- Associated Press - Thursday, July 31, 2025

More than 50% of Americans eat the same breakfast multiple times a week, according to food diary research conducted by Erasmus University and Boston University. This underscores just how tightly we cling to routine, though variety might be healthier or more practical.

There’s a quiet comfort in the way we butter toast. A certain choreography with how we stand at the stove stirring soup, even when no one’s home to share it. Across cultures, kitchens and generations, food rituals are etched into our lives in ways both ordinary and sacred. Not all of these routines are necessary anymore. Yet, we can’t seem to let them go.

Call it cultural memory. Call it stubborn sentimentality. But from setting the table a certain way to insisting that Sunday must include a roast, these food rituals have endured, whether we need them or not.



When the tradition is more than just the meal

Food traditions serve a purpose far beyond nourishment. They provide structure, comfort and a sense of belonging. In many households, the repetition of chopping vegetables correctly or brewing coffee to a specific froth is a daily act of anchoring, linking the present to the past.

Cultural practices, especially in diasporic communities, often act as a bridge to lost or distant homelands. The practice of making tamales from scratch, fermenting dosa batter over the weekend or brewing tea with cardamom and ginger isn’t always the most efficient approach, but it’s often the most meaningful. These acts can become a way of recreating home, preserving identity and honoring ancestors.

We know better, but we still do it

While the necessity behind some food rituals has faded, the habits themselves haven’t. It’s now easier than ever to assemble dinner with minimal effort. Meal kits, pre-chopped vegetables and grocery delivery have changed the way people approach cooking. And yet, many still choose time-consuming methods, such as kneading dough by hand, slow-roasting vegetables or spending entire weekends prepping lasagna to freeze.

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The persistence of these routines is often about emotion, not logic. During times of uncertainty, such as the pandemic, habits around food often intensified. Sourdough starters were fed like pets. Banana bread was baked in record numbers. These routines offered stability, a sense of control and a way to mark time.

The science and sentiment behind it

There’s actual science to support why we cling to habits. Research from Harvard and the University of Minnesota shows that performing rituals before meals can enhance the enjoyment of food, even when the food itself remains unchanged. In essence, the act of preparing or presenting food in a specific way can elevate the entire experience.

It explains why your mother’s holiday sweet potato casserole tastes different, even if the ingredients are the same. Why that first cup of coffee, made just the way you like it, feels like a small triumph. It’s the act of routine, predictable, controlled and repeatable, that soothes us in times of uncertainty.

During the pandemic, people turned to sourdough not just for the bread, but for the love of nurturing something, day after day, when so much else felt out of control. The starter was a metaphor for survival.

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Habits that don’t always serve us

Not all food habits are harmless or universally beneficial. Some are rooted in outdated norms, such as gender expectations around who should cook and how. Others are resource intensive, requiring time, money or energy that not everyone can spare.

The pressure to recreate elaborate family recipes, especially during holidays, can create more anxiety than joy. Some traditions call for ingredients that are hard to find, or involve methods that are impractical in small kitchens, shared apartments or fast-paced households. In these cases, they can feel like burdens rather than blessings. Rituals, like recipes, need to evolve.

Reinventing the ritual

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Younger generations are reimagining food rituals to better suit their lives. Instead of abandoning tradition entirely, many are blending the old with the new, using shortcuts, digital recipes or global influences to create something personal and contemporary.

This evolution is visible in the popularity of fusion dishes, online recipe swaps and food content on platforms like TikTok. A once-traditional curry simmered for hours over a hot stove might turn into a slow cooker tikka masala instead. A Sunday roast might be reinterpreted as a tray of roasted vegetables with global seasonings.

The intent remains intact: connection, expression and comfort. What changes is the form they take.

The quiet power of repetition

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Even small practices carry meaning. Stirring a pot of soup, setting the table a certain way or brewing tea in a particular mug can serve as daily anchors. They offer a pause in the rush of modern life, a cue to slow down and pay attention.

For families, shared experiences around food can strengthen relationships. Weekly pizza nights, pancake Sundays or potluck dinners can become touchstones, especially when so much else feels in flux. In an era of remote work, fragmented schedules and rising loneliness, some habits offer a reliable sense of rhythm.

They also provide space for celebration and grief. In many cultures, food plays a central role in marking life transitions, such as births, weddings and funerals. The dishes served, and how they’re prepared, often carry deep symbolic weight.

Evolving with intention

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Food rituals are not static. They evolve with time, technology and context. What matters most is intention: why they exist, what purpose it serves and who it includes.

Some may fade as lifestyles shift. Others may be reinvented to better reflect current realities. A traditional stew may be replaced by a faster, plant-based version. A hand-ground spice blend may give way to a pre-mixed packet. However, the essence of the ritual, like care, connection and cultural continuity, remains. And sometimes, that’s reason enough to keep stirring the pot.

Shruthi Baskaran-Makanju is a food and travel writer and a global food systems expert based in Seattle. She has lived in or traveled extensively to over 60 countries, and shares stories and recipes inspired by those travels on Urban Farmie.

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