Omnivore’s Dilemma: Why We Keep Chasing Food Trends (And Why We're Finally Tired of It)

Let's be honest. There's a very specific kind of fatigue that hits you somewhere between your third "immune-boosting açai bowl" and your seventh high-protein yogurt with an ingredient list longer than your grocery receipt.

It's that moment when you look at yet another package screaming "SUPERFOOD!" in neon letters and think:

Really? Again? This is the miracle ingredient I was missing all along?

Because apparently, everything our ancestors ate for thousands of years was just... amateur hour. They survived, thrived, built civilizations, and raised families on regular old food. But sure, what they really needed was goji berries shipped from halfway across the world in a resealable pouch.

If you've felt that simmer of skepticism bubbling up, congratulations. You might be waking up from what the food industry desperately hopes is a lifelong nutritional trance.

And honestly? It's about time.

The Omnivore's Dilemma (In Real People Words)

Here's the thing about being human: we can eat almost anything. That's both our evolutionary superpower and our curse.

Back in the 1970s, psychologist Paul Rozin gave this predicament a name: "the omnivore's dilemma." Later, journalist and food writer Michael Pollan expanded on this idea beautifully in his groundbreaking book The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals. The concept is elegantly simple, and once you see it, you can't unsee it.

When you're a species that can technically eat everything from kelp to kidney beans to kangaroo, you need some kind of guidance system for figuring out what you should actually eat.

For most of human history, those answers came from three reliable sources:

culture, family, and seasons.

Your grandmother knew what to cook in winter because her grandmother taught her. Your community had food traditions developed over centuries of trial, error, and survival. The seasons told you what was available. You didn't need a PhD in nutrition. The wisdom was baked into the routine.

Today? The answers come from whoever bought the most ad space.

The Industry Wasn't Built to Keep You Healthy

Here's where things get uncomfortable.

While reading food journalist and historian research on how the modern food industry actually evolved (Pollan's work, along with others like Marion Nestle and her book Food Politics, lays this out with stunning clarity), one thing becomes painfully, undeniably clear:

The system we live in was never designed to keep us healthy.

It was designed to keep surplus crops profitable and supermarket shelves moving.

Any health benefit you get is a pleasant coincidence, not the mission statement.

The industry emerged in response to agricultural policy, government subsidies, and the need to process massive quantities of corn, soy, and wheat into products with long shelf lives. Health was an afterthought. Profit was the point.

And suddenly, the annual "superfood of the year" makes a lot more sense.

The Surplus Problem You Never Hear About

Here's the part no one says out loud, but once you see it, you'll spot it everywhere:

Foods become "superfoods" not because they suddenly transformed into nutritional superheroes overnight, but because someone invested heavily in producing massive quantities of them and now needs an elegant way to move all that inventory.

Too many soybeans? Suddenly soy is a protein revolution.

Too much corn? High-fructose corn syrup in everything, plus corn-based "healthy" snacks.

A literal continent overflowing with chickpeas? Hello, hummus in twelve flavours and chickpea pasta.

Global investors placing enormous bets on quinoa production? Quinoa becomes the grain that will save your life (and definitely not the hedge fund's quarterly earnings).

And then the marketing whisper begins, soft and insistent:

This is the food your body has been begging for.

You didn't even know your cells were spiritually incomplete without it.

Your ancestors may have done fine without it, but you —modern, stressed, nutrient-depleted you— you need this!

Surplus becomes salvation.

Oversupply becomes "optimal wellness."

Marketing becomes mythology.

It's all very poetic, in a slightly tragic, we-should-get-a-closer-look kind of way.

The Health Halo Trick (That Works Every Single Time)

The absolute fastest way to sell something people never asked for is to wrap it in a glowing, celestial halo of nutrition claims.

Here's the thing: the modern eater has lost most of their cultural food instincts. We're disconnected from seasons, from traditional preparation methods, from the collective wisdom that once guided every meal. And in that vacuum of uncertainty, the food industry steps in as a very confident, very enthusiastic, very well-funded tour guide.

Just watch the cycle play out:

1. A crop is overproduced (oops, too much investment)

2. Warehouses fill up (oops, we need to sell this)

3. Investors start panicking (oops, our quarterly projections)

4. Marketing teams hold an urgent meeting

5. Suddenly you're being told that your happiness, hormones, hair, immune system, gut health, skin glow, and possibly the fate of humanity itself depend on adding one specific bean to your morning smoothie

The language is always the same, like they're all reading from the same playbook:

• Ancient

• Healing

• Restorative

• Doctor-recommended

• Science-backed

• Life-changing

• Nature's miracle

Meanwhile, most traditional food cultures around the world handled all of this—nutrition, satisfaction, health, longevity—without a single Instagram infographic or TED Talk.

