A recent legal dispute in the UK has highlighted a troubling trend: the attempt to claim private ownership over words that belong to the shared lexicon of global food culture. The conflict centered on the word “sabzi,” a term used across South Asia and the Middle East to simply mean vegetables or fresh greens.
The author, a food writer, found herself threatened with legal action by a business owner who had trademarked the word “sabzi” for her deli and potential future products, including a cookbook. The business accused the writer of infringing on this trademark by publishing her own vegetarian cookbook titled “Sabzi.” Legal letters demanded sensitive commercial data and even reserved the right to seek the destruction of the author’s books.
For the writer, this was more than a legal headache. “Sabzi” is not a brand; it is a daily word in countless households, from Iran, where it is central to the national dish ghormeh sabzi, to Pakistan and India. To claim exclusive rights to such a term felt like an attempt to privatize a piece of common cultural heritage.
The situation escalated when the business owner took the dispute public on social media, framing it as a battle against a larger entity, and filed a trademark complaint with a major online retailer. This resulted in the cookbook being temporarily removed from sale—a direct blow to the author’s livelihood during a crucial sales period.
The case took a surreal turn when a letter arrived from the Duchy of Cornwall, a historic feudal estate, supporting the business’s trademark claim. This involvement underscored how power and privilege can become entangled in disputes over cultural ownership.
This incident is not isolated. It echoes other attempts by companies, often in the global north, to trademark or patent common food terms from the global south, such as “pho,” “chili crunch,” or “basmati.” Farmers and activists have long fought similar “biopiracy” cases over seeds and plants, arguing these actions represent a modern form of colonial extraction, using intellectual property law instead of armies.
Faced with legal advice to remain silent, the writer watched as the food community rallied in support. Prominent chefs and writers publicly defended the principle that food culture is shared, not owned. This growing public pressure ultimately led the business to drop its case and withdraw the trademark application.
The resolution, while a relief, points to a larger need for reflection. Trademark systems must develop greater cultural literacy to prevent the privatization of common words that belong to everyone. Food is a bridge to our histories and identities. It is something we share, not something we own, and it must remain in the hands of all who cook, eat, and sustain it.