Red & Green: BU Class Inhabits Cultural and Culinary Tourism in New Mexico by José J. López Ganem

This course begins with a simple but layered question: why leisurely travel for food?

In a post-Bourdain world, what once felt like the “parts unknown” no longer exists in quite the same way. The places that Anthony Bourdain helped bring into view—once distant, unfamiliar, or outside the scope of mainstream travel—are now widely accessible, whether through long-distance travel or the screen of a smartphone. This expanded visibility invites social scientists to ask not only how and by whom the global food tourism industry is sustained, but also what it produces: its human and environmental impacts, its promises and contradictions, its legacies and claims of innovation. It also prompts reflection on the motivations that lead us to line up outside Cédric Grolet’s pâtisserie in Paris or spend generously on Māori honey from Aotearoa (New Zealand).

The origins of culinary tourism, however, are less straightforward than today’s digital enthusiasm might suggest. Folklorist Lucy Long framed it as a response to the opacity of modern food systems—or, at times, as a way of extracting culinary knowledge—traveling for food has not always followed the now-familiar cycle of travel, purchase, photograph, and post. Still, as a pioneering scholar in the field, Long argues the enduring promise of culinary tourism lies in its potential for engagement on equal flooring, where encounters through food can challenge and even dissolve perceived and artificial boundaries of otherness.

A Practicum in New Mexico 

From March 12–15, 2026 students in Boston University’s Culinary and Cultural Tourism course traveled through Albuquerque, Jemez Pueblo, and Santa Fe—all in the State of New Mexico—as part of a practicum designed to test classroom theories in real-world settings.

New Mexico occupies a unique position within the United States: a state deeply shaped by history, cultural diversity, and a long-standing relationship with tourism; or perhaps too dependent on it. It is a place where landscapes, traditions, and foodways have been framed for visitors for over a century—from Route 66 to the hospitality systems developed by the Fred Harvey Company. At the same time, it is a place marked by ongoing challenges, including environmental pressures and persistent inequalities that disproportionately affect Native American communities.

This duality is central to understanding New Mexico as a site of study. It is both a destination carefully constructed for visitors and a lived environment where culture, identity, and food continue to be negotiated, experienced, and contested.The practicum brought students into direct contact with the people and institutions that shape the tourism ecosystem today.

In Albuquerque, a visit to the city’s tourism office—Visit Albuquerque (VisitABQ), a destination marketing organization (DMO)—highlighted how food is strategically used to position and promote a destination. Through its master tourism plan, the city leverages key milestones such as the 100th anniversary of Route 66 in 2026 and the 400th anniversary of winemaking in New Mexico—making it the oldest wine-producing region in the United States. These initiatives demonstrate how history, food, and narrative are mobilized to create a cohesive and marketable identity.

At Los Poblanos Historic Inn and Organic Farm, we encountered a different dimension of tourism—one shaped by private enterprise. The property offers a carefully curated, almost cinematic environment that illustrates how businesses can harness storytelling to highlight, preserve, and perfectly exemplify the construct of a sense of place. A particular highlight of our time was our engagement with Kate Gardner (Culture and Community Event Director), Christopher Bethoney (Executive Chef) and Judy Hartine (Farm Manager), whose work inspired our group of individual – yet might – solutions that invest in culture with intention and care, making it a great place for professional development. What emerged was not only a beautiful place to visit or a rewarding place to work, but a compelling case for culture as a central pillar of sustainability. In particular, Gardner’s work made clear that any human endeavor that aspires to be sustainable must also be cultural: attentive to meaning, identity, and the communities it seeks to serve.

“I saw that they were bringing together many aspects of cultural tourism—building both an experience and a destination, creating a sense of place through farming and land, and connecting food to that landscape in a way that felt authentic and grounded.”
— Adeline Wong

At Jemez Pueblo, the encounter unfolded first through food—grounded, generous, and deeply rooted in a new interpretation of guests beyond textbook tourism. Students were welcomed with Jemez-style enchiladas, a millennia-old staple sustained by Bertha Gachupin, a town elder and celebrated cook. Alongside them came horno-baked bread a la minute, prepared in a historic outdoor oven; freshly rolled tortillas shaped by hand; and biscochitos made with locally picked piñones, a sacred staple and flavor carrying the visible landscape itself. Each dish was more than a meal—it was a  solidification of the social experience that made our group permanent, indelible.

And yet, what defined the experience was not only what was served, but how it was offered. This was not an encounter framed around culinary tourism, nor even a class exercise. Students were welcomed as pilgrims and, in many ways, as extended family—received with a level of openness that cannot be replicated through payment or programmed experience. It was an invitation into a relationship, however brief, that carried the weight of reciprocity and presence. 

