The Rise of Mukbang
Mukbang started in South Korea in the late 2000s as a live-streaming trend: people eating massive amounts of food while chatting with their audience. It quickly went global. Today, mukbang creators rack up millions of views slurping noodles, cracking crab shells, or biting into fried chicken, all while talking to the camera.
Why does it work?
It’s social. Eating is communal, but modern life is isolating. Watching someone else eat feels like sharing a meal.
It’s intimate. Food is personal. When someone invites you into their “dinner,” it feels like friendship.
It’s sensory. The crunch, the slurp, the steam rising off a plate. It triggers cravings and comfort.
Competitive Eating vs. Casual Eating
On one end of the spectrum, you’ve got BeardMeatsFood (Matt Stonie) swallowing record-breaking portions. On the other hand, you’ve got creators casually eating lunch while chatting about their day.
The appeal is oddly similar:
Spectacle. Whether it’s too much food or just perfectly plated food, our brains love extremes.
Relatability. We all eat. Seeing others do it, at scale or in ASMR, is strangely grounding.
Fantasy. We can’t (or shouldn’t) eat like that, but watching scratches the itch.
So while you’re eating your “sad desk salad,” you can watch someone else devour a mountain of fries and live vicariously through them.
The Foodie Economy
Of course, it’s not just about eating. It’s about showing. Food has become the star of Instagram posts, TikTok recipes, and YouTube challenges. Why?
Aesthetics. Food is colorful, textured, and visually satisfying.
Clout. Posting the right meal at the right spot signals taste, money, or status.
Community. Hashtags like #FoodTok or #EatWithMe create endless loops of sharing.
In many ways, food content is the internet’s safest form of expression. Not everyone can post designer outfits or luxury vacations. But everyone eats. Everyone can post a latte art shot.
The Positives
Connection
Watching mukbangs or food challenges can feel like sitting down with a friend. It breaks loneliness, especially for younger viewers or people far from home.
Cultural Exchange
Food videos expose us to cuisines and traditions we might never encounter otherwise. A ramen mukbang in Seoul might inspire someone in Amsterdam to try their first spicy noodles.
Entertainment
Sometimes it’s just fun. Food content is light, digestible (pun intended), and always relatable.
Creativity
From recipe hacks to weird food experiments, food content has spawned new forms of creativity. Half cooking show, half comedy sketch.
The Downsides
Overconsumption
Some mukbangs and competitive eating videos normalize extreme portions. For young viewers, that can warp ideas about what “normal” looks like.
Health Risks
For creators, constant binge-style eating is tough on the body. Behind the scenes, some struggle with the toll.
Food Waste
There’s criticism when creators order giant spreads only to throw much of it away off-camera. It may seem indulgent, but it can feel tone-deaf in a world grappling with food insecurity.
Algorithm Pressure
To stay relevant, creators often have to go bigger, weirder, or louder. That means more food, more extremes, and less balance.
Why We Really Watch
Here’s the heart of it: food content is comforting because it’s universal. Everyone eats. Watching someone else eat isn’t just about food. It’s about seeing life framed through something familiar.
A mukbang feels like you’re not eating alone.
A food challenge feels like watching someone climb a mountain.
A cooking TikTok feels like you’ve learned something new in 30 seconds.
And yes, there’s an element of escapism. While you’re picking at your Caesar salad, you can live vicariously through someone inhaling five pounds of pasta.
Final Bite
Our obsession with watching people eat says a lot about us. It’s part comfort, part curiosity, part comedy. It can be warm and connective, but also problematic when pushed too far.
At its best, food content is a digital dinner table. A place where strangers can feel like friends, where cultures collide, where entertainment is served hot and fresh. At its worst, it’s spectacle, waste, and unhealthy habits disguised as fun.
But one thing’s for sure: whether it’s BeardMeatsFood finishing a monster burger or a mukbang star slurping ramen, we’ll keep clicking. Because food isn’t just fuel. Its content. And in 2025, it’s the kind of content that nobody seems to get enough of.
