A few weeks ago, Ted Chiang published an essay titled “Why A.I. Isn’t Going to Make Art” in the New Yorker, where he argues that A.I. language models are not programmed to make meaningful art. He elaborates that the meaning of art does not derive from the inherently unique qualities of a given piece. Rather, the value of art can be measured through the cumulative interactions artists have had with what has come before them and the choices artists actively make that fundamentally impact the finished results. On the other hand, the final output of any A.I. language model is an amalgamation of preexisting choices that are neither particularly interesting or moving. Simply put, for as long as A.I. language models are incapable of making the overt and covert decisions that we, as human beings, are able to make with relative ease, then A.I.-generated art will always be derivative and never bring any meaning into the world.
Social media algorithms pose similar issues for food. With the advent of algorithms changing from chronological order to personalized feeds–along with the rise of social media marketing, influencers, and content creators–how we interact with food online has also shifted. The careful curation of food content is as much preoccupied with the quality of the food being presented as it is concerned with feeding an algorithm that typically rewards the user with views and likes, but best of all, a loyal following. Foodservice establishments that generate a dedicated online following can usually garner new or loyal customers. Based on the amount of followers, food content creators have the ability to generate sources of income via ad revenues, creator funds, or brand collaborations. Media companies, such as The New York Times and the Los Angeles Times, have also been able to create a dedicated audience through their food content.
The use of social media as a means to create financial opportunities for businesses, influencers, and content creators is not a problem in and of itself. The issue is, instead, inherent to the actual function of a personalized algorithm and how we engage with them, through the use of food, in order to reap their benefits.
Much like A.I. language models, personalized algorithms are pattern-driven. Through data mining and machine learning, these algorithms analyze a user’s behavior, preferences, and interactions to curate a feed that will retain the user’s interest for as long as possible. This usually consists of content that uses the same text and camera effects, trending music or sounds, and creates trends that others can easily participate in. Such personalized algorithms are meant to reinforce behaviors and preferences a user is already biased towards. This heavily suppresses a user’s ability to discover and engage with other forms of content through the algorithm. In this way, the function of a personalized algorithm is much more akin to an echo chamber than it is a means for the discovery of new information. According to the algorithm, if the content is deemed incapable of keeping a user on the platform to the greatest extent possible, it will not reward the content with views and likes, and will most certainly not reward a user with a following.
With the onset of each new trend, this cycle of recursive reproduction propagates once again across users’ feeds. If certain music, sounds, or editing styles are currently trending, an account or user is essentially obliged to use the same formatting because, according to the platform, this is what should constitute successful content. However, there is no guarantee that a photo or video that follows all of the platforms’ guidelines will be rewarded with views and likes. There is also, then, no guarantee that following such guidelines equates to social media visibility. Instead, what these guidelines and algorithms tend to create are sounds and food trends that fall in popularity as easily as they appeared.
The visibility and success of food businesses and food content creators on social media are at the behest of ever-changing algorithms and giant tech companies who oversee these changes. These personalized algorithms were never meant to prioritize the visibility or success of small businesses, influencers, or content creators. The very function of these algorithms is to maintain a user on a platform for as long as possible, in order to yield the largest profits for the tech company that owns both the algorithm and the platform. If the algorithm assesses that a user, on average, engages with fifteen-second long videos, then the algorithm will only continue to feed duplications of such videos to the user. Food businesses, influencers, and content creators are then pushed to create content that may garner millions of views and likes, and perhaps a couple thousand followers, but the content itself is derivative and uninspired. In turn, accounts or users who do not want to partake in the latest food trends or use trending music and camera effects are rendered obsolete.
The looming pressure to create content that performs well necessitates the regurgitation of the same ephemeral food trends, uninspired recipes, or ridiculous food hacks–all of which are counterintuitive to food’s role in our culture and society. Food is incredibly malleable and it is within this malleability where the significance of food emanates from. It is precisely why a recipe for a single dish can either be replicated in the home or some version of the same dish can only be executed with the tools of a fine dining kitchen. The same dish can also vary region to region and family to family, depending on the availability of local ingredients. Food is also an index of complex global connections in which the utilization of the same ingredient has been seamlessly adapted into different cuisines. The exchange of cooking techniques, methods, or flavor profiles from one region to another, or one culture to another, is also an indication of the creativity intrinsic to food and food-making. In understanding food in this way, the hypocrisy of social media platforms and their algorithms become all the more clear. How can platforms ask food content creators to be unique and memorable, while also implementing algorithms that deliberately create and champion redundancy?
