Changing paradigm in new food branding
Evolution instead of revolution
Extension instead of substitution
Evocation instead of imitation
Evolution instead of revolution
Our diets and foods have evolved throughout human history—and there is no reason this process should suddenly stop. New foods have always found their place gradually, earning consumer acceptance over time.
Food innovation is therefore best understood as part of a continuous evolution rather than a sudden revolution.
Dietary habits rarely change overnight. They shift progressively through familiarity, trust, and repeated experience. What becomes common on the plate is usually the result of a slow process of recognition and integration rather than abrupt substitution.
Food evolution is deeply woven into culture and history. Technological progress, culinary craftsmanship, and cross-cultural exchange have continuously shaped the way people eat. Change in food has rarely occurred through rupture but through adaptation. Even when technological breakthroughs transform production, acceptance ultimately depends on lived experience at the table.
The real question, therefore, is not whether food innovation should be embraced, but how it should be practised so that it resonates with consumers, integrates naturally into culinary culture, and earns lasting adoption.
Extension instead of substitution
We do not believe that introducing new foods as replacements for existing meat, fish, or dairy products is a constructive approach. Whether something is perceived as an alternative or simply as another option ultimately lies in the eye of the beholder. The way new foods are framed, however, strongly influences that perception.
When the introduction of new foods becomes closely tied to political or societal agendas, acceptance and rejection can become coloured by those debates. Substitution narratives may unintentionally create division: those who do not choose the substitute risk being interpreted as rejecting the underlying agenda rather than simply expressing preference.
Presenting new foods as an extension of what already exists aligns more naturally with the reality of food culture. Food has always been defined by richness and variety. Every category—cheese, bread, grains, sauces, and meats—is shaped by plurality rather than uniformity. Adding something new to the assortment therefore feels intuitive rather than confrontational.
Extension broadens the texture and flavour repertoire of food instead of narrowing the choice. It invites curiosity and experimentation rather than resistance.
Consumers rarely reject extensions outright. They taste, compare, combine, and ultimately decide for themselves. Choice—not pressure—remains the most durable driver of dietary change. Lasting shifts occur when people are invited to add something new to their plate, not when they are asked to replace what they already value.
Evocation instead of imitation
Imitation, no matter how advanced, asks new food to compete on sameness. It ties innovation to comparison and positions existing products as the reference point. In that dynamic the original almost always holds the advantage: the reference defines the standard, and what defines the standard often shapes preference. The preference always wins.
Evocation allows food to call to mind familiar sensations, memories, and culinary contexts without pretending to be something else. It creates recognition without forcing direct comparison and familiarity without submission. Crucially, evocation does not seek to displace the original—it can exist alongside it, enriching the culinary repertoire rather than challenging its legitimacy.
Food cultures have always grown in this way: through association, reinterpretation, and creative expression rather than replication.
Evocation invites curiosity and openness, while imitation narrows evaluation to similarity and often triggers scepticism.
When food evokes instead of imitates, consumers are not primarily asked to compare. They are invited to experience and explore. And experience, not resemblance, is what ultimately builds trust and preference.
It is also important to recognise that a food does not need to imitate another in order to become a replacement in practice. What people ultimately substitute on their plate is determined by personal choice, context, and performance. When a product performs well within a culinary moment—through taste, texture, versatility, or satisfaction—it may naturally take the place of another ingredient without ever having been designed as an imitation. The replacement, like the comparison itself, remains largely in the eye of the beholder.