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Food comes in many forms: it can be wok-fried, spit-roasted, kneaded into flatbread, rolled in seaweed, spiced with wattleseed, wrapped with banana leaves and sprinkled with za’atar.
Stories about food also come in many different shapes, flavours and serving sizes, too.
They’re not just limited to reviews about special-occasion restaurants or lists of whirlwind food trends. Food stories can help #spreadhummusnothate – via one uploaded bowl of chickpea dip at a time. They can be snapshots of the “in-between moments” around food – like shopping for ingredients with your migrant mother. They might be a ‘100 Days of Food Illustration’ challenge that features chwee kueh (water cakes), which are unwrapped at breakfast time in Singapore. They can be a connection to your enslaved ancestors and a way to explain how they shaped American soul food from scraps, hardship and resilience. They might be bush foods recipes that celebrate native ingredients like ooray plums (“the best plum of all time”), the medicinal power of Kakadu plum (“nature’s flu jab”) and the cultural significance of urti and its role in a legendary pie.
The diverse storytellers I’ve described – and their vivid, inspired ways of sharing narratives about food – are people I’ve showcased on the Diversity In Food Media Instagram account I run: they’re Lina Jebeile from The Lebanese Plate, cookbook author and Peddler Journal editor Hetty McKinnon, illustrator Yeli Chuan, writer and Southern Soul co-owner Tyree Barnette and Warndu Mai co-authors Damien Coulthard and Rebecca Sullivan. They hint at the many flavours, cultural histories and food-driven possibilities that Australia represents.
The original recipe for this legendary urti pie is by Damien Coulthard's Nana Barb. Source: Warndu Mai (Good Food)
Who are the missing voices from this conversation?
We hope to find them through our Journey through food competition on SBS Food.
This trip began with my colleague Candice Chung, who is also part of the Diversity In Food Media collective I’m in. When she got married, she gave up her shot to have a wedding registry and instead reached out to people to donate to a crowdfunding campaign aimed at supporting emerging talent. The plan was to offer food writing, illustrating and podcasting opportunities to people from First Nations, LGBTQI+, culturally and linguistically diverse and other under-represented backgrounds – we wanted to welcome new voices into the world of food media. That idea is now a reality and we want to encourage people to take part.
So why does having diverse coverage on food matter?
On a basic flavour-enhancing level, I (selfishly) think our plates and vocabularies are infinitely richer, more vibrant and better seasoned when we add more cuisines, cultural context and perspectives to our worlds – my palate has happily benefited from serves of koshari, kottu roti, tetelas, furikake, native dukkah and other region-spanning dishes and condiments.
I also think it’s a way we can connect to each other on vital issues, like when Wiradjuri woman Fiona Harrison uses her native-flavoured chocolate as a conversation starter about closing the gap on Indigenous health. 
Chloe Sargeant memorably reframed the way I looked at food and chronic illness when she wrote about how cooking helped her cope with her condition in the New Voices On Food book I edited in 2020.
Fiona Harrison also uses her chocolate to bring up the topic of reconciliation. Source: Lee Tran Lam
Having more diverse voices also matters because the lack of them can feel so confining. The only eatery from mainland China on The World’s 50 Best Restaurants list, for instance, is a $US900 tasting menu venue run by a French guy – a fact that hasn’t changed for half a decade, as Eater points out.
On a basic flavour-enhancing level, I (selfishly) think our plates and vocabularies are infinitely richer, more vibrant and better seasoned when we add more cuisines, cultural context and perspectives to our worlds.
“There were more pasta restaurants reviewed in the UK this year than Indian, Pakistani, Bangladeshi, Chinese, Korean, Thai, Japanese, east African, West African, and Caribbean restaurants put together,” Jonathan Nunn wrote in Vittles in August 2020.
Over-representation of Italian restaurants in food criticism has been a thing in Australia, too, with Diversity In Food Media’s Colin Ho and Nicholas Jordan pointing out in 2018 that all Asian cuisines listed in the major restaurant food guides combined “barely outnumber” the listings of Italian eateries.
When one cuisine wins awards and rave reviews, and others miss the media glow, it can affect the culinary landscape in many ways. Will a koshari restaurant open in your neighbourhood if no one knows what this Egyptian dish is? Can your local dumpling restaurant survive if people under-appreciate the technical mastery of making 18-pleat xiao long bao (and refuse the price tag it really deserves)?
Koshari is Egypt's national dish and worth adding to your cooking repertoire (or takeaway list). Source: Audrey Bourget
Sometimes certain voices dominate the food conversation – and turn down the volume on others. "Vegetarians are the enemy of everything good and decent in the human spirit, an affront to all I stand for, the pure enjoyment of food,” Anthony Bourdain once said. I wondered how the author was so quick to dismiss my Buddhist vegetarian grandmother, or my memories of eating fried eggs with her, spiced with white pepper and wonderfully crunchy with pan-crisp bitter melon crescents. I’m glad there are so many new voices now refuting this blokey, meathead view by joyfully presenting their vegan take on the souvlaki, sushi, musakhan and crème brûlée they grew up with.
Telling your personal narrative is a powerful way to change how a diet or cuisine is represented.
That’s why I’m inspired by the many people sharing food stories in their own DIY way, like Kooking With a Koori’s TikTok account, which features Nathan Lyons’ budget-friendly spin on Indigenous soul food or Sonia Nair’s Whatever Floats Your Bloat coverage, which takes a good-humoured look at her food intolerances while also exploring deep culinary history in her Instagram captions (did you know that lasagne has roots in ancient Greece and the oldest reference to the dish comes from a 12th-century poem)? Moira Tirtha’s Veraison magazine, which raises a glass to more inclusive wine coverage and tells you which bottles to BYO to a hot pot restaurant, is one exciting example of local indie food media we’re seen develop in recent years. Another is Counter magazine, where Cleo Braithwaite vividly recounts the tale of the Italian woman who stuffed 90 olives during her brain surgery. All these examples explore identity, history, culture, health, money, access and personal circumstances in such striking ways.
Adam Papastathopoulos' Greek upbringing inspired his vegan souvlaki business. Source: Supplied
They’re also noteworthy journeys through food, too – and we’d love to experience yours. Whether they’re written, illustrated or created with sounds, they’re unique maps we want to follow.
Share your story with SBS Food
SBS and Diversity in Food Media Competition
