I've always been fascinated by the world of Shakespeare, particularly how he reflected his era's social and political dynamics. He used meals to represent ethics, labour, human needs, and desires, and his selection of food and drink spoke about power, politics, and social class.

While much has been written about Shakespeare's literary devices and historical context, the food symbolism in his plays is more powerful than just elements served on a table. Food and beverages offer a unique lens through which we can see power relations, class structures, and political tensions in Elizabethan England.

The theater of dining

In Shakespeare's works, eating is fundamentally rooted in the theatre. Food and drink appear more frequently in his plays than in his poems, as eating can be seen as a performance played out around the dining table.

As a social practice, eating can create, shape, and destroy communities. This is shown in the banquet scenes of Macbeth (1605) and The Tempest (1611), where food serves as a symbol that is amplified and then destroyed.

Despite thousands of references to food and cooking in his works, Shakespeare included only one kitchen scene: Act 2, Scene 3 of Twelfth Night.

This suggests that his interest lay more in food's symbolic and social significance than its preparation. I think that it may also indicate that the labour behind a meal was an activity not recognized by higher social classes, as shown in Coriolanus (1608). Here, the character Menenius sees food as passively received by the government, neglecting the labour of producers and distributors behind the high-class plates.

Small beer and social status

Food and drink in Shakespeare always occur within a social context. The line between eating and drinking wasn't as distinct in the 16th century as it is today, because food has always helped us define ourselves and our relationships—which are also subject to change in different contexts.

The representation of alcohol in Henry IV Part II, Act II Scene 2, reveals complex dynamics of class, nationality, and gender. When Prince Henry declares, “Belike then my appetite was not-princely got; for, by troth, I do now remember the poor creature, small beer”, his desire for small beer, the cheapest and weakest variety, triggers a crisis of identity.

His seemingly simple beverage choice raises deep questions about his social status and national identity because at that time England was transitioning from ale to beer production. And, this shift had significant implications.

First, traditionally ale-making was a domestic duty performed by women. The home-brewed product perished quickly and, therefore, was brewed in small quantities and could barely be transported.

Beer, introduced by the Dutch, gained popularity during Shakespeare's time. The addition of hops to the brewed ale extended its shelf life and improved its flavour. This locally produced beer not only challenged national identity while boosting the economy but also shifted production from women to men, masculinizing the industry.

Additionally, beer products started to be associated with different social classes. The strongest brew was for the elite, while small beer was for the lower strata of society. This social context gives an argument to the prince's desire for small beer, leading him to question his worth and the purity of his national identity.

As French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu would later argue, "Taste emerges from one's training and habits in the world. Cultural needs are the product of upbringing and education: all cultural practices are closely linked to educational level, and secondarily to social origin."

Prince Harry's desire for an originally foreign product that also represented a socially low class made the character develop a crisis of self and identity – What kind of man should a king be? What kind of man does his drink choice make him?

Wine, trade, and national identity

In a similar vein is Sir John Falstaff, Shakespeare's famous sack-drinker. He appears in Henry IV Part I, Part II (1597), and The Merry Wives of Windsor (1600).

This character speaks volumes about English society through his love for Spanish wine, or "sack". The timing of his appearances is particularly significant, as these three plays were written during the Anglo-Spanish War (1585-1604) when the wine trade with Spain was officially prohibited.

During this period of war and commercial expansion, England's role as a trading port gave deeper meaning to Falstaff's drinking habits. Sacks generated anxiety about foreign influence in England. Additionally, with wine being Spain's primary export to England, prohibited trade and high demand, caused smuggling routes to emerge.

As Professor Ania Loomba says “The formation of English nationhood is intricately interwoven with that of overseas trade and empire.” For Elizabethan England, seafaring and global trade were local and everyday matters as the British Empire began to expand.

For Shakespeare, alcohol was a problematic commodity, and research shows that liquors in Shakespeare's plays had a contradictory role. They could enhance physical health yet create disease, just as they could encourage a convivial community yet provoke antisocial behaviours.

