I used to think taste was something we discovered, like a hidden part of ourselves waiting to be revealed. The foods we liked, the restaurants we returned to, the dishes we recommended to friends. Over time, I realised taste is less about finding who we are and more about understanding what shaped us.

I noticed this one evening while sitting alone at a café in Tiong Bahru. I had been pulled into a whirlwind brunch trips around here from trying Tiong Bahru Bakery, which I definitely recommend you take a peek at here on Influencer Foodie. I ordered something familiar, almost automatically. It was not because it was the newest item on the menu or something everyone was talking about. It was simply something I knew I would enjoy. That small decision made me wonder how many of our food choices are actually choices, and how many are memories disguised as preferences.

As a food influencer, I spend a lot of time thinking about why people like what they like. There is always an expectation to explain taste in simple terms. Is it worth the price? Is it better than another place? Would someone else enjoy it?

But food rarely works that neatly.

I remember visiting Apartment Coffee and ordering their iced white. It was a simple drink in a familiar setting, but what stayed with me was not the coffee itself. It was the feeling of being in a space where people came to slow down, work quietly, or have conversations that did not need to be rushed.

The more I eat, the more I realise taste is built from experiences. Someone who grew up sharing family meals might value generosity and comfort. Someone who discovered food through travelling might look for unfamiliar flavours. Someone who spends weekends exploring cafés might appreciate the atmosphere as much as what is on the plate.

None of these preferences are more correct than the others.

Even when I visit places like Nouri, where the experience is shaped around modern dining and thoughtful dishes, I find myself thinking less about whether something fits a certain definition of “good food”. Instead, I think about why certain moments stay with us and why some meals become stories we tell others.

Perhaps taste is not just about what reaches our mouths. It is about everything that happens before that moment: where we grew up, who introduced us to certain foods, and the experiences we carry into every meal.

Maybe the reason we disagree about food so often is because we are never really talking about the same thing. We are talking about ourselves.