Classism within Food: Who’s doing the Cooking? 

In the productivity market of the modern age, everyone lives by one motto: time is of the essence. Workers try to reach peak optimization and multi-tasking is rampant with the introduction of fast-consumption social media. It’s apparent with the rise in fast-fashion and Amazon Prime that everyone wants everything as quick as possible. Unsurprisingly, there has been a social push for people to slow down, whether that be through mindfulness, lowering your screen time, or spending more time with loved ones. In an effort to increase family time and bond children and parents, several food writers and intellectuals are calling for a return to the kitchen. They see cooking at home as a path to mindfulness and healthy consumption. In theory, more conscious eating and family time sounds helpful, but in practice, organic ingredients, time consuming labor, and family planning are not feasible for many. The burden of a family dinner might seem small, but especially for working mothers, juggling numerous commitments isn’t an easy task. The new wave of at-home cooking advocacy is not applicable across all socioeconomic classes and ultimately places unfair expectations on women and mothers. 

Before pushes for gender equality and equity, women were mainly restricted to roles within the home, concentrating their focus on household chores like cleaning, and predominantly, cooking for all the family members. Once women started to push for labor inclusion, many thought this would break down the nuclear family. Michael Pollan, in a 2013 Guardian piece titled “Why the family meal is crucial to civilization,” argues that women going to work left people to rely on convenience food in the modern-day. He adds that he would prefer to have both men and women in the kitchen, “not just for reasons of fairness” (Johnson 2013). Not only is this a heteronormative view of the modern American household, but it holds that women are still the standard within the kitchen, with men being a kind of addition to the norm. Though Pollan argues that he doesn’t want to “turn back the clock and return women to the kitchen” (Johnson 2013), rhetoric that posits women as the cause of unhealthy eating habits does that opposite of what the feminist movement wants: it pushes women back into a box. Not only do women have to work long hours for less pay, but they also must take on unpaid labor within the home. This household labor measures their devotion to family and mothering skills, according to sociologist Sharon Hays (Bowen et al. 2014). Therefore, there is a lot of pressure put onto mothers with this new advocacy for home cooked meals. Although foodie intellectuals like Pollan want to even out cooking roles, in practice, that is unlikely to happen. Additionally, the women tend to consider men’s needs over their own when it comes to preparing meals (Bowen et al. 2014), possibly leaving their pleasure with food and nutrition on the back burner to conform to men’s wants. In a utopia, one might wish for a nice, home-cooked meal that was prepared and eaten by the whole family, but with current gender expectations, a societal push for family meals as the only method of family bonding and healthy eating leaves women, and especially mothers, with more work and less payoff.  

Gender is not the only issue within cooking spheres; there is a large class divide that inhibits the real application of healthy at-home cooking as a viable option. Pollan argues that fast food and convenience options are the real killer when it comes to obesity and family connection (Johnson 2013), but contrary to stereotypes that poor families are reliant on fast food, many opt for home-cooked meals because it is cheaper (Bowen et al. 2014). Working mothers, even those who are tired of cooking and can barely pay the bills, still cook because it is economical, despite the hardships of time management and coordination that come with family meals (Bowen et al. 2014). The pressure on families, then, is less about beginning to cook at home, but rather what they are cooking. Foodie intellectuals call for fresh ingredients, testing out recipes, and no microwave use (Johnson 2013), which are all hard for families who are already living bill-to-bill. Fresh fruits, vegetables, and lean meats, all ingredients seen as healthier for home-cooked meals, cost about $550 more a year per person to integrate into a family’s diet (Bowen et al. 2014). Not only are expenses a barrier to fresh ingredients, but many low-income families lack personal transportation, or live in areas with unreliable public transportation, forcing them to shop less often than usual, sometimes only once a month (Bowen et al. 2014). This increases reliance on preservative-based foods or frozen meals because many parents don’t want to waste money on food that is likely to go bad. Pollan argues though, that food is only one aspect of family meals. He asserts that bonding is also a core component of at-home cooking, but even bonding has a price. Some ideas he offers for family bonding include experimental cooking, even “[brewing] your own beer now and again” to bond with your teenagers (Johnson 2013). The recommendations come from a place of privilege, where families have money for these activities or are okay with food waste that comes from experimentation. Food waste is already a large issue within low-income households, with mothers opting to cook the same foods over and over because expensive or experimental foods might not be popular among all family members (Bowen et al. 2014). The possibility that kids wouldn’t eat meals that are out of their preference leaves open the risk of “wasting money and food,” and mothers continue to make meals they don’t like themselves to satisfy others (Bowen et al. 2014). Mother’s face an emotional burden when they encounter economic stress in the kitchen and a push to increase health and mindfulness in the kitchen is likely to exacerbate both social and monetary anxiety. 

