No, a Hot Dog Is Not a Taco

Recently, I got pulled into a classic Internet kerfuffle, only this time, it happened in real life.

Is a hot dog a taco? Are either one of them a sandwich?

Lots of low-stakes Internet trolls LOVE to argue that hot dogs and tacos are, categorically, identical. There’s even a nifty lil chart going around identifying the specific taxonomy and geometry of what constitutes various bread-based items (such as toast, a sandwich, quiche, etc). I’ll admit, it’s tempting to separate food into such neat categories and move on with your day. It’s especially tempting for those in certain professions, I’ve noticed (accountants, web developers).

The problem is: such taxonomies completely divorce the cultural context around food from the food itself. In my view, cultural context is inextricably linked to food in ways that qualification often over-simplifies.

Take dumplings, for example. Recently, a smug pedant in my life posed the question, “if gnocchi is considered pasta, are dumplings considered pasta?” This is presumably because gnocchi is made with potato (as are some dumplings) and some types of pasta are often stuffed (like a dumpling).

Of course not.

Dumplings Are Not Pasta

Gnocchi is delicious regardless of its classification. Photo via unsplash.com

Let’s tackle the pasta side of this first. “Pasta,” by definition, is an Italian word meaning “paste,” Italian being the operative word. Plenty of cultures make noodle-based dishes - think of pad thai, Schnitzel auf Nudeln, or ramen. Gnocchi is considered a pasta not because of its recipe (most pasta is made of durum wheat while gnocchi typically contains potato as well) but because of the way it’s typically prepared and eaten. Much like other types of pasta, the traditional way to make gnocchi involves baking or boiling it and adding a sauce.

In English, some use the words “pasta” and “noodles” interchangeably. However, at the end of the day, “pasta” is used almost exclusively in reference to Italian dishes, specifically. While ravioli and pierogis share some structural similarities, the linguistic context (Italian and Polish, respectively) matters.

More than language, however, the context in which a food is eaten also matters. Take two kinds of “dumplings” (I use that term loosely) for example. Dim sum is a Cantonese dumpling that enjoys popularity across the Asian diaspora as a breakfast (or lunch) food. Pierogis, savory Polish dumplings, on the other hand, are most commonly associated with holidays and special occasions.

Further, the traditional American dumpling bears almost no resemblance to either pierogis or dim sum. More closely akin to a boiled pudding, American dumplings are globs of dough cooked in a broth, and aren’t stuffed with additional ingredients.

Perspective is Everything

In the etymological sense, food definitions are fluid and heavily based on one culture’s interpretation of another culture’s food. Not to get too, “what if we all see colors differently” on you, but cultural context in food matters on two levels: how you perceive familiar foods, and how you perceive unfamiliar foods.

You can easily see this by exploring foods that make various cultures cringe. Australians eat Vegemite (which tastes, in my opinion, like someone scraped hot tar off of their shoe and put it on some toast) with great relish. According to the Internet, Japanese people hate root beer. American cheese is not technically classified as “cheese” by most governments (including the U.S.), yet you’d be hard-pressed to find a diner or burger joint in the U.S. without it. One of the most popular ice cream flavors in northern Canada (Tiger Tail) contains black licorice - a much-maligned flavor.

Flavor profiles are another aspect of cultural nuance that cannot be ignored. I think often of an episode of The Great British Bake Off where the contestants are charged with making a ginger cake and Rahul’s Indian mother expresses her horror during their weekly video chat. In India, ginger is primarily used as part of the larger flavor profile of a savory curry.

Matbucha is a Moroccan tomato sauce that plays a key role in many North African, Mediterranean, & Western Asian dishes (such as shakshuka). Photo via unsplash.com

While there are unifying factors to balanced flavor in all cultures (salt, fat, acid, and heat, of course) the application of those flavors, as well as the specific source of the flavors, varies widely between regions, even for dishes with similar ingredients and flavor profiles. Matbucha, marinara, and salsa are all basically tomato-sauce - but they cannot be meaningfully separated from their cultural origins.

Why Does This Even Matter?

“Now Blair,” you might be saying, “this is really a lot of thought to put into an issue that ultimately doesn’t matter. Doesn’t the classification of food types prove, ultimately, meaningless?”

That, dear reader, is the point I’d most like to refute.

Sure, on its face, this argument seems much like the great dress debate of 2015. Bantering about whether a hot dog is a taco feels divisive in the silliest, most meaningless way. But by seeking to reduce foods to broader and broader categories, you erase the very granularity that makes food so important at a community level.

Food is one of the (if not the primary) marker of a specific culture. As a musician and all-around creative, I am no stranger to mulling over the ways that ephemeral concepts of art and culture form societal bedrocks. Food is an enormous source of memory, emotion, shared experience, and community. As Anthony Bourdain said:

“Meals make the society, hold the fabric together in lots of ways that were charming and interesting and intoxicating to me.”

Specific foods act as cultural shorthands. Much like geneology can help you trace family heritage, the evolution of certain foods over time can take you through history and serve as exemplars of cultural values. Potatoes may have originated in the Andes, but as a cheap source of carbohydrates and fiber, they became so vital to Irish society that the Irish potato famine is one of the most famous and impactful famines of the modern Western era.

Conclusion

In my estimation, biohacking will never take off beyond a few niche weirdos. Firstly, it is at this stage, prohibitively expensive. Secondly, food is indistinguishably linked to pleasure. What is the point of living a biologically impeccable life if you can’t enjoy it?

Why can’t we have tacos and hot dogs? Why reduce a pie to a quiche, or vice versa? Have fun with cultural exploration. Respect the taxonomy already set up by a culture if it is not your own. Be proud of your food. Be proud of your culture.

P.S., cereal is most definitively not a soup. Soup is salty and cereal is not.