Deck Review: Gourmet Tarot
One of the most recent additions to my collection is this little cutie, the Gourmet Tarot by Scribalist (with illustrations by in-house artist Gumeaw). I got it via backing the Kickstarter campaign, but you can pick it up for £55 via Etsy [edited to update dead links]. The deck aims to “blend… the timeless wisdom of Tarot readings with the universal language of food“, and I was immediately struck by the really thoughtful matching of traditional Tarot symbolism with foods from around the world. There’s definitely a South East Asian vibe to a lot of the foodstuffs (the creators are based in Bangkok), but with classical dishes from Italy to Mexico to India, the deck as a whole is super multicultural.
Food has always been more than just sustenance; it is a source of comfort, pleasure, and inspiration.
Scribalist

The Deck: Look, Feel, and Finish
The 79 card deck (more on the bonus card later) comes in a sturdy lid-bottom box. A tiny and quite personal quibble – there’s no writing or illustrations on the side of the box – it’s just plain creamy beige. As I display my Tarot decks on shelves in my office, it’s always a bit annoying when there’s nothing to identify them sideways on! The guidebook is brief, but helpful if you’re having trouble figuring out what the pictured foodstuff has to do with the card’s message (which is bound to happen when you have such a truly pan-global deck. I think of myself as a foodie, but even I learnt some cool new facts about worldwide cuisine). The cards have gold foil edging – it’s the shiny stuff, which looks lovely now, but I know it’ll probably chip quite badly over time if I use the deck a lot. The back design looks like a gingham tablecloth in an old Italian trattoria – very cute.
The art style is slightly cartoony and really eye-catching – it reminds me of graphic novels, which makes sense as it *looks* to me (from their Facebook page) like the artist draws a lot of Animesque-type figures. This gives the whole deck a friendly, cheerful kind of vibe. I think it would be great for reading for strangers (especially at a food-based event) as it’s very warm and approachable. And here’s the bonus card, as promised – a Fortune Cookie! Normally I’m not the biggest fan of bonus cards, as I think the Tarot is designed to be a complete, holistic system and is therefore pretty perfect as is, but even my traditionalist old heart finds this one pretty endearing.



Greatest Hits: My Favourite Cards from the Gourmet Tarot
Here are some of my favourite cards from the Gourmet Tarot. The Fool is, obviously, an egg, and I think The Fool kinda has to be an egg in a food-based deck? It’s just so on the nose it would feel wrong to pick anything else! The egg is the perfect representation of new beginnings, creation, the start of a journey; as well as innocence, and, yes, foolishness. The unbroken oval of the egg also mirrors the number ‘0’, and Rachel Pollack points out that the number zero is like an egg, full of life, getting ready to hatch. Or as Ebeggin puts it, The Fool is “the Zero, the cosmic egg from which anything and everything can hatch.”
I love The Magician as a stew, taking relatively plain, simple ingredients and turning them into something delicious via the power of culinary alchemy. The chef being present in this drawing (which is rare for the deck, normally human figures are absent) reminds us that this isn’t ‘magic’ though – rather it’s the chef’s skills and hard work – even if he makes it look effortless.



When I first saw The Hierophant card I was like: wtf does The Hierophant have to do with lasagne? until I read the guidebook: “The Hierophant is depicted by a comforting and classic dish of lasagne, symbolising the importance of tradition, structure, and the passing down of knowledge through layers of generations“. Clever! It makes total sense – what’s more Hierophant than grandma’s lasagne recipe, passed down with love (and strict instructions not to mess with it)?
The Wheel of Fortune as a sushi-go-round is really smart and drôle. It captures the twists and turns of fate- one moment you’re getting your favourite dish, the next it’s spun right past you. There’s a sense of playful unpredictability here, but also a reminder that what’s gone will likely come around again… if you’re patient (or lucky) enough to grab it.
The Hanged Man as smoked fish is another choice that’s both clever and wryly amusing. The guidebook notes that hanging smoked foods represent “the need to let go and surrender to the natural process of transformation” – and for me that metaphor really works. Smoking is a slow, passive method that relies on time, patience, and trust in the process. Just like the card, it’s about stillness, surrender, and emerging changed on the other side.