One side of the contradiction lies in the fact that the drink had medicinal legitimacy, as evidenced by its presence in recipe books of the time. In The Merry Wives of Windsor, Act III Scene 5, Falstaff asks for a sack for medicinal use: “Let me pour in some sack to the Thames water; for my belly's as cold as if I had swallowed snowballs for pills to cool the reins.”

On the other side, Shakespeare seems to anticipate modern understanding in Henry IV Part II, Act IV Scene 3: “If I had a thousand the first humane principle I would teach them should be to forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack.” The word "addiction" meant something different in the 1600s than it does today. Back then, the term was linked to its Latin root, interpreted as dedication or devotion to an activity. This anticipation marks the recognition of the risks of excessive drinking, in early modern England.

Another contradiction emerges when Falstaff characterizes the sack as his source of warmth, wit, and valour, praising wine as an invigorator of the body where a soldier can find his courage to defend his kingdom. The irony lies in England's dependence on imports, as local wine production was almost nonexistent due to climate and the decay of monastery vineyards after the Reformation.

Shakespeare's 1590s audience might have recognized the implied critique: British military courage relied upon imported drinks, raising questions about how human desires often contradict necessities. Author Peter Kanelos mentions in the book Culinary Shakespeare, "Eating lies in the conjunction of desire and necessity," and Falstaff's character demonstrates this perfectly. His decline mirrors how drinking could become England's moral debility and intoxicate the national identity.

This anxiety about foreign influence extended beyond wine. While English historian William Camden linked warfare to bad drinking habits, he blamed the Dutch, who by 1600 had become Europe's largest spirit traders. Through Falstaff, Shakespeare portrays the fear of increased wine importation leading to political and social collapse, alongside the economic anxiety of shifting global power dynamics. Indeed, Elizabeth's high taxation on foreign goods ultimately contributed to depression, dearth, and plague in England.

“As civil as an orange” - fruit, status, and moral character

The relationship between imported goods and social identity extends beyond alcohol, as demonstrated in Much Ado About Nothing where Shakespeare uses oranges–imported from Seville, Spain–to explore themes of romance, social status, and moral corruption. Like wine, these imported fruits reflected England's evolving national and cultural identity while highlighting political, social, and economic limits.

Oranges held a complex status in Elizabethan society. As luxury items, they were cultivated by the aristocracy in "orangeries" alongside other citrus fruits, marking wealth and social status. The very act of growing a Spanish fruit on English soil symbolized the appropriation of foreign elements into English culture.

However, oranges also carried less savoury associations. Sold in theatres as refreshments–maybe the Elizabethan equivalent to our popcorn–they were often distributed by "orange-girls," a term that carried derogatory connotations for the women that sold them.

Shakespeare masterfully employs this duality in Act IV Scene 1, when Claudio tells Hero's father, Leonato: "Give not this rotten orange to your friend."

This metaphor, describing the supposedly unfaithful Hero (the female protagonist) combines commentary on reputation and moral judgment. Comparing Hero to a spoiled piece of fruit emphasizes her alleged loss of honour and virtue while reflecting the intense societal pressure on women's reputations during Shakespeare's time.

The orange metaphor gains additional complexity through Beatrice's use of the phrase "civil as an orange" to describe Claudio's bitter, jealous nature–a wordplay on "Seville orange," a fruit known for its bitter taste. This wordplay demonstrates how food references could simultaneously carry literal, social, and moral meanings.

Diet, moderation, and social order

In early modern England, people believed that eating habits could directly influence behaviour. The idea that moderation in eating could improve immoderate behaviour appears in Much Ado About Nothing through Don John's character, reflecting contemporary views about diet and morality.

Senior Lecturer in English Joan Fitzpatrick captures this perspective in her book, Food in Shakespeare: "Early modern dietaries make clear the view that food and drink are not mere necessities but also indices of one's position in relation to complex ideas about rank, nationality, and spiritual well-being; careful consumption might correct moral as well as physical shortcomings."

