Tomatoes are out (due to salmonella, which always sounds like Sal Morello, with whom I went to school from third grade until graduation). Green onions, after a brief association with e.coli, are back in.
High-fructose corn syrup is out.
Locally-sourced foods are in. So is exploring other cultures' foods, so get that garden ready for lemongrass, galangal, and keffir lime!
Genetically modified foods are suspect, but hybrid foods (pluot, anyone?) are not.
"Foods your great-grandmother made" are in, but so are steak tartare turned into a wafer and chickpeas turned into little pyramids with a mousse center.
Low-carb is way out, vegetarian is in. PB&J on white bread is out as a kids' meal but in for grown-ups as a kitschy retro treat (probably about $9 at Agnes & Muriel's).
Folks, I can't keep up. This business of food trends requires more energy than I'm willing to expend on something that doesn't improve mileage or wag its tail. Years ago, when grapes were being touted for their terrific stores of resveratrol (an anti-oxidant; that's a good thing) and simultaneously reviled because of the poor treatment of the Chilean grape farm workers, I gave up. My efforts to save the world are completely unaffected by grapes and I'm not going to pretend otherwise.
Barbecue is in. So are barbecue contests, and I had the good fortune to go to one earlier this week and support a friend who entered some amazing jerk chicken. I do hope the so-called "White Barbecue" in the Alabamistan* style was disqualified. My sweetie talks about how runners have a real sense of community, and it was great to see the same thing happening at the contest, paricularly since they all had access to sharp knives and open flame. And alcohol, too - someone had the incredible idea to include a wine tasting at said event.
Me: What have we here?
Wine table attendant: This is a red Zinfandel.
Me: It's a sad, sad day when you have to say that Zinfandel is red. Will Bad Eighties never die?
Wine table attendant: We had a group cry about that earlier.
I hope they had a nice Barbera for consolation.
*I have nothing against Alabama; I just have a lot of West Virginia and New Jersey jokes that need to be repurposed for Georgia living.