Death is represented by this (really striking) bowl of rice. A bowl of boiled rice (with upright chopsticks) is often placed at the foot of a dead person in many Asian cultures as a final meal to set them up for their journey to the afterlife. I also feel like rice is a good metaphor for the Death card. Rice is everyday. It’s ordinary. And so, too, is death. We try to hide from it, dress it up, pretend it’s something rare – but it sits at the heart of life, just like a bowl of plain boiled rice. Rice is also very nourishing; a staple to support the growth and rebirth implicit in the life and death cycle.
The Eight of Pentacles is represented by momos (incidentally, one of my favourite foods 😋), as these delicious little dumplings require a lot of skill and attention to detail to create (have made some from scratch, can confirm!) It’s the perfect pairing for a card all about dedication, craft, and quiet perseverance. Each one is a tiny act of care, shaped by patience and practice.
I love the Ten of Pents as caviar, as this is such a classic ‘old money’ type food. It captures the card’s associations with legacy, tradition, and generational wealth perfectly.



The King of Pents is a charcuterie board “overflowing with an assortment of cured meats, cheeses, fruits, and nuts, showing the King’s prosperity and success“. It’s a rich, abundant spread, generously shared. This King doesn’t just accumulate wealth; he knows how to enjoy it, and how to make others feel welcome at the table.
I really like the traditional flaming baton from the Ace of Wands re-imagined as a firey kebab, and the Five of Wands as a free-for-all fondue party. The LWB explains, “[the] fondue pot [is] surrounded by various foods on sticks, symbolising the chaotic and competitive nature of trying to dip and enjoy the fondue“. It’s a light-hearted but surprisingly accurate take – everyone jostling for position, things getting messy, tensions bubbling just beneath the surface. It’s playful, but there’s definitely that Wandsy heat.



Then for the Nine of Wands we have a handful of soggy french fries making their last stand. This is resilience in its least glamorous form: drooping, salty, and just about holding it together.
The Ace of Swords is depicted by a single olive pierced by a sharp metal skewer. Associated with the goddess Athena, as well as the patron of human culture, Aristaeus, Greek Mythology considered the olive to be a sacred symbol of wisdom. The guidebook explains that “an olive on a metal skewer symbolises the clarity and precision of thought required to achieve break-throughs“.



I love the crossed knives and the competing jam and marmalade options for the Two of Swords. The symmetry of the knives evokes the traditional RWS imagery, while the sweet-but-subtle tension between spreads reminds us that even small decisions can feel surprisingly loaded.
The King of Swords is shown here as shaved ice: “sometimes the king is [so] logical that he is viewed as being cold“. The slushie in the drawing just made me think of brain freeze, lol, which is sort of the opposite of the super intelligent, calculating King of Swords. But then I thought about it a bit more and realised that while he’s brilliant, his cold detachment can be a weakness. He’s a king who leads with intellect, not emotion – and sometimes, that coolness cuts a little too deep.

And finally here’s my favourite card from the Gourmet Tarot, Judgement. In fact, this card is a strong contender for ending up being one of my favourite Judgement cards of all time! It’s just so clever, and so multi-layered. Fire is often linked with the Judgement card – it represents the transformative power of the card’s awakening and rebirth themes, and it also symbolizes the energy and drive that are needed to make significant changes in one’s life. This maps so well on to the bread making process. Just as the proofing and baking process causes bread to rise, so our own personal ‘Judgement’ moments cause us to rise to the occasion. We prove ourselves when called to our destiny, just as loaves of bread prove before a warm stove. And our strength of character is forged in the fires of judgement, just as bread is turned to fluffy, crusty deliciousness in the flames of the oven!
You can buy the deck here, and I think it’s well worth it, particularly for the foodies amongst you!
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