Okay, We Get It: You Don’t Like Foodies. Now Shut Up Already!

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The Times, of all publications, is the latest to jump on the anti-foodie bandwagon with a short screed from Alexandra Jacobs. She complains that foodies are, like, everywhere — even Midwesterners are blogging about cupcakes, and even “your Republican father-in-law can pronounce ‘quinoa!’” (Aren’t Republicans just supposed to eat beating human hearts slathered in A1 sauce? How gross of them to start eating actual food and pronouncing it properly!). Worst of all, the Greenmarket is so crowded now — which, come to think of it, is the sort of complaint only an annoying foodie would have, but whatever! Let’s proceed straight to this intrepid reporter’s anecdotes about her annoying foodie friends.

First of all, there’s this annoying guy in the Bay area that has garlic preferences, thinks cook-offs are fun, and is particular about his oven and his produce. What a douche! This other person found a pebble in her fancy soup once (that would never happen with Chef Boyardee!) Also, there’s this person who feels lame because she can’t cook better. And that person’s sister felt lame when she went to a dinner party and brought a Toll House log while these other guys brought homemade ice cream. So obnoxious of those guys to make ice cream when they could’ve just brought Haagen Dazs! Plus, these other guys had a pig roast once and they undercooked the pig! Idiots! Why didn’t they just order Papa John’s? And finally, this friend of the author’s was once treated to a home-cooked tasting menu by this total annoying rich dude. She found it totally lame and now she’s dating this lawyer who doesn’t cook. Because that’s who we all want to be dating — someone who doesn’t cook (but who has enough money to take us somewhere nice).

This, folks, is what it takes to write an anti-foodie article. Make fun of a handful of people who are picky about food, or who enjoy cooking. Call them “foodiots” or “foochebags” (or foodtards or foodjerks or foodlosers). Tell them they should be eating at the Old Spaghetti Factory instead. As irritating as foodies can be, they’re nowhere near as irritating as these trendy little trend pieces. And there’s just something disingenuous about them. If Jacobs is really so annoyed by the guys who went to the trouble of roasting a pig, why did she pen a 1,300-word piece for Food & Wine about the ins and outs of her husband’s grilling preferences, going so far as to name-check brands and telling us all about how he “experimented with hot-smoking salmon at 165 degrees until it was flaky and permeated with alder smoke.” Alder smoke? You mean he has a wood chip preference? Next thing you’ll be telling us he prefers a certain type of garlic!

That’s what annoys us most every time we read one of these numbers — the sneaking suspicion that the people scribbling them off are taking their checks and spending them on, say, $550 Grill Domes, or maybe on produce at the Greenmarket. Though the Greenmarket is so crowded these days...

Grass Fed Up [NYT/T Magazine]