November 21, 2021

I love/hate restaurants

I hate restaurants

It’s mostly the uncertainty. I like to know what’s going on on my plate, all the ingredients, weights, macros. I love food as is - no extra oils, sauces and other frippery.*

At restaurants, you just don’t know. Sometimes you ask for the dressing on the side and they bring you EXTRA dressing on the side. Sometimes they look at you confused, sometimes they get angry.

Come on, the calories in this dressing are probably x4 than the salad itself.

Like, if your food is that good then why are you trying to conceal it?

I’m digressing.

It’s also paradox of choice, if there’s choice. I am a boring person. I can eat the same stuff all day every day.

Salad + grilled chicken. That’s perfection and that’s no asking for too much, is it?

But some places don’t have that and I have to use my brainpower to figure out what’s the next safest thing to get (a privileged position to be in, I know).

I’m lucky - I have it better than I could have 20 years ago. Most restaurants today have a salad section with some solid options + there is this “fast casual” thing (God bless sweetgreen!) + some places even publish calories, macros, and nutrients.

And of course, once you find that restaurant or even a few that you can trust, it’s amazing. It’s great to go there occasionally. But I would still rather meal prep at home. 

Pro tip: I found that breweries and pizza places have the best salads. You’re welcome. 

I love restaurants

I love the buzz! The atmosphere! The smells!

You rarely see sad people at restaurants. Everyone’s happy, enjoying their fancy food, enjoying their fancy drinks. Everyone’s relaxed, love that.

I love walking on streets that have lots of restaurants. So much to see. 

Especially when it’s evening time. Bonus points to those places that have string lights.

Restaurants make the streets safe. They create the neighborhood. They are the creative outlets. They are the places of destination.

And I love walking, walking, walking. Listening to music, observing. 

And then I go home, have my chicken, and go to bed, happy.  

*Frippery - never heard this word before, was trying to find equivalent to “мишура” in Russian, so not sure whether it fits but I love the sound.

About masha
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