On the far horizon: food
Devouring Tomorrow: Fiction from the Future of Food
edited by Jeff Dupuis and A.G. Pasquella
Toronto: Dundurn Press, 2025
$24.99 / 9781459754980
Reviewed by Jessica Poon
*
Devouring Tomorrow is an intriguing, intermittently humorous if uneven short story collection edited by Jeff Dupuis and A.G. Pasquella. Think lab-grown meat, scarcity due to climate change, and menu items like Emma Stones’s Ovaries.
These stories are probably in a certain order for excellent reasons, but I don’t know what they are. The overarching tone of many of the selections—not all—is a self-aware blitheness that seems to aim for profound pithiness that makes light of the often gravely serious, almost as if to say “I know that you know that I know, and so we both know what I’m going for here.”
For instance, the last story, “Recipe From the Future” by Gary Barwin, the tone of the story can be captured with these lines: “You know what I miss? Sadness. Know what we call that now? Lunch.” Sometimes the quippiness works; sometimes it doesn’t; your mileage may vary. Barwin’s story does have the good taste to reference Jonathan Swift’s arguably funniest work, “A Modest Proposal,” and if you aren’t familiar with it, go there first.
The opening story, “Pleased to Meet You” by Catherine Bush, exudes an apropos urgency absent in some of the others.The narrator speaks with the collective “we” pronoun—the voice of lab-grown meat. They point out “People don’t want a cow or a pig or a chicken, they want hamburger patty, they want thigh and breast meat.” How easily people—or consumers—render animals into edible parts—like Internal Family Systems gone murderously wrong.
The lab-grown meat explains that the scientists “were not very receptive” to the meat introducing themselves because the “scientists did not notice this quality of our being at first because they were not looking for it. Also because they thought it was impossible. Unimaginable.” The ending is gently haunting: “We mean no harm. … But we are here—yes, here, cellular, molecular, conscious, becoming part of you.” In other words, you are what you eat—even if you aren’t listening to what you eat.
In “I Want Candy” by Vancouver’s Dina Del Bucchia, Jenny F. and Nic B., two overly online people write reviews on Screech, a thinly veiled Yelp, where they exchange insults in their respective reviews of various restaurants. One of them, Jenny F., reminds me of the kind of clientele a restaurant I used to work at, attracted. It was a three-floored restaurant in Yaletown with the kind of patio that gave phone cameras their true calling—you did not really come for the food, or the mediocre happy hour; at least, I hope not—you came for the view, and in the case of some patrons, to flirt inappropriately with your server. Jenny B. is inclined to give everything five stars, and to write voluble praise, such as “My girlfriends and I were offered premium vintage heroin in the powder room. Drug attendants are new, but I think will be all the rage in the next six months. It lives up to the hype!” In contrast, Nic B. grouses about socioeconomic disparities, the mendacity of the government, and goes out of his way to insult Jenny F.: “I hate you with every fibre of my high-sodium, trash-eating, low-flavour diet! And yet, I dedicate this dumpster-diver saccharine feast to you and your phoney ass. I hope you choke on a vape cartridge!”
The structure of the story being presented in the form of reviews, all dated in 2182, demonstrates how effectively the hermit crab format takes an exuberant, mischievous life of its own. As far as deliberate humour goes, “I Want Candy” is a success.
In “Succulent” by Vancouver-born Elan Mastai, expect to see the names of A-list celebrities as a menu item. For instance, “Moo Shu Meryl Streep.” Although the dialogue does feature quotation marks, there are no attributions or names assigned to the people speaking, which may be fundamentally irritating for a more traditionally oriented reader; however, it may also be a welcome, light-hearted deviation from convention for people who are unbothered by an absence of descriptors or setting and simply want to hear people talk. One gets the impression the story is meant, more than anything else, to entertain and reel off celebrities, and if that intent is correct, then this story does indeed deliver.
“A View Worth All the Aqua in the World” by Anuja Varghese is a story about the scarcity of water told in second-person and features this striking line: “you cannot help but think there is a danger in naming human after creatures that, by slaughter or starvation or acts of vengeful gods, eventually all went instinct.”
I was reminded of virtually identical knock-off designer bags and authentic designer bags when I read “Just a Taste” by A.G.A. Wilmot—a man demands a real burger; a realistic “synthetic dream facsimile” won’t do. This story, more than any other in the collection, exudes science fiction vibes—plot is central and everyone has a cool name; there is world-building but also rapid-fire dialogue.
Without revealing what transpires, “Marianne Is Not Hungry” by Jowita Bydlowska, is ironically titled and features propulsive writing that reminded me of Myriam Lacroix’s novel, How It Works Out, particularly the shared utter lack of squeamishness about what might be considered profane.
“Lorenzo and the Last Fig” by Vancouver’s Eddy Boudel Tan, following Bydlowska’s story, is a drastic vibe shift, insofar that it is emphatically sincere and emotive, perhaps an antidote to anyone who realized, as an adult, just how disturbing The Giving Tree by Shel Silvestein is.
It is a tremendously rare short story collection where I could honestly say that I loved all of them equally—I daresay, it is a phenomenon that has never stricken me, and this collection is no exception.
But, if you’re looking for something largely cavalier and you’ve been doom-scrolling, then, Devouring Tomorrow might well satiate your appetite.
*
Originally from East Vancouver, Jessica Poon is a writer, former line cook, and pianist of dubious merit who recently returned to BC after completing a MFA in Creative Writing at the University of Guelph. [Editor’s note: Jessica interviewed Sheung-King, and recently reviewed books by Angela Douglas, Holly Brickley, Alastair McAlpine, Jack Wang, Bal Khabra, Christopher Cheung, Anne Hawk, Pat Dobie, and Giana Darling for BCR.]
*
The British Columbia Review
Interim Editors, 2023-26: Trevor Marc Hughes (non-fiction), Brett Josef Grubisic (fiction and poetry)
Publisher: Richard Mackie
Formerly The Ormsby Review, The British Columbia Review is an online book review and journal service for BC writers and readers. The Advisory Board now consists of Jean Barman, Wade Davis, Robin Fisher, Barry Gough, Hugh Johnston, Kathy Mezei, Patricia Roy, and Graeme Wynn. Provincial Government Patron (since September 2018): Creative BC. Honorary Patron: Yosef Wosk. Scholarly Patron: SFU Graduate Liberal Studies. The British Columbia Review was founded in 2016 by Richard Mackie and Alan Twigg.
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