This Is the Difference Between Foodies & Eaties
Ever since man gained the ability to make food and then tell people about said food, we’ve divided our species into two categories: the “foodie,” and the “eatie.” And though nobody has (probably) died, a war is being waged between the two. A delicious war, but a war nonetheless.
A foodie is usually marked by their specific need to deem themselves a “foodie.” This can manifest itself in a variety of forms, whether they be simple proclamations of loving food, or copious pictures that detail how much they love food. The foodie is the culinary equivalent of a crazed sports fan who keeps the fervor up even in the part of the off-season that doesn't involve the draft. They’re lightning quick to announce their adoration of the almighty food, and all of the many ingredients involved in it. They’re also very quick to judge non-foodies and the practices that they imagine all non-foodies follow.
Foodies never paint a realistic picture of non-foodies
To them, non-foodies are simply lumped into one massive, fast food-gulping swarm. (Stuff that noise! Fast food is habitually delicious by design!) To them, the non-foodie may as well be living out of a giant can of Vienna sausages. (As if that wouldn't be the most comfortable apartment ever.)
They regard the non-foodie as barely human, a grub-worm shaped mass of emotionless flesh who can never grasp the importance of an extra dash of a certain spice, or the added flavor that cooking meat a certain way provides.
To foodies, all non-foodies exist to ruin potentially great resources. Maybe that’s why they Instagram so many pictures of food. They want a record of it when all of the food is lost, devoured by callous non-foodies in their violent quest for simple sustenance. “Remember kangaroo cheese? Oh, it was a long time ago. Way before you were born, little one. Kangaroo cheese was so good to put on sausages, before the non-foodies came along and turned all the sausages into fried high fructose corn syrup fritters, and then turned all those fritters into poop.”
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Foodies fear you’re enjoying food the wrong way
If you find yourself invited to dinner by a foodie, unless you are ready and willing to agree with everything they say and absorb every bit of “knowledge” that they leak out, they will assume that they are doing you a favor. Every foodie thinks that they’re in some kind of The Blind Side scenario with their non-foodie friends. Without the foodie’s help, those friends will go down the wrong path in life -- or worse -- the wrong aisle in the grocery store.
At the very least, a foodie will assume that they are providing a warm light in the non-foodie’s cold, cold existence. They will fill up the non-foodie’s belly with tastes that they have never before experienced, and happiness that they’d never dreamt of feeling. And then they’ll send the non-foodie on their way, while they feel a mix of pity and loathing. The non-foodie would never dream of enjoying food like the foodie does, but is just too stupid to change, so the foodie loves and hates them in equal measures -- a contrast not unlike sous-vide poached goat's tongue under home-fermented nattō.
The eatie, on the other hand, wants to eat
The eatie does have the ability to discern what they want to eat, which seems obvious but is a higher level of thinking than most foodies give them credit for. The eatie can decide if food has gone bad, or will probably taste bad, and often makes judgment based on that criteria. Does it look old? Will not eat. Does it look and smell like it will have a taste that the eatie does not personally enjoy? Will not eat. The biggest thing that the foodie doesn’t recognize about the eatie is that the eatie is not a sheltered simpleton who refuses to acknowledge the finer parts of life. The eatie can enjoy a great meal just as easily as the foodie can. The biggest difference is that the eatie may not tell anyone about it. But...
An eatie doesn’t always remain silent
If an eatie finds a restaurant that they like, they recommend the place to others rather than try to keep the hordes from discovering it. But if a foodie did that, then they wouldn’t be able to complain about all the great restaurants closing. An eatie’s taste buds are not worn down from devouring random objects in the name of finding nourishment. They work just as well as a foodie’s. Sometimes, they work even better, because…
An eatie allows food to happen
The eatie is not constrained by the preconceived notion of who they are. They don’t feel the need to filter everything through the query, “Is this good enough for me, but more importantly, is this good enough for Insta?” They can enjoy things as they are. Eaties will also cook their own food if they decide that they want to, which is another thing that foodies will deny ever happens.
An eatie does not need to turn into a one-person marketing department every time they cook or eat a dish. An eatie is not driven on a mission to impress themselves and others with their extensive knowledge of the right and wrong ways to prepare food.
If an eatie is making something for you, they will offer you a drink and an appetizer, and, at most, tell you how good the dinner will be, or how much they hope you enjoy it. Eaties interact with other eaties in a giving, positive way. They understand that when people use food as a way to raise their status, those people become unbearable to be around. An eatie maintains relationships through the shared joy of eating, not the shared joy of thinking about how terrible another person’s eating habits are.
In short, be an eatie, not a foodie. Talking about how great food is is never a bad thing, but as soon as you find yourself turning into a snob with a smartphone, you’ve gone too far.