By: Claire Scafidi

Introduction

Despite Thai people making up just 0.1% of the United States’s population, there are 10,000 Thai restaurants across the country, making the cuisine one of the most popular choices among Americans. Why is the ratio of restaurants to immigrants disproportionate? How did Thai food become so popular in the U.S.? The answer is found in a policy Thailand invented: gastrodiplomacy. 

What is Gastrodiplomacy?

The term “gastrodiplomacy” was first used in a 2002 article by The Economist discussing Thailand’s Global Thai Program. Food has been a part of traditional diplomacy since ancient times, with diplomats being treated to incredible dinners. Food is highly personal to one’s family, culture, and individual sense of self, and considering the personal is political, food has the potential to be deeply political. Gastrodiplomacy can improve a state’s image using soft power and name-brand recognition. Soft power uses persuasive power and cultural institutions to exert a state’s goals. Cultural practices are a new important feature of soft power as food can create cultural awareness as foreigners begin to recognize and appreciate the culture. Studying gastrodiplomacy and its effects is challenging, which leads to a need for more empirical data supporting the term. Results of gastrodiplomacy include tourism, increased restaurant opening, food exports, and inbound foreign direct investment. Gastrodiplomacy broadly seems to encourage exports for countries with a lesser democracy level as food transcends the issue of democracy. Gastrodiplomacy aims to influence “the people” rather than the “elite” to increase its audience and international influence. Food influences our decision-making, as sharing a meal increases positive social behavior. Through gastrodiplomacy, the country’s platform is expanded to foreign countries. In Thailand, restaurants serve as cultural diplomats, creating a positive image for the country. Since Thailand’s program, several other countries, such as Japan, South Korea, Taiwan, and Peru, have forayed into the realm of gastrodiplomacy. 

Global Thai Program 

In 2002, the Global Thai Program was created as a diplomatic initiative to increase Thai restaurants worldwide by implementing policies to make it easier for Thai restaurants to import Thai food, train Thai chefs, and access financing plans. Specifically, the goal was to increase exports and its name-brand recognition. Between 10,000 and 15,000 Thai restaurants were opened on behalf of the Global Thai Program. Thailand used gastrodiplomacy to increase agricultural exports and rebrand itself as the ‘kitchen to the world.’ The explicit goal of the Global Thai Program in 2002 was to increase the global demand for Thai food by internationalizing the cuisine. The success of the Global Thai Program has transformed Thai food from being perceived as ‘exotic’ to becoming a part of mainstream American take-out culture– a clear indication of the impact of gastrodiplomacy. 

Following the success of the Global Thai Program, Thailand launched a second initiative: Thailand: Kitchen of the World. This initiative aimed to introduce Thais to their unique culinary history and culture and teach foreigners about Thai cuisine. The Thai government played a crucial role in this, encouraging Thai investors to invest in restaurants, providing large budgets, creating Thai culinary schools explicitly geared towards chefs aiming to work abroad, and loaning money to foreign Thai restaurants. The proactive role of the Thai government in promoting Thai cuisine and culture through these initiatives is a testament to their commitment to preserving and sharing their culinary heritage. 

Pad Thai 

Pad Thai, a dish widely known in the U.S., was a significant part of the Global Thai Program despite its origins in a Chinese dish. The flavors of Pad Thai are distinctly Thai, and it was primarily invented and popularized in 1938 during a rice shortage to promote rice noodles, which used 50% less grain. Using ‘pad, ‘ a Thai word for fried, this innovation distinguished Pad Thai in Thai culture. The Thai prime minister at the time, Plaek Phibunsongkram, emphasized the importance of a national culture and a national dish. During World War II, Pad Thai also created a sense of nationalism in Thailand as a cheap street food option that many Thai families relied on. The cultural significance of Pad Thai, its unique flavors, and its role in Thai history make it a dish that connects people to the rich and diverse Thai culture. 

Today, Thai Food, especially Pad Thai, is a popular American take-out choice due to the success of the Global Thai Program. Its distinct Thai flavors and function as a street food has made it a unique part of Thai culture. The essential ingredients of Pad Thai include meat, tamarind, palm sugar, fish sauce, eggs, dried shrimp, garlic, tofu, salted radish, peanuts, rice noodles, and bean sprouts. However, the recipe for Pad Thai is open to interpretation, leading to various delicious and unique variations. Marie Wilson wrote “Siamese Cookery,” the first Thai Cookbook published in the United States. It was a cookbook that simplified and Americanized Thai recipes. 

Next time you eat a variation of Pad Thai or drive past one of the numerous Thai restaurants in your city, remember the origins of gastrodiplomacy and the soft power covertly exerted.

