Article by ICG member Aakanksha Haran

In the quiet warmth of British kitchens, where rain softly taps windowpanes and the kettle’s
whistle breaks the morning silence, a deeper story simmers alongside the aroma of spices, pots
of dal, and masala chai. For South Asians in the UK- Indians, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis food is
more than sustenance. It is a memory machine and a cultural anchor. Each fragrant dish evokes
bustling markets back home, family mealtimes around steel thalis, and the laughter of festivals
under monsoon skies. As detailed in the 2025 Smart Move Ventures research, new settlers often
find themselves overwhelmed not just by logistics, but by longing: calling mothers for recipes,
craving smells of home. In these kitchens, food is memory stirred into motion, spooned gently
over rice, steeped in tea, and sizzled in mustard oil. The clatter of pans becomes a language of
connection, of holding on, of quietly saying, ‘I haven’t let go.’

The first waves of South Asian immigrants arrived post-Windrush, during the 1950s and 60s,
amid Britain’s call for post-war labour. These pioneers came with grit, resilience and spice tins
tucked tightly in luggage. The UK Home Office acknowledges that over half a million people from
the Indian subcontinent settled in the UK between 1950 and 1980. At that time, British high
streets offered little beyond bland canned goods. Familiar ingredients like ajwain or curry leaves
were rare finds. Today, however, the contrast is striking. Back home, buying spices was often a
visit to a bustling bazaar; a dance of voices, colours, scoops of turmeric and Kashmiri chilli
weighed by hand. In the UK, South Asians now make weekly pilgrimages to Asian supermarkets
and local stores like Soho Road’s spice shops or use online platforms stocked with brands like
MDH, Rajah, or Shan. What was once hand-packed in cloth sacks is now clicked into digital
baskets. Yet, the search is still sacred. Each spice bought is a thread in the fabric of cultural
preservation.

Over time, South Asian food in the UK evolved from survival fare to shared celebration. Across
temples, mosques, and gurdwaras, flavours once confined to separate states and sects began
mingling. A Tamil sambhar might now sit beside Punjabi chole at community potlucks. The SMV
study found that while Bangladeshis missed fish curries and Pakistanis longed for biryani, all
turned to food during festivals to feel whole. In these kitchens, identity is not static; it simmers,
blends, and binds. And this isn’t a one-way street. Increasingly, British families are embracing
this culinary heritage. Chicken tikka masala, once dubbed Britain’s national dish, now shares
space with regional delicacies in high-street supermarkets. From tea lattes to biryani meal kits,
South Asian flavours are being folded into the British palate, and with it, a deeper appreciation
for the stories behind the food.

For the children and grandchildren of migrants, the kitchen has become a bridge between two
worlds. These generations, raised with roti in lunchboxes and shepherd’s pie at school dinners,
are not merely inheriting recipes but they are remixing them. The SMV report spotlights dishes
like “masala mac and cheese,” “cardamom-infused Victoria sponge cakes,” and “samosa
burgers” as acts of cultural creativity. One participant recall, “I FaceTime my mum while making
dal, and then finish it off with a fried egg of my version.” These mashups are not signs of dilution,
but declarations of ownership. The younger generation plates are palimpsests, layered with
memory, innovation, and identity. The act of cooking is no longer just remembrance, it is
Yet amid all this innovation, the emotional pull of heritage food remains unshaken. In the SMV
research, homesickness was most profoundly tied to taste. The scent of ghee, the snap of cumin
seeds in hot oil are not mere ingredients, they are portals. Government initiatives like the UK’s
Community Integration Grants have recognized this, funding kitchens and food festivals that
bring people together across differences. In multicultural hubs like Birmingham or Leicester,
where according to the 2021 Census, over 40% of the population identifies as Asian, and food
has become a shared language, not just within the diaspora but across communities. In these
places, South Asian food no longer whispers from the margins, but it speaks proudly from street
corners, school canteens, and Sunday markets.

Food’s emotional charge extends beyond nostalgia, it nourishes selfhood. In a world rushing
toward convenience, slow-cooked dal is rebellion. According to SMV data, even highly
assimilated professionals like doctors, engineers, researchers cling to culinary rituals passed
down generations. Lunchboxes are packed with care, and recipes are kept in WhatsApp
messages and memory. With the rise of home-based businesses, many South Asian migrants
have turned cooking into livelihood: over 12,000 South Asian food businesses are now registered
in the UK (UK Business Statistics, 2023). These ventures include catering services, spice sellers,
sweet makers who are both economic engines and cultural beacons. They tell a simple truth that
food sustains more than bodies, it sustains legacies.

And so, in every lovingly packed tiffin, in every chai brewed at dusk, a story is being retold- a
story of departure, longing, reinvention, and quiet pride. The British kitchen has become a stage
for memory and imagination, where naan meets Nutella, and curry simmers beside casseroles.
It is here, in the stir of a ladle or the soft press of dough, that migrants reconcile heritage with
home. As one participant said, “Cooking makes me feel I’m still me, even here.” It’s a reminder
that home is not always a place; it can be a smell, a taste, a ritual. And in a land where the rain
through every lovingly cooked meal.

Sources:

SMV 2025 research report
https://old.causewaycoastandglens.gov.uk/
https://www.ons.gov.uk/
https://www.cityoflondon.gov.uk/

(2) Aakanksha Haran | LinkedIn

Article by ICG Advertiser, The Language Factory 

English may be one of the most widely spoken languages, with 1.53 billion people worldwide who speak it natively or as a second language*, but did you know that other European languages have also left their mark around the globe? *Statista

French is the official language of 32 states, with over 61% of these states based in Africa. There are more Spanish speakers in Mexico (132.5 million) and Colombia (52.7 million) than in Spain itself. Arabic is an official or co-official language across 25 countries and recognised as a minority language in six more.

