Chapter 1: The Problem
As you might have insightfully guessed, I love all culinary things vanilla and I’ve noticed over the years of expressing my preference that vanilla, and being a vanillophile often come with negative connotations.
"That’s so vanilla” “She/he/they is/are so vanilla” “A vanilla comedian/politician.” The stinging implication here is that “vanilla” is being used to replace “boring”, “plain” and “lacking in character.” A quick search for “Vanilla” with generative AI returns this result: “For example, you might say "I prefer plain vanilla ice cream" to indicate that you like the simple, classic flavor” or “’Vanilla’ can be used as a negative term to describe someone or something that is ordinary, with no special or extra features
”Plain!? Simple!? Ordinary!? EXCUSE ME!? Nay, Excuse YOU!?
Vanilla, as it should taste - as it does taste when correctly expressed - is an incredibly rich, indulgent, flavor. It tastes to me exactly how I imagine the flavor of gold to be (the feeling, not the metal), which is not that hyperbolic when you consider that vanilla is the most expensive spice in the world after saffron. That price tag demonstrates that I’m not unfounded in my obsessive search for the flavor. In fact, it’s highly sought in the finest restaurants and bakeries across the world.
So how then, does a spice considered by many one of the most valuable in the world, find itself so commonly dismissed, belittled and downright insulted?
The problem is that when most people refer to a vanilla-flavored item, they’re not actually referring to a vanilla flavored item. They’re usually referring to the base-version of something before the real flavor is added. Like a “vanilla” cake or ice cream, which is really just the base for the chocolate version and missing the cocoa. But the thing is, these base versions are missing the vanilla too.A “vanilla” cake or cupcake rarely actually has any vanilla in it, and I agree, these poor excuses for baked goods taste awful. Who am I to judge for taste: if you like your cake tasting like butter and sugar, by all means bake it/sell it/buy it but for the love of all that is vanholy do not label it as “vanilla” cake when in reality it is a butter and sugar flavored cake. A vanilla cake/ice cream should be the base version (butter, sugar, ecc) plus a dousing of vanilla bean.
Chapter 2: A Sad Tale
I made the mistake once, in NYC, to venture into a certain well-known bakery. I was so excited. I had heard so much about their institutional baking. For years, it had been touted to me as the par-excellence cupcakery of the world. The reviews on Google confirm this. I may or may not have spent a few hours of my youth admiring their cupcake pictures. This was undoubtedly going to be the best vanilla cupcake of my life, right? WRONG!
Alack! My hopes, my dreams for humani- I mean- cupcakes were mercilessly crushed into the crumbles of a bitterly disappointing buttery sweet dough with a lump of overly sugared creamy concoction apparently called frosting. The infamy! The sheer effrontery of daring to call this insult to a good palate, a vanilla cupcake! Where exactly was the vanilla involved in the making of that thing!? They call themselves a bakery???
Chapter 3: Conclusion
The next time you feel the inclination to refer to someone or something as “vanilla” in order to denote their boringness, plainness, predictability or lack of adventurousness, please remember that what you really mean is “that is so cream” or “you’re so butter and sugar.”