Food is not important.
Fine, it is.
But everyone loves food. Like, everyone loves food. Eating is probably most people’s favorite past time, especially in first world countries.
I like to eat, but I don’t love it. Food prep, deciding what to eat, and actually consuming food is time consuming in and of itself.
So much so that I actually have better things to do than devote an amount of time and thought process to deciding on what I want to curb my hunger with.
It’s just not that big of a deal.
Crazy? Sure. I’ll be that guy. Sorry I’m not sorry that I’m not one of the active hunters of the best Mexican food in Manhattan. I really couldn’t care less. I don’t need to make brunch dates a staple in my social life. I don’t care about amazing avocado recipes and seafood that’s to die for.
I don’t give two flying shits about finding the best Mexican food in New York. Why am I repeating this?
Because literally everyone is trying to find the best Mexican food in the city. Just check any random girl’s tinder bio. (Seriously, though.)
I can, however, tell you where to get the best burger in New York: (It’s Paul’s Da Burger Joint in East Village on the corner of 2nd Ave and St. Marks. Argue if you will.)
Don’t get me wrong, humans. Food is good. I enjoy a good meal here and there. Put me down for a chicken and waffles brunch escapade once a month. But the more I think about it and the older I get, the more I realize the love of food just isn’t that important to me.
Do you even eat, bro?
Like I said, I love good food.
I just eat when it’s convenient. Which is the secret to my Jack Skellington-esque physique. I sometimes go hours without eating anything only to discover by the end of the day I’ve only had one legit meal.
I’ve gotten used to not eating consistently. I blame work ethic and sever anxiety.
So instead of going out of my way to prepare some decadent dish that was prepared on Food Network, I’d rather make 10 minute whole grain pancakes and two plums.
Or boil pasta and add $3 marinara sauce. Done.
Because it’s simple. It doesn’t take a lot of thinking. And it’s not complicated to make or to clean up. It gets the job done.
Roll your eyes all you want. Eating is a task and an inconvenience, if I’m being honest.
Eating has become, as with many things, mainstream. You could say it’s always been this way, sure. But for some reason eating this dish at that restaurant has made it’s way into the files of all things chic.
This is old news, of course. But check your Snapchat timeline or Instagram.
I admit it. Part of why I don’t care so much about eating a lot is because I really don’t want to spend the amount of money it would take to buy all the food I want. There are dozens of great eateries in Manhattan and my part of Brooklyn, but you know what?
I don’t want to spend the money just to alleviate my hunger pangs with ingredients that my stomach can not decipher. Your stomach only knows what it can and can’t digest.
We’re so used to doing things that make us feel good and eating things that taste good that it’s harder to go without things. I don’t need amazing food for every meal.
I just need relevance.
And as far as I’m concerned, as long as it doesn’t kill me and it keeps me alive, I’m game. As for all these “foodies” that want to eat from every food truck in the city and taste from every ethnic restaurant you read about, have at it.
It is not a priority. I’m a creative. The quicker and easier I can subside my hunger, the sooner I can get back to sitting in my room at my desk dissecting the very fabric of the universe and dreading doing things that most of humanity does like going to work or buying socks.
I like food. Food likes me. But if you asked me what I’d rather spend my time thinking about, I’d rather become consumed with Rick & Morty fan theory.
Go, humans. Go.
Image: Michael Stern