In the 1960s and 1970s, those who enjoyed the finest food were gourmets. In the 1980s and 1990s, food enthusiasts became epicures. In the 21st century, we are surrounded by foodies.
Vegetable pate panini and fries by Cheryl DeWolfe
Foodies are defined as those who have “an ardent or refined interest in food and drink” whereas an epicure “takes pleasure” in food and a gourmet is a connoisseur of good food, with a discerning palate. The difference, in theory is that each level strips away some of the pretentiousness: gourmets loved only the best foods prepared by the finest chefs; epicures embraced the idea that one could learn to prepare fine food and pair it with just the right wine and truly enjoy food. Foodies are food boosters, who like to know where their food comes from and who prepares it; they champion underdog ingredients and small local eateries.
Unfortunately, the foodie frenzy sometimes turns ugly. I felt the sting of foodies putting down my choice to eat in a chain restaurant and I read tirades that compare mass-produced food to mass-murder. I felt lost looking at a cocktail menu that included no standard drinks and instead featured unfamiliar liqueurs and bitters in almost every recipe. I watched online as a woman was bullied when she contended that organic produce was just too expensive for her family.
While I am all for championing underdog ingredients like using bulgur in salads, I get annoyed when the trend is to push less popular foods on people. Recently I read about a restaurant proudly purveying offal and I think, “Really? The stuff that is usually consigned to commercial pet food is being put on the menu — likely at top dollar?” I have no issue if that’s what you want to eat or if, for whatever reason, it’s what you can afford to eat but to put it out there as a fine food is as if the restaurateur just wants to be provocative. Of course it has been on menus for decades — most pâté is made with liver, after all — but the foodie trend to be shocking (using the word offal in this case) is what rubs me wrong.
Home-cooked Israeli couscous salad by Cheryl DeWolfe
So this is my quandary: do I still consider myself a foodie despite the extreme behavior? If I do, it will be to try and lead by example. I will continue to follow Michael Pollan’s advice to “eat food, not too much, mostly plants,” and I will not stress out about those times when I ignore that same advice. I will encourage others to understand where food comes from and to create their own meals.
I will not lecture others in what they should or should not eat nor will I scoff at those with limited palates or “lowbrow” tastes. I will not boast about how ethical or carbon-neutral my meal might be. I will rebel against the bad apples in the foodie barrel and if someone calls me a foodie and intends it as a complement, I will take it as such. In the end, it’s just a word.
Photo Credits
Photos by Cheryl DeWolfe – All Rights Reserved
Recent Cheryl DeWolfe Articles:
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- Other Children's Parents
- Do I Scare You?
- Confessions of a Former Grammar Queen
- Is Oversharing Really So Awful?
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