Creatures of habit: Why do some of us prefer familiar food combinations?

Buying food for my younger brother is simple clockwork. You just have to remember the flowchart of his usual orders.

Are you purchasing from the kopitiam near our house? If so, get the ‘rice with salted egg fish, two leafy vegetables, and steamed egg.’

Not at this Kopitiam, but still at a food court? His order will be the failproof ‘Teriyaki chicken and salmon bento, extra sesame seeds’ from any classic Japanese stall.

Not at a food court at all? No worries needed, as long as there is an ‘Ajisen Ramen’ nearby. He will be content if you present him with its signature ‘Chashu Ramen’, paired with ‘Crispy gyoza 4 pcs [sic]’ and lemon tea.

No food court around and no Ajisen Ramen in sight? That’s a tough spot. At this stage, your safest bet is a fried rice dish — just make sure it comes with some meat.

Following my younger brother’s food preferences is like navigating a well-rehearsed routine. Each order is carefully chosen, each backup plan meticulously in place. But this predictability raises a bigger question: Why do some of us gravitate toward familiar food combinations instead of exploring new flavors? Is it simply a matter of comfort and habit, or does it stem from a deeper reluctance to step outside our culinary comfort zones?

Indubitably, sticking to tried-and-tested food combinations functions is a safety mechanism, ensuring a reliable and enjoyable eating experience. According to a research article by Hendrik Schifferstein (2020) on the links between sensory science and culinary practices, human perception and appreciation mechanisms are closely tied to familiar sensory experiences. More specifically, familiar food combinations align with established sensory expectations, leading to a more predictable and satisfying eating experience. This certainty of gratification reinforces the preference for tried-and-tested food pairings.

Beyond mere enjoyment, however, our rigid food preferences appear to be deeply rooted in something more primal and psychological.

At its core, our preference for familiar foods arises from a fundamental human need for security and an instinctive fear of the unfamiliar. This fear functions as a survival mechanism deeply rooted in our biology. Sociologists have explored this concept through the framework of the Omnivore’s Dilemma. A term coined by Michael Pollan, it suggests that, unlike animals with specialized diets, humans must navigate a broad range of food options to fulfill their nutritional requirements.

The dynamism of choice has resulted in the emergence of an inherent tension between curiosity and caution, whereby curiosity propels individuals toward novelty and experimentation, yet caution gives rise to hesitation rooted in concerns over safety and the unknown. This fundamental tension finds a modern expression in the way some individuals instinctively shy away from fusion cuisines (such as sushi burritos or kimchi pizza), as these unfamiliar food combinations challenge their ingrained expectations of traditional food pairings, blurring the boundaries between known and unknown.

In fact, we see how this innate skepticism has persisted throughout history, reinforcing its role as a fundamental aspect of the human psyche. For instance, Chinese imperial kitchens were mandated to follow rigid meal regulations. In order to ensure that their emperors consumed only "safe" foods, each ingredient was meticulously inspected to prevent poisoning, and the same trusted dishes were often repeated. A case in point is Emperor Shizong of Qing, who was alleged to eat only specific types of congees for breakfast even though he had access to an abundance of diverse foods.

A similar rigidity in eating habits was also seen among Roman Emperors, who restricted their diets to simple, low-risk foods prepared only by trusted slaves or food tasters. Emperor Augustus reportedly favored plain meals like coarse bread, cheese, and figs, while Emperor Tiberius was known to eat only boiled eggs and fruits that were peeled in front of him, believing these items were harder to tamper with. This recurring pattern throughout history is a testament to how unshakable and deeply ingrained the human desire for food safety and predictability is.

Yet, our deep-rooted need for certainty in food choices is not solely instinctive. It is also intimately shaped by our cultural and environmental upbringing. A study published by the National Center for Biotechnology Information (NCBI) suggests that early exposure to different flavors during prenatal and early childhood stages can significantly influence lifelong food preferences. From a young age, we become accustomed to specific cuisines, ingredients, and cooking methods, which come to feel “safe” and familiar. For instance, in cultures where insects are commonly consumed as snacks or garnishes, such foods are normalized and accepted, even though they might seem grotesque to those from different cultural backgrounds.

In this vein, however, it is precisely the influence of nurture that allows us to revise our rigid food preferences and gradually overcome our hesitation toward the unfamiliar. One psychological mechanism that explains this adaptability is the mere exposure effect, first described by Zajonc (1968). This effect posits that the more frequently we are exposed to a particular stimulus, the more we tend to develop a preference for it. When applied to food, this principle suggests that repeated exposure to certain flavors, textures, or even the sight and smell of unfamiliar dishes can lead to increased acceptance and enjoyment over time. For instance, someone who initially dislikes the bitterness of dark chocolate or the pungency of fermented foods may come to appreciate them after multiple tastings, especially when these experiences are embedded in positive social or cultural contexts. Through such exposure, our learned preferences can shift, demonstrating how nurture can override initial resistance and foster a more diverse approach to eating.

In conclusion, our predictable food preferences are more than just quirky routines. They reflect a broader human tendency to seek comfort, security, and satisfaction in the familiar. Whether it is ancient emperors guarding their feasts, modern diners steering clear of fusion food, or my brother crafting a meticulous flowchart for every meal, our eating habits reveal a timeless craving for control amidst life’s unpredictability. Yet, just as these habits are shaped by biology and culture, they are also malleable. Through repeated exposure and positive associations, what was once strange can become second nature— one bite at a time.