Eddie’s food annoyances: all the food that ends up in the trash
Adeline (nickname: Eddie) loves food, a lot and often, both at home and out. Now, that often goes well, but sometimes it doesn’t. In the series Eddie’s food annoyances you can read about the latter. This time: why do we throw away so much food?
Actually, it’s simply never good enough, I’ll just say that right away. For example, I think getting too little food in a restaurant is truly pathetic, because hello—I’m here to eat, and then a shortage is just sad. But there’s something that bothers me even more, and that is: the exact opposite.
In my hollow tooth
It happens to me every now and then. The waiter puts down a gi-gan-tic mound of food in front of me and I feel a little panic coming on. First I wonder which hollow tooth I could make this heap disappear into, which of course is never really an option. Then I wonder whether I still have antacids in my bag, in case I decide to force it down out of decency to the world. And in the end I’m always a little angry.
Angry at the people who made it, because why would you do this? I understand that it might be a chef with a big heart piling this onto a plate, but it’s such a waste. One third of the food ends up in landfill. If you have even a little love for food in your gut, you simply don’t prepare this much.
A sign of protest
I’m calling for restaurants that are open and upfront about this. You open the menu, recoil at the font size and completely understand when you read: ‘We serve very average portions because we hate throwing food away. If it’s not enough for you, we’ll happily add a little more later.
All you have to do is say so.’ Clear, right? By the way, feel free to use this smooth-flowing text wherever necessary.
Raised middle finger
You know what else is annoying? People who know they aren’t going to eat something and still let it be served. You don’t eat croutons in your Caesar Salad? In 2021, it’s perfectly acceptable not to eat what’s put in front of you and order a crouton-free salad. Instead of collecting them along the edge of a plate like some kind of sign of protest—which, incidentally, is also always a bit of a raised middle finger to the chef in question.
Even worse: ordering a freakshake just for the photo—because name someone who actually finishes such a monstrous thing, but that’s material for another time.
One third!
A plea: just say beforehand what you aren’t going to eat and therefore don’t need to have on your plate. You happy, the chef happy, the world happy. And once again, a little less food on the giant waste pile. One third, my God, have we completely lost the plot?
Also read:
- Eddie’s food annoyances: can we please stop sharing food for a minute?!
- Eddie’s food annoyances: eating a boiled egg in public
- Eddie’s food annoyances: that layer of water at the bottom of the fridge
