Thus, although scholars have acknowledged the role of place in shaping taste, it is primarily as a setting or backdrop to social interactions that play a more important role in defining social superiority (Cheyne and Binder 2010). In this chapter, we want to go beyond this perspective to consider how taste and place work jointly and dynamically to reproduce social inequality.
The Taste of Gentrification
The way taste and place influence each other is uniquely visible in gentrifying neighborhoods, where rapid demographic change and associated social tensions can be witnessed in the foodscape. In these previously neglected urban areas, the transformation of the material and discursive food environment creates what we call a “taste of gentrification” which in turn exacerbates the process of cultural and spatial displacement (see also chapters 2, 3, and 5).
Recent research, including work published in this volume, has highlighted the role of food in promoting gentrification. Studies have focused primarily on two elements of urban foodscapes, including so-called alternative food spaces such as community gardens and farmers’ markets (Joassart-Marcelli and Bosco 2018b; Paddock 2015), and new retailers like upscale supermarkets (Anguelovski 2015), craft breweries (Matthews and Picton 2014), coffee shops, and artisanal food boutiques (Zukin et al. 2009). Many of these spaces display an urban aesthetic of simplicity and authenticity, while seemingly embracing ideals of community, sustainability, and food justice (Bosco and Joassart-Marcelli 2017; Joassart-Marcelli and Bosco 2018b). However, they tend to attract primarily affluent and white people and exclude longtime residents who do not have the time, financial resources, and/or cultural capital to enjoy them (Slocum 2007; Guthman 2008). As more people are drawn to these new food spaces and the bohemian character of the neighborhood, lower-income households are eventually displaced financially and physically by rising rents and ensuing evictions, as well as culturally and emotionally through a lost sense of place and belonging (Zukin 2008; Kern 2015). This seriously challenges the legitimacy of the moral claims that are explicitly or implicitly made through various representations of the changing foodscape.
Together these studies point to changing urban dynamics that are partly reflected in current debates within the literature on gentrification regarding the relative role of political-economic and cultural forces. Early studies of gentrification emphasized the process of capital accumulation that led investors to allocate financial resources to neighborhoods they had previously abandoned (see Lees, Slater, and Wyly 2008). The return to inner-city neighborhoods was motivated by a rent gap that promised significant economic returns and was facilitated by a political elite eager to capitalize from redevelopment (Smith 1996). In recent years, however, scholars have drawn attention to the cultural aspects of gentrification, including the appeal of urban consumption lifestyles associated with creativity, bohemia, and authenticity (Zukin 2008). This newer research tends to attribute gentrification to changing individual preferences for urban living rather than to a political-economic structure that encourages an inflow of capital in particular areas (see Lees et al. 2008). In this framework, consumption is prioritized over production as an explanation for the changing character of urban neighborhoods. This perspective has been criticized for minimizing the negative effects of gentrification and “gut[ting] the concept of its inherent class character” (Slater 2008: 216).
Understandings of gentrification do not need to be so dichotomous, as Hammett (1991) suggested long ago. Building on this recognition, we argue that the place-based conceptualization of taste outlined above might be helpful in bridging cultural explanations of gentrification that emphasize lifestyles with political-economic theory highlighting the role of class and capital. In many gentrifying urban neighborhoods, the interaction of taste and place produces a certain urban imaginary that facilitates capital accumulation. Urban elites, including developers, public officials, leaders of cultural economies, and the media, work hand-in-hand to create cultural representations of urban places and lifestyles that reward investors and favor affluent residents (Hollows et al. 2014; Vanalo 2008). Restaurants, public markets, gardens, food festivals, and breweries are increasingly important parts of efforts deployed to maximize symbolic value and minimize the risk of investing in neglected neighborhoods (Joassart-Marcelli and Bosco 2018a). In immigrant neighborhoods, the idea of authenticity has been particularly important in adding value to the food landscape. New and revamped restaurants attracting urban elites and educated tourists are frequently described as serving “authentic” food created by an “innovative chef” and served by “a very attractive girl with great vintage tattoos.” In contrast, older establishments that primarily serve a local, immigrant, and low-income clientele are perceived as “cheap joints” where “cooks” who “barely speak English” and have “dirty nails” prepare “cheap,” “fast,” and “filling” food. This contrast points to a contradiction in the concept of authenticity, which relies on outsiders to define what is presumably original and local. Indeed, newcomers’ understanding of what is authentic does not resonate with long-term residents, whose more proximate claim of authenticity is being dismissed by racist and classist biases.
The food spaces that are viewed as authentic by food experts and affluent consumers are instrumental in permitting new residents to exhibit the sort of omnivorousness and cosmopolitanism that is currently considered in good taste (Johnston and Baumann 2010). Through these spaces, new residents simultaneously make spatial claims on gentrifying neighborhoods and create symbolic boundaries between themselves and longtime residents. The taste of gentrification becomes a strategy for urban redevelopment; it is not merely an expression of consumer preference, but a social distinction that is carefully produced by developers and foodies based on a set of consumption objects, activities, and places that encourage capital accumulation. Although it wants to be authentic, omnivorous, and cosmopolitan, the taste of gentrification perpetuates inequality through social exclusion and physical displacement.
In this chapter, we are interested in understanding how taste facilitates gentrification by creating symbolic boundaries and social distinction through unique urban imaginaries. Elsewhere we have published research documenting the food practices of urban residents and their experiences with neighborhood change. Here, we seek to analyze representations of food spaces and focus primarily on media content, including online local food publications (e.g., restaurant reviews and neighborhood guides) and social media. We identify and map key themes from these various media sources in order to document recent changes in the layout and representations of gentrifying foodscapes. Interpretation of these data will be facilitated by our intimate knowledge of these neighborhoods, where we have conducted extensive fieldwork including audits, interviews, surveys and participant observation, for over a decade.
Urban Geographies of Food Gentrification
We chose to focus on the neighborhoods of Barrio Logan and North Park in San Diego, California because they both face high gentrification pressure but differ in their appeal to elite urban consumers. There has been significant demographic change in both