Are Claude Davis's forgotten foods more suitable for specific regions or cultures, and why?

Alright, let's discuss this fascinating topic.

Claude Davis's "Forgotten Foods" – More Like "Grandma's Secret Recipes"

The answer is: Yes, absolutely suitable.

The "forgotten foods" mentioned by Claude Davis in works like The Lost Ways aren't truly extinct. Instead, they've been "forgotten" by our modern, globalized lifestyles. The vast majority of them are intrinsically tied to specific regions, climates, and cultural traditions.

Here's why, from several perspectives:

1. Geography & Climate Are Written in the Food's "DNA"

Imagine eras without global logistics or supermarkets. What you ate was determined purely by what grew or could be raised within roughly ten miles of your home.

  • Example: Pemmican This is a testament to the ingenuity of Indigenous peoples of North America. Living on the Great Plains with abundant bison, they dried the meat, pounded it into powder, and mixed it with rendered fat and berries. This created an extremely calorie-dense food that stored exceptionally well, perfectly suited to their nomadic hunting lifestyle. Tell coastal fishing communities to make this – they didn't have bison, and their humid climate hindered air-drying meat. Salt-curing fish was their likely choice, right?

  • Another Example: Fermented Foods Foods like European sauerkraut, Korean kimchi, and Chinese suancai were invented in colder regions to preserve vegetables through long winters. In tropical climates, people harnessed the heat to ferment distinct foods instead, like Southeast Asian fish sauce.

Therefore, every "forgotten food" wasn't born from imagination alone. It represents the optimal solution locals devised using readily available resources to adapt to their specific climate.

2. Every "Forgotten Food" is a Cultural Story

Food provides sustenance, but it also carries a people's history and cultural practices.

  • Example: Hardtack This was historically the field ration of European sailors and soldiers. Why? Because it contained almost no moisture, was as hard as rock, and could last for years without spoiling. For fleets undertaking voyages lasting months or even years without refrigeration, this was life-saving. Was it tasty? Absolutely not. But it reflected the specific needs of that era of maritime exploration. It's a functional food bearing historical imprints, not a home-cooked dish.

The methods of preparation, occasions for consumption, and even associated rituals represent cultural heritage passed down through generations. Forcing a region's food culture onto another often leads to it "not sitting well" with local conditions.

3. Modern Adaptability: Learn from Them, Don't Apply Bluntly

This doesn't mean we can't enjoy these "forgotten foods" at all, of course. We can learn from the wisdom behind them, such as:

  • Learning the principles of long-term food preservation rather than rigidly replicating a specific food item.
  • Adopting the ethos of using local resources, rediscovering our own "forgotten foods" like the wild edible plants we might have eaten as children in rural areas.

However, if you try to completely replicate them – say, attempting to make authentic pemmican, which requires arid conditions, in humid Southern China – you'd likely need modern equipment (like a dehydrator), losing its most fundamental essence. Similarly, it's incredibly dangerous for someone unfamiliar with local flora to recklessly forage for so-called "superfoods" in the wild.

In Simple Summary

Claude Davis's "forgotten foods" are less a universal "superfood" checklist and more of a reminder. They remind us that in the past, food was deeply intertwined with people, land, and culture.

Therefore, these foods inherently possess strong regional and cultural characteristics. In their place of origin, they are crystallizations of wisdom and perfect adaptations; transplanted elsewhere, they become knowledge "for reference only." They are more like the prized family recipes of grandmothers around the world, treasured in their wooden chests, rather than a universal culinary guidebook.