In Good Taste: What Shapes What We Eat and Drink—and Why It Matters by Mallika Basu, launching 22 January 2026, is an accessible guide to the food system. It explores how our food is shaped by power, inequality and environmental impact, and shows how food lovers can make positive, practical change.
What inspired you to write ‘In Good Taste’, and what key message do you hope readers will take away from it?
The idea of In Good Taste is a result of my life working in corporate communications, getting two cookbooks published and then co-founding a spice company. Along the way, I saw first-hand some of the issues affecting our plates and palates. From 2020, I began advising and educating the food, drink and hospitality sectors on culture, identity and inclusion. Of course, you can’t talk about people without considering the planet we all live on.
I noticed a real disconnect. Many of us proudly call ourselves “foodies” or “superfoodies”, yet we rarely engage with the bigger forces shaping what we eat and don’t.
So, I went on a journey to learn more about the system behind our everyday meals. What I found was complex, fascinating, sometimes uncomfortable but also full of possibility for us to play a more active role. I wrote In Good Taste to share these ideas in an accessible, engaging and non-judgemental way.
The book is about helping people enjoy food more deeply, by understanding it better. My hope is that readers will feel more connected and confident about the food they love, and understand that caring about taste, our health and wider impact should go hand in hand.
Your book touches on the evolution of our food system. Could you walk us through how the food industry has changed over the years and why that matters?
When we talk about the food system, we’re really talking about everything that happens to food: how it’s grown, processed, transported, marketed, eaten and wasted. In many ways, it’s been hugely successful. It feeds billions of people and offers extraordinary convenience. In our busy lives, we can eat avocados from Mexico, asparagus from Peru and pineapples from Costa Rica all year round without giving it much thought.
But this system didn’t evolve by accident. Over time, food has become increasingly global, industrialised and primarily profit-driven. Large corporations now control much of the supply chain, and food is treated as a commodity rather than a basic human need. Speed, volume and efficiency are prioritised, often through mechanisation and large-scale farming.
This shift has deep roots. Centuries of colonisation disrupted and devalued local food cultures and farming knowledge, many of which were diverse, seasonal and sustainable. More recently, the push for cheap, convenient and highly processed food has had an impact on our health and the environment. We’re converging on the same “Western” diet, which leaves many people both overfed and undernourished.
Understanding how we got here matters, because we have a role to play in positive changes for the better.
In your exploration of food systems, you discuss the people who are often left behind. Who are these individuals, and why are their stories important in the larger conversation about food?
One of the great contradictions of our food system is that the people who feed us are often the ones struggling the most. Small farmers and agricultural workers experience some of the highest levels of poverty anywhere in the food chain. Smallholders produce a large share of the world’s food, yet many are less food secure than the urban poor.
Women are central to this story. They make up around 60–80% of agricultural labour globally, but still have limited access to land, finance, markets and power. Indigenous and local communities are also frequently sidelined, even though their knowledge underpins many resilient food practices we now celebrate.
Global trade plays a role too. Farmers affected by erratic weather often feel pressured to grow high-yield crops like wheat, rice and maize for export, instead of diverse, nutritious foods better suited to local climates. Farmed salmon, in fact, relies on small fish taken from waters where coastal African communities depend on them for protein.
In countries like the UK and US, farmers face weather and economic pressure, while millions of people struggle to afford healthy food. These stories matter because a food system that fails those closest to food and land ultimately fails us all.
What do you see as the most pressing issue within the food system today? How can food lovers play a role in addressing it?
For me, the most pressing issue is how unfair and unequal the food system has become and how closely that’s linked to environmental damage. The system works extremely well for some people, but many others pay the price.
Often, those most affected are in the global South, including countries with histories of colonisation, where land, labour and food cultures continue to be shaped by Western ideas and corporate interests. You can see this in what gets grown, what’s considered “trendy” and who benefits financially.
At the same time, the environmental impact of what we eat and drink is impossible to ignore. Food production accounts for around a quarter to a third of global greenhouse gas emissions. Natural systems that once absorbed and recycled these gases have been disrupted by deforestation, industrial farming, fossil fuels and our heavy reliance on meat, particularly beef. Importantly, experts now increasingly recognise that health, climate and justice are inseparable.
Food lovers who care about flavour, culture and pleasure already have influence. We are tastemakers. What we cook, order, share and celebrate shapes demand. By being curious, informed and open to change, we can help normalise food that’s better for people and planet, with pleasure and joy.
