A Defense of the Non-Foodie

Confession: I am not a foodie.

There, I said it.

I could – and probably will – happily eat the same twenty to thirty things for the rest of my life. Doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I like what I like, I eat what works for me, and I don’t feel any great compulsion to expand my palate. I also don’t consider myself sheltered or missing out. I’m not weird or childish or somehow culinarily defective. What I am is a grown adult fully capable of deciding what I do and do not eat. It’s as simple as that.

I have foodie friends and family members whom I love and accept unconditionally. It is an acceptance that I’ve discovered is not always reciprocated.

Non-foodies tend to be viewed with anthropological curiosity. As though we are a secret society to be studied, questioned, and then educated before being converted to the religion of cuisine. On behalf of non-foodies everywhere, let me say this: we are fine.

Commenting on what someone eats is never appropriate, regardless of the intention. We do not owe anyone explanations for our food choices, and we do not need to be converted. Allergies, medical conditions, and the pain or discomfort that comes from eating trigger foods all contribute to limited palates. I personally get physically ill from eating certain things. I also just don’t like some foods. Neither of those things are anyone’s business but mine.  

The truth is I love a good meal as much as the next person, but food is not an event experience for me. My passion is not found sitting for a multi-course meal that takes hours and goes well into the night. Spending an entire evening in a restaurant sounds exhausting, and definitely not like my idea of a good time.

I will leave culinary event dining to the foodies while I eat a quick delicious meal that is done in under an hour.