While cost is a worrisome component for low-income families for many at-home meals, time can be scarcer. Especially for dual-income families with both parents working wage jobs, transportation to and from work coupled with long hours shortens the amount of family time they have, and cooking cuts into that time even more (Bowen et al. 2014). Parents without salaried jobs are reliant on unpredictable schedules, which positions them to scrounge for meals at the end of work days, often resulting in no set mealtime and catch-all dinners (Bowen et al. 2014). The issue of time arises a lot within the foodie push for at-home cooking, as advocates tout cooking as a chance to slow down and be mindful. For example, Michael Pollan recommends cooking onions for 40 minutes as a chance to disconnect and be present (Johnson 2013). He views this as a lesson in patience but fails to imagine that many people cannot spend their time doing so. If we place so much emphasis on cooking to disconnect, be present, and bond with others, then people who don’t have time to do so are left in the dust. Time spent cooking often means time away from small children, helping them with homework or just sitting with them (Bowen et al. 2014), and that means cooking can sometimes be a barrier to family bonding rather than a plentiful opportunity.

 Along with the assumption of time abundance, at-home cooking advocates fail to consider that not everyone has ample infrastructure for large meals. Some families live in transient locations, from hotel rooms to trailers, that don’t offer much other than microwaves and the periodic pest infestation (Bowen et al. 2014). The ideal version of a kitchen is hard to acquire for many, despite it being instrumental in the volume and health of meals (Bowen et al. 2014). Not everyone has a “thick slab of elm” (Johnson 2013) to gather around as a dinner table, let alone a stove to cook at. If the apex of family is seen as time spent together in the kitchen and at meals, many low-income working families are left out of what might be seen as the “optimal” family structure. Options for healthy meals and recipes that are low cost need to be more abundant as an option for families that lack time and money for what Pollan posits as the “center of family life” (Johnson 2013). 

Though foodies support at-home cooking across all backgrounds, many of the advocates for organic and mindful eating come from privileged positions, lacking true connection to many families in the US. Famous chefs and food intellectuals, like Michael Pollan and Dan Barber, preach to an audience that is mainly middle or upper class in the hope that their ideas trickle down to a greater audience. However, as their sustainable practices and progressives ideas are only accessible to a small, wealthy audience, it leaves many low-income families constantly looking for improvements within the kitchen that are economically feasible. The larger issue here is that food intellectuals want to change the eating habits of families that are already scarce for resources, and in some ways, are asking families to incite a cultural change that is of little priority to everyday cooks. When worrying about paying rent or if food will be on the table for dinner, participating in organic agriculture or eating “food cooked by humans rather than corporations” (Johnson 2013) is an idealist way of life. Therefore, the answer to classism within food spaces does not come from a trickledown privileged position, but from a place of collectivism. If we only place emphasis on change within the kitchen, we place the burden on mothers and families who could rely on something else: larger communities. There could be pushes for town suppers (Bowen et al. 2014) or neighborhood potlucks. There could also be changes within the school systems that offer better alternatives for kids during school and districts might institute programs that send kids home with dinners to reduce the stress on parents, ensuring food is on the table after long days of work. The expectation that all families can participate in family bonding around the dinner table excludes a large socioeconomic group and ignores the ways that communities can band together. Rather than placing the burden on parents to teach children to cook (Johnson 2013), schools could institute mandatory home economics courses so kids can learn about food and cooking while learning about healthy eating habits. Cooking within family units, then, could include kids too, and it would release pressure on the parents to teach kids skills and eating habits. Parents might have more time to bond with their children and relax, rather than panicking about meal time. 

It’s easy to agree with Micheal Pollan. Sure, we all want to bond with our loved ones, all want to eat healthy meals, and all want to experience family life to the fullest extent. Nevertheless, we inhabit a world where safe housing is a luxury and organic ingredients are sold at large markups. Families, and especially mothers, face the burden of a world that increasingly pressures them to be a part of a cooking revolution. However, any kind of reform or advocacy towards healthy and fulfilling cooking cannot be done by individual family units: it must be done through community. When people band together, they don’t just support one another with food and fresh ingredients, but can also break through social expectations, ultimately leading to food experiences that support everyone, not just the top percent. 

Works Cited

Johnson, R. (2013, May 25). Michael Pollan: Why the family meal is crucial to civilisation. The Guardian. Retrieved October 16, 2022, from https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2013/may/25/michael-pollan-family-meal-civilisation 

Bowen, S., Elliott, S., & Brenton, J. (2014). The joy of cooking? Contexts, 13(3), 20–25. https://doi.org/10.1177/1536504214545755