Popular Culture Review Vol. 8, No. 2, August 1997 | Page 80

76 JPo£ular_CuItur^^ than a specifically ethnic ancestry. For most Pocatellans, immigrant connections are too distant and foggy to have any real bearing. In cities like Pocatello, ethnicity doesn't even have a traditionally "symbolic" function as Herbert Cans described it.^ Cultural festivals, the occasional Old World phrase sprinkled among family conversations, the ethnic dish added to a holiday meal are rather rare.^ Nevertheless, because the more concrete aspects of ethnicity (language, neighborhood, dress) are largely absent, the abstract (and very powerful) associations of ethnicity remain and have been capitalized on by the supermarket chains in Pocatello-as they have throughout the United States. Four years ago the trade journal Food Technology anticipated the emergence of a wider array of ethnic food in the supermarkets, an expansion beyond the familiar frozen burrito and jarred spaghetti sauce. The journal asserted in its breezy, market-oriented way that "Indian foods may be best poised to make the leap....Hispanics are being targeted by some of the industry giants already....Greek foods are starting to get big play" (Sloan74). A casual inspection of the food aisles at Pocatello supermarkets will attest to this cosmopolitan flourishing of ethnic food. At the same time most shopping carts reveal that the American diet still leans heavily on red meat and starches and such familiar staples as frozen french fries, corn dogs and frozen mixed vegetables. Nevertheless, given the vast array of ethnic foods one finds in the supermarkets of Pocatello, ethnicity must have something to add to the eating experiences of local residents, but what can explain the appeal? One explanation is that supermarket ethnicity offers an extravaganza of cross-cultural harmony. Prego, Manischewitz and Kikkoman stand by side. Moreover, ethnic foods are attractive because they imply what we like to think is best about America -• the possibilities for people of diverse backgrounds to share adjacent space and realize their fullest potential. The combined effect of the ethnic food aisle creates the wondrous aura of American diversity —a low-key version of the ethnic vibrancy one might find at, say, Quincy Market in Boston, the Inner Harbor in Baltimore or at any summer food festival in a town with a significant ethnic population. Eating ethnic food is pleasurable because it confirms our democratic outlook —gastronomic openness is a sign of social tolerance.^