In a world where avocado toast and artisanal kale chips reign supreme, a panel of esteemed culinary geniuses gathered for the highly anticipated "Summit on Traditional Foods" last Thursday. Nestled within the opulent walls of the Culinary Institute of Gilded Forks, this event set out to address a pressing dilemma: preserving culinary heritage or just defining yet another overpriced snack for hipster foodies desperately seeking authenticity. Delegates from around the globe arrived, donning handcrafted cheese hats and quinoa bow ties, with proclamations of "save the heritage" echoing amidst the plush leather chairs. The event featured a carefully curated selection of traditional snacks, each costing more than a small car. Fair-trade, organic, and gluten-free, of course. One of the summit's highlighted dishes was artisanal grass from the Andes, lovingly harvested by monks who have sworn oaths of silence so they wouldn't disturb the delicate flavor profiles. For a mere $100 per ounce, attendees could savor this "earthy essence,” which had a suspiciously strong resemblance to, you guessed it, actual grass. “It’s the taste of tradition!” gasped one enthusiastic participant, simultaneously Instagramming her artisanal grass latte with the hashtag #HeritageSips. The keynote speaker, a world-renowned chef known primarily for his ability to turn mystery meats into viral TikTok sensations, passionately advocated for the revival of “forgotten” dishes. He breathlessly described the time-consuming process of creating a dish that involved frying air and serving it atop a single, delicate speckled dot of sauce. “It’s all about the visual presentation,” he declared. “Culinary art is the new performance art. What’s a dish if no one sees it?” Between sessions, attendees partook in the “Savor Traditional Snacks Safari,” a guided tour through the complexities of traditional snacks reimagined for the contemporary palate. En route, participants could marvel at the “unique” takes on classic dishes. For instance, who could resist buffalo wings infused with truffle oil and served on a bed of organic, free-range lettuce? After all, what’s more traditional than wings slathered in cooking oil harvested on the harvest moon? Midway through the conference, the halls erupted into a frenzy over a pop-up booth featuring the latest trend: “Handcrafted Tastes of Yesteryear.” A charming elderly chef, rumored to have actually cooked with fire and wood, was serving up his grandmother’s famous clam chowder, only this version was meticulously vacuum-sealed in individual glass jars and sold at an eye-watering price. “I had to go back in time to find the recipe,” he said, puffing out his chest with pride. “But the shipping fees to get back from the 1960s were atrocious!” As day turned into night, a palpable tension arose among participants. Delegates posed the difficult question: were they genuinely preserving culinary traditions or simply exploiting nostalgia for an easy profit? They grappled with the reality that if traditional foods became too trendy, they risked losing their very authenticity. “We need to keep it underground!” stressed one delegate while sipping a carefully crafted artisanal pickle martini. “Or else it’ll just become plain old mainstream!” In the end, the Summit on Traditional Foods concluded with a rousing resolution: to continue preserving culinary heritage one overpriced bite at a time. As the attendees sashayed past the gourmet food trucks peddling ethnic fusion creations, they left rejuvenated and armed with the knowledge that saving tradition involves a hefty price tag and an Instagram-ready presentation. Because, really, what better way to keep culinary heritage alive than to sell it in stylish boutique shops for the masses who can afford to pay for a taste of history—one hipster at a time?