With so much focus on food trends, from influencers to popular cooking shows, how do you think our increasing obsession with food affects the deeper issues surrounding food production and sustainability?
There’s a real irony here. At a time when we’re more obsessed with food than ever scrolling, streaming and watching cooking as entertainment, we’re often more disconnected from where food comes from. Research suggests many of us binge-watch cookery shows while eating takeaway, which says a lot.
Most of us now live in cities, removed from farms and agriculture, so food production can feel abstract. Add to that the way food is packaged and marketed, wrapped in single-use plastic, powered by fossil fuels, and presented as perfectly uniform, and it further distances us from how its grown and its value.
This matters because without understanding context, our relationship with food becomes shallow. We consume ingredients and products we know very little about, often highly processed and chemically complex. At the same time, our diets have narrowed dramatically: around three quarters of the world’s food now comes from just 12 plants and five animal species. Many fruits and vegetables are less nutritious than they were decades ago.
The good news is that obsession with food can be recalibrated towards curiosity, diversity and care for how food is produced. It can become a powerful force for protecting flavour, culture and pleasure for the future.
You’ve highlighted the pressures on the planet due to the current food system. What are some of the most significant environmental impacts, and how can we as consumers make a difference?
One of the clearest pressures comes from the way land is used to meet our appetites today. Forests and natural habitats are routinely cleared to grow popular, globally traded crops, whether that is avocados, soy or crops grown to feed livestock. This does not just destroy nature and wildlife; it also disrupts water systems. Avocados, almonds and chocolate are all examples of water-intensive crops often grown in water-scarce regions.
Bees and birds are also in decline due to pesticides, monoculture farming and habitat loss, directly threatening the fruits, vegetables, nuts and spices we love. Climate change means unpredictable weather, and droughts and floods are already affecting harvests and pushing up prices. Many popular ingredients such as baby sweetcorn, tomatoes and lettuce, are grown in climate-vulnerable areas and transported long distances to the UK.
The good news is that we can make a difference. Eating more seasonally, wasting less food and embracing diversity, meaning more plants, more pulses and more variety, all help. Supporting better farming practices and higher welfare standards helps over time. Small changes add up. I end the book with a practical chapter that sets out simple ways to make a difference, depending on our values, budgets and lifestyles.
How do you think food movements like “local food,” “plant-based eating,” and “food justice” intersect with the ideas you explore in the book?
I see these movements as connected pieces of the same puzzle. In my book, I step back and look at the bigger picture. There are trade-offs everywhere, and we have to be honest about how much impact food lovers can have. Not everyone has access to farmers’ markets or the time to cook everything from scratch.
Eating locally can strengthen communities and reduce some environmental impacts, but it also needs to be inclusive and realistic. Our plates and palates would be far less exciting without global tastes and ingredients, and access to cultural food is a basic human need.
Eating more plants is important for health and the environment, but it should not erase food cultures or farmers or place the burden of change on individuals alone. Much of the conversation about meat fails to distinguish between intensively farmed animals and well-reared livestock.
Food justice is the thread that ties it all together. Who grows our food, who profits from it, and who can afford to eat well matters just as much as what is on the plate. Many traditional diets across the global South already reflect these principles. South Asian food cultures remain seasonal, plant-forward, low-waste and nose to tail. Indigenous and global majority voices need to be centred in conversations about our food future.
Lastly, as someone who loves food and believes in its transformative power, how do you approach food in your own life? How does your personal philosophy align with the ideas shared in ‘In Good Taste’?
Becoming a more engaged food writer and home cook has been a gradual and very real journey for me. I work in the food world, but I face the same pressures as many parents and businesswomen, which shapes what I can realistically do in the kitchen and at the table.
I also believe strongly in the power of business to do good. Positive impact can be delivered commercially when incentives and values are aligned.
What I have learned, and what I share both in my Substack and in my book, is that change does not have to be dramatic or perfect. It starts with making sense of what we eat and why, and then making small, thoughtful adjustments. It means returning to what our grandparents did, as well as embracing innovation and new technology.
For example, I have an organic veg box delivered, which takes the thinking out of eating locally and seasonally. I choose less desirable cuts of meat to make higher welfare options more affordable, treating steak as a luxury. Alongside eating vegetables and whole grains, my teens and I have also enjoyed plant-based protein kebabs with clean labels and great taste.
Food should bring pleasure, connection and nourishment, while gently nudging us towards better choices for people and planet. I hope In Good Taste helps readers embrace this balance.
