Food. For
example, the COOP Supermarket of the Future, a futuristic upgraded store featuring
robotic fruit-packing arms and touch screens, hosted iphone-shaped signs that described
different types of customers. These profiles included the “foodie consumer,” a white
woman dressed in chef’s whites and a toque (the traditional floppy chef’s hat) smiling
while making an OK sign in a home kitchen. The sign described the woman as choosing
“only tasty and high quality products,” and the “veggie consumer” to her left focused on
“organic and natural products.” These caricatures of the privileged first-world consumer
oversimplified the factors that inform customers’ decision-making and ignored the
cultural value of appreciating good food, but their whimsicalness elicited questions.
Making these choices to condemn certain foods while promoting others appeared simpler
for these individuals far removed from the farmers and fishers depicted around the
exposition side. Meanwhile, Eataly, the international Italian foods company, owned a
massive space featuring chefs and restaurants from every region in Italy. Here, samples
of wines and cheese attracted visitors like the Slow Food aperitivo, leveraging the

58
cultural wealth behind these symbols to assert the value of Italian cuisine. Whether
supported by a financial motive to sell more Italian products or a quest for environmental
awareness and cultural preservation, both bodies harnessed the same resource to attract
and persuade visitors.
The European Union pavilion focused on uniting artisan food producers and
farmers with science and research, and this partnership transitioned into humanitarian
missions where the culturally and economically wealthy EU provided food aid and
agricultural support for the developing world. Posters advertised the blonde-haired and
brunette fair-skinned protagonists of the animated film “the Golden Ear,” and upon
entering the queue for the theater, one caught a whiff of an artificially produced scent of
freshly baked bread. These symbols of both raw agricultural wealth and the village
bakery cemented the privileged position of the EU. The film carried somewhat universal
themes of finding love and utilizing higher education to address modern challenges in
farming. After the film, the pavilion connected these themes to the EU’s role in certain
areas including: EU food safety standards, EU benefits for food and agro-tourism
businesses within a “green economy,” and a slightly paternalistic portrayal of an African
village. This scene of humanitarian aid where the film’s characters stood in a Sub-
Saharan village transformed intellectual and economic skills from the developed world
into practical aid for the developing world. Therefore, even charitable contributions
showcased disparities rather than cooperation. Cultural, scientific, and physical
contributions stemmed from European wealth and reached helpless hands.

59
Assessing another international organization, the United Nations, reveals the
geographical stratification inherent to the EXPO layout. Attempting to forward a message
of equality and interconnectedness, the UN implemented a self-described horizontal
approach rather than building a pavilion. A plain white tent utilized for humanitarian
missions was the only structure standing at the organization’s designated space.
Meanwhile, kiosks distributed throughout EXPO marked with bright blue spoons
reaching into the air encased televisions and statistical displays. However, the somewhat
random and peripheral nature of the spoons made them out of the way for many visitors.
Although the UN offered prizes upon completion of a mobile game that required visiting
the different spoons, this quest appeared difficult in the summertime heat (even if
ambitious children pushed their families through the hunt). Interestingly enough, the UN
approached EXPO not as a space for politics or business but for diversion and sought to
educate while entertaining young attendees. A break from the self-promotion
choreographed by agricultural ministries, environmental organizations, gastronomic
associations, and other bodies, this initiative and its inefficacies displayed the difficulty
of displaying a democratic mindset at EXPO. Lacking the funding for eye-catching
displays of architecture, displaying a culture-less presence, and scattering information
throughout the clusters and other areas off the main path, the UN chose not to follow
pavilions’ methods of transforming cultural and economic wealth into influence.
Deviation from this self-promotion led to a lack of attention rather than respect for a
democratic mindset.

60
Epitomized by Russia, certain developed and biodiverse countries placed a
responsibility upon themselves to aid in feeding the world because of their natural and
technological advantages. On an introductory information panel, Russia declared a
unique and enormous potential to guarantee food security for all of humankind. Including
not only a show kitchen but also a “Bar Laboratorio” or “Water Bar,” the pavilion
emphasized natural, cultural, and intellectual abundance. Illuminated in blue neon in a
Tron-like19 aesthetic, the water bar housed a contraption housing cylinders filled with
various colored liquids and nebulous glass blown into devices seen in a mad scientist’s
laboratory. Walls reaching over 15 feet in the air similarly conveyed scientific brilliance
with a periodic table spanning one side of the hall. The opposing face contained hundreds
of sketches of flora in the style of early scientific texts, asserting the nation’s intellectual
stature. Around the corner, color images of a variety of Russian culinary specialties
paneled another surface. Within these walls, the show kitchen offered tastings six times a
day while the water bar offered beverage tastings 10 times a day. Through these displays,
the humble and sacrificial introductory rhetoric behind Russia providing for the world
transformed into a boastful approach that cemented the nation’s might and superiority.
Accentuating this change was the promotion of high-class foods in a bar/caviar
restaurant, a staff with limited interest in guests, and a rooftop vodka bar with sound
system and lighting. Russia sought to support the world not through conservation but
through plenty.

19 The film where characters’ suits are outlined in neon

Shu_Anthony_Thesis_Final

Recommended

Recommended

More Related Content

Similar to Shu_Anthony_Thesis_Final

Similar to Shu_Anthony_Thesis_Final (20)

Shu_Anthony_Thesis_Final