“What is that?”
I was pulling out ingredients for dinner from the refrigerator and my friend was visibly squirming looking at the quart glass bottle of green sludge that was on the first shelf.
“It’s just a kale smoothie.”
She looked at me and rolled her eyes.
“I know, I know… who has kale smoothies in their refrigerator?” I responded. I paused for dramatic effect in order to underline the absurdity of my next statement. “It has chia seeds in it, too.”
Telling someone you ate a bowl of chard sautéed in sesame oil because you hadn’t been grocery shopping lately and it was the only thing you had on hand will most likely get you a “who are you?”-type response, but tell someone you snagged a piece of pizza for lunch at the corner joint because you were in a rush, and no one bats an eye. Eating good food has turned from a regular habit into an elitist activity. Ever seen anyone roll their eyes because your refrigerator was full of Chinese leftovers, even though you know perfectly well that those leftovers are soaked in MSG and you have no idea what kind of meat particles they used in the orange chicken?