The English held specific beliefs about which foods were beneficial or harmful. As Fitzpatrick notes: "Vegetables and especially fruits should be treated with caution, due to the risk of overindulgence, while "animal flesh" was considered particularly nourishing for the body.”

Again Shakespeare, ahead of his time, recognized that what was good for the body wasn’t necessarily good for the mind. In Twelfth Night, Act I, Scene 3, Sir Andrew offers this self-aware observation: “Never in your life, I think; unless you see canary put me down. Methinks sometimes I have no more wit than a Christian or an ordinary man has: but I am a great eater of beef and I believe that does harm to my wit.”

Food security and political power

All these concerns about consumption took a different dimension during periods of scarcity, and Shakespeare's England experienced significant food insecurity, marked by periods of famine and death. The bad harvests of 1594-97 and 1607-08 led to soaring food prices and declining living standards, events portrayed in Romeo and Juliet (1594) and most notably Coriolanus.

Coriolanus, written during the Corn Famine of 1608, directly confronts food insecurity and social inequality. While the play doesn't shine a light on the cause of the dearth, it does reflect the period's uncertainty. Opening with plebeians protesting food shortages, the play examines how food consumption shapes political dynamics. It is the same Coriolanus who argued about who got to eat and who didn't.

The "belly speech" delivered by Menenius, a high-ranking government official, perfectly illustrates the period's hierarchical view of food distribution: “That I receive the general food at first, which you do live upon; and fit it is, because I am the store-house and the shop of the whole body [...] this says the belly, mark me,—” His metaphor notably omits any recognition of the labour required for food production, a blind spot common among the ruling class.

This same character during Act IV Scene 6, dismisses the plebeians as "the breath of garlic eaters," revealing how food preferences marked social status. The play creates a complex association between breath, voice, and political power – the citizens' voices are deemed offensive because they carry the scent of foods associated with lower social status. Here, food-as-object transforms into food-as-metaphor, highlighting the political stakes in how food is represented and distributed.

Food, labour and religion

The intersection of food, labour, and social status appears in Winter's Tale (1610), where Shakespeare presents a seemingly simple shopping list that reveals complex social dynamics. When the shepherd reviews items for a sheep-shearing feast– “Let me see; what am I to buy for our sheep-shearing feast? Three pound of sugar, five pound of currants, rice,—what will this sister of mine do with rice? [...] I must have saffron to colour the warden pies; mace; dates?—none, that's out of my note; nutmegs, seven; a race or two of ginger, but that I may beg; four pound of prunes, and as many of raisins o' the sun.” – each ingredient carries cultural significance.

The shepherd's uncertainty about rice ("What will this sister of mine do with rice?") signals his stepsister Perdita's unusual wealth and her willingness to share abundance with workers during the sheep-shearing celebration. Joan Fitzpatrick notes that this predominantly vegetarian feast features numerous imported luxury items, making it a statement of both prosperity and cultural sophistication.

Julia Lupton, in the book Culinary Shakespeare, observes that these ingredients–sugar, raisins, and spices–commonly appeared in Renaissance recipes for whitpot, a sweet, buttery bread pudding considered a traditional English dessert.

What appears to be a simple shopping list with rice, ginger, mace, nutmeg, and saffron represents a fusion of Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Hindu, and Hellenistic culinary traditions, all coming together in a homemade dish to be served in a feast that crossed social boundaries, shared by labourers, landowners, disguised royalty, and itinerant attendants.

For dessert

Shakespeare's treatment of food and drink goes beyond a simple meal. His insights into the politics of consumption and food's power to both unite and divide communities remain as fresh and relevant as ever.

Through imported goods like beer, sack, sugar, and oranges, his plays explore how what we eat and drink shapes, and is shaped by, state power, religious practice, and cultural identity. We can see the line he drew between local foods that mark traditional English identity and exotic imports that represent both prestige and foreign influence.

As food historians David Goldstein, Amy Tigner, and Wendy Wall observe, "In Shakespeare's world, eating wasn't just sustenance—it was an act laden with social, political, and cultural significance."