The constant prioritization of fickle algorithms, that care neither about the quality of the food or food content created, fundamentally stagnates the creativity and imagination of both the person creating content and the user who engages with it. Food is, and has always been, a practice of love and care. The food we create is a product of intricate histories and social interactions that long came before us. People have always used food as a way of translating parts of their culture, identity, knowledge, and memories into something edible. Food cannot be reduced to trends, insipid recipes, or gimmicky hacks because these things are simply incapable of capturing the intimacy of food. Social media platforms and personalized algorithms may have disillusioned us into believing that the inherent value of food, and by extension ourselves, is obtained through virality. The essence of food, however, will always derive from our collective desire to connect through our shared experiences and to convey those experiences in tangible ways.


Blueberry and Peach Cornmeal Shortcake
Ingredients
For the cornmeal biscuits:
- 2 ¼ cup all-purpose flour
- ½ cup yellow cornmeal plus extra for topping
- 1 tbsp baking powder
- ½ tsp baking soda
- 2 tbsp granulated sugar
- 1 ¼ tsp kosher salt
- ¾ cup unsalted butter frozen
- ¾ cup buttermilk cold and shaken, plus extra for topping
- ½ tsp vanilla extract
- 1 tbsp turbinado sugar optional
For the macerated blueberries and peaches:
- 3 large peaches washed and dried
- 1 ¼ cup fresh blueberries washed and dried
- 2 tbsp honey
- 1 tbsp orange zest
- 2 tbsp orange juice
- ¼ tsp kosher salt
For the mascarpone whipped cream:
- 1 cup heavy cream
- 1 tbsp vanilla paste or vanilla extract
- ¼ cup powdered sugar
- 4 oz. mascarpone cold
Instructions
For the cornmeal biscuits:
- Make room in your freezer so that a large bowl and full-sheet pan can comfortably fit.
- Preheat the oven to 400°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside.
- In a large bowl, whisk together the all-purpose flour, cornmeal, baking powder, baking soda, granulated sugar, and salt until combined.
- Using the large holes of a box grater, grate the frozen butter into the bowl. With very clean hands, gently toss the butter with the flour until the pieces are just coated with the flour. Place the bowl in the freezer for 5 minutes.
- Whisk the buttermilk and vanilla extract together. Add the buttermilk to the flour mixture. With a rubber spatula, mix until the dough begins to come together.
- Dump the dough onto a clean work surface. Turn the dough over onto itself about 8 to 10 times until it forms one solid mass.
- Shape the dough into a 4×4” square that is 1” thick. With a very sharp knife, cut the dough into 6 biscuits. When cutting the biscuits, be sure to lift the knife directly up from the dough, instead of dragging the knife across the dough.
- Transfer them onto the prepared baking sheet, leaving them 2” apart. Place in the freezer for 15 minutes.
- Brush the tops with buttermilk. Sprinkle cornmeal and turbinado sugar over the top. Bake the biscuits for 20 to 25 minutes, or until they have puffed up and are golden brown on the top.
- When the biscuits are ready, remove from the oven and allow them to cool. As they cool, prepare the rest of the toppings.
For the macerated blueberries and peaches:
- Carefully cut the peaches in half, remove the seeds, and cut the halves into ¼” thick slices. Add them to a large bowl.
- Add the blueberries to the same bowl, along with the honey, orange zest and juice, and salt. Gently toss until the honey has dissolved and the fruits have just begun to release their juice.
- Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and allow the blueberries and peaches to macerate for 10 minutes.
For the whipped mascarpone and assemble:
- Add the heavy cream, vanilla paste, and powdered sugar to a large bowl. With a hand mixer, beat the heavy cream until it has barely thickened, about 2 minutes.
- Scrape the bowl and add the mascarpone. Beat the heavy cream and mascarpone together for another minute or until soft peaks form. Do not over beat! The mascarpone can easily split and curdle.
- When the biscuits have cooled, slice them in half and add a generous spoonful of the whipped mascarpone over the bottom half. Spoon the peaches and blueberries, along with their juice, over the top and add another heaping spoonful of the whipped mascarpone. Gently place the other half on top and serve immediately.
Enjoy! <3




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