The World Cup is Laundering America’s Image
Food is doing all the diplomacy work.
I am as excited about the World Cup as I am about putting a fitted sheet on the mattress after a night out. I have zero skin in the game — literally — because in its 55 years of existence, Bangladesh has never qualified for the tournament. But like all other citizens of the United States of Algorithms, I’m enamored with the tourists on social media gleefully gorging themselves on America’s gastronomic delights.
A few days ago, I scrolled my way to a British dude ravaging some crawfish étouffée, rice and beans, and an alligator po' boy while in Louisiana. I watched an Australian guy rhapsodize about Popeyes' fried chicken (okay, fair), and another “more posh” place called Golden Corral for its very American-coded free-flowing buffet. Chances are, you too have seen the viral video of the wide-eyed Japanese tourist gnawing on a Texan beef rib nearly the size of his torso.
