I Don't Care What You Ate for Dinner

I live in a city where loving to cook is very hip. Discussing a new vegan recipe, the best way to slow cook a brisket, or a new quinoa salad that will “blow your mind” are all things I might hear around the office or out at drinks on a regular basis. And it’s taken me a long time to publicly admit that I don’t care. My god, I don’t care.

I often find myself cornered in conversations about how someone “just made some awesome sweet potato fries,” or how they just perfected a new “amazing” pie crust. And every time I can feel my eyes glaze over (no pun intended) as I try to think of a polite and enthusiastic response, when the truth of the matter is I’m just thinking how I wish “please stop” was a socially acceptable thing to say to another person.

And on some level, I get it. Cooking is something almost all of us must do, and there are certainly a variety of major ethical and ecological issues tied into what goes into our mouths–food is a big part of our lives. But when you start getting into the nitty-gritty of how you braised your cauliflower last night, I just want to put on ear muffs. And don’t get me wrong–I don’t expect you to care what I ate for dinner either! I would never subject you to that “story” (notice I put story in quotation marks because it implies something interesting or worth talking about).

It’s not that I can’t cook–I literally cannot afford not to (although I would eat every single meal take out, delivery, or in restaurant if only it were feasible). It’s that I can think of a good forty seven and a half things I would rather be doing than preparing a meal. The mere thought of cooking–especially for a group of people–with the planning, the multi-tasking, the thinking, “Well, we’ll have to start the roast at 5 if we want it to be done with the asparagus and the couscous” just makes me want to slump to the floor and see if I can find crumbs under the stove to eat instead.

But more than all of this, I get the decided sense that not being particularly interested in this particular pastime is becoming a less and less popular thing to say (or at least admit). There’s a certain cache–a social currency–to people in their 20s who consider themselves foodies. Being really “into” cooking is right up there with knowing the most underground band from Sweden. Admitting that you don’t give a shit about it is almost akin to admitting that you don’t like to read. It’s downright gauche!

So this is for all of you fellow open-minded readers into art and culture and improving yourselves who just plain think cooking is the worst: I’m right there with ya.
Source: Huff Post

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