10 Signs That You’re a Foodie Douchebag
10 Signs That You’re a Foodie Douchebag
By Sean Evans
[411 Note: This was from half a decade ago, but still rings true – times 10. Everyone and their transgender half-sister is now a food snob. Think about that for a moment. Maybe for a day or two. This is just one of several thousand major problems social media has introduced to our already moronic society…]
On the douchebag spectrum, somewhere between Kanye West and Roger Goodell, you find foodies, people who have somehow rebranded stuffing their faces as a cultural virtue. These clowns harp commonplace enlightenment like an arrogant college econ major who claims they can solve the debt crisis. What happens when you combine a disciple-like allegiance to food trends with a proclivity for Instagram? A big douchebag. And we have the slides to prove it.
You Instagram Every Meal
Two things. First, social media is a means of proving that your life doesn’t suck while, simultaneously, documenting every painfully boring life event. There’s nothing special about going to a restaurant. We all do it. If you think your order of escargot de Bourgogne is a life event worth documenting, consider your existence on a pretty pathetic trajectory.
Second, while Instagram makes your acne less noticeable, it makes your food look a hundred times more disgusting. We don’t know what it is about throwing a Walden filter over quinoa ravioli that makes it look like a plate of anal fissures, but you’re gross for eating it, and a douchebag for sharing.
You Want to Know Everything About Your Meat
Listen, the less you know about how your food is prepared, the better. Trust us. Stop asking your server dumb questions. They couldn’t care less about your altruism. They make, like, $4 an hour. You’re not charming anyone.
You might feel better knowing that your entree was a “humanely raised, certified organic, grass fed, free roamer.” But, ultimately, that cow was Tased in the face and bled to death upside down so that you could try the dry-aged burger on an Orwasher’s bun at, say, the Dutch. Stop acting so concerned. And If you’re going to put your server through the trauma of explaining everything, tip generously. A 25 percent tip is the only thing that can save you.
You Share the Love of Being a Foodie
The lamest thing a couple can do is work out together. There’s nothing wrong with going to the same gym at the same time. But side-by-side planking on neighboring BOSU balls—next to waving back to some who’s not actually waving at you—is the most humiliating thing you can do. Glad that’s out of the way.
The next lamest thing you can do is share a mutual love for loving every dining trend. The two of you, sitting on the same side of the table bench while flirting your way through a phony argument over who served better foie gras: “La Silhoutte or Casa Mono.” Awww, you guys are so adorable. We totally hope you don’t choke on your sweet potato gnocchi.
You’re About that Fine Dining Life
Aren’t we in a recession? Who are these twenty-somethings getting Eleven Madison cash? Either they’re stupid enough to blow their rent money on a prix fixe dinner or they actually have the capitol to blow $200 on something as innocuous as Agedashi tofu. In which case, fuck you.
We don’t care how good you say the Crunchy Albacore Ceviche at Red O is, it’ll never be as viscerally satisfying as the sour cream-soaked final bite of a Chipotle burrito. Shelling out hundreds—sometimes thousands—of dollars on a meal will forever be vexing, because, ultimately, nothing can taste better than a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. And those things are, like, a dollar.
You’re Fresh on the Scene
In most major metropolitan areas, trendy restaurants are a measure of a person’s social status. If we’ve learned anything about the high rate of restaurant turnover, it’s that nobody gives a fuck about these places after, say, three months. So, “foodies” like to get there for the opening.
Look, restaurants are notorious for not having their shit together. In fact, if you care about the food, opening night is the worst time to go. The kitchen will be overrun, which means you have to feign three hours of conversation with that bloated, balding schlub you dragged along to pay for the meal. Is that worth a Facebook “check in”? We thought so.
You’re Star Struck
Oh, you “know the chef.” Amazing. When did that become a thing? Chefs are like guys who wrestle alligators—for years they were relegated to the social fringe until they could score a hit TV show on deep cable. Now, chefs are tatted up, faux-celebrities with deals and delusions of name-every-restaurant-after-myself grandeur. Seriously.
Every time Bobby Flay opens his mouth, he sets a new standard for irritating. Jamie Oliver is from the fattest country in Europe and has the nerve to start a “Food Revolution” in Los Angeles. Graham Elliot has restaurants Graham Elliot, g.e.b. (his initials, how clever), Grahamwich (you know, like sandwich), and rumors are swirling of a Grahamburger. Just what we need.
You Scoff at the Basics
People who are snobbish about music or fashion are insufferable, but at least there’s some sort of self-expression involved in their cultural pursuits. With food, you’re just stuffing your fat face. Remember that next time you scoff at the wrap-around line at Starbucks. There’s no need to be pretentious. Lighten up. It’s just food and, eventually, it’s shit. Keep that in mind.
It’s a Family Affair
If you pressure your son into kicking field goals or push your daughter into beauty pageants, he’ll resent you and she’ll develop an eating disorder. But they’ll both get college scholarships. You can hang your hat on something. If you encourage your kids to blog about their Lunchables and store Capri Sun decanters, they’ll only contribute to our country’s already debilitating child obesity rate. Don’t become a statistic.
You Anger Bartenders Regularly
As the “foodie” scene clutters, a faction of Don Draper-aspirants are going table-to-bar with berating restaurant employees. Requesting crafted cocktails and rare aperitifs they read about on the Internet, these clowns take pride in making people (in this case bartenders) feel inferior.
If you’re prefacing drink orders with a story (“I visited a lovely Heuriger in Vienna where I sampled a piquant…”) or sweating your bartender about “bitters,” you’re an asshole. Maybe you know something about booze, maybe you don’t, but you sound like a douche. And, worse yet, you’re proud of it.
You Hate Foodies
Nobody hates “foodies” more than food critics. They’ve seen what the iPhone did to the weatherman, and they fear the same time-to-get-a-real-job fate. Any hot girl with an Instagram account, an affinity for brunch, and propensity towards evocative selfies can do a food critic’s job at, typically, fifty times the following. If you’re mad, develop a more worthwhile skill than deciding what tastes good. Anyone can do that.