The visit also carried a ceremonial dimension, guided by Joseph “Brophy” Toledo, whose presence framed the day through both place and history. Along the Jemez River and in the vicinity of the Valles Caldera, students were introduced to the layered and often contested relationships between the National Park Service (NSA) and Pueblo communities. These are not abstract tensions, but lived realities in a landscape that holds profound cultural, spiritual, and environmental significance. Here, conservation is not only a federal mandate, but also a matter of sovereignty, memory, and belonging.

For many, this was one of the most striking aspects of the practicum. It revealed the limits of conventional tourism models—those built on access, efficiency, and growth—and pointed instead toward a more complex framework: one that must account for multiple stakeholders, competing histories, and uneven power dynamics. The experience challenged students to consider what it means to build a visitor economy not solely for profit, but in ways that recognize cultural integrity, environmental stewardship, and the rights of those whose relationship to the land predates tourism itself.

“We experienced many of the critical frameworks from our course, but also witnessed the sharing of culture and local practices in a way that felt like a true encounter with cultural tourism. The environmental impact was especially clear during our time at Jemez Pueblo.”
— Sarita Bhagwat

At La Fonda on the Plaza, the practicum took on a different rhythm—one that felt less like visiting a site and more like inhabiting it. Welcomed by hotel historian Ed Pulsifer, students were guided through a property where hospitality, architecture, and storytelling converge. To stay at La Fonda was, quite literally, to sleep in history: a space layered with visual artifacts, curated interiors, and culinary traditions that extend back to the era of the Fred Harvey Company. The experience became deeply sensorial—an immersion in color, texture, taste, and narrative—that allowed students to understand food not only as something consumed, but as something staged, remembered, and circulated.

In this setting, concepts from across the Food Studies curriculum became tangible. Questions from the anthropology of food surfaced naturally: who stays here, who dines, who shops, and why does a place like this continue to attract particular audiences? At the same time, the hotel’s visual and material culture—murals, design elements, and archival references—offered insight into how Southwestern identity has been constructed and presented. Through the lens of Fred Harvey, and with tools from the study of food history, students encountered a figure whose legacy remains complex: an architect of a hospitality economy that created opportunity and infrastructure, while also contributing to the selective representation—and, at times, tokenization—of Native American cultures. At La Fonda, these tensions were not abstract; they were lived, observed, and, for a moment, inhabited.

At the Santa Fe School of Cooking, the practicum shifted once again—from observation to participation. The class centered on core New Mexican dishes—green chile chicken tamales, cheese enchiladas with red chile sauce, corn tortillas, and chile rellenos—each recipe revealing layers of technique, history, and regional identity. Cooking became both a method of learning and a form of translation, where local foodways were rendered legible—and reproducible—for those encountering them for the first time. At the same time, the experience prompted reflection: if these recipes can be taught, replicated, and carried elsewhere, what remains tied to place? The class made clear that culinary tourism does not simply bring visitors closer to food systems—it also participates in their circulation.

“I loved the cooking class and learning about New Mexican dishes. Being actively engaged and interacting with classmates and the instructor helped me better understand the state and its Indigenous communities.”
— Melissa Teng-Towle

Reflection 

By the end of the practicum, students were left with questions that extend well beyond New Mexico – but also with tools and examples from there that can help us navigate this as professionals and practicing scholars. 

• How is authenticity constructed in tourism settings? Can it actually be constructed and represented? 
• Does authenticity also carry the burden of quality too? Is something more authentic by default more expensive? 
• What do you do when a person or community does not want to be visited? 
• What are the pending wounds and reparations that need to be taken into account when building culinary or cultural proposals within contexts of conquest, extraction, and tokenization? Is economic development from the perspective 
• What roles do history and infrastructure play in shaping visitor experiences?
• How do communities balance tourism’s economic benefits with cultural integrity?
• What does it mean to “experience” a place through its food?
• Beyond the questions brought by critical studies, what happens to the more material lacks or challenges experienced throughout: lack of water, abundance of fire disasters, unprecedented migration from other (high-tax states), record heat? 

These reflections align closely with the course’s broader goals: to understand culinary tourism not only as an industry, but as a cultural and social practice shaped by the balance of power, the study  and revision of history, and the need for the articulation of community—not the dominance of one narrative —as the recipe for success. 

New Mexico is, indeed, a land of enchantment and of learning. It is a place worth visiting, as long as one does so with awareness and respect for those who call it home. Within the boundaries of the United States, it remains a region shaped by peoples whose histories and relationships to the land long precede the nation itself, and through that knowledge can also protect it, one can say deliciously with some kick of either red or green.

Author Bio
José J. López Ganem is a Lecturer and Outreach Coordinator in the Food Studies Programs at Boston University, where he teaches courses on culinary and cultural tourism. He also serves as Executive Director of the Institute for Cacao and Chocolate Research (ICCR). His work explores the intersections of taste, cultural and intellectual property, and global commodity systems.

View all posts