Part of the Diplomatic Dish series

By Joshua Walker

Art by Lily Hearn

Every October 31st, children and adults in Western Europe, the United States, Canada, and elsewhere don their favorite costumes and wander the streets in search of the best candy spots. Pumpkin carving is a common activity in the weeks leading up to Halloween, and following the spooky night, November exhibits dishes featuring the orange gourd – anything from pumpkin pasta to pumpkin curry and, of course, pumpkin pie. This year alone, it is estimated Americans will spend over $840 million just on carving pumpkins, which is a 12% increase from 2022. But how did pumpkins and Halloween become such an intrinsic part of Western culture? It turns out the answer is found in ancient Celtic tradition, an Irish trickster, and the Roman Catholic Church.

The Ancient Celts of Western and Northern Europe annually celebrated what they called Samhain, or “summer’s end” in Gaelic, each November 1st. The festival marked the beginning of the harsh winter, often leading to a high death count in the coming months, and the arrival of the spirits of the dead on Earth as the nights became longer. During this time of year, it quickly became tradition to dress in dark, ghostly clothing in an effort to prevent wandering spirits from bothering you. After the rise of the Roman Empire and the rapid diffusion of Catholicism in the early centuries CE, the Church sought to extinguish any traces of what they deemed “pagan holidays.” In the 800s, Pope Gregory III declared November 1st All Saints’ Day — or Alholowmesse (All Hallows, or “saints”) in Middle English — to honor the Church’s saints and martyrs. The evening before was called All Hallows’ Eve, or Halloween. Eventually, the Celtic pagan traditions of Samhain quickly fused into the Catholic event, a fusion that persisted after the fall of the Roman Empire in the fifth century and the subsequent rise of European feudal states.

By the 19th century, the legend of a man named Stingy Jack was commonplace in Irish folklore. According to myth, he had repeatedly tricked the Devil during his lifetime, and both Heaven and Hell refused him entry upon his untimely demise. Forced to roam Earth endlessly after death, the Devil gave Jack a coal ember to light his way. Soon, the Irish and Scots began making their own version of Jack out of carved turnips and beets to light the path of wandering spirits.

Before the earliest European settlers and colonists arrived, Native Americans revered the indigenous pumpkin as a major part of their diet. The flesh was used for soups or dried to make a kind of flour, the seeds were roasted as a snack, and the skin was dried to make mats. The orange gourd became a popular Jack-o’-lantern substitute when Irish and Scottish immigrants came to the U.S. in the mid-19th century, an immigration wave encouraged by the promise of religious freedom and stronger property rights. While the traditional myths of spirits and Stingy Jack have subsided for a more consumer, family-friendly approach to Halloween, the humble pumpkin has become synonymous with North American autumnal culture. So, the next time you’re enjoying a pumpkin spice latte or Thanksgiving pie, you can thank the Celts for their reverence of the dead, the Catholic Church for its terrifying ability to assimilate other religions via conquest, and Stingy Jack for being a devilish trickster.

Bread is at the core of mealtimes around the world. Whether it’s charred South Asian roti, rich Jewish challah, or classic American white bread, some form of carbs find a place at most dinner tables. It’s no surprise that such a cheap and filling food has become a global staple, but what is surprising is bread’s culturally competitive nature, particularly in Western Europe.

Between the 1950s and 1970s, the French and Italian economies were doing well. Post-war Europe was torn but quickly rebuilding, with high productivity rates and government investments in key infrastructure and labor sectors. Accompanying this positive growth was the rapid popularization of a uniquely French loaf – the baguette. By French law, a baguette, or “stick”, only uses four ingredients (yeast, flour, salt, and water), yielding a crispy yet soft product, ideal for sandwiches, or for having with soups, coffee, and midday snacks. The simplicity and low cost of baguettes threatened other European bakers, particularly those in Italy, who prided themselves on their traditional bread recipes. How could they overcome the French threat and produce a carb competitor in the market? The answer was ciabatta.

These days, chewy ciabatta is synonymous with Italy, with many assuming the crusty bread has been a part of the region’s history for a while. However, the humble loaf was first developed in the early 1980s by Arnaldo Cavallari, a baker who lived near Venice and vowed to dethrone the baguette. His dough had a much higher moisture content and slower proofing process than its Franc kin, making the product crustier, chewier, and more aerated. Ciabatta’s success was immediate. In 1985, the bread became mass-produced in the U.K. and the U.S., a new hallmark of “Italian” cuisine abroad.

The novelty and quick popularity could not have come at a better time for the Italian economy, which was experiencing market stagnation and high inflation rates for the first time in decades. Cavallari’s vision of a versatile Italian bread that showcased the country’s baking prowess and combatted the French baguette in European markets had been realized. Ciabatta helped distinguish Italian culture from its northern and western European cousins, solidifying the region’s distinct international identity and promoting interest in Italy abroad.