Go shame yourself with your food shaming

Just as I let the tip of my knife drop into the Penotti jar, I see a brow raise across the table. I stop halfway, let my knife circle above the opening, and look at the brow in question. The brow lowers, and I let my knife smoothly drop into the Duo Penotti jar with satisfaction. Free of comment and above all: unabashed.

Foodshaming is the new mumshaming, is the new skinnyshaming, is the old-fashioned meddling behavior that you don't want. On Fridays, I always give my last slice of bread a double construction: first a bit of butter and then some peanut butter. I find peanut butter a bit dry on its own, but the fact that I am already justifying myself about the dryness of peanut butter reminds me again of the (ex-)colleague who always made a point of my stack. Every. Friday. Again. Until I got fed up and calmly told her that I found it quite disturbing that she criticized my sandwich (read: I lost my cool and asked if she could leave my divine construction alone).

It seems to be one of the biggest issues among colleagues: receiving comments on a meal. And in a time when the whole world is vegan, gluten is made by the devil, and one of your cheerful friends at work is always on a diet, it is unfortunately more the rule than the exception. But why, people? Where is the time when you didn't stick your nose in someone else's plate? The flexitarian points a finger at the meat-eater, the vegetarian at the flexitarian, the vegan at the vegetarian, and otherwise the chocolate spread is diluted with something concerning or the percentage of salt in supermarket bread is a health risk (which by the way seems to be true). And do you know how fatty an avocado is? Yes, I know, yes.

But for heaven's sake, let's stop evangelizing your food group; no one becomes a happy eater from that. Amen.