Bitter aftertaste: the fraught world of branding cultural food products

Even when first-generation immigrants, rather than big corporations, are the ones selling, and branding, the traditional foods of their culture, they often face the challenge of expressing their personal experiences alongside broader cultural motifs. Significant difficulty lies in the expectation that a single individual can accurately represent an entire culture. For example, an individual from Ghana might struggle to represent not only their specific experience but also to encapsulate the diverse cultures of West Africa or even the entire continent in a way that resonates with both those outside and within the region. During a chat with the founder of Super Spicy Studio, designer Badal Patel, she shares how much pressure she feels trying to “do justice to your culture”. As she puts it: “I am human. I’ve never asked to be a token South Asian designer. It does freak me out — and it’s not something I take lightly.”

Above all, spokespeople for a cultural food must navigate the tension between preserving authentic cultural elements and adapting to the tastes and expectations of a broader market. All projects shown in this feature have done a great job of this: Jen Arsenault’s Potluck, branded by Regrets Only, visually channels its focus on small-batch cooking and traditional flavours. &Walsh’s branding for Mumbai-based Parle Agro, featuring illustrations by Sanchit Sawaria, carefully fuses modernity and idiosyncratic flourishes.

Such brands also frequently encounter challenges such as limited access to resources, difficulties in building networks and a lack of recognition in a market that may not fully appreciate or understand their cultural contributions. One illustrative case study is Fly By Jing, a popular Sichuan condiment brand. Despite growing to be some of the most recognisable Chinese food products in the Western market, Jing Gao, founder of Fly by Jing, recalls that when she first started out, she struggled with lack of awareness and bias against China’s cuisine and people: “Chinese food ranks on the lowest rungs of what’s known as the ‘Hierarchy of Taste’ – society’s judgement of a cuisine’s value based on the socio-economic status of its people. It’s why people are happy to pay hundreds of dollars for French food, but insist that the cheaper Chinese food is, the more ‘authentic’ it is.”

Consumers often have specific expectations around the design of international food packaging, with a preference for “folksy” or traditional aesthetics, which they perceive as more authentic. This trend suggests that many consumers distrust contemporary designs, associating them with a dilution of cultural authenticity. It’s notable, then, that Fly by Jing has a decidedly eclectic and unique approach to its branding: a bright yellow sans serif paired with spiky borders and stripes (designed by the LA and New York-based studio Day Job). But the question remains: do you have a bottle of Lao Gan Ma or Fly by Jing’s Chilli Crisp stocked at home?

When designers use these elements without understanding or respecting their context, they strip them of their original meaning, reducing them to shallow marketing tools. By overlooking the deeper connections and meanings of these symbols, designers risk perpetuating stereotypes and diluting the cultural narratives they draw from, ultimately leading to a loss of authenticity and respect for the cultures that are being represented.

While commodifying one’s culture may be ethically and emotionally taxing for the person who does it, it can be lucrative. One relatively recent example is when David Chang’s brand Momofuku attempted to capitalise on the growing popularity of chilli crisp by filing for a trademark on the term “chile crunch”. This move sparked significant controversy as it was seen as an attempt to monopolise a commonly used term for a popular Asian condiment. When a single person or company claims ownership over a traditional ingredient or dish (remember Alison Roman’s controversial ‘Gentle Lentils’, aka daal, recipe?) it involves asserting exclusive rights to something that is part of a community’s cultural heritage.

It’s said that language and culture change every 50 to 100 kilometres in India. Each state and city is unique for its art, architecture, culture and food, shaped by its own socio-economic, geographic and colonial influences. The state of Maharashtra and Goa are two such regions with exhaustive histories. Goa, ruled by the Portuguese for 450 years, experienced profound influences on its culture, cuisine, Christian heritage and architecture. Studio Bigfat’s work for Goenchi Feni, a type of Indian cashew spirit from Goa, exemplifies this. Growing up in Mumbai, founder Anirudh Mehta had little to no context about the process of procuring feni in a new state. Reflecting on the contrast between packaging in India and America, he asserts, “making something feel more Indian is better than showing a product is Indian.” The design pays homage to Rendeirs, Cazcars and the iconic glass called ‘Garrafãos,’ with panels featuring illustrations of the production process and theatrical depictions of Feni labourers and their tools. “The art of making Feni is dying. There are only two folks in Goa carrying on this tradition. Like Mexico has Tequila, Goa has Feni,” Anirudh notes. “But Feni has always been viewed as country liquor (aka cheap). Goenchi is trying to position the brand in an international market.”

By grounding the design of this product in the unique context from which it emerged, the brand not only preserves the authenticity of these traditions but also brings a richer, more nuanced narrative to the international stage. In an increasingly uniform world, the true value of cultural products lies in their ability to tell these intricate stories with respect and care.

Brands like Fly by Jing and Goenchi Feni demonstrate that it’s possible to respect and preserve cultural heritage while achieving market success – but doing so requires a deep commitment to understanding and collaboration. The symbols and motifs used in cultural branding are more than decorations; they carry history, identity and meaning that deserve to be treated with respect. The growing trend of cultural commodification often leads to the dilution of long-standing traditions, reducing diverse identities to marketable tokens. Authenticity in branding shouldn’t be about catering to Western tastes or simplifying cultural elements for broader appeal. Instead, it should involve creating space for cultural stories to be told truthfully and fully, without simplifying or diluting them to meet broader market expectations. When designers take the time to engage deeply with the cultures they represent, the results are richer, more nuanced and more powerful than any homogenised version of “authenticity” that the industry might offer.

Cultural appropriation isn’t just about who gets to use elements from another culture – it’s about who has the privilege to disengage from that culture when it’s convenient, leaving others to bear the weight of representation, or worse, misrepresentation. When dominant groups appropriate cultural symbols, they often do so with the luxury of stepping in and out of that identity at will, while those within the marginalised culture must live with the consequences of these misrepresentations. The burden of correcting stereotypes and preserving the integrity of cultural narratives falls on the very communities from which these elements originate, revealing a significant power imbalance.

Every cultural dish has a story; the real art is making sure it’s told right. When it’s not, all you get is a bitter aftertaste.