November 18, 2025
Politics on Your Plate: Research, Resistance, and Recipes
Turning research into recipes

What stories can a meal tell? In Politics on Your Plate, students discovered just how much history, conflict, and cultural exchange can be embedded in a single dish. Coached this fall by Ryan Ferguson (with support from Nadine Zaza, who originally taught the course in 2020 with Creative Director Nada Elsonni), the studio asked students to investigate the geopolitical relationship between two nations, and then translate their research into a three-course fusion meal. The end result combined in-depth historical research, a written essay, and a great deal of culinary experimentation.
Early in the studio, the group joined the Hidden History studio for a field trip exploring the layered past of Boston’s Chinatown. Led by the Chinese Historical Society, the walking tour delved into immigration, labor, housing, as well as the lesser-known history of the Syrian community that once lived there. The visit reinforced the studio’s central theme: food is never just food—it is shaped by people, history, and the politics of place.
The research process began with students selecting a nation from a curated list that offered a cross-section of global cultures and regions. Next, they examined a specific dish from that country. The task was deceptively simple: learn where the dish comes from, what ingredients define it, and how the nation’s political history might appear in the food. This foundational research shaped everything that followed.
To help students find meaningful pairings, the studio included a “speed-dating” activity, with students acting as ambassadors of their respective countries. As they introduced their “national identities,” unexpected overlaps emerged: shared colonizers, parallel migration stories, alliances, and historical conflicts. Once partnerships formed, groups faced the harder task of narrowing complex geopolitical relationships into a single, clear angle. Some focused on propaganda used during World War II; others examined the parallel struggles for independence and recognition in Ireland and Palestine. Students learned not just to gather information, but to analyze, interpret, and identify a lens that could anchor their story. This research ultimately informed both their written papers and the dishes they designed.
Each group created an appetizer, entrée, and dessert, with each dish representing a chapter within their narrative. The fusion wasn’t arbitrary; students were challenged to merge core ingredients, cooking techniques, or symbolic foods from each country to convey an idea, event, or historical tension. The dishes were meant to symbolize or abstract a particular moment in their story. Students constructed a narrative arc through flavors, textures, and visual presentation, turning a meal into a method of storytelling. To aid in recipe development, students consulted with Tracy Chang, the chef owner of Pagu, a Japanese Spanish fusion restaurant in Central Square.
The hands-on cooking brought its own challenges. With no full kitchen on campus, students improvised with hot plates, a small oven, and shared counter space. It became a lesson in creativity, collaboration, timing, and resourcefulness. Despite these constraints, the students concocted complex dishes, presented with the polish of a professional tasting.
FOR A TASTE OF THE STUDIO CHECK OUT THESE STUDENT PORTFOLIOS HERE and HERE
Each week concluded with a critique session that functioned almost like a cooking show with a NuVu twist. A panel of taste-testers evaluated each dish using a rubric that balanced culinary execution with conceptual clarity: Did the flavors fuse meaningfully? Did the dish reflect the research? Could students articulate the story behind what the judges were eating? As the panel tasted, students narrated their research in real time, turning each critique into a multisensory presentation.
As the studio wrapped up, students began compiling their recipes, diagrams, and written essays into a collective cookbook. Each dish is paired with a student-illustrated diagram that breaks down its components and construction. The book is still in progress, but the goal is to produce printed copies as part of a larger communal showcase in Part II of the studio.
That next chapter, Politics on Your Plate: Part II, will shift the focus from cooking to experience design. Students will create ceramic dinnerware, vessels, and utensils that extend and augment the storytelling of their research. The shapes, symbols, and cultural references embedded in the ceramic pieces will add another layer of meaning to the meals developed in Part I.
Politics on Your Plate ultimately blended hands-on making with historical inquiry, teamwork, tasting, and storytelling. Students learned how global events shape local traditions, how culture survives, adapts, or transforms, and how to communicate that history through food. It’s a studio that begins in the kitchen but stretches far beyond it.



