What We Ate, and Why It Changed Everything

Shai Amar

14 Apr 2025 • 9 min read

An Intro

Imagine trying to understand human evolution not through fossils or genes or fire, but through… snacks. Seriously. This is the story of how everything from charred mammoth ribs to Instagram smoothie bowls helped shape who we are. It’s a journey that starts with early hominins chewing on grass and ends with us Googling “is oat milk healthy?” at 2am.

Along the way, we learn that cooking food may have made us smarter (but also gave us asthma), that agriculture fed the world (but maybe also ruined our teeth), and that despite all our tech and knowledge, we’re still biologically wired to chase sugar like it’s a survival game. Spoiler: it used to be.

This is the human story told through food — hilarious, heartbreaking, and full of existential snack crises.

We Were Just Apes… Until We Cooked Dinner

Roughly 3.5 million years ago, your ancestors weren’t worrying about carbs or cholesterol. They were worrying about not getting eaten. And while modern humans scroll WebMD, Australopithecus afarensis was out there chewing on grass. Literal grass. Because back then, that was the vibe.

Then came fire. Not in a metaphorical “find your passion” kind of way—actual fire. Homo erectus figured out that roasting tubers and meat not only made them tastier, but also easier to chew. And suddenly, our jaws shrank, our brains ballooned, and dental bills plummeted (probably).

Fire meant fewer pathogens, more calories, and tragically, smoky caves. Which means yes, your great-great-great-[insert 75 more greats]-grandparent may have been the first to cough around a campfire. Progress has a price.

Meat Made Us Smarter (But Also Kind of Scavengers)

By 2.5 million years ago, hominins started adding meat to the menu. Not in a fancy ribeye-on-a-wooden-board way—more like “hey, a lion left this gazelle leg, let’s gnaw on it before the vultures come back.”

Eventually, we got better at hunting. And that dense, juicy protein? It didn’t just fill bellies. It helped power bigger brains. Think of it like upgrading from a flip phone to a neural network. This is known as the expensive tissue hypothesis—basically, you can’t have a big brain and a big gut. So we trimmed our guts and fueled our brains with meat.

Neanderthals doubled down on meat. Like, mammoth-for-breakfast levels of meat. Meanwhile, early Homo sapiens diversified—some plants, some fish, a little mammoth here and there. And that flexibility? It probably helped us survive when climate changes hit the fan.

Welcome to Agriculture, Where the Calories Are Plentiful and the Cavities Are Too

Fast forward to around 12,000 years ago. Someone decided it was easier to plant wheat than chase gazelles. Enter agriculture. Humanity traded six-pack abs for a steady supply of bread. And honestly, who wouldn’t?

Farming changed everything. It created surplus, cities, and class systems. It also brought tooth decay, iron deficiency, and back pain (thanks, plowing). Diets became starch-heavy and less diverse. Oats and peas were in; wild berries and elk, not so much.

Meanwhile, early farmers were shrinking—literally. Shorter skeletons, more dental caries, more anemia. So basically, civilization made us sit down and eat carbs. And our skeletons noticed.

Fermentation – Nature’s Multivitamin

To survive seasonal scarcity and boring cereal bowls, humans got clever. Enter fermentation. Ancient folks realized that letting cabbage rot just the right amount turned it into kimchi or sauerkraut—and also preserved vitamins.

Meanwhile, milk entered the chat. At first, lactose-intolerant adults everywhere said “no thanks.” But eventually, some populations adapted. Those with the lactase persistence gene could digest dairy and get bonus calories during famine. Genetics met culture. Boom: evolution with cheese.

Industrialization – When Food Became Both Abundant and… Weird

Now we’re in the 1800s. Cue machines, trains, and the invention of the canned mystery meat. Urban workers stopped farming and started working 12-hour shifts under soot-filled skies. Vitamin D deficiencies (a.k.a. rickets) skyrocketed, and governments responded with nutrition science. Hello, iodized salt. Hello, fortified flour.

Then came the wars, and with them, rationing. Surprisingly, this made public health better. People got more balanced diets—less sugar, more fiber, actual vegetables. Unfortunately, the 1950s then arrived with fat-phobia, margarine, and a rising sugar addiction. And we’re still cleaning up that mess.

Today’s food scene is basically: “Congratulations, you’re surviving! But also, you might be low-key inflamed.”

Globalization made Doritos available everywhere. Traditional diets got replaced by shelf-stable snacks. Obesity soared. Malnutrition didn’t vanish—it just changed shape. Now it’s not about lack of food, but lack of nutrients in food.

Some call it the nutrition transition. Others call it Tuesday.

And just when things couldn’t get weirder, science stepped in with personalized diets, DNA-based food plans, and functional foods like omega-3-enriched eggs. Yes, even your breakfast has an algorithm now.

Culture, Calories, and Kosher Pickles

Food isn’t just biology. It’s culture, memory, ritual. From Jewish kosher laws to Hindu vegetarianism to your grandmother’s secret soup recipe, food carries meaning. Fasting during Ramadan or Lent may have unintended metabolic benefits. But more importantly, it reminds us that food is never just food.

And in a plot twist, modern ultra-processed foods hijack our ancient cravings. We evolved to love sweet and salty. Now Big Snack uses that against us. What once helped us survive winter now fuels binge-eating in air-conditioned rooms.

Eat Like a Human (But Maybe a Slightly Wiser One)

Here’s what history teaches us: every diet innovation—fire, farming, food science—gave us something and took something else. Bigger brains, but worse jaws. More calories, but fewer nutrients. Fewer famines, but more inflammation.

And yet, we’ve survived. We’ve adapted. We’ve fermented cabbage and milk, fortified flour, and turned kale into chips. The story of human nutrition isn’t about finding the perfect diet. It’s about learning to listen—to science, to tradition, and to our own bodies.

Because while some infinities are bigger than others, the one inside your lunchbox still matters.

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