All these languages have something in common: regional variations, idioms and cultural nuances that can significantly influence your audience and impact your business. For example, only translating your marketing content into Peninsular Arabic risks alienating speakers of other dialects, while translating your research survey into Québecois French (Canadian French) ignores Swiss French, French in France and all the African French dialects.

In this blog, the TLF team highlights the value of localisation by including regional variations and top tips to get it right the first time..

Read the full article here 

Article by ICG member Felicia Schwartz, China Insight 

Fan Ji- Earth Nidus 1/2 – glazed earthenware, aluminium mesh, flocks. RCA website

In a world where your mug knows your preferred tea temperature and your audio speaker greets you with a smile, the lines between human and object are quietly blurring. Beneath this shift lies a subtle but growing influence: East Asian animism—the worldview that all things, living or not, possess a spirit or inner life. Once relegated to an obscure area of oriental philosophy, animist thinking is now shaping how brands design, market, and ritualize products to emotionally connect to consumers.

While Western consumer culture has long celebrated functionality and ownership, East Asian animism brings a relational lens—treating objects as beings, not tools. Increasingly, this philosophy is turning up in surprising places. Here are four emerging trends:

1. Objects as Companions, Not Tools

Forget kawaii and cottagecore aesthetics—this is deeper. Designers are embedding subtle emotional cues into products, encouraging users to relate to objects like companions. Tech items like the Ember Mug, with its single glowing LED “eye,” appears watchful whilst catering to your tea mug warming needs. Italian brand Alessi has long anthropomorphized kitchen tools with smiling faces and playful gestures. This design language endows everyday objects with presence, gaze, and even personality.

2. Design Philosophy from Object-Oriented Ontology (OOO)

In design schools like RCA and Parsons, Object-Oriented Ontology is moving from obscure philosophy into applied thinking. OOO argues that objects have their own essence, independent of human use—a perspective that echoes animist traditions. In practice, this has led to more emotionally complex, even “weird,” design outcomes: objects that resist human mastery and invite us into co-existence, not control.

3. Emotional Sustainability: Mending Over Discarding

IKEA’s recent research into “emotionally durable” design highlights a shift from “simple” sustainability to meaningful connection. Inspired by Japanese traditions like Kintsugi—mending broken pottery with gold—brands are asking how people bond with objects over time. Consumers are not just keeping things longer; they’re treasuring the story embedded in their wear, damage, or repair. This emotional logic, rooted in reverence for impermanence, gives objects a kind of evolving “spirit.”

4. Care Rituals for Products

Brands are beginning to include “care guides” with products—not just usage instructions, but ongoing rituals of maintenance. High-end knives, audio gear, and even skincare now come with instructions similar to how one might care for a plant or pet. These guides foster a sense of reciprocity: treat the object well, and it will serve you with loyalty. This shift reframes ownership as relationship, not possession.

Why It Matters for Insight Professionals

For researchers, these trends signal a deepening of emotional logic in consumption—a move from ownership to kinship, from use to care. As Western consumers adopt practices that reflect East Asian animism, we’re seeing not a fad, but a worldview shift. Objects are becoming participants in the household, the workspace, and the self. Understanding this subtle transformation opens the door to richer cultural insight—and more resonant brand strategies.

Felicia Schwartz is the founder and director of www.chinainsight.co.uk, a strategic insight consultancy offering research and strategic activation across East and SE Asia.

Article by ICG member Alessandra Rizzo, Se Synergic Evolution

The current prudence in purchases due to a diminished spending capacity, in the case of the high-end, is also linked to that effect called ‘luxury shame’ which has led the most affluent customers less affected by the crisis to slow down or postpone their purchases due to greater awareness and ‘ethics’.  In practice, this is a reaction against the excessive visibility of luxury, which can be seen as misplaced in times of crisis or increased attention to social inequalities.

The advent of ‘quiet luxury’ is a socio-economic phenomenon of considerable interest, the analysis of which is particularly pertinent in the context of the current dynamics of economic crisis. Far from being a mere aesthetic trend, this expression of luxury is distinguished by a deliberate opposition to ostentation, favouring the intrinsic quality, craftsmanship and durability of products over more ephemeral but immediately recognizable logos and status symbols. Examples of ‘quiet luxury’ are brands such as Loro Piana, Bottega Veneta, Brunello Cucinelli, The Row, Hermès.

From a research perspective, quiet luxury can be interpreted as an adaptive response of affluent consumers to a climate of economic uncertainty and, in some cases, a growing social aversion to conspicuous consumption. In times of recession or slowing growth, the brazen display of wealth may be perceived as insensitive or even reprehensible, prompting consumers to adopt more discreet but no less expensive consumption strategies. Moreover, the concept of aspirationality, which has always driven the consumption of designer products, is now moving away from the idea of status towards new, more valuable and sustainable horizons.

The implications of this shift are multiple. At a macroeconomic level, it could indicate a reallocation of spending towards productive sectors that value excellence and innovation, potentially stimulating more sustainable and niche production. At a behavioural level, it suggests an evolution in value perception, where investment in durable, high quality, yet discrete goods become a more sophisticated and profound marker of status.

Future research should investigate the persistence of this trend, its ramifications on emerging markets and the impact on the strategic positioning of luxury companies that have to adapt to this change. Quiet luxury does not appear to be a passing fad, but a profound evolution in the way consumers perceive and desire luxury. The brands that know how to embrace this transformation, putting authenticity, intrinsic quality and discretion at the centre, will be the ones best able to navigate the challenges and seize the opportunities of the future market.

(1) Alessandra Rizzo | LinkedIn