Some years ago when I was still a restaurateur, I had a chef called Humphrey Weightman, a talented cook and a musician. He was the first man to introduce me to the concept of letting flavours speak for themselves and concentrating on simplicity. He took no short cuts in anything that he did and I remember the day he said to me 'You know, one day restaurants like this will be museums of food.'

Now that's an interesting thought. We have museums of Art and Natural History, Music Halls of Fame, museums of 20th century ephemera, museums of tribal artefacts, but nowhere is there a museum of food. And that's odd, because food is something we not only need to survive, but that we enjoy on a daily basis. There are places like Strokestown that have re-created nineteenth century kitchens, and Hampton Court with its sixteenth century kitchens, but although close, it's not quite the same thing. Faux medieval banquets with serving wenches is more Hollywood than history, but if nothing else they show that somewhere there's an interest in how we used to eat. What ideas we do have about the eating habits of history come for the most part from movies. Charles Laughton as Henry VIII throwing bones over his shoulder to the dogs, mediaeval knights in John Boorman's 'Excalibur' carousing at the table, our early ancestors grunting round their cave entrances in 2,000,000 BC - all images that we take in and presume to be accurate.

Even archaeologists devote effort to establishing the diets of our forebears. From around 50,000 BC and possibly earlier the diet certainly consisted of berries, nuts, the odd cereal like barley and, of course, meat. There's always been an understanding that our diet is inextricably linked with our attitude to life. I always liked the story of King Leonidas of the Spartans, the man who fought the battle of Thermopolae, going on a state visit to Athens. He instructed his men that they were not to eat any of that decadent Athenian food and eat only their staple diet of barley porridge. Decadent people, decadent food; Spartan ideals, Spartan food.

For most of human history diet has been based on one simple precept: eat whatever is available. In times of famine all culinary taboos disappear. People have turned to eating dogs and rats, and even cannibalism was not unknown. The urge to survive has always taken precedence over habits and taboos. But perhaps the most important correlation between food and man is that whenever food is abundant population grows. Around 10,000 BC we find the first evidence of agriculture in the Sumeria and in Mesopotamia. Learning how to grow crops of particular varieties rather than gathering them meant abundance, and with that came not only larger populations, but an increase in leisure time for a few. These lucky few, who did not spend their days labouring in the fields, had the time to devote to intellectual pursuits, like the study of the heavens and to art and philosophy. The beginnings of what we call culture was inextricably linked to freedom from the drudgery of finding food. Whenever new crops were found with larger yields, population grew alongside. Wheat is a good example. Constant refinement and careful breeding meant strains with bigger, fatter seeds could be grown. River deltas and plains where these new crops could be grown successfully became centres of dense population. Countries like Egypt were able to support an immensely complex society on the wealth that this crop generated, supplying corn to most of the Roman Empire.

As European man explored the globe in the middle of this millennium there was a two-way traffic in crop varieties. Settlers in the Americas took high-yielding wheat varieties with them and indigenous American plants, like the potato, came back to Europe. How that one plant affected Ireland is a story we all know, but once again its introduction meant Ireland's population grew steadily until the blight of the 1840s. The continuing exploration of the globe meant that Arabian coffee beans could be grown in South America and American rubber trees could be planted in the Far East. Bread fruit was considered to be the miracle crop, the same crop that drove the men of The Bounty to mutiny. Man suddenly had access to all the earth's natural produce and could decide where he might like to transplant it. These major transpositions of crops have fuelled the relentless increase in human population up to today's 6 billion.

But as Thomas Malthus observed in 1798, whereas human population growth is geometric, increases in food production have always been arithmetic. In short he believed that increases in food production would inevitably be followed by a growing population, which would in turn need more food. Up until now food supplies have kept up with demand, but the pressure is constant. Despite what many of us believe, our grip on this planet is not so strong. Two weeks of extra monsoon rains can leave huge numbers of people flooded, homeless, hungry and in many cases dead. Climatic zones are also constantly changing. Areas like southern Arizona once had enough rainfall for a wheat crop and supported a population of Pueblo Indians. Around 1880 the rainfall began to drop off to today's arid levels, leaving them with no further crops, and consequently no further livelihood. In Russia the steppes have been warm enough for wheat production and for many centuries produced enough to feed the nation. Changes in climate means that that's no longer the case, and Russia now imports its grain.

So with this backdrop we can look into our next millennium with some apprehension. Gradual shifts in weather patterns that created the Sahara desert means there will be changes. The Sahelian belt will get wetter while areas around the densely populated 40th parallel will get drier. This will bring a big shift in the economics of food production, with exporting countries becoming importers and vice-versa. In millenia gone by these weather shifts were easier to deal with: whole populations would simply move to more acceptable climactic conditions - an option in today's regulated and frontier-policed world that is no longer available. Major movements of people in search of better living conditions have traditionally resulted in war with the people who already inhabit those areas. The prospects for peace in an increasingly over-populated world aren't great.

Governments and their researchers are constantly looking for ways to increase food supplies with less effort and greater profit. Genetically modified food research is simply a logical extension of that search. In countries where there's an abundance of food we can afford to say that we don't want it, just as we can afford to say we'll be Vegans, Janes or plain vegetarians. But for most of mankind, diet is simply what the indigenous technology and climate can provide; choice doesn't come into it. In the affluent first-world countries the shift towards leaving food production to specialists, while the majority of the population do other useful work, has been dramatic. By far the largest section of these societies has nothing to do with the production of food and is far removed from a knowledge of how it's done. The distancing of the majority of people from the primary production of food has resulted in economic growth and a technological explosion, but it has left our diet at the mercy of people who are beyond our control.

A trend that's easy to see is how in increasing numbers we get our food. We buy it packaged in supermarkets. I know farmers with dairy herds who buy their milk in cartons, so pervasive is this trend. The only certainty is that this trend will not only continue, but will take on new twists and turns. Already cling-wrapped meat that we buy in a supermarket is unrecognisable as being a body part of an animal, further distancing the consumer from the production. Chickens are increasingly being sold in pieces with names that distance them from the anatomy - like buffalo wings, drumsticks and even stranger, nuggets. What part of the hen do the nuggets come from? In the name of choice we're offered pre-cooked foods, but no choice in what chemicals may be added to these foods to allow them to live for days on a shelf. Big business controls food production and distribution and that trend will continue. EU laws have made it increasingly hard for small producers to distribute, further forcing the market into the hands of a few major players. Have you tried to buy a farm egg or cheese made from unpasteurised milk lately?

By choosing the freedom of easy shopping and pre-prepared foods we lose the freedom to decide what we actually ingest into our bodies. No one ever asked us did we want to eat beef that had been fed on human excrement or chickens that had been fed on pig's entrails, because the final consumer has no say in the matter. We entrust that regulation to our representatives, and they do what big business requires of them. Which is why there's still an ongoing attempt to foist GM foods on us. The food industry is increasingly globalised and just like other multi-national conglomerates it will remain largely beyond the control of individual countries. Food scares and unnatural ingredients are the price we pay for our convenience, and they will continue into the new millennium with even greater frequency.

Unless you're prepared to grow all your own food and devote yourself to that and nothing else, then more of what we've already got is the best you can hope for. It's possible that if governments abandon their cheap food policies we could put the production of food back into the hands of individuals with ethics rather than conglomerates without - but I won't be holding my breath for that. I'd guess that the chains of distribution and the sales outlets already in place are too ingrained to change now. Take a good look at whatever natural foods you may have in your larder; they may well be the ingredients for a museum in the coming millennium.