Central and Eastern European countries have been producing books about their cuisines as a form of gastrodiplomacy. Will such initiatives succeed in giving more visibility to these food cultures?

For those like me who were introduced to Ukrainian cuisine (or, at least, its American adaptation) in the restaurants of the East Village in NYC, it is a pleasant surprise to read the first (to my knowledge) book about Ukrainian cuisine that has been written specifically to present it abroad. Ukraine: Food and History, which can be downloaded for free, does not hide its nature as public relation endeavor. Produced with the support of a public institution, the Ukrainian Institute, the book is meant – as its introduction states – to “facilitate international connections between people and institutions, and create opportunities for Ukraine to interact and cooperate with the rest of the world.“

The volume was authored by local experts, historians, and academics (full disclosure: I know one of its authors, Ihor Lylo, a native of Lviv) as part of the educational and research project Ïzhakultura (website in Ukrainian only). According to its website, the publishing house Ïzhak strives to “preserve and convey to readers ancient culinary techniques, folk recipes, regional food practices that are part of the intangible heritage of Ukrainians, as well as to update other important issues related to gastronomic research in such promising areas as food anthropology, food safety, and gastronomic history.”

In the introduction, we read: “In the modern globalised world, food serves as an entry point to a country’s culture, history, traditions and lifestyle. Food unites us and creates a positive atmosphere for communication, important not only for family and friends but also in establishing diplomatic relations. Food presentation, tableware and table decor, and the atmosphere they create, are all part of the dining experience. This was exactly the thinking behind the Ukrainian Institute’s decision to select culinary diplomacy as one of its focus areas.”

Nothing wrong with that. These efforts are quite timely. Besides a few beloved specialties like pierogi, kielbasa or borsch, Central and Eastern European cuisines have not enjoyed great popularity or renown outside of diasporas and the neighborhoods in cities where they settled (for instance, the East Village in NYC where I encountered them in the late 1990s). Most consumers outside of Poland, Ukraine, or Lithuania would be hard pressed to come up with specific dishes and ingredients, also because few restaurants and stores exist to present those culinary traditions to outsiders. Of course that does not mean that those cuisines are uninteresting or boring: there is plenty to discover and appreciate. In the five years I have been  exploring Polish cuisine I have been introduced to a world of flavors that continues to surprise me at each turn.

Beautifully illustrated with gorgeous photography, Ukraine: Food and History looks at culture and practices in the present, but also tries to frame them in a broader context, both in terms of time and space. It introduces local customs as an aspect of gastronomic heritage, “a soft power with all the potential to become another powerful tool to propagate Ukrainian culture, preserve cultural diversity and advocate for the country’s interests.” The volume starts by familiarizing readers with different flavors (sweet, sour, pickled, smoked) as characteristic of the sensory landscape of Ukrainian cuisine. It then proceeds to present dishes and products, the local traditions of hospitality and table habits, and finally specific dishes. More than thirty recipes are included, at times adapted to make them more accessible to foreign cooks.

Ukraine is not the first country in the area to engage with these forms of gastrodiplomacy. Poland, where a food studies community is growing and academic research is conducted on the topic, has also leveraged its gastronomy as a way to announce itself to the world. My first contact with Polish gastronomy in 2016 happened through an invitation of the Adam Mickiewicz Institute, funded by the Ministry of Culture and National Heritage with the goal to promote the Polish language and Polish culture abroad. Its website culture.pl has been dedicating space to food (further disclosure: I have been asked to write the foreword for an upcoming series of articles on Polish cuisine).

Already in 2011, on the occasion of the Polish presidency of the European Union, food expert Monika Kucia wrote the small Cuisine Pl. The booklet already adopted the structure in which culturally meaningful, core ingredients (strawberries, beetroot, duck, pickled cucumbers, and others) are presented together with traditional recipes in the interpretation by noted (mostly local) chefs. In the competition “Public Diplomacy 2020 – A New Dimension,” the Ministry of Foreign Affairs published an introduction to Polish food, The Polish Table by Magdalena Tomaszewska-Bolałek, which is also beautifully illustrated, provides some information about the local food history, focuses on some core ingredients, and includes a dozen recipes. The book builds on a previous publication by the same author, Polish Culinary Paths, with the collaboration of famed chef Aleksander Baron and produced in collaboration with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs as well, together with the Polish Embassy in Seoul. Both books, which contain different recipes, can be downloaded free of charge, as gastrodiplomacy tools should be. Poland also organizes event focusing on its culinary culture. I have participated in a couple, one at The New School and one at the Museum of Food and Drink in Brooklyn, during which Monika Kucia created sensory experiences for participants, so that smells, flavors, sounds, and textures complemented what they were learning about Polish food.

Lithuania, so far, has supported the production a couple of books through the Lithuanian Institute of Culture, both authored by Rimvydas Laužikas and Antanas Astraukas. However, the focus of these volumes was more specific. The first one, Wie die gepökelte Stier nach Konstanz fuhr. Kulinarische Wechselbeziehungen Zwischen Litauen und Deutschland (How the cured path went to Konstanz: Culinary Relationships between Lithuania and Germany, with 31 recipes) came out in 2017 for the Leipzig book fair, while How the Future King of England Ate Peacock in Vilnius: The Shared Cultural, Political and Culinary History of Britain and Lithuania was released in 2018 for the London Book Fair, in which the Baltic states had the status of special guests. These publications are definitely more highbrow than the Ukrainian and Polish ones, as they were meant for very particular audiences. However, they also reflect a form of gastrodiplomacy in which books play an important role.

Other countries have chosen other strategies. Peru is leveraging its chefs, who are becoming global stars, and the growing popularity of its cuisine and its amazing agrobiodiversity. Korea promoted its products and culture in connection with the K-wave (the interest in all things Korean, especially pop music). Thailand launched a program to support Thai restaurant abroad, which are supposed import Thai product and hire Thai chefs. Chefs from Central and Eastern European countries do travel and represent their national gastronomies in contests, events, fairs, and TV shows around the world. Polish products are present in international food fairs, taking advantage of more traditionally commercial venues. Maybe because of the relative lack of visibility and the small numbers of restaurant abroad, when it comes to culture and gastrodiplomacy Central and Eastern European countries also seem to be investing on slightly more highbrow initiatives, which are arguably geared towards more educated segments of the international audience. Will their bet pay off?