Funny how that works.

Before Superfoods, We Simply Had Food

Your grandmother didn't need antioxidant comparison charts to survive winter.

She didn't measure her fiber intake or track her omega-3 to omega-6 ratios.

She didn't need a 14-ingredient smoothie bowl photographed in perfect morning light to feel like she was nourishing herself properly.

She ate seasonally, because that's what was available.

She cooked at home, because that's what people did.

She prepared whatever nature decided was abundant that month, using methods passed down through generations (a.k.a. culture and why it is so important…but that’s for another discussion)

Food kept her alive.

Rhythm kept her calm.

Tradition kept her confident.

As Pollan brilliantly points out in The Omnivore's Dilemma and his later work In Defense of Food, traditional cuisines function like a tested, reliable guide that tells us what to do with ingredients, how to pair foods for both nutrition and pleasure, and how to nourish ourselves without performing calculus before dinner.

Traditional eating cultures didn't need to think about food constantly because the framework was already in place. You knew what to cook in spring. You knew how to prepare beans so they'd digest well. You knew which herbs balanced which flavors and which foods went together. The anxiety was removed because the wisdom was inherited.

Compare that to today, where you practically need a spreadsheet, a food scale, and a graduate degree to buy yogurt.

Balkan yogurt, Greek or Icelandic? Low-fat or full-fat? Grass-fed or acorn-fed? Probiotic count? Added fiber? Protein-fortified? Organic? Sugar-free but artificially sweetened, or naturally sweetened but higher calorie?

We're drowning in choices and starving for guidance.

The Moment the Spell Breaks

There comes a point (usually mid-scroll through a wellness influencer's feed, or standing in the supplement aisle at Whole Foods feeling vaguely inadequate) when you suddenly see the pattern.

The foods being pushed the hardest, with the biggest marketing budgets and the loudest health claims, are almost always the foods the industry most desperately needs you to buy.

The foods that kept generations of humans healthy, strong, and alive rarely need a marketing campaign. They work. They've always worked. They don't need rebranding.

Beans don't need a rebrand. Leafy greens don't need a hype cycle. Fermented vegetables don't need a celebrity spokesperson. They've been quietly keeping people nourished for millennia.

But when the industry has a surplus problem? Or simply the opportunity to sell more of something (anything)? Suddenly you'll see a flood of content about why this specific thing is actually the key to everything.

Modern eating monetizes your uncertainty.

Traditional eating eliminates it.

One system keeps you scrolling, second-guessing, researching, buying.

The other system lets you cook and live with a peace of mind that’s become indescribable to the modern omnivore (i.e. humans).

Not Lost, Just Taking It all in… and Processing

If you're exhausted by labels, trends, and the constant pressure to optimize every bite, nothing is wrong with you.

You're not failing at wellness.

Simply noticing the design of the modern food sector.

You're recognizing that the breathless cycle of food trends isn't about your health. It’s about a bottom line.

You're realizing that the anxiety you feel about food isn't a personal failing but a feature of a system that profits from your anxiety.

You're understanding that maybe, just maybe, your great-grandmother's simple meals weren't primitive or uninformed. Maybe they were wisdom.

So, What to Do When the Next Superfood Drops?

The next time a new superfood appears out of nowhere, promoted by every wellness account you follow, I want you to promise yourself one thing:

Pause long enough to ask who benefits from this trend.

Your body, or investors?

Your health, or their quarterly earnings report?

Your nutritional needs, or their need to move inventory?

That moment of clarity, that brief pause before you click "add to cart”, is where your real food instincts begin to return.

Because here's the truth they don't want you to realize: You probably already know how to eat well. The knowledge is in there somewhere, buried under years of marketing noise.

Eat food that looks like food.

Eat things your great-grandmother would recognize.

Eat seasonally when you can.

Cook at home when possible.

Trust the traditions that kept people alive for centuries.

And maybe, just maybe, skip the $18 bag of the latest miracle powder.

Your body (and your budget!) will thank you.

Want to reclaim your food instincts? Start by reading Michael Pollan's "In Defense of Food" and "The Omnivore's Dilemma," or Marion Nestle's "Food Politics" for a deep dive into how we got here. Your grandmother's cookbook works too. For more information on seasonal foods and how to turn them into nutritious meals, visit our online Store.

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